#also also I realise I didn’t include too many dynamics so you are free to ask again if you want any specifics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theghostofblackbunnymask · 3 years

Note

Can I request some Dream with y11, a8 and a10...?

Author's note- This was based on a dream I had with yandere dream, and as always, sleepy bois inc family is canon in this story, and Y/N is the second youngest, older than Tommy but younger than the twins Techno and Wilbur. Also, Mumza is in here, I don't see her in a lot of fanfics that included the SBI family dynamic.

Author's note 2- The first half of this fic is mainly SBI fluff, then the rest will be Dream x Reader

Author's note- this isn't the best but I tried, wasn't in the best mind space when I wrote this.

Warnings- Implied Abuse, Kidnapping, Gaslighting (?)

Yandere Dream x Reader

Y/N banged on Techno's door, their legs being close to giving up due to exhaustion. Techno yawned as his walked towards the door with an axe in hand, his hair covering most of his face, it was around 2 AM when Y/N knocked on his door. Techno opened the door and saw Y/N looking at him with despair, wearing nothing but a T-shirt that wasn't their's, and they had a black eye.

"Y/N?" Techno asked, since he hasn't seen his little sibling in years.

"Techno... Let me in, please..." Y/N said, barely being able to speak before they collapsed, and everything going black.

The next morning...

Y/N woke up in their old bedroom, the entire room looking like it hasn't been touched in years. Touching their face, they felt bandages covering their left eye. Tommy walked into the room holding a plate of pancakes and bacon. Looking up, Tommy almost dropped it the moment he saw Y/N.

"Y-Y/N..." Tommy said.

"Hey Tommy..." Y/N said, giving him a sad smile.

Tommy ran toward Y/N and knocked them over, hugging them as he cried.

"We thought you were dead! After you didn't show up after you went hunting, we looked every where and we couldn't find you. I thought you..."

Y/N hugged Tommy back and rubbed his back. Tommy pulled back and rubbed his tears away.

"Where were you?"

Y/N looked at the ground and shook their head, implying they didn't want to talk about it. Tommy just nodded before standing up.

"Come down stairs once your done," Tommy said, before closing the door.

Y/N picked up their plate, looking down at it, waiting for something to happen. The words that Dream said kept replaying in their head.

"Ugh, you're getting fat again, you know what, no food for the next 2 weeks, got it?"

Y/N hands shook as they backed away from the food. Y/N gripped Dream's shirt as they held back tears. Y/N just grabbed a piece of bacon and ate it with their eyes closed. When they realised how good it was, they ate more and more until their plate was clean.

Y/N got up and walked down stairs, Wilbur lying down on the couch while he listened to Tommy rant about Ranboo and Tubbo, Techno was no where to be seen, and Phil was doing the dishes in another room. Wilbur glanced at you before walking up to you and hugging you.

"I thought Techno was fucking with me when he told me you were back, but you really are!"

"Heh, yeah," Y/N said, hugging Wilbur back.

"Where's Dadza?" (They call Phil Dadza instead of dad)

"In the kitchen," Tommy said, taking Wilbur's spot on the couch.

Y/N left as Wilbur began pulling Tommy off the couch.

"HEY STOP IT MAN!"

"GET OFF THE FUCKING COUCH TOMMY!"

Y/N giggled as they entered the kitchen, chat was annoying Phil as he did the dishes. Phil saw the crows fly towards Y/N and started to fly around them. Y/N giggled as they let two crows on their shoulders.

"Hey Dadza," Y/N said, hugging Phil who hugged them back.

"My God, you look so... different, not like it's a bad thing of course but, where the hell were you, if you were going on vacation you should of told us," Phil said, rubbing Y/N's hair.

Y/N just giggled as the crows kept flying around them.

"Yeah I know. Hey, where's Mumza? If she here right now or is she working?" Y/N asked.

"Uhhhh, I think she's in the forest outside."

Y/N waved goodbye as they left, the crows flying after them.

"Finally those things leave me alone..." Phil sighed in relief.

Y/N walked in the forest while the crows flew behind them, and they stopped when they saw a familiar hat.

"Mumza?"

Kristen looked down behind her and saw a familiar figure. Shrinking down so she wasn't above the trees, she saw a familiar face.

"Y/N..." Kristen said as she walked towards them and placed a hand on their cheek as she covered her mouth, hiding her smile.

"Hey Mumza..."

Kristen began to cry tears of joy as she hugged them.

"I knew you weren't dead, when I checked the limbos and the train station you weren't in neither of them," She said, backing away.

"Oh my, what happen to your face?"

"I don't really remember," Y/N lied.

"Y/N, you know it's wrong to lie to your mother."

Y/N giggled as their mother gave them a stern look.

"I don't really want to talk about it, it's a long story."

"Ok sweetie, now stay safe, I don't want you going missing again, we were worried sick that something happened to you."

"I know, Dadza told me."

Mumza just shook her head with a smile before kissing them on the cheek, like she did when they were very young. Kristen waved goodbye before disappearing into black dust. Chat flew back to Phil's house, leaving Y/N all alone in the woods. Y/N just sat under a tree as they listen to the nature sounds. A fox walked by and slept next to them, bringing Y/N some joy.

Fast forward to night...

Tommy opened Y/N's door in at panic before closing it behind him. Y/N was on their bed reading when the teen came in.

"Tommy, what the hell are you doing here?"

"TOMMY WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

"I may have stolen Will's guitar..."

"That doesn't sound that bad."

"And I may have broke it..." Tommy said, revealing a broken guitar from behind his back.

Y/N burst out into laughter, holding back tears as they laughed.

"You're so fucked!"

After Y/N said that Wilbur burst through the door, knocking Tommy over.

"Shit!" Tommy said, crawling under the bed.

"Get out from their you fucking gremlin," Wilbur said, trying to get tommy.

Techno walked by and just stood at the door way watching the commotion.

"Techno! Can you help me out?"

"Eh, looks like a you problem."

Wilbur groaned as he grabbed Tommy's leg, and once he did he pulled him out from under the bed. Y/N looked at Techno and just shrugged as he showed confusion. Wilbur picked Tommy up, opened the window, and threw Tommy out from it.

"SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!" Tommy yelled as he prepared himself as he fell.

But the ground never came, but instead felt himself get picked up. Looking up, he saw Kristen with a pissed off face.

"Willbur, what did I saw about throwing Tommy outside of windows!"

"Oooo, Will's getting yelled at by Mumza," Techno mocked, snickering.

"Oh shut up," Wilbur told Techno.

Kristen placed Tommy back inside of the house as she picked Wilbur up and scolded him.

"A 23 year old man getting scolded by his own mother, tsk tsk tsk," Tommy said, shaking his head in a disapproving manner.

"Now, I don't want to see anymore fighting or throwing each other out of windows or breaking each others things, am I making myself clear?"

"Yes Mumza," Wilbur and Tommy said, sighing in defeat.

Kristen nodded before Disappearing into black dust.

"Your getting me a new guitar Tommy," Wilbur said.

"Fine, asshole," Tommy said as he left.

Techno and Will left, leaving Y/N alone. Picking up their book, they noticed that, all the words on the pages were gone. Scrolling through the book, the only thing their was a smiley face. Y/N looked around confused before closing the book.

"He's gone Y/N, your free, don't let your imagination ruin it," Y/N said, putting the book in their drawers.

Later that night...

Y/N slowly opened their eyes and saw a too familiar face staring at them. Before they can screen, Dream covered their mouth and placed a finger over his mouth, silently telling them to hush up. Dream had a sinister smile on his face, he didn't have his mask on, but instead it rested on the side of his head. His green eyes glowed in the darkness as he spoke.

“Scream all you want sweetie, no one’s going to hear you. And no one ever will…”

Y/N panicked and kicked Dream who was towering over them, in the dick, making him wince over and fall onto the floor in pain. Standing up, they ran out of the room and ran downstairs, opening the door and running out of the house. Dream recovered and chased after them.

"COME BACK HERE LOVE!" Dream yelled, running after them.

"Leave me alone, Leave me alone, Leave me alone, I don't want to go back," Y/N mumbled, running faster.

Y/N felt the air get knocked out of them when they fell to the ground, Dream pinning them down as he leaned in to whisper into their.

"Your pathetic... You're the child of the Angel Of Death and the Goddess Of Death, yet you get defeated by a mortal like myself... I guess I really am a God, just trapped in a mortal's body... I told you so many times Y/N, you're weak, you're nothing without me, you'll never be anything without my protection and care, your family doesn't care about, only I will waste my fucking time with you," Dream said, before knocking Y/N out.

Dream picked Y/N up and slung them over his shoulder. As he walked through the forest, he thought about something, a little gift to leave in Y/N's room for the family to see. Sitting Y/N down, he written down on a note 'Thanks for the gift :)' before running back to the house, quietly going in Y/N room to leave it on the bed. Then he ran out and went on his merry way.

The next day...

Tommy went to wake Y/N up, but he was greeted by a messing, dishevelled room.

"What the... What the fuck happened in here?" Tommy asked, looking around.

Once he got to the bed he saw the note, when he picked it up he almost dropped it instantly. Tommy ran down stairs and waved the note in the air.

"They're gone, Y/N's gone!"

"What do you mean?" Phil asked.

"This note was on their bed, and their room was a mess."

Techno grabbed the note as he skimmed over it, his face that held confusion turned to realization and then went to anger.

"What's wrong Techno?" Kristen asked.

"I know this handwriting from anywhere... Dream has them."

"What?!" Wilbur and Tommy asked.

"H-How? Y/N's never met Dream," Tommy said.

"How can we know that for a fact? Y/N was missing for years, and now they come back mysteriously in a panicked manner and in a very unhealthy condition."

"What are you leading towards Techno?" Phil asked.

"My theory is that Y/N was with Dream the years they were missing, and it wasn't by choice. I'm not sure how they met, but they definently have some sort of relationship, and it isn't heathly."

"What does Dream look like?" Kristen asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"I can ask Drista or XD to help me, I have a feeling Dream's linked to the two in some way, and it can help me locate him with the crows help."

"No one's really seen his face," Tommy said.

"But one thing that stands out is his mask, he wears this smiley mask all the time, making it impossible to see his face."

"With that info given to Mumza, what's the plan?" Wilbur asked.

Techno let out a dark chuckle as his eyes went dark.

"Oh I have a plan... And it's not going to be easy..."

With Y/N and Dream...

Y/N looked up and their hands were above their head, cuffed to the wall with no way to escape. Their legs were tied together, and the shirt they were wearing was gone, leaving them in just their undergarments. Looking up, Dream was sitting on a chair, looking at them dead in the eyes with a pissed off expression as he sharpened his netherite sword.

"Tell me this Y/N, what made you get the confidence and ego to pull this BULLSHIT on me?!"

Dream stood up and grabbed their face

"I give you everything, anything! If you want it I get it for you. But you just had to get selfish and leave me, you're fucking disgusting."

"I'm not disgusting..." Y/N mumbled.

"What did you say whore?"

"You heard me, I'm not disgusting! You're the one that fucking kidnapped me and hid me away for years, starving me whenever I got 'too fat?' WHAT BULLSHIT IS THAT?! You physically and emotionally abuse me, and you do this just because you love me? I believed you for years, but when I got to see my family again I remembered what real love was, and this, this isn't love! You need fucking help Dream, and after this I'm going to need fucking therapy due to your FUCKING BULLSHIT!"

Dream slapped Y/N hard across the face, before putting his hand around Y/N's throat.

“Your life is in my hands, don’t test me, ok?”

"I'm not testing you Dream, I'm telling you the truth. You're just too caught up in your ego to see it."

Dream began to chuckle, before going into a hysterical laughter.

"Oh~ Y/N just doesn't know when to shut up..." Dream said, before kicking them in the stomach.

"Being with your family for 1 day made you get your ego, confidence and self respect back... Now that's not good," Dream continued, stabbing his netherite sword into Y/N's hands, making them scream in pain.

Dream began to hurt punch them over and over again until he got bored.

"DREAM PLEASE STOP! I'M AT HALF A HEART!" Y/N yelled, looking up at Dream with pleading eyes.

Dream just smiled, his eyes glowing as he looked down at them.

"Oh Y/N... I could kill you right now, and no one would care! NOBODY! And if people did care, where's your family? Where's your friends? Only I care about you, only I can make you happy, only I can touch you the way I do, and only I can love you..."

Y/N's brain just completely shut down as they stared down at the floor with emotionless eyes. Y/N began to cry, tears rolling down their face as they thrashed against their restraints.

"No! You're wrong! Youre..." Y/N said, before they felt Dream grab their chin.

"Care to finish that?"

Y/N just shook their head no, being too tired to do anything, and having too many mental and physical scars to even care anymore.

"Now, who's the only one that can love you?

"You..."

"And who do you love?"

"You..."

"Good..."

Dream unlocked their cuffs and watched as they fell to Y/N's side limply. Dream placed Y/N in his lap and ran his hand through their hair.

"You're all mine... And not even you're family can change that..."

#yandere dream #yandere dream smp #yandere dream x reader #yandere mcyt #dream smp x reader #dreamsmp x reader #myct x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #Yandere dreamwastaken

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zodiakuroo · 3 years

Text

Envy

EreMika is the villa’s top couple. Reader is hoping to turn one of their heads.

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Mikasa Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Contains: 18+ characters, a good ol' fashioned love triangle, possessive behaviour, dom/sub dynamics, lil angst + lotsa pining, threesome, the sex is kinda messy but so is everything else

Word count: 10.5k (yes it's proofread but it's also kinda not)

Notes: For @doinmybesthere’s love island collab! happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈

Lush, mediterranean forests, thick with leaves and the wonder of adventure hidden inside.

Snow white, sandy beaches

Cerulean waters that sparkle in the sunlight and stretch to the edge of the horizon

The view from the infinity pool really is magnificent.

“You and Armin look good together.”

“You think so?” You murmur nonchalantly. The dark shades that cover your eyes dim your surroundings, making it all the more easy for you to see the brilliant figure in front of you.

“You don’t?” Mikasa cocks her head to the side, jet black bangs sweeping across her forehead.

“Armin’s a great guy. He’s my type on paper but… I dunno… I guess I wanna keep my options open.” You chew on your bottom lip, hoping she’ll change the subject. You can’t help the guilt that sits heavy on your heart.

The ‘you’ on the outside would never do something like this. Lead on some poor, innocent soul so you can stay close to the true object of your affections, biding your time until you can confess. Only when you’re certain that said love interest is free to be yours.

“Well, I still think you should lock him down before the recoupling. I don’t want you to get sent home.” Her gentle voice chases away any shame, kind eyes reminding you how you ended up in this situation in the first place.

“Oh you’d miss me?” You adjust your sunglasses, propping them atop your head, slowly wading towards her

“Of course you idiot.” She deadpans, kicking at the water, splashing in your face a little. You squeak in surprise and retreat a little. “You’re my best friend in the villa.”

If guilt is gnawing at you from one end, on the other end is bitterness, frustration slowly building towards a fever pitch.

Still, you don’t want to think about that now. You’ll only sour this moment for yourself. It’s rare that you get her full attention like this these days.

In the beginning, you two were inseparable almost from the jump. Both of you were a little more on the reserved side, especially stepping into such unusual circumstances. Naturally, you gravitated toward each other. Simply being in each other’s presence was enough to bring both of you out of your respective shells. That was the chemistry between you and Mikasa.

But when he dug his claws into her, your crush became one half of the strongest couple in the villa, leaving you behind to bury your own feelings.

Normally he’s stuck to her like a leech with his arms hanging around her like chains as if he’s afraid she’ll make a break for it any second. Like he’s afraid she’ll realise she’s too good to be catering to his every whim, too good to put up with his moodiness and too smart to fall for his charming front.

“Are you hoping someone new will come into the villa?” Someone ‘more your type’?” She uses air quotations to copy your words.

“Not exactly.” You start, distracted by the way she adjusts her bikini top, the soft flesh bouncing ever so slightly underneath her red bikini. The skin on her nose and on the apples of her cheeks are branded a similar shade thanks to the summer sun.

Your heart thrums against the ungiving wall of your chest, as you drift slowly towards her again, this time until you’re so close you feel her feet, drifting underwater at your waist. “I already have my eye on someone.” You answer as truthfully as possible.

“Are you gonna tell me who?” She furrows her brows curiously as you wrap your fingers around her ankles, slowly moving them up to rest on her calves. You use the position to pull yourself closer to her, until your chin rests on her knees. She leans down, as though she expects you to whisper the name of your crush into her ear.

You press yourself on to tip toes, to meet her halfway. Time seems to slow as you try to figure out what to do.

Lie? Confess? Kiss her?

But time doesn’t slow and-

SPLASH

You don’t get a chance to respond after your moment is ruined with an icy splash from behind you.

“Fucking hell!” You scream swatting water in his direction.

Right on cue.

“Eren what the fuck!” Mikasa scowls at him, clearly not amused either.

“I was just messing with you guys.” The sound of his cheery laugh may as well be nails on a chalkboard to you. “Sorry babe.” He pouts.

He takes up your spot by nudging you out of the way ever so subtly. Except it’s not really subtle. Not to you anyways. It’s pretty reminiscent of when he pushed you to the side when the two of them got together. He’s telling you to remember your place.

“Grow up Jaeger.” You roll your eyes.

With his arrival, discomfort sets into your bones. She accepts his apology almost instantly as always, easily placated with simple kisses. Innocent enough at first, starting over her knees but bit by bit his lips move further and further up her thigh, until she’s pushing him away murmuring “Not here.” As if he cared…

Watching them together, the picture of lovestruck, from a distance is nauseating enough, today you don’t have the willpower to experience it firsthand as a third wheel.

You’re about to excuse yourself when you hear Sasha yell from the opposite end of the pool. “Hey guys! I’ve got a text!”

Everyone shuffles closer, awaiting the message with quiet apprehension. When Sasha opens the message she gasps before reading it, making everyone’s anxiety grow tenfold.

“You don’t have to be a math genius to know that 1+1+1 = a crowd. It’s time to simplify the equation. Eren and ______ , get ready for a date! #LoveTriangle”

All eyes are on you in an instant and you resist the urge to duck down under the water to hide from the cameras. You wonder briefly if it would be easier to breathe down there, rather than up here where the tension is suffocating. Your fellow islanders are murmuring amongst each other but the words are indiscernible, muffled by the blood rushing to your head, face burning hot with embarrassment.

Everyone around you is wearing variations of the same expression; confusion. Sure they all had theories about you and Mikasa. Not that you were exactly subtle about it. Often touches that would linger for just a little bit too long, you would always lean in just a little too close when helping her with her makeup and many a time you’d been caught staring at her from afar. It’s just a little too intimate to be completely platonic but not intimate enough to be considered anything but a friendship. Then again, you never even had a chance to take it further because the only person who didn’t seem to notice was the ever oblivious Mikasa, not when she couldn’t see past the brunette boy with the striking jade eyes.

Now, looking at those very eyes you notice how they’ve lost their usual playfulness. As the exception to the bewildered expressions around you, he looks cold and unreadable. Then the corners of his lips twitch up into a small smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes but big enough for him to flash his sharp white canines at you.

Mikasa has her eyes fixed to her hands in her lap, picking at her nails (a nervous habit she once told you). She refuses to look at neither you nor Eren.

You want to explain but the right words are nowhere to be found. Right here and now, in front of everyone (including the person she’s currently coupled up with) is not how you wanted her to find out. But you have to say something, anything to take away the melancholy that is so obviously weighing her down, but the words are stuck in your throat and before you can swallow that lump, he interjects.

“I wanna talk to Mikasa real quick.” He addresses you directly. “Why don’t you go ahead and get ready?” He phrases it as a suggestion but it’s more of an order. And just like that, your emotions flip to irritation. Who is he to tell you what to do? Even now, he wants a monopoly of her time and attention. As if your relationship (even just as a friend) might not also be damaged because of this.

And it’s not fair. You have to speak to her as well. You need to tell her that-

“It’s fine.” Her mouth pulls into a tight smile, being mindful of the cameras. It’s obviously not genuine, you can tell but you also know that she’s not one to show her true feelings, especially not publicly like this. But this feels too much for her and that brave face has never been more transparent.

Still, her slate gray irises meet yours. “I’ll be inside to help you get ready in a minute.”

You give an equally artificial smile and then swim across to the other side of the pool, where Sasha lends you her hand to pull you out of the water.

The car ride was awkward at best, insufferable at worst. You and Eren weren’t on friendly terms to begin with. Aside from the fact that he was coupled up with your crush, it was safe to say that being alone with him is not something you would ever have done willingly.

Where you found him loud and obnoxious, Mikasa found him excitable and bubbly. Where you saw him as stubborn, Mikasa saw him as driven and headstrong. Where you thought him impulsive and reckless, Mikasa thought him brave and spontaneous. When you said that he was rude and crass, Mikasa would say he was opinionated and outspoken.

It wasn’t as though she couldn’t see the bad sides of Eren but it was that she cared for him in spite of those things. Loyal to a fault she was. You let out a heavy sigh, thinking how much worse that makes all this. She must feel as though the loyalty she felt towards both you and Eren had been spat back into her face.

Silently you stare out the window, head turned away from him. A rare moment when you don’t feel the presence of camera lenses watching your every move.

Your brain is constantly replaying the last conversation you had with Mikasa. True to her word, she did help you choose an outfit and style your hair. But that natural comfort was gone.

No. That’s not true. The bond may be strained but it’s not broken. You can still do something to fix it. But neither of you were willing to address the elephant in the room.

Well, that's not exactly it.

It’s that neither of you knew how to.

Stood in front of the full length mirror, you took one last look at yourself, smoothing out the front of your sundress, but caught her sad gaze in the reflection behind you.

“Hey ____. Earlier, when you said you had your eye on someone. Were you talking about Eren?” Her voice was hushed but you feel it in your viscera, like a sharp kick that leaves you winded

You know what she’s thinking. What everyone is thinking. That you were going to swoop in and steal your best friend’s partner. And you can’t blame her because that’s exactly what it looks like.

But you didn’t betray her, you would never.

You want her. Not him.

It’s almost as though you’ll never get a chance to set the record straight. Before you could even try you were being shooed out the door.

Now at the table, you fiddle with the stem of your glass, resisting your body’s command to down the whole thing. Sitting here in silence with him for 2 hours may as well be torture if you were completely sober but it sure as hell would be better than talking to him.

Eren doesn’t seem to share your sentiments and is the first to break the silence.

“I know you don’t like me.” He says before taking a sip of his drink. “All this bullshit about a love triangle is ‘cause you like my girlfriend. Right?”

He flashes you his signature cocky smirk, one of the many things about Eren Jaeger that seem to irk you to no end.

“I mean she’s technically not your girlfriend.” You say as a feeble retort.

You are right. She’s not his girlfriend because he’s never asked her. Life in the villa was harsh like that. If your relationship wasn’t official, anyone was fair game. Really the only thing that had stopped you from making your move was the painful gnaw of your insecurity. The deep-rooted belief that she would never choose you over him. Just the idea of public rejection, in front of your friends, family and god-knows how many other people, puts the bitter taste of bile in your mouth.

“Like that fucking matters.” He leans back in his chair, long legs spread wide. At least you didn’t bother denying it, he thinks. But why would you, Eren is many things but he isn’t stupid. The way you stare at Mikasa all dreamy eyed, following her around like a stray puppy. When you two are together, he doesn’t like how you sit so close, always whispering and giggling at god knows what. You’re entirely too comfortable, letting her lay her head in your lap while you play with her hair. Small things like that add up, it’s not hard to fingers out what you true intentions are.

He’s not jealous. He’s not. Why would he be jealous of someone who doesn’t even have the balls to go after what they want? You just… bother him. You could have your pick of literally anyone in the villa but no. Instead, you’re always hovering around, waiting for him to fuck up so you can play the role of comforting best friend.

“What’s wrong?” Extra bravado backs your voice. You know this act. He’s trying to intimidate you. You always thought Eren saw himself as untouchable but the way his jaw ticks makes you wonder for a brief moment, is he threatened by you?

“Scared of a little competition? I think you’re on the wrong show.”

“Oh please.” He scoffs before picking up his glass again. “You’re no competition sweetheart.”

“Famous last words.” You hum condescendingly, before bringing your fork to your mouth, letting the food pass your lips.

He clenches his jaw tighter. Being able to push his buttons in this way is something you’re very proud of right now.

He lets out a deep exhale through his nose and says. “You know. I actually had my eye on you in the beginning.”

The bite of food seems to lodge itself in your throat, eyes bugging out of your head. You cough and sputter, quickly gulping down your drink to try and move the lump into your stomach.

“Surprised?” His voice takes on a much deeper tone.

You don’t reply, too busy fumbling for a napkin to wipe down the edges of your mouth so he continues. “Yeah. You’re hot, obviously. But also real feisty. Fun to tease and ease to get a rise out of. My type. But Mikasa…. I could tell she wanted me from the start and if I wanted to stay in this competition, I couldn’t waste any time grafting on someone who was playing so hard to get.”

“So this is all a game to you then?” You say through gritted teeth, both hands squeezing tightly around the cutlery you’re holding. All your anger is bundled up by a thin thread, ready to snap at a moment’s notice.

“I think you’re a little confused. Isn’t that exactly what this is?” He rests his chin on his palm, wearing that same chilling smile from earlier.

“You’re a real piece of shit. You know that?” You don’t want to lose your temper. Doing that means that you’ve given the upper hand back to him. Too bad you’re doing a terrible job of keeping it under control.

“Oh come on.” He laughs as if any of this is funny. “Its not like I’m leading her on.” Sharp as a dagger, those words jab themselves right in your gut. They’re a painful reminder that you don’t deserve to take the moral high ground. Thinking about what you’ve done to Armin, you may even be worse than he is.

“If I didn’t like her, I wouldn’t be bringing her tea in the morning, or making sure she ate.” Eren leans across the table, voice low and gravely. “Or making her cream all over my fingers every night while you and everyone else are fast asleep.”

You pick up the wine glass with the intention of covering his smarmy face in the blood red liquid.

Eren quirks brow at you, watching and waiting to see if you have the nerve. Because he knows that you don’t. If you did, you would have told Mikasa how you feel already. If you did, you would haven’t have latched on to the sweetest person in the villa as a fail safe. If you did, his pristine white shirt would have been stained burgundy by now.

Eren thinks you’re a coward and there’s nothing he hates more than that.

“Could have been you.” He sits back again. “Sorry I beat you to it.”

Your reception upon return to the villa is fairly mixed. Everyone is already dolled up with a drink in hand, the party in full swing.

Some people are glad to see you guys back, eagerly asking questions about the date. They might be genuinely curious as to how it went, interested in the development of new relationships or the survival of the villa’s power couple in the face of this challenge

Or they might just be in it for the drama, looking for gossip fodder. Wanting to know the details so they can go to the confessional booth and talk about how terrible of a person you are and how they would “never do anything like that to a friend”.

Other people greet you with disdain, people who would have been friendly with you mere hours ago. Armin is well liked in the villa, boyishly handsome with a kind heart. He’s a bit of a flirt at times but has never done anything with bad intentions. Of course everyone is fond of him. It’s only natural that you would look like the villain for stringing him along all this time, while he was developing genuine feelings for you.

Armin himself was angry of course, but it’s nothing if not deserved. You thought he would rage at you, call you selfish and cruel but he didn’t. Because Armin is a better person than you. You wanted to explain to him that you never meant to hurt him, but that wouldn’t mean anything because you did. In fact it would probably upset him more to hear that he was just an accidental casualty. A meek “I’m sorry” was the best you could offer. A nod and an impassive expression is all he offered in return, walking away to join Jean and some others on the daybed.

As for your date, you can feel his glare from all the way behind you as you make your way across the lawn to the bar. Mikasa is sitting on one of the stools with Sasha.

“Hey.” You interrupt Sasha’s animated chatter.

“Oh hey.” She turns to face you. While you’ve been gone she’s had time to build her defences up again, appearing stunningly neutral, not a hint of listlessness she couldn’t hide earlier. “How was the date?”

The first thing you think is She looks gorgeous tonight. But she always does.

The second thing you think is It’s time to grow a pair. Now or never.

You can still remember the sad look in her eyes from this afternoon. The thought still has your heart sitting in the pit of your stomach. The idea that it was a hurt you caused makes you want to throw it back up.

“It was…” You pause to find the right word. “Fine.” you decide on. You could have lied and said it was good but that’s probably not what she wants to hear. You could have been honest and said you would have had a better time removing your own wisdom teeth with a butter knife but that’s not the point. The date was irrelevant anyways, simple misunderstanding that you need to clear up right now. “But actually, I was wondering if I could pull you for a chat?”

Sasha hops off her chair, wobbling a bit as she lands. “Why don’t you guys stay here? I'm gonna go find Connie.” She places her hand on your shoulder, her own way of giving you a little courage.

You mouth a thank you that she meets with a wink before leaving.

You wipe your sweaty palms on the front of your dress, taking the seat across from her. Your mouth is dry and once again you can’t find the words to tell her how you feel.

Why can’t you just say it?

“So Armin is pretty mad at me. I’ll probably crash on the daybed tonight.”

You colossal idiot! You scream internally.

Once again you’re dancing around what you truly want to say.

Mikasa digs her clipped fingernails into her palm, struggling to keep her emotions at bay, dam threatening to break at any second. After everything, that’s what you came here to say? She knows it’s not your fault that you two didn’t get to talk before you left but you don’t think she deserves an explanation now?

At least Eren had the decency to come to her after. He didn’t say much except reassured her that nothing happened and he wasn’t interested in coupling up with anyone else.

Still, it didn’t quell Mikasa’s insecurity.

She’s never been jealous before in her life but this must be it. It feels like someone has dug into her chest and is squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until her poor heart is nothing but a crumpled mess.

If it had been anyone else, maybe it would have hurt less. Now she’s so afraid that she's losing you to Eren and she's losing Eren to you and in the end, she’s the one left with nothing.

“Yeah he was pretty upset when you left.” With her elbow on the counter top, she rests her chin in her palm. You’re used to her stoic expression because you know if you look long enough, carefully enough you’ll see how soft she is. But this is different. There is nothing but cold, hard steel behind her eyes.

“I deserve it though. I shouldn’t have strung him along like that.”

“Yeah I’d be mad too.” The bitter edge to her voice is one that you’ve never heard her use towards you. You try hard not to take it personally, she’s only mad because she doesn’t understand. You have to set the record straight.

Now or never right?

“Mikasa look. I have to tell you something. I-”

“I’VE GOT A TEXT!” Jean announces, getting in the way of your confession.

“For fuck’s sake.” You mutter under your breath.

It’s pretty obvious at this point that the producers have you on their hit list but as Jean reads aloud the message, it only becomes clearer that they must have some personal vendetta against you.

“Eren, you get to spend the night in the hideaway with the islander of your choice. #DecisionsDecisons”

It’s an easy decision so Eren doesn’t give it much deliberation.

But his choice shocks everyone.

“_____. It’s you and me tonight.”

Even after what transpired this afternoon, your relationship with Mikasa was salvageable but this… you don’t think it will survive

Without a word, she hops off her seat, storming into the villa without sparing a glance at anyone else.

It might have been the final nail in the coffin for his relationship with her as well.

Alone in the hideaway, you nervously tug at the silk sheets, bunching the fabric between your fingers.

You’ve been waiting here for 15 minutes, sat in your pyjamas, a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts. The possibility that Eren would stand you up becomes more and more likely. Why he would do all this instead of just choosing Mikasa is beyond you but you know better than to waste precious brain cells trying to figure out Eren Jaeger. If he did plan on leaving you alone here for the night, it was probably for the best. At least you could sleep in a room by yourself for the first time in ages. A small consolation.

Just as you start to contemplate turning off the lights and calling it a night, you hear the door of the room creak open.

Eren walks in still dressed in his jeans and white linen shirt and kicks off his shoes.

“Look Jaeger. I don’t know what you want from me but I’m not interested in playing your games. I-“

The rest of your sentence evaporates when Mikasa appears from behind him. You jump to your feet, fully prepared to leave. Did he bring you here just to humiliate you? If that’s the case then he’s had more than his fill, you won’t let him have any more fun at your expense.

“Not interested you say?” Eren raises his eyebrow, as he gently nudges Mikasa forward.

You should go but your feet just won’t move when she stands square with you. “What’s going on?” You ask, as your chest grows tighter, with every second that ticks by.

“Do you-” she pauses, after a silence that dragged on for much too long. “Do you like me?”

Everything about it is innocent; question, the tone, the way she looks at you. But now your heart is beating so ridiculously loud that you can’t think straight. She asks you so bluntly that you feel stupid for how long you’ve spent agonising over how you would confess. Unlike you, she’s never struggled to get to the point.

Behind her, Eren wears a poorly concealed smile and that’s confirmation of the obvious. You don’t know what he told her but it’s obvious she knows this much. There’s no reason to deny it now.

“Yeah.”

You had rehearsed it countless times, thought about all the flowery words you would use to tell her how you feel. Yeah is not as eloquent as what you had in mind but it would have to do.

“Oh.” Her blush deepens, blending perfectly with the red and pink hues of the dimly lit room.

Mikasa is still shocked, she didn’t really believe Eren when he told her. Granted, at the time she wasn’t really interested in what he had to say seeing as he had just publicly humiliated her. Hearing you say it now makes her rethink everything, from those early days up until now.

She’s seen people chop and change partners with every new face that comes in and out of the villa but that was never her. To her, she already had Eren so there was no need to consider anyone else. But now that she knows how you feel, things are different.

“Hmm. Oh.” You mimic followed by a dry chuckle.

It’s not the response you had dreamed about but what did you expect? Yes you’ve confessed but this wasn’t your moment. It wasn’t the one you’d been waiting weeks for. Ultimately, that moment never came and maybe that was a sign that you and Mikasa just weren’t meant to be.

The big room now feels too small for three people. There's not enough space. There’s not enough air. You need to leave. You need to-

“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” She steps closer to you. There is no malice in her tone. A simple question with a simple answer but you can’t pick up if this is a rejection or not.

“I didn’t know if you liked girls.” You mumble, taking a step back.

It’s not the reason. Maybe it’s one of them but you just needed the space to think. To breathe. But the back of your legs hit the bed and once again your backside is on the soft cushion of the mattress.

She moves even closer until her knees knock against yours.

“That doesn’t matter to me.” She shakes her head and cups your face with both hands so you look at her face, her smile (even though it’s only slight) alleviates the tension in your chest. “If I like someone, I like them and… I think I like you.

The relief that you feel meets an untimely demise when Eren approaches the bed. He pulls her body flush against his chest.

You truly were something. Here he was making it easy for you but you still can’t say what you want. A coward.

He whispers something inaudible into her ear and now you have both of them looking down at you. This is the smallest you’ve ever felt, wanting to shrink even further under their scrutinising gaze. Still, you feel a familiar tingle just buzzing in your lower belly as they size you up.

She tilts her head to the side, granting Eren access to her neck which he accepts. He plants soft wet kisses across the expanse of pale skin. Pink tongue and white teeth appear every now and then as he leaves bruises and bite marks on the, once flawless, canvas. Her eyes fall closed as she writhes in his hold, grinding her rear on to his crotch. His hands wander, underneath the hem of her short dress, exposing more of her milky thighs, black lace panties just barely visible. She hums, finally opening her eyes, to look at you, her thumbs rub circles onto your cheeks.

You can’t imagine how you look right now but you know how you feel. Your head is spinning from the erotic scene in front of you, clenching your thighs to alleviate some of the heat you feel, breathing heavily even though all you’re doing is watch, sitting there in your cartoon pajamas.

Mikasa gasps as he digs his teeth into her neck especially hard, leaving behind the dents of his incisors.

“Focus.” He murmurs into the crook of her neck.

You don’t know what he means but you can’t exactly blame her. If there were hands squeezing and clawing up your thighs, never reaching where you actually need them. If there was a tongue sliding over the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth raking over the same sore spots over and over again before soothing them with featherlight kisses and kitten licks. If you were in her place, you wouldn’t be able to focus either.

“I- I’ve never been with a girl though.”

Your mouth dries up at the promise of her words. There’s no way she means….

“But Eren said he’d help.”

Help?

There’s no chance for you to stop and question once he unzips her dress, letting it fall off her body, leaving her in her underwear in front of you. You can’t stop yourself from shamelessly raking your eyes over her body.

Yes, you’ve spent days with her, lounging around in swimsuits but this feels new. Maybe it’s the way the black lace cups the curves of her breasts, budding nipples just barely visible through the sheer fabric. Or maybe it’s the way the matching fabric only just covers her pussy, that’s just mere inches from your face. She’s so close you can practically smell her. Your tongue dips out to moisten your lips, practically dying to taste her.

Perhaps the biggest difference comes in the smouldering way she looks down at you, it’s the same desire you’ve had in your eyes for weeks, finally being reflected back at you.

Your hands twitch atop your thighs, itching to do something.

Touch her.

Touch yourself.

Anything.

She tugs at the sleeve of your shirt and that's all the instruction you need. You pull your shirt over your head, perhaps with a little more eagerness than necessary. While Eren unhooks the other woman’s bra, flinging it across the room. You feel your nipples harden instantly but you can’t be sure if it’s because it’s due to the cold air of the room or the heat of her stare on your chest.

Mikasa straddles you, stepping free from Eren’s hold. From the corner of your eye you see him unbutton his shirt but you can’t focus on him for too long. Not when your bare chests are pressed together. Both of you shudder as your nipples graze against each other and you feel the heat of her cunt radiate onto yours. You hear the sound of heavy breathing, you can’t tell if it’s hers or yours. You can smell her perfume, intoxicatingly sweet jasmine and amber. Her pupils are already blown wide, only a thin grey ring that lines the pitch black of her iris. You see your reflection of yourself in them and you can only imagine that she is seeing something similar. Mikasa has literally taken over all of your senses, all except for one.

She’s so close to you, she must be able to tell that your heart is racing. Her nose bumps against yours ever so softly. You’re almost too scared to even move. Everything about this moment feels like a dream, what if you close that millimeter gap and it ends?

But you know it's real when her petal soft lips press against yours. It can’t be anything but real when she kisses you, gently as though you might break. You can’t help but want more, slipping your tongue past her lips. And finally you taste her and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough.

You swallow all the sounds she makes as you lick the inside of her mouth, lips sliding against each other. Every whimper makes you hungry for more so you kiss her deeper, massaging her tongue with yours.

Puffs of air escape through your nose, but both of you are much too desperate to stop the kiss for something as trivial as breathing. It’s not worth losing the feeling of her mouth on yours.

Before long, your hands are wandering, trailing over the curve of her ass, rubbing over thin fabric that moulds to her body, tracing the intricate patterns of the lace. Her hand glides up your torso gripping the soft breast in her palms, making you moan into her mouth. She smiles into the kiss, rolling your nipple between her fingertips, sending small shocks of pleasure straight to your pussy.

You maneuver her body, rocking her back and forth on your lap. It’s not nearly enough friction. You’re dying to get rid of the fabric that separates you. You want to feel skin to skin how wet she is for you. You want her to know how unbelievably wet you are for her. You fiddle around trying to adjust the position, trying to get her closer to where you need her.

“Baby.” A deep voice cuts through the tension in the room. For a moment you’d forgotten he was there at all.

Much to your chagrin, Mikasa pulls away from the kiss. You’re both left panting with your lips swollen. Your heart sinks as you come to the realisation that this is as far as everything would go. One searingly passionate kiss and nothing more. You couldn’t imagine a crueler fate.

Mikasa looks over her shoulder for Eren’s instruction.

He crosses his arms over his bare chest, toned muscles rippling with the motion, and stalks over to the bed. “On your knees.”

Obediently, she sinks to the floor, kneeling in front of you with Eren directly behind her. Yes, you just made out with his girlfriend right in front of him but suddenly you’re self-conscious being half naked in front of him.

He’s staring at you and not in the ‘ogling your tits kind of way’. It’s like he’s sizing you up, breaking you down with just his eyes.

“Can I take these off?”

You blink down Mikasa, not believing your ears but you heard the words yourself, clear as day. Eren does nothing but stare, expression unreadable. The room is quiet as they wait for you to answer.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod hesitantly.

Mikasa helps you shuffle out of your shorts and panties in one go, leaving you fully naked. Your legs are already shaking, resisting the urge to snap shut out of embarrassment. You can’t hide anything, not when she holds your legs apart, exposing your bare pussy to herself and Eren.

“Look how pretty she is, Eren.” Her voice is breathy. You’ve never heard her sound like this.

It’s because she’s in awe. Day in, day out you two would lounge around in swimsuits and not once did she picture this is how you would underneath them. Perhaps it’s better that she didn’t, because the thought would drive her crazy.

“Real pretty.” He hums in agreement. He can admit, your little display had him rock solid already. But god seeing you puffy cunt, lips already shiny and slick just from making out has him aching.

Mikasa slips two fingers between your folds, barely grazing your clit.

She pulls her fingers away admiring the way your slick webs between them. She holds her hand up for Eren to see. “Real wet too.”

It proves too tempting for him to resist. Eren leans down to suck on her fingers, cleaning them of your arousal.

You wish you could deny how much it turns you on when you hear him moan at the taste of you on her fingers. But it does and you can only hope they didn't notice how you flinched at the sound.

“You wanna taste her?” He teases when he notices her pout. He’s speaking to her but looking directly at you, pinning you under his gaze. “Then ask.”

“Can I eat you out?” She doesn’t miss a beat.

That tilts your whole world. Are you really sure you’re not dreaming? You nod, not trusting your own voice right now. Mikasa spreads your legs even wider but Eren stops her, firmly grasping the back of her neck.

“Nah. Don’t make it so easy on her. She has to use her big girl words.”

If you weren’t willing to take what you wanted, then he would give it to you. Eren is a nice guy like that. But he’s not that nice. If you wanted it, you were gonna have to say so.

“Right.” She agrees. “I’ll ask again. You gonna let me taste this pretty cunt?”

Eren’s throbbing behind his zipper. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard her talk like that. It’s not a monster, more of a little green pest that buzzes around his brain asking him why she’s never said those kinds of things to him.

“Yes… please.” you answer hastily but neither of the two seem to share your urgency.

Mikasa’s touch returns, spreading your lips apart, only for her gawk at your dripping entrance, so close you feel her exhales on your skin.

The buzz in his head goes quiet because she’s waiting for his permission. She’s still his.

“Go on. Taste.” Eren whispers in her ear.

With one broad stroke, she drags her tongue across your cunt making your hips cant up towards her face, both of you searching for what the other has to give.

You will your eyes to stay open, hoping to brand the image of her between your thighs like this into the recesses of your brain. You don’t know if this will ever happen again and in case it doesn’t, you’ll have this memory.

Her tongue laps at your hole with the kind of excitement you can only hope to reciprocate by grabbing on to her silky hair, pushing her tongue further inside you. Not too hard, just enough to guide her in the direction.

She’s close. Right ther-

“Oi.” A smack echoes throughout the room. Eren is now knelt behind Mikasa, massaging the now sore flesh that was reddened by his hand.

Eren hated that you were a coward and he wanted you to take what you wanted but he’d forgotten that what you wanted was his.

Her attention is on him once again and the familiar jealousy starts to crackle in your belly. When Mikasa said that Eren would “help out” you didn’t think it meant him interrupting you two everytime you were starting to enjoy yourself. Of course it was naive of you to think that Eren would let you enjoy anything tonight. Maybe he did bring you here just to mess with you.

You hoist up your upper body to rest on your elbows just in time to see Eren take out his cock. Or rather he makes sure you see it. Gives you an excellent view in fact. It’s fully erect, bobbing against his abdomen while he gropes the flesh of her ass, giving her one more spank for good measure.

“You said you wanted to top right? Stop bein’ a fucking pushover.” He growls.

Her panties are pulled to the side, letting him press the fat, drooling head past her lips. You feel her breath come out in quick puffs against your thighs as she tries to accommodate his impressive girth. Inch by inch he’s filling her up until his hips press up right against her plush cheeks where he rests for a moment .

You look down to where her head rests on your thigh. Her face is scrunched up in either pleasure or pain, you can’t discern which.

Then Eren starts moving, slow and shallow at first and finally her eyelids flutter open. “I’m not done.” She digs her nails into your skin, making you wince. “Put that pussy back on my face.”

Eren lets out a satisfied noise. He really doesn’t know where she learned to talk like that. Even though she’s talking to you, he still feels it so he rewards her by snapping his hips faster, pulling out almost completely before ramming himself back in.

You don’t need to be told twice. Soon you’re back where you were a minute ago, Mikasa hopes to do the same, dipping her head low, already missing the taste of you on her tongue.

Sure she knows her way around her own body but she’s never eaten anyone out. She wonders if everyone tastes this sweet. Doubtful. She’s so eager for more wanting her tongue as close to the source as possible.

But before she can get there Eren chimes in.

“Nuh-uh baby. Go for the clit.”

Mikasa doesn’t argue because she knows that he’s helping her in the right direction. She can’t vouch for his skills, having had first hand experience. If she could learn to eat pussy half as good as Eren that would be enough to brag about.

She parts your slippery folds ever so delicately until she finds the swollen bud, that’s just throbbing for attention.

Her tongue hangs out of her mouth, tentatively flicking against it. She watches your face intently, taking careful note of your reaction. And what a reaction it is. Your thighs twitch beside her head, threatening to trap her between your thighs while you moan something that definitely sounds like her name.

She wants to hear it again to be sure.

“Spit on it.” He instructs her again.

You don’t think she will. The Mikasa you know would never do something so-

She doesn’t question his orders, cheeks hollowing out to collect her saliva that she allows to mix with your juices.

“See how messy she is? Fuckin’ sloppy.”

“So sexy.” She murmurs before diving for your clit again. Her tongue flicks at it haphazardly, she can’t get a good reach because of the way Eren’s thrusts shake her body. It feels good but you need more, shuffling down the bed until she can wrap her lips around the bundle of nerves. Everytime Eren hits just the right spot inside of her she moans against you, and you can feel the vibrations radiate from your pelvis up your spine.

While you’re so entranced by your own pleasure you don’t notice Eren’s lascivious stare. Mikasa being so eager to make you feel good should enrage him. He shouldn’t be this turned on, watching his girlfriend get on her knees for someone else, especially not you. But seeing the way, you’re so desperately trying to keep yourself from rutting against her face, nearly drawing blood from your bottom lip to try and keep yourself quiet. It’s adorable. But Mikasa has been too easy on you in his opinion and he doesn’t think you deserve ‘easy’. He wants to see your attitude breakdown bit by bit.

“Fingers. Use your fingers baby.” He prompts while slowing his thrusts, giving Mikasa more room to work.

One slender finger slides into your dripping cunt, feeling near no resistance on its way. Noticing how easily you take her, she’s quick to add a second, scissoring her fingers to stretch you out. High pitched ah ah ahs fall from your lips matching the rhythm of the drag of her fingers against your walls, the rhythm of Eren’s thrusts into her. It’s agonisingly slow, so she can enjoy the sight of you sucking her back in every time her fingers attempt to leave and admire the way your sticky arousal drips down her knuckles, onto the satin sheets.

Once Eren decides he’s had enough of that he picks up the pace again, meaning Mikasa has no choice but to follow suit. While her fingers pump in and out of you, she crooks them ever so slightly to try and find your g-spot.

When she prods at the spongy spot you go limp for just a second “Mikasa. Oh my god!” You squeal.

“Oho. She likes it.” Eren remarks, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “Keep doing that.”

Mikasa is nothing if not diligent. She consistently aims for that spot while her tongue stimulates your clit, stroking it over and over again. You’re practically rushing towards an orgasm, stomach muscles already tightening up and white spots already clouding your vision.

“G-gonna. Fuck. ‘M gonna cum.” You stammer, teetering on the edge.

“You hear that baby?” Eren asks. “She wants to come for you.”

Eren tugs on her hair, pulling up her head so she can answer him, but all she can manage is a string of needy whimpers.

“What do you say? Hm?” He pulls harder, not satisfied with her response.

“Mm-ah. No.” She slips her fingers out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothings.

“Atta girl.” He praises her, beginning to fuck her in earnest now.

All you can do is watch as Eren fucks her stupid on his cock, driving her closer and closer to her peak while you feel your own pleasure dissapate into nothing.

A hazy fog has descended over her eyes, she’s looking at you but she’s so far gone that she may as well be looking past you.

Eren’s hair is messy, chocolatey strands framing his face, skin dewy with sweat. The heavy plap plap plap of his hips ramming into her ass is deafening. He catches you staring and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed although you do regret inflating his already sizeable ego.

“Tell her how it feels.” He hooks his middle finger into her cheek “Tell her how good my cock feels inside you.”

He has no issue with admitting he’s being petty but he wants you to see what he does to her.

No, scratch that.

He wants you to feel it. That deep hunger you have for Mikasa? He wants a share in it too. He wants you hungry like that for him too.

“Feelsh shhho good. Eren’shh cock feelsh sshoo good.” Her words are barely coherent, drool seeping from the corners of her mouth.

“Hmm. Ask her if she wants it.” He grunts.

“You want him to fuck you?” She slurs, words distorted by the obstructing force of his finger.

Do you?

Before you would swear up and down that you hated Eren. You still do. But Mikasa has gone delirious on his cock, mouth hanging open with her tongue lolling out, whining muffled “Eren Eren Eren”s even with him fish hooking her, and you can’t deny that it has you curious. It doesn’t help that you’re still desperate, from being left high and dry, poor empty pussy just begging for attention.

You shake your head yes and Mikasa’s hand comes down hard on your sore puffy clit. “Words.”

“Yes please.” You mewl. Tears prickle at your eyes from the sting between your legs. “Please. I want Eren to fuck me.”

“So well behaved.” Eren mocks you. “Hm?” He stops moving, still balls deep inside her.

“Good girl.” Mikasa practically purrs, lifting her head up once more. The small praise makes you feel flustered, desperate for more.

“Yeah?” His palm comes down hard on her ass. She almost sounds delighted at the pain. “What are you gonna do for your good girl?”

“I’m gonna make her cum on my tongue.” With that she’s back into your pussy, face first, suckling on your clit with quick pulses and pumping into you with three of her fingers.

It doesn’t take long for her to bring you back to that peak. Maybe because she left you on the edge just a moment ago only to let you watch her get fucked within an inch of her life. Maybe it’s you’ve been wanting this, fantasizing about this for weeks. Or maybe it’s because (as per usual), Eren Jaeger doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up, a string of filthy words falling from his lips.

“You're doing so well baby.” He still hasn’t moved, more focused watching Mikasa fuck you open on her fingers. She’s so focused on making you cum, he wonders if she’s even listening but he knows that you are. “Gonna make that sloppy pussy cum so good. Let her make a mess all over your face.”

That’s the catalyst. It’s then that you’re falling into the abyss of pleasure, legs shaking as you writhe on the bed, while Mikasa’s fingers ride you through your high, gradually coming to halt as everything subsides.

When you finally feel grounded again, you open your eyes in time to see Eren pull Mikasa’s face towards him. Tonguing at her mouth, licking inside and around it to clean off the remnants of your orgasm. You watch longly from the bed as their tongues tangle together, tasting the mixture of you and each other.

When Eren has had enough, Mikasa turns to you, spit-slicked face gleaming under the dim lights. “My turn right?” She asks you, still slightly breathless.

Eren answers in your stead. “Yeah, take these off.” He stretches the elastic of her underwear so it can flick back against her skin. He’s trying very hard to sound indifferent because he’d be mortified if you knew how eager he was to see Mikasa rut against your face until she cums.

“Move up.” The instruction is for you this time, Eren patting your knees that still dangle over the edge of the bed. You clamber up until your head lands on the soft, downy pillows, body sprawled on the length of the mattress now. Eren crawls on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs. Mikasa sits next to your head, now sans panties.

He nudges against your tender pussy with the bulbous head of his cock, spreading your lips apart ever so slightly.

You don’t expect a ceremony, closing your eyes in anticipation for the burn you know is coming. It never does.

“Beg for it.”

Your eyes fly open, face immediately moulding into a scowl. He looks down at you with unabashed cockiness, clearly amused at your frustration.

“You fucking bastard! I-“

“_____. “ Mikasa trails her hand down your neck, grazing over your sternum and tracing the underside of your breast and circling your areola. Your nipples stiffen under the light touch. “He said ‘beg’.”

“But I already said it, didn’t I!?” Your irritation simmers when you address her, still deep down you cringe at how petulant you sound.

Eren’s hand comes down hard against your pussy and you let out a loud cry on impact. His hands are bigger, stronger and harder than Mikasa’s and that one spank leaves your whole pussy aching.

“Told you babe. You were being too soft.” He slides his tip through your folds while you twitch underneath the two of them, spreading is pre-cum around, mixing it with your juices. “Now she thinks she can get whatever she wants.”

She takes your nipple between her fingers, tugging on it gently. “Is that true?” She twists it hard, making you wince. “ I thought you were a good girl.”

She soothes the sore nipple by laving her tongue across it but the reprieve doesn’t last long as she sinks her teeth into the hardened nub.

“I’ll be good!” You whimper.

You're dizzy from the teasing; Mikasa playing with your tits, mouth around one nipple while her hand gropes the other one and the torturous drag of the full length of Eren’s cock up and down your pussy. It’s slow enough for you to feel every ridge and vein around him, always stopping to tease your entrance, but never giving you the stretch you’re craving.

“P-please.” Your voice is hoarse. “Please Eren fuck me. Pleasepleaseplease.”

He’s content with that; hearing you beg for him. He would never admit out loud that he’s jealous but there is a certain envy that sits heavy in his bones knowing that you want his girlfriend and she wants you just as bad. That's why it helps to know that, at the same time, you want him and he wants you too, just in a different way. It's messy and twisted, perhaps a little too complicated to unravel now. Because right now he wants to fuck you until you cry.

Yeah, that’s the way he wants you

In one quick, smooth motion he enters. You let silent scream and just as you feel full enough to burst, he reaches his hilt.

Mikasa lets go of your nipple with a pop and murmurs, “There’s my good girl.” Against the shell of your ear.

Without warning, Eren starts to move, impossibly deep thrusts, moulding your walls to the shape of him. He prods against a spot inside you that has your back bowing off the bed but he holds you down by planting one of his large hands firmly on your stomach.

Soon, he’s fucking you hard and fast. He can’t help it. The loud sound of your sopping wet cunt squelching every time he slides home, dripping down his hefty balls as they slap against your ass with each brutal thrust, was just egging him on.

That, combined with the sweet-sounding quiet moans of his girlfriend with her hand between her thighs, rubbing quick, quick circles while she’s seemingly unable to take her eyes off of the both of you.

She perches up on her knees to get a better look. Wanting to see exactly where he enters you, wanting to see your pussy stretched out way more than her slim fingers could do.

The creamy ring that encircles the base of Eren’s cock makes her shudder. She feels a sense of pride, knowing that translucent strands of your cum was because of her. Part of why you’re so sex-drunk right now is because of her.

“Eren.” She purrs. “You’re fucking her so good. Making her feel so good.” She uses her free hand to tweak at her nipples, eyes flitting frantically between you and him.

“F-fuck!” You cry out as Eren bottoms out and stays there. He leans over you, face hovering just above yours, the strands of his hair brushing over your cheeks. His pelvis is against your clit, providing delicious pressure but not much else.

“Open.”

It takes a moment for you to process that he’s giving you an instruction. But then, you slacken your jaw, lips parting.

“Looks like you can listen huh?” He sneers. “Stick out your tongue.”

And you do.

It’s all so Eren can drop a glob of spit from his mouth into yours. He makes sure he does it slowly, so that the string of saliva can stretch and stretch and stretch until it plops unceremoniously on your waiting tongue.

“Don’t swallow. Keep it there.”

He gives you another one, coating your tongue in his spit while your own begins to pool in your mouth.

“Hey babe. You didn’t get to cum.” He addresses Mikasa. He gives you one shallow thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“Yeah?” She perks up, catching the meaning behind his words.

“Yeah.” He grunts, one more of those thrusts that puts him so deep you feel like he’s fucking the air out of your lungs.

She leans over you too now. Two pairs of eyes, look down on you from above. You blink your eyes shut, trying to escape their scrutiny.

“Open your eyes, sweet girl.” Mikasa coaxes you out of your sheepishness. She purses her baby pink lips, as if considering her next words. “Make me cum. Can you do that for me?”

For the third time that night, you have to question if you’re dreaming or not.

You nod your head a yes, feeling your own saliva pool in your mouth.

“So, so good.” Mikasa tells you.

“Shit.” Eren’s hips jerk against you, when. you squeeze tight around him when she tells you that. “Say that again.” He grits out.

Mikasa is positioning herself, facing Eren with her knees next to your ears, soaking wet pussy just an inch or so above your face.

“What?”

Their conversation is nothing but a faint buzz in the back of your mind, how could you focus on anything except what was right in front of you. Her pretty pink pussy, all wet just for you. The smell of her is heady, rich and sweet. The kind of thing you would get addicted to. God if she would only….

“——, you're such a good girl.” She sighs as she finally sinks down, resting directly on your face.

You moan involuntarily, finally getting to taste what your mouth has been watering for. You let your tongue stay still, letting her grind herself down on it. She tries to roll her hips in fluid motions but they stutter every time her clit rolls over your tongue as she lets out the most melodic moans.

You know that you’re being greedy now, but you can’t help it, the more she gives you, the more you want. Your hands fly up to her thighs and hold her in place. The tip of your tongue catches the rim of her leaking hole, trying to draw more of the sweet honey.

Eren clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “There you go again, letting her do whatever she wants.”

She pays him no mind, slipping her hand between her thighs to play with her clit, while your tongue massages the inside of her walls. “You’re just mean. She just wants to make me feel g-good r- ah right?” She rubs Her other hand tweaks one of your nipples, signalling to you that she wants an answer.

You moan a yes, muffled by the weight of her. You’re darting your tongue in and out of her pussy, unintentionally matching the pace of Eren’s unyielding thrusts.

She rolls the pulsing numb under her fingers, round and round. Her breathing quickens as she tries to bounces on your face; shallow up and down movements.

You can tell she’s close and briefly lament the fact that you won’t be able to see her face when she cums. You wish you could see what she looks like when that wave of pleasure finally crests. But when her knees dig into the mattress beneath her and rooting her firmly against your face, moaning your name as the waves of an orgasm rock her body, you can’t bring yourself to regret a thing. You’d let Eren have that. Getting to swallow down every drop that spills from her is more than a fair trade-off.

You clamp down on Eren’s cock, quickly approaching another orgasm of your own. Mikasa rides out hers by rutting against your tongue, her moans gradually fading into gasps.

“Make her real cum real hard okay ‘Ren?” She still hasn’t fully regained her bearings before she climbs off your face, (much to your dismay). “She really earned it.” She sighs giddy with bliss, plopping down beside you, turning her body to face you.

Eren huffs. “Your wish is my command.” His reaches your raw clit, rubbing it in harsh circles, setting your nerves alight like a livewire. There’s no way you could have held off your orgasm. Your muscles pull taut as you cum around his cock while he pummels your g-spot throughout your climax. As soon as you’ve come down, he pulls out of you. You whine, despite yourself, disappointed at the abrupt emptiness.

Eren mutters various expletives as he strokes himself over you. He’s coated in your cum and it makes the most obscene noise with every flick of his wrist. He releases onto your stomach hot, white ropes of cum shooting out, streaking from your belly button right down to the mound of your pussy. He milks his cock, desperate to get out every last drop, jolting his hips with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He collapses on your other side, leaving you sandwiched between the couple.

For a moment the room is filled just with heavy breathing, the three of you recovering from your recent activities.

Mikasa drags her fingers across your torso, smearing Eren’s cum over your skin.

Your body is sticky all over, a mess of sweat and sex. All of you are. But you’re not able to get your muscles to move, just yet.

As the lust that fogs your brain clears, nagging questions start to rear their head.

‘What does this mean for us now?’ being the most pertinent.

You roll over, to face Mikasa.

Perhaps now isn’t the time to ask, but you’ve learned your lesson about waiting until the right time. It’s in everyone’s best interest to clear it all up as soon as possible.

“So um- agh!” you choke around a sudden intrusion and a salty taste spreads across your taste buds.

“Not now.” Mikasa gags you with two of her digits that are coated in Eren’s cum.

“Yeah.” Eren jostles behind you. His sinewy arm snakes around your waist pulling you into his chest. At the small of your back you can feel his dick pressed up against you, already at half mast. “We’ll talk later.”

#love island collab #dyk it’s mandatory for islanders to go to therapy after the show #i think my subconscious took that info and ran #CAUSE THEY ARE ALL SO BAD AT FEELINGS???#and have 0 communication skills #eren yaeger smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger smut #aot x reader #aot smut #eren smut #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman smut #eren yaeger x reader #mikasa x eren #mikasa x eren smut #tw spitting

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huenjin · 4 years

Text

attention.

pairing — bang chan x reader

word count — 2.8k words

ratings — 18+

genre — smut, includes thigh riding, groping, hand job, dry humping, dry sex.

note — i needed to post something for my baby's bday but i had none written so i had to post some real old writing and like i love you, channie.

You open the door to the room only to see Chan working hard on his laptop, typing away his time with his eyes fixated on the screen, moving the buttons the way he needed. You sigh and lean against the panel of the door in vain.

Chan is always caught up in his work. And no matter how many times you've asked him to leave his work at the studio and come home to you just as him, it is useless. You come home only to find Chan making music or sleeping because the day is exhaustive. It had been days since Chan had given you any attention. It had been months since your boyfriend had even taken you out on a date.

Beyond everything, you are sexually frustrated.

The purple vibrator that you had bought for occasions such as these helped you to an extent but none comes even close to the effect Chan's cock has on you. You had taken a bite of the sweet apple and it is way too late to go back now.

"Chan," you call out as you walk slowly towards him, taking small strides, praying tonight is going to be a lucky one. Your boyfriend hums in response. His attention is still fixated on his work and you are genuinely getting agitated with every minute that passes by.

"Channie," you whine and lean over his shoulder as you stand behind him. Chan merely smiles and continues his work, pressing the headphones closer to his ear as he taps on a few buttons before pressing the keys on the keyboard before him. You watch the screen for a minute before looking at him, staring at his side profile.

You propel yourself a bit further, letting your hot breath fan over his ears and the side of his face and neck. Chan ignores your presence so obviously and lets you be.

You kiss his neck. Chan stops for an instant, surprised by your sudden action, not expecting it, before continuing with his work. You are slowly getting irked over the fact that Chan is still not giving you enough attention.

You trail kisses up and down his neck before parting your lips slightly and sucking on his neck in an attempt to form a distinct hickey. A sigh escapes from Chan's mouth and that seems to have led him to press on keys only quicker, that is only after a surprised quick press on one of them — the shrill sound echoing off the walls.

You suck, letting slick noises emit from your mouth. You let the free hand roam around your body, trying to grab a feel. You are after all only wearing Chan's shirt with no undergarments underneath. He would not have observed that though. It has been long since Chan has observed you even.

The free hand of yours trails down to the hemline of his shirt before letting it travel underneath, as it touches and caresses every corner and crook of his body.

"Y/N," Chan finally utters. "Stop. I have work to do."

"And I've work to do," you assert. Tongue clicking before pressing it against your inner cheek. "So, let's just stick to what we were doing as you pleased," you snarl at your boyfriend. You stand up straight and begin unbuttoning Chan's shirt that you are wearing before the man himself, who has turned around to see your antics.

You slowly opened the button one after another, taking your own time, letting Chan die in agony internally as he lets out a small groan. He stomps slightly, rocking his leg. You raise your eyebrow and ask, "I thought you had work."

Chan stretches his arms out and catching hold of your hips, he pulls you onto his lap. The impact leads to the half-opened shirt to fall off one of your shoulders showing a lot of your left breast.

With your face ever so close to Chan, you can see the dark circles underneath his eyes. The poor man has been working himself to death. His eyes have lost their spark and you genuinely wish that Chan would let go once in a while and enjoy the present.

However, you can also see how beautiful he is - his rosy lips that are parted and his nose that is sharp. Chan is a beauty carved from the finest and you are glad to call him yours.

"Fuck," Chan swears under his breath. You smile. You lift your hand and stretching your index finger, you poke Chan's head, pushing it back.

"I lead today," you mumble, cupping Chan's face. "I lead and get what I want today because you've been a bad, bad boy these weeks."

Chan gulps, his eyes turning a shade darker. He stretches his hands back to shut his laptop. You lean forward and catch Chan midway for a kiss. You hold his face, guiding and directing the kiss, being forceful and trying to show the dominance you clearly lacked. Chan always led and it is taking you a long time to get used to what you had asked for.

"But, Y/N," Chan protests as you break off the kiss. "What did I do wrong?"

You get off his lap and Chan's eyes widens. You clearly catch sight of Chan's growing hard-on and smile to yourself. You fold your arms and in the process, push your breasts up.

"I want to ride you," you say and Chan smiles, "So be it."

"No," you cut him off. You had intended to be elaborate, even though you shied away. You just did not want to ride him (not that that wasn't a dynamic experience of its own). You wanted to ride his thigh. Every time you see Chan walk in those tight leather jeans with his thighs looking perfect, you could not have helped but wonder how it'd feel like riding it.

"Then?"

"You don't question me, love," you lean forwards, your breasts shaking due to the impact. "I do the questioning." You giggle slightly and Chan smiles, even though deep down, he finds you so hot that he could melt.

"I want to ride your thighs," you tell him in a tone lower than it is originally as you edge closer to him and bend over to face him directly.

Chan gulps. He knows deep down that as much as he longs to have the reins back with him, you trying your best to look dominating is sinful.

"Can I?" You ask, accidentally. Your eyes widen as you realise and you quickly look down. Chan smiles and blinks in response to let you have your moment. You seem to have been trying really hard, after all.

You slightly part Chan's legs, giving you space to accompany yours. Before sitting on them, you flip your hair to let it rest on one shoulder of yours and lean forward to remove Chan's white shirt.

You are pleased, nonetheless to say. Chan has an effect on you, undoubtedly. However, you are still standing in front of him, strong and determined to have your way. You had feared initially that you'd be already begging for him and his devious ways with you.

Chan stares at you, ensuring that he did not break contact with you at all. That you still had him in the way you wanted, ready to dominate. He knows you liked it and you do truly. You lift Chan's shirt up as he allows you to and throw it to a corner.

Fucking minx, Chan screams out loud in his head. He watches you closely. Chan has always loved to do that. Yes, he is guilty as charged for being so caught up in his work, but he realises his mistake. He is, after all, missing out on all this.

But if it were his lack of attention that led you to be a vamper, he wouldn't mind doing this all over again.

You take a deep breath as you look at Chan, gaze lingering up and down and finally letting your eyes land on his thighs. His thick thighs. Chan's thighs are one of the many reasons for your wet dreams. His thighs, that are so tight and firm, look like they are made of steel. They even enhance his beautiful backside besides his crotch that they almost steal all the attention from his already handsome face.

So, you are not exactly surprised this morning when you wake up, drenched in your sweat, panties damp all because you dreamt of riding Chan's thighs. That dream edges you to the ultimate levels of endurance of your sexual frustration.

"Are you rethinking everything?" Chan asks out of concern. You face Chan, head lifting slightly. You are intimidated by your own fantasies as much as you want to try it out. Chan understands this and you realise that that is one of the million reasons why you love him.

"Yes," you mumble, embarrassed. You end up just making a fool out of yourself and nothing more. You can feel the ground below you slipping as you drown in your own embarrassment until —

"That was hot," Chan's voice resonates in tones lower and he pulls you onto his thigh so suddenly that you let out a squeal subsequently followed by your eyes widening at what happened.

"Chan," you let out a sigh. Your hands extend to grip on Chan's shoulder for some sort of balance while his huge hands hold your hips in position.

"Would you let me take control?" Chan asks, leaning forward. His breath warms your neck and a sharp rush of tingles run down your spine, making you slicker than you already were. Chan is kind enough to ask you to hand over the reins; however, he also looked like he would take them even if you didn't give it to him.

You nod and that is a signal enough for Chan. Holding your hip down onto his thighs more precisely, he pulls you forward towards him. You gasp at the friction and your head drops forward, resting momentarily on Chan's neck. You can feel him growing against your thigh as it is pressed. Your breath is already getting irregular.

"Grind on my thighs, baby," Chan whispers into your ear and catches hold of your earlobe between his teeth.

On that cue, you press your core, dripping, further into his thighs and start grinding on him slowly.

"Chan, oh," your words ever so slowly turning into moans, each of a higher frequency than the previous one, "Oh my God."

Your voice is trembling. You can feel the sensation in your centre, spreading and vibrating through your whole body. You hold onto Chan's shoulder tighter than you already are. Your brain is slowly releasing oxytocin and endorphins. Bliss is all you feel. And Chan's thick thigh.

Chan lets out a deep grunt as he watches the sight before him. You are moving back and forth on his thighs and you look to have found heaven momentarily. Your face is washed with a look of pleasure as you moan his name over and over and over again as if he is the reason why you are breathing at this moment. Your eyes are shut tight and you rub yourself on his thighs. Chan can arguably say for sure that this is one of his favourite looks on your face.

Your right hand drops from his shoulder and you allow it to land on his covered girth. He was thick everywhere and you love it. You open your eyes, looking at Chan and letting him see how lost you are in seventh heaven. Chan helps you move quicker on his thigh subsequently as he pulls you back and forth. You grip on his covered shaft, giving it a few pumps as much as the covered denim permitted you to.

The air is soon filled with the sounds of your loud moans and his deep grunts. Your body is firmly grinding on his thighs. Your hand is pumping Chan and moving around his covered shaft rhythmically. Chan's hands, that are holding you down onto his thighs, are flexed which helps him guide you to grind on himself quicker. The friction from moving to and fro his tense thighs, that he flexed occasionally to emit a louder moan from you, sends waves of pleasure slowly through your clit.

"C-Chan," you screamed, not caring for anyone hearing you being a moaning mess, "I'm close. I'm so f-fucking close."

Chan's eyebrows quirk up. He knows that you are close. He has always known when you are close. Your lips quiver, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you tremble. Chan loves seeing you like this - like the moaning mess you are for him, unrestrained and loud.

He moves one of his hands. You let out a sigh at the loss of contact and you grip on his cock a little harder, rubbing it quicker. He slips one of his thumbs between your bodies to find your button.

"Aha," Chan smiles to himself on finding it and starts pressing on it, letting his thumb move in small circles, considering the limited space he had.

"Chan— fuck!" You moan and your head rolls backwards in sheer pleasure. "Oh my." You grip harder on his shoulders to balance yourself, your one hand still wrapped warmly around his manhood.

"Oh my fuck," you scream out loud, followed by the repeated chanting of his name when your climax hit you. You feel like your core is exploding and your eyes screw shut as you keep riding Chan's thigh sloppily.

"That's it, baby," Chan encourages you, whispering to you to continue. He grunts as he bucks into your hand that was wrapped around his cock. His one hand that is on your clit, now wraps around your hand, guiding you and helping you to squeeze him harder to reach his own high. Your head tilts slightly as you watch Chan's face slowly morph into one of extreme pleasure. He looks sinful, not that he normally doesn't.

You let out a whimper as his thighs move up along with his hips, providing more friction to your sensitive core. Your hand moves up and down his shaft, adjusting on how Chan's facial expressions changed. With a few hard thrusts from Chan himself into your hands, he finally explodes in his denim pants, the stain that is brought thanks to his precum, making its way bigger on the front and he emits a loud grunt. You watched in admiration how Chan thrusts a bit more into your hands.

Your bodies slowly halt in their movement. Your high subsides along with Chan's as your breath returns to normalcy. Chan leans forward to peck you on your lips lovingly, which is soon followed by a deep longing kiss. You pull away to face Chan who has leaned sideways to pick up the shirt of his that you had been wearing. He drapes it over you, pulling the open seams closer and lovingly caresses your face, with an expression of gratitude.

"That was perfect," he said, rubbing small circles with his thumbs on your skin at your hip. He looks at you with droopy eyes and a careened body.

"It felt amazing." You feel comfortable now, your head resting on his shoulder. Chan does not make your sexual fantasies seem weird. He never did and you feel blessed.

"I'm sorry," Chan cups your face and presses his forehead to yours. "I'm sorry for being so caught up with work that I haven't been paying much attention to you."

Chan looks sincerely into your eyes and you feel your heart warm up. This man loves you with no bounds and you love him for everything so much.

"It's alright," you tell him as you pull away and kiss his forehead. Chan and you stay like that for a while in each other's overwhelming presence. "I love you, Chan."

"So much more, Y/N," he hugs you warmly. Pulling you away, minutes later and holding you at an arm's length, Chan smiles stupidly at you with his eyes glistening.

"If ignoring you means this, I'm ready for this all over again," he sheepishly agrees and you laugh, flicking his forehead as you jokingly gasp. The room resonates your laughter accompanied by Chan's soon after — just two blessed souls with hearts next to each other.

"Asshole, why do I even adore you?"

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corpsedaydream · 4 years

Text

not such a merry christmas

corpse husband x reader

hi hi so it’s 4:20am lmao i’m not kidding

so i know i said i wasn’t going to be on over christmas but christmas wrapped up late for me and i wasn’t ready to sleep and i just started writing and this is what came of it. i know that christmas isn’t always exactly a happy time for everyone bc family and holidays can be complicated sometimes. so if ur struggling or experiencing anything negative or just not rly enjoying christmas. this ones for u friend and i’m sending love ur way

word count: 2085

_______________________________

You had mixed feelings about this time of year.

The holidays.

On one hand, it meant you had some free time to enjoy some quality time with your nearest and dearest. And on another hand, it meant that you would be potentially finding yourself in situations where you would be spending time with family members who you would maybe rather not spend time with.

When you were young, Christmas always felt so magical. Now you were older, Christmas felt more like an anxiety inducing chore.

You’d talked to Corpse about your family a many of times, because for the most part, you really did love your family so much. You felt lucky to have been born into the family you were - again, for the most part. There was one particular sibling who you wouldn’t include in those feelings. Unfortunately, toxic people existed and extra unfortunately, sometimes those people were related to you. After four months of being with Corpse, he thought he had come to learn all of who were apart of your family. But then you were reminiscing on a childhood memory and when sharing it with your boyfriend, he heard a name he hadn’t heard before. When he questioned you on it, he noticed the immediate change in you. The smile left your face and you went timid and very quickly, you shifted the conversation topic. You were acting in a way he had never seen you be like before, usually you were so open and talkative and here was a brother you had never mentioned and definitely didn’t want to talk about.

He didn’t push it any further that day, figuring you would tell him when you were ready. That time came in November, on the 25th.

You remembered it well, Corpse was going through his emails when he asked you, “Baby, what’s the date?”

“November twenty-fi-” You cut yourself off.

“What?”

You were silent for a moment, you didn’t realise that Christmas had snuck up this quickly. It was only a month away.

“Baby?”

“Sorry- um,” you glanced to him, giving him a meek smile before continuing, “it’s November 25th.”

He noticed that shift in you again. “Are you okay?”

And on that day, you opened up to him. Told him about the terrible memories that haunted days that should have and could have been really happy days had it not been for a bullying, negative family member. How now, you seemed to dread Christmas because of this fact.

“Why don’t you just not go?” Corpse had questioned you, he said it as if it was the most clear outcome, but it wasn’t like for you. It was so much easier for him to say that then it was for you to do.

“I couldn’t do that to the rest of my family.”

“Why? You can see them on any other day?”

“It’s Christmas, I couldn’t not go.”

“It’s just the same as any other day if you think about it.” As much as he had cared and listened to you opening up to him, it was hard for him to understand you on this. You grew up in vastly different family dynamics.

“Not to my family, it’s important.”

The two of you continued to go back and forth for a little bit before you realised the stubbornness you both shared wasn’t going to allow you to take in the other’s perspective.

In fact, the two of you didn’t speak about it again until two days before Christmas Eve. You were spending the day together because you were planning on leaving that night to stay at your parents house until boxing day. And as your leaving time was drawing closer and closer, it was visibly clear to Corpse how anxious you were feeling about it.

“(Y/N),” he had called for you attention and you looked to him, “I really don’t want you to go.”

A soft smile was offered to him. “I’m going.”

“But I can fucking see how this is affecting you. You’re dreading it, please don’t go.”

You sighed before answering him. “I have to go.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Please, Corpse, I don’t want to go over this again. I’m already feeling nervous about it.”

“Then stay with me for Christmas, you won’t have to feel nervous about anything, we can just be here having our own good time.”

You knew he was just trying to be there for you, but it seemed this was not something the two of you could find a common ground on. “It’s not that simple.”

But if only it had been that simple. If only you had listened to Corpse. Because you wouldn’t be where you were right now. Sitting in your car with tears running down your face. It was 5:05pm in the afternoon on Christmas Day and you’d made a dash out the front door while everyone else sat down to eat dinner. You had tried your best to stay strong, to ignore your toxic brother but when someone was constantly saying and doing things to try to bring you down, you’d broken. You wished you could pull it together, so you could go back inside for the people you wanted to be with, but you truly couldn’t take it any longer. You would call and apologise to your Mother tomorrow, you felt bad for leaving her the most.

You shouldn’t have been driving in the state you were in, tears kept blurring your vision and your mind was so distracted you knew you really weren’t paying enough attention. But by some miracle, you had made it to where you wanted to be. And in one piece and it wasn’t your own place. You were parked out the front of Corpse’s place and how you just longed to be in his arms right now.

Heavy feet carried you to his front door and before you could get the chance to knock, Corpse had already swung the door open.

“Thought I saw your car pull up- oh, fuck,” His tone was happy at first, surprised with happiness that you were there until he took notice of the state you were in. Your foundation was streaked by the thick and fast tears that had fallen down your cheeks. Your mascara and eyeliner tracked black lines, too. Your nose had the makeup removed from it and it was displaying red due to the amount of times you’d rubbed at it. And oddly enough, a Santa Hat was still sitting atop your head. Corpse had never seen a more gloomy Christmas Hat appearance. “Baby, c’mere.”

He wouldn’t hesitate to stretch out his arms to pull you in close and you so gladly accepted. When you were resting against him, his arms would be holding you so tight and yours clutching at his hoodie he was wearing, he’d kick his foot out to shut the front door once the two of you were inside. Small sobs were already leaving your body, but feeling the familiar and protective grip of Corpse really just made you break more. You were safe here, you were safe with him, you could get out any emotion you needed to, and so you did.

Sobs wracked your entire frame, it was loud, vocal and physical crying. Corpse had seen you cry before, but never like this. It was hurting him to see you so hurt. He was so concerned for you, he didn’t have to ask if you were okay, your display was making it clear you weren’t. When he could start to feel your feet starting to give out and your weight became heavier against him, and he not only heard but also felt you choking on your own cries and starting to really struggle to breathe, he felt the need to do more.

Gently, he’d bring you down to the floor with him. He’d sit with his back against the wall and grab your thighs to have you sit in his lap, your legs straddling him. He would pull you in tight enough so your chest and torso was completely against his, the two of you couldn’t be brought any closer if you tried.

“I need you to try taking some deep breaths for me.” He’d tell you right in your ear, needing you to hear him over your violent cries. And so you did, but each one was uneven and would catch in your throat and make you cough.

His hand would be rubbing big, deliberate, heavy circles into your back with a force to make its presence known, a tactic he hoped would calm you. He was caught off guard to see you like this, but after opening up to him about your toxic sibling and how anxious you had been to be around him again, he wasn’t exactly shocked. He was so concerned for you but a part of him was also furious that someone had treated you in such a terrible way to put you in this state. He now wished he had worked harder in getting you to stay with him, if you were with him, you were safe, he wouldn’t let harm - especially like this - come to you.

“I’m here.” Corpse would assure you with a longing kiss to the side of your head, rocking you back and forth.

And eventually, while sitting there, being cradled in his arms, your cries would quieten, your sobs wouldn’t make you shake so violently and your breathing would return to a more regular state.

“Feel better?” He’d ask you once you reached that more stable point and you’d nod your head from its place against his neck before doing a much needed yawn. “You’re tired?”

“Exhausted.” You’d confirm.

“Should we go lay down?” He was still holding you so strongly and securely but being so gentle with how he spoke to you.

“Yeah, I want to get some painkillers first, though, my head hurts.”

“Want to take off the Santa hat?”

“No.”

“What, why?” Your answer surprised him.

“I’ve had it on all day, I’ll have really bad hat hair.” You admitted and Corpse laughed and had you been in a better mood, you would have joined in on the laughter. But it did lift your spirits to even just simply hear him laugh.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“It will be.”

Corpse laughed softly again and shook his head slightly and when he felt you relax against him again, he brought up his hand to quickly pull the hat from your head.

“Hey!” You lifted your head then and he was relieved to see no more build up of tears in your eyes anymore.

“You’ll feel better without it on.” He argued your protest, smiling a small smile and you couldn’t help but to mirror it, which made Corpse elated to see.

“Okay, but don’t you dare look at my hat hair.” You told him and because he knew your eyes were on his, he intentionally lifted his eyes to your hair. “Corpse!” You called his name with a laugh and he was so happy to hear you laugh instead of cry. “Stop it.” You spoke through more giggles and your hands came up to land on your head over your hair until Corpse grabbed your wrists and moved your hands out of the way. “Hey!” Squirming your arms to get your wrists out of his grasp. Once you freed them, you’d place your hands over his eyes.

“Baby, let me look at your beautiful hat hair.”

“No!” You both would laugh then and this time when your boyfriend took hold of your hands to move them off of his eyes, it would be soft and he’d lift them to bring back his vision and bring your hands down a little to place kisses into the palms on each of your hands.

“You know you don’t have to hide anything from me, right?” On the surface, it could’ve sounded like Corpse was talking about just the hat hair, but on a deeper level, he meant this so wholeheartedly, and you understood.

So you’d nod. “I know. Thank you.”

And Corpse knew that once again, when you were ready you’d tell him about what took place on that Christmas Day, but for right now, he didn’t need to know. All he needed to know is that now you were okay and you were safe and you were with him.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too.”

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #corpse husband fanfiction #writing #mine

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sakarrie-creates · 3 years

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Heyo!!! I know I’m a bit far into the new year, but with this being my first year of digital art, I really wanted to make sure I got this so I can start my build up to compare future years to! This also includes a fair few pieces of art I haven’t posted so take that as reward for actually looking haha. You can find the blank template here!

A few end of year questions cause I love self-reflection way too much!

What was your biggest challenge this year?

Man it really depends on the project! In the beginning, it definitely was anatomy and perspective. I had so much stuff that I wanted to draw but just didn’t feel like I had the ability or knowledge to pull it off. That being said, after I found position references and 3D models, that was way less of a stress, and positioning the individual joints I feel taught me a lot on it’s own just about how different body positions look. After that, it moved into the steep learning curves of animation and lighting. I have an animatic project that I want to see come to life so bad, but I’ve had had to realise it’s going to take a lot of practice with other random animatics/animations to feel like I can full that off. I also have just had a consistent fear of backgrounds and lighting, neither of which I’ve done anymore than dip my toes in still.

If I had to pick one single challenge for the year though, I’d say it was just the mere vastness of tools and styles at my fingers tips. I had so much I wanted to do and so many tools I wanted to use, but they all took (and are taking) a very long time to get used to. Just as I start to feel comfortable with my toolset, I realise there’s a better way of doing something and start back at the “beginner” stage. All being considered, though, that definitely isn’t too bad of a challenge to have haha.

What was something you were surprised by?

Other than the absolute bottomless pit that is CSP’s features? Okay, but for real. That thing is crAZY. Hmmmm I think maybe how much my style varied? I feel like even through I draw Player and Carmen all the time, they still look different in 80% of my pictures. Other than that... maybe how okay I am with my shading? Like, on basically all of these that I even attempted shading on, I thought it was absolutely terrible and obviously incorrect. Looking back through in putting this together, though. I was definitely surprised to find that I’m actually kinda proud of most of them. I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me in that department, but I don’t think I need to be as intimidated as I’ve felt.

Where do you think you most improved?

Definitely in my sketches. Once I had a basic comfort with anatomy, it really was freeing. They’re messy at best, but not having to look up what an arm looks like from a certain angle every time made it way more of a relaxed environment. 90% of my art this year is in quick sketches, and I find that I actually am okay with them even after the first time or two. The repetition has really given me a lot more confidence and I’m way faster. Now I just gotta work on getting PAST the sketch part lol.

What are you most proud of?

Probably my Whumptober trap door animatic. It took me absolutely forever and it’s not consistent in style at all, but it spanned several minutes, included only one character that I’d drawn before, had some pretty dynamic scenes, and there was even a bit of background work! It’s certainly some of my cleanest lineart I’ve made and, considering how vivid the scene was in my head, it’s not actually crazy different. It proved to myself I could pull it off and gives me a lot of hope for my other animatic aspirations.

Speaking of which, 2022 Goals!!

As you know if you happened to have looked through my writing reflection, this is going to be a pretty heavy year in school so I’m trying to keep actual commitments low. That being said I have lots of things I want to try out more this year stylistically:

-Brushes: There’s so many and I’ve got no idea how or when or why to use them, but I want to try!

-Shading and Lighting: I left a lot of things uncolored because I was scared the shading would ruin them, but I’m not going to improve if I don’t let myself fail a bit first.

-More Dynamic Scenes and Positions: Same as above. They’re terrifying, but I want to be able to do them better

-Experiment With 3D Sets!!!: This last month I’ve discovered that in the same way I can use 3D models, I can use 3D sets as well! I’m once again at the very bottom of the learning curve, but I’m so excited for the potential this could bring to the ambitiousness of my scenes.

-Post More: I’m honestly kind of terrified of posting art for some reason, but I have tons to share. I don’t know if it’s cause tumblr is more intimidating, or cause art is stolen more often than fics, or cause it’s way easier for a small mistake to ruin an overall art piece, or cause it feels less common to be a mostly h/c artist than to be an h/c author. There’s tons of worries and insecurities that probably play into it, but I think it would be nice to feel more comfortable because those of you who do interact with my stuff are really nice and deserve the extra Player content.

Overall, how’d the year go?

Pretty good! I really explored a ton of stuff with my tablet and I’m just beginning to feel like I’m moving out of the experimentation stage and into the doing stage (for some things haha). There’s still so much to learn, but I’m getting to the point where I enjoy my art more often than not and in my opinion, appreciating your work where you’re at, despite the flaws, is a huge step towards becoming a better and more confident artist.

#sakarrie's art #carmen sandiego #supernatural #Voltron: Legendary Defender #cs player #cs carmen #vld pidge #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #vld shiro #vld Matt #owlet (gulfish)#tw blood #end of year #art summery 2021

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nicknellie · 3 years

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@sunnysbright requested: something flarrie pls, maybe like a cute date or something, also pls include 🍓

Anonymous requested: flarrie first date pls!!!!

Seeing as both of these requests were for a flarrie date I decided to combine them into one prompt. I included strawberries, but I’m not gonna lie, I’m no expert on how strawberries grow and stuff like that so you might have to suspend your disbelief lmao. Anyway, these prompts were really cute and I love writing for flarrie, so this was a lot of fun. Thank you so much for your requests!

Like Summer

As far as first dates went, Flynn thought she had outdone herself. She had picked the right day, with the sun streaking through the canopy to bathe her and Carrie in its warm summer light, the slightest breeze and the shelter from the trees keeping them just cool enough. The activity couldn’t have been better either – it was Flynn’s opinion that Carrie needed to get out more, so she had packed them each a rucksack and brought Carrie hiking through the forest.

Though judging by all the grumbling, Carrie wasn’t quite enjoying it as much as Flynn.

“You could have at least told me we’d be doing this,” she groused, not fifteen minutes in. “That way I might have been prepared.”

A dozen or so paces ahead of Carrie, Flynn grinned to herself. She had purposely been secretive about what she had planned for their date, fully aware that if Carrie knew she’d be walking through a forest for three hours she would be less than excited. But still, Flynn knew their destination would lift Carrie’s spirits and that all the complaining she was about to receive would be completely worth it.

“If I had told you what we were doing you wouldn’t have come,” Flynn called over her shoulder.

“You know me so well,” Carrie deadpanned. “I’m not even wearing proper shoes for this.”

Flynn briefly turned back to glimpse Carrie’s dainty slip-ons already caked in mud. The rest of Carrie was looking a little worse for wear too; she had pulled her hair into a ponytail that was starting to look like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards, the sleeves of her cardigan were rolled up to the elbow, and the hem of her dress was grass stained. Flynn couldn’t help but feel a little bad, but equally she was probably one of the few people to ever see Carrie Wilson looking less than perfect, so in a way her state of utter disarray was endearing.

“You’re not wearing proper anything for this,” Flynn corrected. “But you let me choose what we were doing. You should have been prepared for anything.”

Carrie rolled her eyes and stormed ahead of Flynn, nose in the air, clearly displeased. Flynn was sure that Carrie wasn’t as moody as she was making it out to be. This had always been their dynamic – quick wit, insults, and snide remarks hiding that little flame of affection that had gradually blossomed into a roaring fire. Now that they were finally on an official date, they still kept that sense of rivalry, but it was diluted by the fact that they had finally admitted to one another how they felt. So Flynn wasn’t worried about Carrie’s mood, and even if she was really grumpy Flynn knew she would be able to cheer her up one way or another.

Plus her bad mood might have been more intimidating if she hadn’t fallen into a bush fifteen seconds later. Flynn was laughing so hard as she tried to tug her out that she dropped her back in several times.

Not long later (although with Carrie’s complaints it felt much longer) they came to a break in the treeline that exposed a hill, the grass coloured a summery bright green. Over the hill Flynn saw the sky for the first time since they’d entered the forest – pure blue, no trace of any clouds, the sun high in the sky. It was inviting and warm and she couldn’t help but feel happy. She glanced at Carrie and felt her breath hitch in her throat.

The thing was, Carrie shouldn’t have looked so good at that moment. She was covered in mud, her hair was a mess, there were ladders in her tights and an enormous rip in the shoulder of her cardigan, and she had been scowling so much on their hike that there were lines on her face Flynn was sure hadn’t been there before. But the sun gleaming down on her lit her hair like a halo and made her skin glow, and for the first time in hours she really let herself smile, an unhidden release of joy that reassured Flynn that she really was enjoying herself. She looked like a painting, so gorgeous that she couldn’t possibly have been real. She blew her hair away from her face and then flipped it over her shoulder, seeming like she moved in slow motion.

“Flynn!”

Flynn was snapped out of her thoughts by Carrie’s voice. Judging by her face, she had called Flynn’s name more than once. Flynn smiled pleasantly, trying to act as if she hadn’t just been worshipping Carrie like a goddess.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“What’s up? That hill.” Carrie pointed up the slope.

“Oh, that. Didn’t see that there.”

“Are you seriously going to make me climb that?” Carrie said, glaring daggers at Flynn.

Flynn wasn’t fazed. She slipped her hand into Carrie’s, delighted with the blush it elicited from her and the tiny quirk of her lips as she suppressed a smile. Flynn knew better than anyone that Carrie was all talk – she could pretend to be as angry as she wanted, but it was easy to tear down those walls with something as simple as holding her hand.

“Yes,” Flynn said brightly as Carrie regained her composure. “It’s not that steep and you can literally see the top from here. Plus, when we get up there I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Carrie pouted. “My legs ache. This better be somewhere we can sit down.”

“I could carry you up the hill if you’d like,” Flynn half-joked, winking at Carrie. Again, Carrie flushed pink, easily ruffled.

“I can walk myself, thank you very much,” she said, and set off up the hill ahead of Flynn.

It was, truthfully, a very small hill, so it took them barely two minutes to reach the top. It was hotter at the top of the hill, free of the shade the forest had provided, but Flynn wasn’t bothered with the heat – she was looking at Carrie to make certain that this had all been worth it.

Thankfully, Carrie was smiling. No, she was positively beaming, a glimmer in her eye that made her look happier than Flynn thought she had ever seen.

“You like the view?” Flynn asked. Carrie nodded mutely, wonder plain as day on her face. Flynn inwardly breathed a sigh of relief – she had been sure Carrie would like it up here, but to have it go down well in reality was a whole different feeling.

She tore her eyes away from Carrie and looked out across the scenery for herself. Right in front of them was a large field, uncut grass swaying in the gentle breeze, the whole area lined with row upon row of strawberry plants, ripe and ready to eat. Spanning out below them was a splendid view of the ocean, the sea glittering with dashed sunlight, boats framed by gold as they floated on the horizon. It was a sight Flynn had seen many a time before when she had walked this same route with her family and after she had discovered Carrie’s love of strawberries she had known she had to share it with her.

“The walk was worth it?” she checked, sliding her hand back into Carrie’s.

“The walk was worth it,” she confirmed, gripping Flynn’s hand tight as she raised it to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. Flynn felt her heart flutter, getting a little hot, and not because of the sun. “I did know you had something amazing planned – you know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” Flynn replied, leading Carrie to the hedgerows. “I knew that your whining all the way up here wasn’t you not enjoying yourself, it was just your personality.”

“The same way I knew how you being so stubborn and refusing to tell me what we were doing wasn’t you being a complete control freak, it was just you trying to surprise me,” Carrie quipped.

Flynn grinned, ready to rise to her challenge, but as soon as she opened her mouth Carrie silenced her by sticking a strawberry in there. Surprised, Flynn had no choice but to bite into it – luckily, Carrie had picked a ripe one, and the flavour danced over her tongue, tasting like summer.

“These are safe to eat, right?” Carrie asked, picking up another strawberry and inspecting it closely.

Flynn raised an eyebrow. “You’re only saying that after you put one in my mouth? Should I be worried?”

“Yes,” Carrie said. Flynn rolled her eyes fondly. “But they are safe to eat, aren’t they?”

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if you couldn’t eat as many strawberries as your heart desires,” Flynn said wistfully. Carrie beamed again, that smile as bright as the sun, and popped the strawberry into her mouth. She sighed contentedly, all of her earlier gripes seeming to be completely forgotten.

“Good?” Flynn said.

“So good,” Carrie replied.

Flynn lost track of how long they stayed there together, feasting on strawberries, feeding them to one another, basking in the sun, laughing and joking and talking, doing nothing more than simply enjoying each other’s company. As far as first dates went, Flynn was pretty certain this one couldn’t have gone any better. It felt like they had been on a thousand dates just like this before: comfortable, familiar, utterly perfect. With the sun on her skin and Carrie’s hand in hers, Flynn couldn’t imagine anywhere she would rather be.

They shared a few tentative, slightly nervous kisses. They tasted of the strawberries they had been eating. Flynn had never kissed anyone before, but she was certain that there was only one person she ever wanted to kiss from then on, and it was Carrie Wilson. The feeling of Carrie’s lips on hers sent shivers down her spine despite the hot weather. It was thrilling and calming at the same time, a sensation like no other, but Flynn was drunk on it.

As the afternoon wore on, the sun drifted slowly across the sky, and Flynn realised they needed to start heading back before it got too dark.

“I wish I could bring some of these strawberries back,” Carrie thought aloud.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Flynn announced. She had known Carrie would say that, and she was prepared for it. She dug around in her backpack for a while and eventually pulled out another bag, this one empty. She handed it to a bemused Carrie, smiling proudly at her own predictive skills. “So you can collect some and take them with you. I knew you’d want to.”

There was a small, soft smile on Carrie’s face, something in it that Flynn couldn’t quite name. She watched as Carrie practically bounced back to the hedges, giddy in a way that Flynn had hardly ever seen her before, and followed after her to give her a hand.

When the bag was nearly full, Carrie zipped it up and shouldered it, reaching for Flynn’s hand and leading the two of them back down the hill towards the forest, back the way they had come.

“I can carry the bag if you like,” Flynn offered, trying to be a good date.

“I’ve got it,” Carrie insisted.

“I thought you’d be eating them as we walked back,” Flynn said.

Carrie just smiled. “These aren’t for me. They’re for you.”

“Me?”

Carrie nodded briskly. “I’m going to make you a pie.”

Flynn almost laughed. “What for?”

“As a thank-you,” Carrie said like it should have been obvious. “You organised this entire amazing day and all I did was tag along. So, to show how much I care about you and how great today was, I’m making you a pie.”

“I– thank you.” Flynn tried to keep the tremor from her voice, trying not to show how touched she was. She liked this aspect of what they had – they were always equal, it was never one of them putting in more effort than the other. It showed how much they cared, how much they respected each other. It made Flynn feel loved.

But it was too early for love, she knew that. It was only their first date after all.

Carrie rolled her eyes again, but there was a blush on her cheeks. She squeezed Flynn’s hand affectionately and they walked the rest of the way back through the forest in comfortable silence.

The next day, Flynn’s legs were killing her. She texted Carrie as soon as she woke up, but other than that she allowed herself to sleep in until late, resting her aching joints. She just laid in bed and spoke to Carrie, remembering how perfect the day before had been and becoming ever more eager to go on another date.

She had almost forgotten Carrie’s promise until the text came: I’m outside your house by the way.

Flynn leapt out of bed and peaked out of her bedroom window. Sure enough, Carrie was stepping out of her dad’s car and walking up Flynn’s driveway. In her hands she held a large dish, mostly covered by tinfoil.

Ignoring the fact that she was still wearing her pyjamas even though it was nearing one o’clock, Flynn ran as fast as her tired legs would carry her from her bedroom to the front door. She opened it before Carrie even had time to knock.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. Carrie looked a lot less haggard than she had on their walk yesterday, beautiful even without the gleam of the sun on her face. The smell of the pie gently wafted out from underneath its covering.

“Hey,” Carrie replied, smiling sheepishly. She held the dish out and Flynn took it carefully. “I told you I’d make you a pie.”

Gently, Flynn pulled back the tinfoil and saw perfect pastry filled with bright red strawberries, covered with careful latticing and lots of tiny pastry hearts. Carrie was blushing the same shade as the strawberries and Flynn didn’t remember ever feeling so touched.

“It looks great,” she said, smiling up at her girlfriend. “Do you want to come in for a bit and have some?”

“I’d love to,” Carrie returned.

Flynn led her to the kitchen, cut them both a slice of pie each, and completed it with whipped cream. They sat at the table together, quietly eating their pie, the strawberries just as sweet as they had been the day before, the mood just as bright and comfortable. Flynn thought that if being with Carrie was so easy, there would definitely be a lot more dates and a lot more shared strawberry pies in the future. And she was more than alright with that.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh

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oh-look-isa-weeb · 4 years

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Fly Me to the Moon

Yuri Plisetsky

Celestial beings + royalty AU. You're the Night. He's the Moon. You're stuck together, whether you like it or not.

Notes: A longer post this time! I could have gone with a normal royalty AU but nooo, of course I didn't. I hope this turned out okay! Title is from a Frank Sinatra song of the same name.

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The Day is the bringer of the Sun; It surrounds it, and it holds the Sun up, just as the Sun brings the Day with it wherever it goes. They move and work together.

The Night is the guardian of the Moon; it is the contrast which allows the Moon to shine brighter, stretching endlessly behind the Moon, the herald to its beauty and grace.

You are the Heir of the Night, training tirelessly to prepare to take on the mantle of the Moon's Guardian, and you are tired.

No, seriously. If you have to hear about the union of the Sun and the Moon one more time, you're going to scream. You mutter exactly that to yourself, under your breath, as you walk through the training facility to your studio. To your surprise, someone replies.

"I know, right? It's gross. If I ever fall in love, hit me."

Who in the world…?

You spin around, coming face-to-face with sea green eyes and golden hair. The same eyes hair you would one day be sworn to protect. Before you stood Yuri Plisetsky, the Heir of the Moon. He didn't know who you were, but you certainly recognised him. After all, you'd been watching his progress since you were selected to become the Heir of the Night. Your life's work would be dedicated to his being.

Only after a split-second did he seem to realise that he had talked to another being, and that he was decidedly not alone. He spun around, glaring.

"Who are you? The hell are you doing here?"

I'm the only one allowed around here, you thought amusedly. You're the trespasser. You wondered if you could tell him that. Heck, what was stopping you? It would be nice to see the look on his face.

"As a matter of fact, I'm the Heir of the Night. Also known as the person who'll be working with you closely for the entirety of your reign." You pause and shoot him a pointed look. "And the only person allowed in here, Mr. Trespassing Heir of the Moon."

Ah, the sweet satisfaction of watching someone's brain shut down. He sputters for a bit and turns ever-so-slightly pink, scrambling to come up with an excuse.

"If we're gonna work together, w- what's wrong with me being here anyway? I- It's not like I'm not some random civilian!"

He pauses, and an oddly aged look crosses his features.

"I just- I needed somewhere to get away for a minute, okay? I would very much like to be able to breathe without those two advertising their relationship. And I don't want to go for class," He sighs. "I'll just go now."

Something about the way he says it resonates with you. Maybe it's the resigned tone in his voice, or the weary look on his face. And you understand, you really do. After all, you've been preparing to take up an equally important -- and equally heavy role. Sometimes you wanted an escape, too.

"Do you… Want to stay? And watch for a bit?"

He pauses and turns to look at you. He's trying to act nonchalant, shrugging casually with a "Sure,", but you see the way his shoulders sag a little, as if the tension was released, and his features smoothen out just a fraction. You tell him to make himself comfortable along the sides somewhere and begin running through your combat drills.

As it turns out, Yuri is a pretty courteous audience. He doesn't ask too many questions, and only does when you stop for breaks. At the end of your training session, you sit together, backs to the wall, and bask in companionable silence, taking a breather from the stress that your roles bring you. Finally, you prepare to leave the studio, locking up and exchanging farewells.

"Hey, uh, thanks for letting me stay. I think I needed that. I'll, uh, see you around. I hope."

"Well, we'll meet again eventually. Moon and Night and all that. Feel free to come back anytime, though."

He heads off in the other direction, waving as he walks away.

You don't see him for a good month.

You don't know why. Did he get in trouble? Did he not want to return? Was he doing alright?

You'd just about given up seeing him until coronation day ever again, until one day you open the door to the studio to find it already unlocked. You open the door anyway, paying it no mind, and promptly walk face first into something. Someone.

Yuri.

He grumbles about getting crashed into, mumbling a "Watch where you're going, moron" under his breath quietly, but he steps aside to let you in anyway. How did he get in? No, nevermind that, Lilia was coming in today. He shouldn't be here.

"My advisor's coming today. You should get out before you get caught."

He stares at you like you've grown a second head.

"Moron, did no one tell you? I bargained with Yakov. You're gonna teach me to fight, and I'll, well, they'll find something for me to teach you. Anyway, I'm meant to be here, stupid."

You gape at him as Lilia strides past you two and into the studio, thoroughly unimpressed at your expression. She tells you to "close your mouth, you are an Heir, not a fish", and she "certainly did not teach you to dawdle in doorways". You put your stuff down, but you have no clue where to begin. Teach someone?

Lilia sighs. "The basics, girl, unless you want him to spend more time on his butt than his feet."

Right, you feel like an idiot now. Please let there be a hole to swallow you up. You gesture for Yuri to join you in the centre of the room, and slowly run him through warm-ups.

Over time, you fall into a routine. Some weeks, you teach Yuri to fight, and other weeks, he teaches you dance. Not just waltz, you know how to do that, but other forms of dance. Ballet. Tango. Flamenco. The macarena, because why not, although that was mostly a joke. You meet Yakov, his advisor, as well and the current Sun and Moon, Yuuri and Victor. Most importantly, you meet his cat, and his grandfather. Victor says it's wonderful that Yuri's friends with you. Yuri says he's too nosy.

As the time passes, you find yourself enjoying his company more and more. You realise that he's actually a kind person, even if he doesn't outwardly show it. And one day, you catch yourself thinking, he's really pretty.

When did you fall for him? You don't know. But as soon as you realise, you never stop realising. You're hyper-aware of everything he does. It frustrates you to no end. You're in the middle of a foxtrot with Yuri, and you can feel yourself flushing wildly. He frowns at you and stops.

"What's up with you? Why've you been so jumpy these days?" He presses a hand to your forehead. "Tch. You're not sick, are you?" You shake your head, but you can't quite meet his eyes.

Because the heat from your cheeks seems to have somehow fried your brain cells, you decide to throw all caution to the wind. You might also be too sleep-deprived to regret this.

"I- I LIKE YOU!" You blurt, before your common sense finally catches up to you and you clap a hand to your mouth. "Ah, sorry, you uh, heard nothing… Ahah…"

He gapes at you, and then he averts his eyes. Great, he totally thinks you're a weirdo. You've just messed up your relationship with the guy you're stuck working with for your entire career.

"I like you too, moron." It's so quiet you could swear you imagined it, but Yuri stands across from you, eyes on the ground, face as flushed as yours. It's your turn to gape at him, as he bites out a "What? Quit staring at me!", although you can tell there's no real heat to his words.

"I'm glad," you hum, smiling gently as you extend a hand to him, a silent invitation to resume dancing. You let the music wash over you, losing yourself in the steps, and every time your eyes meet, there's a soft smile on his face.

Epilogue

You take your place on the dais next to Yuri, preparing to face the court for your coronation. You'd been there for him before this, through demanding days and insecurities. You'd seen him at his worst, in the days just after Victor announced he was stepping down as the Moon, helping him to fight off his self-doubt. You'd been there for Yuri, and as the new Night and Moon, you'll continue being by his side. As his guardian, but also as his betrothed.

Over the next week, there are ceremonies and festivities, including your wedding, which takes place on the last day. It's a whirlwind of crowds, carnivals, and dancing. You and Yuri have your first dance, the same foxtrot you had been dancing when you got together all those years ago, the same soft smile ever-present on his face, as if it's just you two in the ballroom, like it was back then.

Then the music changes to something more bold, and you charge at each other in a mock-battle, your movements dynamic and explosive, yet graceful, a testament to your proficiency in both combat and dance.

As the night progresses, your friends and family join you on the dance floor, laughing and mingling. There's not much actual dancing happening, but that's perfectly fine, because you're surrounded by loved ones. Someone starts a line dance at some point, and you get everyone who joins to do the macarena, just for laughs. You see Lilia rolling her eyes, but you laugh and pull her into the crowd to join you.

And at the end of the night, you're in the comfort of your room, Yuri by your side. He pulls you in for a sweet, languid kiss. This is the love of your life, the man you'll wake up next to every day for the rest of your life.

After all, the Night is the guardian of the Moon; it is by its side, always. It is the Moon's refuge, its home. It loves the Moon dearly, and the Moon loves it back.

#yuri on ice imagine #yuri on ice #yuri plisetsky #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuri!!! on ice

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foreverdavidbyrne · 4 years

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David Byrne’s interview in NME magazine

In 1979, David Byrne predicted Netflix. “It’ll be as easy to hook your computer up to a central television bank as it is to get the week’s groceries,” he told NME’s Max Bell, sitting in a Paris hotel considering the implications of Talking Heads’ dystopian single ‘Life During Wartime’.

He predicted the Apple Watch in that interview too: “[People will] be surrounded by computers the size of wrist watches.” And he foresaw surveillance culture and data harvesting: “Government surveillance becomes inevitable because there’s this dilemma when you have an increase in information storage. A lot of it is for your convenience, but as more information gets on file, it’s bound to be misused.”

In fact, over 40 years ago, he predicted the entire modern-day experience, as if he instinctively knew what was coming. “We’ll be cushioned by amazing technological development,” he said, “but sitting on Salvation Army furniture.”

The 68-year-old Byrne says today, “You can’t say that you know,” chuckling down a Zoom link from his home in New York and belying his reputation for awkwardness by seeming giddily relieved to be talking to someone. “It’s crazy to set yourself up as some sort of prophet. But there’s plenty of people who have done well with books where they claim to predict what’s going on. I suppose sometimes it’s possible to let yourself imagine, ‘Okay – what if?’ This can evolve into something that exists, can evolve into something more substantial, cheaper – these kinds of things.”

It’s been a lifelong gift. Byrne turned up at CBGBs in 1975 with his art school band Talking Heads touting ‘Psycho Killer’, as if predicting the punk scene’s angular melodic evolution, new wave, before punk was even called punk. In 1980, Talking Heads assimilated African beats and textures into their seminal ‘Remain In Light’ album, foreshadowing ‘world music’ and modern music’s globalist melting pot, then used it to warn America of the dangers of consumerism, selfishness and the collapse of civilisation. Pioneering or propheteering, Byrne has been on the front-line of musical evolution for 45 years, collaborating with fellow visionaries from Brian Eno to St Vincent’s Annie Clark, constantly imagining, ‘What if?’

The live music lockdown has been a frustrating freeze frame, but Byrne was already leading the way into music’s new normal. Launched in 2018, the tour to support his 10th solo album, ‘American Utopia’, has now turned into a cinematic marvel courtesy of Spike Lee – the concert film was released in the UK this week. The original tour was acclaimed as a live music revolution. Using remote technology, Byrne was able to remove all of the traditional equipment clutter from the stage and allow his musicians and dancers, in uniform grey suits and barefoot, to roam around a stage lined with curtains of metal chains with their instruments strapped to them. A Marshally distanced gig, if you will.

“As the show was conceptually coming together, I realised that once we had a completely empty stage the rulebook has now been thrown out,” Byrne says. “Now we can go anywhere and do anything. This is completely liberating. It means that people like drummers, for example, who are usually relegated to the back shadows, can now come to the front – all those kinds of things – which changes the whole dynamic.”

With six performers making up an entire drum kit and Byrne meandering through the choreography trying to navigate a nonsensical world, the show was his most striking and original since he jerked and jived around a constructed-mid-gig band set-up in Jonathan Demme’s legendary 1984 Talking Heads live film Stop Making Sense.

The American Utopia show embarked on a Broadway run last year, where Byrne super-fan Spike Lee saw it twice and leapt at the chance of turning the spectacle into Byrne’s second revolutionary live film, dotted with his musings on the human condition to illuminate the crux of the songs: institutional racism, our lack of modern connection, the erosion of democracy and, on opener ‘Here’, a lecture-like tour of the human brain, Byrne holding aloft a scale model, trying to fathom, ‘How do I work this?’

“I didn’t know how much of a fan Spike was!” Byrne laughs today. “He’d even go, ‘Why don’t you do this song? Why don’t you add this song in’. We knew one another casually so I could text him and say, ‘I want you to come and see our show; I think that you might be interested in making a film of it’.”

Are the days of the traditional stage set-up numbered? “Yes, I think so,” he replies. “At least in theatres and concert halls the size that I would normally play, yes. The fact that we can get the music digitally [means] a performance has to be really of value. It has to be really something special, because that’s where the performers are getting their money and that’s what the audience is paying for. They’re not paying very much for streaming music, but they are paying quite a bit to go and see a performance, so the performance has to give them value for money… It has to be really something to see.”

How does David Byrne envisage the future possibilities of live performance?

“I’ve seen a lot of things that hip-hop artists have done – like the Kanye West show where he emerges on a platform that floats above the stage,” he says. “I’d seen one with Kendrick Lamar where it was pretty much just him on stage, an empty stage with just him on stage and a DJ, somebody with a laptop – that was it. I thought, ‘Wow’. Then he started doing things with huge projections behind. There are lots of ways to do this. I love the idea of working with a band, with live musicians. ‘How can I innovate in this kind of way?’ It’s maybe easier for a hip-hop musician who doesn’t have a band to figure out. The pressure is on to come up with new ways of doing this.”

In liberating his musicians from fixed, immovable positions, American Utopia also acts as a metaphor for freeing our minds from our own ingrained ways of thinking. As Byrne intersperses Talking Heads classics such as ‘Once In A Lifetime’, ‘I Zimbra’ and ‘Road To Nowhere’ with choice solo cuts and tracks from ‘American Utopia’, he also dots the show with musings on an array of post-millennial questions: the health of democracy; the rise of xenophobia and fascism; our increasing reliance on materialism and online communication; the climate change threat; the existential nightmare of the dating app; and, crucially, the distances all of these things put between us.

“The ‘likes’ and friends and connections and everything that the internet enables,” he argues, “even Zoom calls like this, they’re no substitute for really being with other people. Calling social networks ‘social’ is a bit of an exaggeration.”

Byrne closes the show with the suggestion that, rather than isolate behind our LCD barriers, we should try to reconnect with each other. In an age when social media has descended into all-out thought war and anyone can find concocted ‘facts’ to support anything they want to believe, is that realistic?

“I have a little bit of hope,” he says. “Not every day, but some days. I have hope that people will abandon a lot of social media, that they’ll realise how intentionally addictive it is, and they’re actually being used, and that they might enjoy actually being with other people rather than just constantly scrolling through their phone. So, I’m a little bit optimistic that people will, in some ways, use this technology a little bit less than they have.”

A key moment in American Utopia comes with Byrne’s cover of Janelle Monae’s ‘Hell You Talmbout’, a confrontational track shouting the names of African-Americans who have been killed by police or in racially motivated attacks – Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin, George Floyd and far, far too many more. Does Byrne think the civil unrest in the wake of Floyd’s death and the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement make a serious impact?

“We’ll see how long this continues,” he says, “but in projects that I’m working on – there’s a theatre project I’m working on in Denver, there’s the idea of bringing this show back to Broadway, there’s other projects – those issues came to the fore. Issues of diversity and inclusion and things like that, which were always there. Now they’re being taken more seriously. The producers and theatre owners realise that they can’t push those things aside, that they have to be included in the whole structure of how a show gets put together.”

“At least for now, that seems to be a big change. I see it in TV shows and other areas too. There’s a lot of tokenism, but there’s a lot of real opportunity and changed thinking as well.”

Elsewhere, he encourages his audience to register to vote, and had registration booths at the shows. He must have been pleased about the record turnout in the recent US election? “Yeah, the turnout was great. Now you just got to keep doing that. Gotta keep doing it at all the local elections, too. It was important for me not to endorse a political party or anything in the show but to say, ‘Listen, we can’t have a democracy if you don’t vote. You have to get out there and let your voice be heard and there’s lots of people trying to block it.’ We have to at least try.”

Will Trump’s loss help bring people together after four years with such a divisive influence in charge?

“Yes. I think for me Trump was not so much a shock; we knew who he is. He was around New York before that, in the reality show [The Apprentice], we knew what kind of character he was. What shocked me was how quickly the Republican party all fell into line behind him, behind this guy who’s obviously a racist, misogynist liar and everything else. But it’s kind of encouraging – although it’s taken four years and with some it’s only with the prospect of him being gone – that quite a few have been breaking ranks. There are some possibilities of bridge building being held out.”

But, he says, “It’s too early to celebrate,” concerned that Senate Majority Leader and fairweather Trump loyalist Mitch McConnell will use any Republican control of the Senate to block many of Biden’s policies from coming into effect. “[This] is what happened with Obama… I want to see real change happen. [Climate change] absolutely needs to be a priority. The clock had turned back over the last four years, so there’s a lot to be done. Whether there’s the willpower to do everything that needs to be done, it remains to be seen, but at least now it’s pointing in the right direction.”

How will he look back on the last four years? Byrne ponders. “I’m hoping that I look back at it as a near-miss.”

American Utopia is as much a personal journey as a dissection of modern ills. Ahead of ‘Everybody’s Coming To My House’, Byrne admits to being a rather socially awkward type. He claims that a choir of Detroit teenagers, when singing the song for the accompanying video, had imbued the song with a far more welcoming message than his own rendition, which found him wracked with the fear that his visitors might never leave. How does someone like that deal with celebrity?

“In a certain way it’s a blessing,” Byrne grins, “because I don’t have to go up to people to talk to them – they sometimes come up to me. In other ways it’s a little bit awkward. Celebrity itself seems very superficial and I have to constantly remind myself that your character, your behaviour and the work that you do is what’s important – not how well known you are, not this thing of celebrity. I learned early on it’s pretty easy to get carried away. But it does have its advantages. I had Spike Lee’s phone number, so I could text him.”

Talking Heads drummer Chris Frantz’s recent book Remain In Love suggests that the more successful Byrne got early on, the more distant he became.

Byrne nods. “I haven’t read the book, but I know that as we became more successful I definitely used some of that to be able to work on other projects. I worked on a dance score with [American choreographer] Twyla Tharp and I worked on a theatre piece with [director] Robert Wilson – other kinds of things – [and] I started working on directing some of the band’s music videos. So I guess I spent less time just hanging out. As often happens with bands, you start off being all best friends and doing everything together and after a while that gets to be a bit much. Everybody develops their own friends and it’s like, ‘I have my own friends too’. Everybody starts to have their own lives.”

The future is far too enticing for David Byrne to consider revisiting the past. “I do live alone so sometimes it would get lonely”, he says of lockdown, but he’s been using his Covid downtime to cycle around undiscovered areas of New York and remain philosophical about the aftermath.

“We’ll see how long before the vaccine is in, before we return to being able to socialise,” he says, “but I’m also wondering, ‘How am I going to look at this year? Am I going to look at it as, “Oh yes, that’s the year that was to some extent taken away from our lives; our lives were put on pause?”’ We kept growing; we kept ageing; we keep eating, but it was almost like this barrier had been put up. It has been a period where, in a good way, it’s led us to question a lot of what we do. You get up in the morning and go, ‘Why am I doing this? What am I doing this for? What’s this about?’ Everything is questioned.”

Post-vaccine, he hopes to “travel a little bit” before looking into plans to bring the ‘American Utopia’ show back to Broadway, and possibly even to London if the financial aspects can be worked out. “Often when a show like that travels, the lead actors might travel,” Byrne explains, “but in this case it’s the entire cast that has to travel. So you’ve got a lot of hotel bills and all that kind of stuff. We wanted to do it. There might be a way, if we can figure that out.”

Once we all get our jab, will everyone come to recognise that, as Byrne sings on ‘American Utopia’s most inspiring track, ‘Every Day Is A Miracle’? “Optimistically, maybe,” he says. “There will be a lot of people who will just go, ‘Let’s get back to normal – get out to the bars, the clubs and discos’. That’s already been happening in New York; there’s been these underground parties where people just can’t help themselves. But after all this it’d be nice to think that people might reassess things a little bit.”

And with the algorithm as the new gatekeeper and technology beginning to subsume the sounds and consumption of music, what does the new wave Nostradamus foresee for rock in the coming decades? Will AIs soon be writing songs for other AIs to consume to inflate the numbers, cutting humanity out of the equation altogether?

“It seems like there’ll be a kind of factory,” Byrne predicts, “an AI factory of things like that, and of newspaper articles and all of this kind of stuff, and it will just exaggerate and duplicate human biases and weaknesses and stupidity. On the other hand, I was part of a panel a while back, and a guy told a story about how his listening habits were Afrofuturism and ambient music – those were his two favourite ways to go. The algorithm tried to find commonalities between the two so it could recommend things to him and he said it was hopeless. Everything it recommended was just horrible because it tried to find commonalities between these two very separate things. This just shows that we’re a little more eclectic than these machines would like to think.”

And in the distant future? Best prepare to welcome your new gloop overlords. Byrne isn’t concerned about The Singularity – the point at which machine intelligence supersedes ours and AI becomes God – but instead believes that future technologies will emulate microbial forms.

“I watched a documentary on slime moulds [a simple slimy organism] the other day,” he says, warming to his sticky theme. “Slime moulds are actually extremely intelligent for being a single-celled organism. They can build networks and bunches of them can communicate. They can learn, they have memories, they can do all these kinds of things that you wouldn’t expect a single-celled organism to be able to do.”

“I started thinking, ‘Well, is there a lesson there for AI and machine learning, of how all these emerging properties could be done with something as simple as a single cell?’ It’s all in there… when things interact, they become greater than the sum of their parts. I thought, okay, maybe the future of AI is not in imitating human brains, but imitating these other kinds of networks, these other kinds of intelligences. Forget about imitating human intelligence – there’s other kinds of intelligence out there, and that might be more fruitful. But I don’t know where that leads.”

His grin says he does know, that he has a vision of our icky soup-world future, but maybe the rest of the species isn’t yet advanced enough to handle it. But if we’re evolving towards disaster rather than utopia, we can trust David Byrne to give us plenty of warning.

December 18, 2020

#david byrne #talking heads #music #new wave #post-punk #art pop #avant funk #worldbeat #interview #nme magazine #2020

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couchpotatoaniki · 3 years

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The books that you posted about really intrigued me. And the books seemed really cool, I was wondering if you have any book recommendations? For any genre.

:0 Someone's asking me about book recs? This has never happened before I'm scared 😂😂 So, I suppose I should warn you that a lot of these are fantasy. Also, thank you for taking an interest 🥺🥺

This is gonna be loooooong, so continue to read more. Also, all the links are for the Goodreads pages so you could read the blurb and reviews if you're interested. Word of warning though, these are all of my opinions, so if they don't work for you--that's okay. Tastes are fickle :))

Also, if you have any book recommendations for me or want to talk about books, then please feel free to pop in my inbox because I LOVE discussing and getting excited about books.

Books that I've already read:

The School for Good and Evil series by Soman Chainani--there are six books in total (seven if you include the handbook), but this was one I read when I was around 13/14. It's kinda like a fairytale retelling, where there are two schools; one for good and the other evil. It has a lot of references to folktales and discusses the divides between good and evil, girls and boys, and young and old. It's a story about self-discovery and I just love the characters--especially their relationships and dynamics with one another. Netflix is actually making a movie about the first book and it's going to come out sometime in 2022. Hopefully they don't screw it up 😔😔

A Thousand Nights by E. K. Johnson--I know this may not be for everyone, but I love this book. There is a sequel that I haven't gotten around to reading, but this one specifically was one I enjoyed quite a bit. It's like a retelling of the folktale One Thousand and One Nights (commonly known as Arabian Nights) but with more a fantasy twist to it. It's slow-paced, but it has so much meaning behind it. It paints such a beautiful picture in your head with both the imagery but also has a subtle feminist strength to it through its deliberate choice of words and description--not to mention it has a very strong feel to the pre-Islamic Middle East setting as compared to other retellings like The Wrath and the Dawn, which is much more suited to be classed as YA than this (by no means is that derogatory to any of the books, but it's just to explain how they're so different despite being based off the same folktale). Just read it, it's honestly amazing.

The Sin Easter's Daughter series by Melinda Salisbury--Okay, funny story, I actually read the second book, The Sleeping Prince, first by accident. A problem I have with a lot series, is something commonly known as second-book syndrome--as in, I'm not particularly a fan of the second book in a trilogy series. Once I realised my mistake and read the first book, The Sin Eater's Daughter, I found that I wasn't as in love with it as I was the second, so I thought that might've been just because of the way I read it. But when I read the reviews, I realised that a lot of other people thought the same as me despite having read it in order; the second one was more loved than the first. Unfortunately, I haven't read the third book yet, but I feel like The Sleeping Prince was enough to put it on this list. Once again, this is fantasy with tones of the Pied Piper in it, and there is so much more I could say, but again it would be more about the second book than the first so I won't spoil it for ya. But just sayin', if you wanted to read the second book as a stand-alone, you can do since I myself kinda figured out what was going on and filled in the gaps by myself. This is probably because the first and second book follow different characters (and I assume it switches in the third book, but again, I haven't read it).

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller--now, this GODSEND of a book is one that I rate highly. It's based off the Iliad (so it's heavy on the Greek mythology), though it follows Patroclus rather than Achilles throughout the whole book. If you don't know anything about the story, then I won't spoil it--just know that I knew the story of the Iliad and was in this state of dread the entire time 'cAUSE THERE'S SO MUCH FORSHADOWING. All I can say is that I love the dynamic between the two guys and the story is so heartbreakingly beautiful. Bless 'em 😔😔 But a friend of mine found the writing a little bit confusing (she still loves it) since you kinda have to read between the lines--it isn't blunt. Also, one word of advise I'd like to give on good stories, and specifically plot twists, is that the shock factor may occur the first time you read it but what makes a good story or plot twist is the way it makes you feel--it should still be positive no matter how many times you re-read it. Shock factor isn't everything, so when I read this there was no shock factor for me (I knew what was going to happen from me previous knowledge) yet this book still kept me gripped onto it. I didn't loose interest--and that's part of the reason why I love it.

Caraval series by Stephanie Garber--I put this on the list because of the progression within the books, despite it being fast-paced. Book one follows one of the two sisters during the Caraval who is accompanied by a guy and the whole description was very magical--kinda alluding to the magic of Legend himself (the Caraval Master). In it, there is mentions of what kind of world it is, but it doesn’t really get explained until book two, which follows the other sister to find out Legend’s real identity for a certain reason that I won’t disclose ‘cause it’s a spoiler. This expands a lot more about how the present came to be as it was and also explains a little more about the background for the major characters. Although I’m in the early chapters of the third book and so can’t really comment on it, all I can say is that so far, it brings the two stories more together than they were before as it switches viewpoints between the sisters; I feel like that’s also why I don’t hate the second book in this trilogy, because the first one seems more like a prequel to set the scene while the second feels like the beginning of the actual story, and the third would be it’s conclusion. Okay, so, fair warning, there is a lot of metaphors which mix senses (for example, describing an action/emotion as a colour/image/taste) and I understand not everyone likes that writing style, which is completely okay; I just happen to like it.

Daughter of the Pirate King series by Tricia Levenseller--the main girl, I feel, is either a love-or-hate character. Personally, I don't particularly mind her, since she's just fun to read. There are parts where she tells you just how awesome she is but can't show you because she would give her act away (she's pretending to be a prisoner on a ship to steel a map) but if it was in any other scenario, I would despise that. I suppose my plus points would be for how she reacts internally to what she's doing, you see the whole process going on in her mind--and it isn't perfect, mind you, but the fact nothing is perfect makes it better. Though I could see why people would think she was annoying or the romance was very fast-paced (I prefer a slow-burn, but I don't mind this either). One thing I will say is that there are two characters (one in particular) that I love the dynamics of. Also, there's pirates. I don't think I need to explain further on that point.

Books I'm in the middle of reading that seem pretty cool so far:

The Cruel Prince by Holly Black--I'm halfway through this book and so far I'm really enjoying it. The dynamic between the main girl and her nemesis is just unlike many enemies-to-lovers I've ever read (including online) because they just hate each other so much. Like, she's not gonna be seduced by him and get into a really toxic relationship where her feelings are being taken advantage of. She's grown into being smart, she's grown into being skilled, she's not a love-struck idiot that makes impulsive, nonsensical choices. There are two more books after this and apparently it gets better and the main characters find some ground to not be toxic (again, not sure since I haven't read it myself). Now, this is probably going to get me a lot of hate, but I'm not a fan of a certain popular YA author who has a very popular book series that involves fae. I find this a much more likeable alternative since the faerie are not humans with superpowers and pointy ears. There is actual description, actual difference between the humans and the fae, different rules they live by, two examples being that humans can't eat fae food otherwise [redacted] and the other being the fae are immortal (the kind that doesn't age, but can be killed). There's consistency in the world building and the characters are not too overpowered--and this itself just set above all the other faerie books I've read thus far.

Lost Boy by Christina Henry--this is a Peter Pan retelling that I'm still in the first half of the book. Not got much to say except for the characters are even at such a point are distinct with each other (I can already tell that Peter Pan is a Psychotic Asshole™). It's very impactful, but be warned, it's dark and violent too. I mean, when I say Peter Pan is a Psychotic Asshole™, I mean it with every fibre of my being. And it is a very good origin story to Captain Hook, who you begin to empathise with quite a bit even early on within the book. I also like a few other books from the same author since she delves quite a bit into dark fantasy and story-retellings which I personally adore, but I feel like this one is a good starting point. Either this, or The Girl in Red which is Red Riding Hood is bi and goes on a murder-spree.

The Archived by V. E. Schwab--I've actually got a couple of this author's books but I decided to put this one on because so far I'm enjoying it so far. The atmosphere of the story is very eerie and it gives beginning-of-a-horror-movie vibes. So far I haven't really gotten into the whole thing with the love interests, but there is some in there. I just really enjoyed the whole worldbuilding, the setting and feel of the story was awesome, the writing was really good, and I love the little anecdotes that are put in between Mac and Da (her grandfather). Though I can see why the switching from tenses would be confusing for some, I just really liked it. Again, not much to say because I haven't gotten too far into the story, but so far, it's pretty great.

Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan--oh boy. Now, this book is one I would recommend so far but it needs to be said that it is hard to read. Not because the writing was bad or the plot was crap--no, the writing is really good and the plot is very interesting. It's hard because of the themes that are being addressed within it. I'm not gonna sugar-coat it, it mentions a LOT of sexual harassment, kidnapping, lack-of consent. However, although there are a few books in which this is romanticised, this is definitely NOT one of them. In fact, you feel really bad for the main character and I even felt like taking a break to come to terms with what was being said or described, but this is a story where the main girl does what she can to fight against it. Usually, I skip past the author's notes at the beginning but lucky I read this one because it gave me an understanding of why this was written--the author had been through a similar situation and wanted to raise awareness for any girls currently going through anything remotely close to this situation. It was nice to see that this was something that was being spoken about and I'm so proud of the author for speaking up about her experiences and encouraging others to speak up as well.

Circe by Madeline Miller--if you've already read Song of Achilles and enjoyed it, this was written by the same author and follows a character called Circe. She is actually a side-character from The Odyssey by Homer, so--again--Greek mythology is heavily present in this. I actually haven't gotten around to reading it but I've been promised that this was amazing, and speaks about feminism and females themselves in a world as patriarchal and oppressive as Ancient Greece (let's be honest, they were extremely sexist)

It's Not About the Burqa by various authors, edited by Mariam Khan--this is the only non-fiction book I have on this list because I don't read non-fiction all that much. Reading books, for me, is escaping from reality so reading this genre is going against the main reason I read in the first place. However, that being said, the topic it discusses is very near and dear to my heart as it is part of my identity, who I am as a person. This book, folks, is about Muslim women. It's a compilation of essays written by said women which each tackle different topics regarding Muslim women, ranging from religious dress, representation, mental health, stereotyping, feminism within Islam, expectations, modesty, sexuality, marriage and divorce, and more. One line that instantly hit me was "When was the last time you heard a Muslim woman speak for herself without a filter?" And I realised it was true--that most of the crap I heard about my own people, my fellow Muslim women, are either from men or non-Muslims or (in many cases) both. Reading these really opened my eyes to how we were actually being treated; how our hijabs were being used as a fashion trend rather than a religious observance; how our communities disapprove of behaviours that deviate from what we're expected to be, and the press and state being oppressive and racist towards us. I knew about most of this stuff but it really put into words (quite literally) how severe it is and had made me realise how some of the things I believed were good (like increased representation of Muslims in advertisement for beauty and fashion) were actually only short-term things at face value (like how barely any of the models or designers are actual Muslims and how the hijab, abaya, and other religious clothing were supposed to show how in Islam a woman is not valued by her physical beauty but for her personality, her intelligence, her love for her religion). This in and of itself is a bit of a rant from my part, but I really want people to read this book and understand our voices and our views from our own mouth than through someone else's interpretation off of some half-assed search on the internet. I would seriously recommend people to read it because it is such an important issue to at least try to understand.

There's so many more book that I've heard a lot of praise from that I have but haven't read yet or don't have and am planning to get in the future when my wallet recovers from me recent spending because boy is it HURT. I'll be posting about them

#yes i have many tbr book #will that ever stop me from getting more?#hell no #honestly #reading book and buying them are two different hobbies #and i am too broke for one of them which truly breaks my heart #...oh well #i legit feel like an addict but for stories #maybe this is a cry for help #if it is i'm just gonna ignore it blissfully #wooyoungsbxtch asks #author aniki answers #Author-Aniki-reads

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foxymoxynoona · 3 years

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Hi hi, soo I can’t recall all you wrote but I did agree with a lot of them. I want to explain the first part of my previous ask. Later on, I’ll address my statements on trauma, Sasha and the points you made which were actually brilliant especially with the chemical imbalance. Her eating habits are definitely compounding her issues. Baby girl needs nutrients too lol. She honestly has too many stressors and she’s used to using sex as a crutch, which isn’t healthy.

Moving on, you write strong female characters who are dealing with some kind of trauma/injustice in most of your longer OC’s. Usually in the beginning they’re still going through the trauma and then in comes this guy who is basically Prince Charming and they need for some reason(Amended, Little Bean) or who they want to be Prince Charming but is a bit opposite from that (Meadow, lowlander, Sugar fairy). The catch though, no matter the character or how deeply infatuated they become with JK or etc, they always end up saving themselves in the end. So, in the beginning they may be lacking, and while you can easily make JK the guy that fixes them, leads them (because they’re fragile) or tells them all they need to hear and basically have no real conflict, you do the exact opposite.

In the end, when they’re happily ever aftering, you realise they’re actually choosing to be with him. They dont need him anymore, they just want him. Like a change in dynamic, where they become the princess charmings and Jk is now who longs for their affection. In many ways JK is more of a catalyst for your OCs to find themselves and heal. Except in lowlander where he was a part of the trauma and she left, but she chose to come back.

That’s what I meant by similar. There’s the back drop of trauma, then the meet cute, then catalyst or conflict to seek healing, then there’s the recovery. Then living happily ever after.

Apologies for any typos. Also, if I’m wrong then please let me know, these are just observations I made, soo I may be over analyzing. I didn’t finish Indigo soo I didn’t include it, but female Insert had past trauma and JK was a catalyst too I think plus conflict.

Either way, its beautiful writing and I’m definitely not complaining 🦊

🌚

OHHH yes! This is so flattering and yes, that is definitely a recurring theme I write often, a combination of a few different ideas:

- You are your own Prince Charming and don't need anyone else to save you because you can save yourself

- A woman does not need a man to save her

- A woman can exist as a man's equal in a relationship, doing just as much of the saving/leading/guiding/strength as he does

- It's not fair to expect someone else to save you because they are real people with their own needs and struggles too, not some superhero of your stoy

- Romance is not the end all-be all of any woman's story, even if finding a partner does play a part in their story of self actualization

- Love is choosing your partner over and over, not simply accepting what feels inevitable (even in circumstances where I'm writing soul mate/forced circumstances/etc. stories)

I do follow that plot pattern a lot, it's true, the meeting > conflict > healing > true recovery. I do think a lot of adult relationships is reconciling your past so you can move onto a future but when I noticed how repetitive that was on my stories for the past year, I've made a point of avoiding that for the next ones. Prince Jin, Demon Hunter JK, and Nurse Tae didn't have that traumatic background, and Lone Blue Egg is different. I actually write way more background-trauma-free stories but it seems the ones I have really gotten emotionally invested in enough to post in the last year are the ones where characters are recovering from difficult things, mirroring probably some of my own IRL struggles the last 5+ years.

And yes x 1000 that Sasha needs food. We'll learn so much more about her before the end of the book so things like that will have even more context.

#asks #mywriting #flux

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beyond-far-horizons · 4 years

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Katara’s potential in LOK and importance of older female role-models in life and fiction

This was not meant to turn into a meta and yet has done! Just a disclaimer I’m still working my way through The Legend of Korra but have mostly been spoiled by reading some great analysis on here. So this isn’t meant to be a comprehensive take and also isn’t meant to disrespect the people who like Legend of Korra or this particular aspect of it. It’s just a subject very close to my heart and my work as a creative practitioner, student of psychology and media analyst, so I really wanted to discuss it.

Contains some spoilers esp for Season 1.

So I’m biting the bullet and getting into LoK despite reservations. I overall really loved Avatar the Last Airbender and Katara is one of my favourite characters. I admit one of my biggest issues with starting LoK was hearing how her character and agency were drastically reduced compared to the original series.

Now I know LoK gets a lot of flak for a variety of reasons and it was always going to be hard following such a beloved series as A:TLA and trying to do something different. However I’m actually enjoying certain aspects including Korra herself, despite the fact she can be bratty and immature at times (which squares with her age and upbringing). I also find the premise of the Equalists and especially their mysterious, terrifying leader Amon really interesting and I just wish the creators had done more with that plot line. (I forever seem to be going on about missed potential in the stories I consume!)

However the more I continue the more I’m annoyed because I realised we were robbed of Badass Grandma!Katara and also more matrilineal mentoring/bonding between her and Korra.

Spoilers but I wanted to see Katara go toe to toe with the villains esp give her being intimately connected to their history. I wanted to see her deal with the shadows of the past, the history of trauma associated with bloodbending and the Fire Nation and also the very intriguing points Season 1 was trying to make about the role of bender vs non-bender and the Avatar themselves. All things Katara was deeply involved with as someone who experienced inequality firsthand, fought relentlessly to abolish it and was the previous Avatar’s finder, teacher and later his wife.

Katara being Aang’s first mentor and implied to be Korra’s waterbendering tutor adds yet another dimension and potential to explore. That whole relationship must be strange for everyone involved but I’m always a sucker for female bonds, found family and intergenerational friendships.

I know LoK is about the new cast taking over - Tenzin fills the role of Korra’s mentor figure onscreen and is loved by many. There are lots of ways to tell a story and the creators focused on Korra’s issues with airbending to contrast her personality and development with Aang’s, as well as to flesh out Aang’s family and the rebuilding of the Air Nomads.

Yet I miss the potential of seeing wise fierce mentor!Katara on screen. We fans love callbacks, so seeing Katara in action as she used to be would be a joy, and older more powerful characters need not overshadow younger ones. For example Uncle Iroh was beloved and integral in A:TLA despite the fact we saw very little of his backstory. He didn’t take over Zuko’s journey, he aided and complemented it. Plus Toph gets her chance to shine.

There was so much to play with, especially in Season 1 (and would have been a nice reference to Aang meeting Katara first and then Zuko and Toph later). So much contrast between Katara’s experience with Hama, her thoughts about her mother, Gran Gran and the reintroduction of South Water Style. The trauma of bad parental/mentor relationships vs the good examples one can use to alchemise negative patterns that A:TLA was known for (see Iroh, Zuko and Ozai for reference). I don’t want to get too far into spoiler territory but all of this links back to Katara, Hama and Water Tribe and I would have loved to see a further exploration of that and a contrast between her loving bond and fear for Korra vs the villains’ and their education. This would have created more depth between Korra and Amon and co (and wow do I wish that dynamic was explored further - does she even know what happens to him??), and between Katara and Korra and their respective journeys to shoulder their burdens and mature as people and women.

Just think about all those juicy, angsty callbacks we could have done to Hama’s haunting episode! How Katara could have decided to be a better mentor than Hama was to her. (Katara was always a good mentor but if there was any issues in her relationship with Korra re Aang etc this could have been a good place for dramatic tension and resolution.) Of course for all we know this did happen but we don’t see it because we don’t get to see Katara’s training with Korra or much of Katara at all in LoK apart from her failing to heal Korra.

Plus I adore badass ladies and badass grandmas, I have loads in my original fiction. I love people defying stereotypes and sadly there is still a lack of stories not only depicting a range of female role-models but female mentoring and matrilineal bonding.

Read the incredible bestseller Women Who Run with the Wolves by Jungian analyst Clarissa Pinkola Estés if you want to learn more about the power of storytelling, myth and female hero journeys and initiation. A key part of that book is how women have been historically and psychologically undervalued and harmed by the prevailing culture for centuries. Also how it has broken matrilineal lines of wisdom and support and distorted cultural values of how girls and women (not to mention boys and men) view the Feminine. This leaks down into our modern day stories via inherited psychological conditioning and unexamined tropes.

For example - how many ‘wise old men’ figures can you think of in pop culture, myth, fairytale, religion? Quite a few I’d imagine. Now contrast that with the ‘wise old woman’ archetype...I guessing not as many. I’m sure you’ll find a few but I bet more often the words that come to mind are ‘witch’, ‘sorceress’, ‘crone’ etc.

The Fairy Godmother (I gave you that one for free;) ) is an exception but she is a watered down version of the powerful, ambivalent figures of folklore such as Baba Yaga. Trust me if the Yaga was your mentor, as she was to Vasalisa in the fairytale Vasalisa the Wise/the Beautiful, you ain’t coming out of that encounter with a crystal slipper, you’re coming out it with a burning skull that incinerates your enemies and I’d like to see that tale popularised!

As mentioned Katara did feature in Korra’s life as a support, a vague mentor figure and a healer - in fact she is the one that initiates Korra’s heroine journey by supporting her decision to leave the stifling confines of her compound, go to Republic City alone and learn airbending. She also offers emotional and medical support during Korra’s traumatic recovery later on in the series. But mostly Katara’s involvement is at the peripheries of The Legend of Korra except when she was failing to heal her.

This isn’t to say that comfort and softness in female relationships are lesser than battle prowess or mental fortitude. Or that failure always bad, it is human and can be a powerful narrative tool for character development. I’m not interested in the infallible ‘Strong Female Character’ stereotype and neither is Estés. Her book illustrates that the Feminine encapsulates all of these qualities and many more and looking at the original Katara she was a perfect example of that. She was empathetic, intelligent, powerful, fierce, devoted, flawed, playful, angry.

I guess what I’m saying is that I miss that Katara and I miss the opportunity of seeing Korra interact with and learn from that Katara, especially as they have so much in common in terms of shared history, powers, culture and even looks. I’m also missing the opportunity of seeing that Katara battle Amon and all the drama and backstory that could have ensued from those encounters! After all Katara took on her mother’s killer, Hama and the Fire Nation (including one angsty honour-obsessed Fire Prince and his powerful sister), you’re telling me she would have just let Korra, her family and friends be in grave danger in the name of ‘leaving it to the kids’ ESPECIALLY since her own history turned out to be so deeply connected to all of this? Nah...

It’s important for girls* to see a range of wholesome female characters and dynamics play out in their media from an early age, especially to rework and combat the historic negative tropes that our culture is still steeped in. It’s also important to address the devaluing of the elderly, in particular elderly women. The Legend of Korra does in fact build on this from Avatar the Last Airbender by having an even greater range of capable women and girls across ages and morality spectrum. Korra herself (who I’m liking a lot more than I thought I would), is a real stereotype breaker. Toph I’ve heard fulfils the ‘wise old (crotchy) woman’ archetype later in the series. I just wish, given how much I adore A:TLA’s Katara, that we could have seen her shine in an elder role too.

(*I use terms like ‘girls’, ‘woman/women’ and ‘feminine’. I mean these to also include a broad interpretation of the Feminine than just the hetero/cis-normative one, but sometimes it helps when critiquing something to narrow things down esp something so already psychologically complex in a simple meta.)

#katara #legend of korra #lok #atla #pro katara #my meta #meta #my writing #jungian psychology #korra #amon #feminism #storytelling #avatar the last airbender #I just wanna see Katara fight Amon damn it I don't care who wins as long as it's a MASSIVE fight #also want to see either Katara save Korra or Korra save Katara #and some proper bonding and badass tuition #and then dunno waterbenders both hero and villain learn and grow and rebuild the Tribe

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kiarcheo · 4 years

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It’s All Coming Back to Me Now 6/?

To read on Ao3 click here (if lately you had the same problem with links on Tumblr as me, try removing the https://href.li/? part from the URL)

You can read the previous parts on Tumblr click here

DISCLAIMER: In Plato’s words. I know that I know nothing. It doesn't stop me from writing. As always this is fiction and what I write is what suits the narrative I want.

Also I feel like there are a lot of expectations about this one…not sure I met them, but this is what I got.

--------------------------------------------

For all the scenarios Katherine had thought of, her song putting a halt to the musical writing process had not been one of them. She doesn’t notice at first. Cathy’s song is the next one and she just assumes she is taking her time with it. She knows how careful the writer is when choosing her words (picky, Anne had teased her while telling them how long it took Cathy to decide on what to write on Kat’s birthday card). So it takes Kat a while to realise that Cathy never brings up the musical anymore. None of them do.

Their reactions to the song had been...strong. They have all come to care deeply about the youngest queen (and each other in general) and hearing what she went through...Rage does not do justice to what they felt...among many other feelings.

Catalina’s legs had given away beneath her halfway the first verse, a strangled noise alerting Anna, who had lunged forward and had barely managed to catch her before she hit the ground. Then Catalina had literally used her friend’s body to support herself and climb back to her feet. Anna had not minded, the contact grounding her. Even somehow knowing what to expect, it did not make listening to it any easier. So she had stood there, an arm loosely around Catalina’s shaking frame, ready to hold her up if need be.

As Katherine concluded her song, all you could hear in the control room were muffled sobs from all the queens. Until the girl stood up.

‘Get yourself together.’ Catalina had hoarsely growled. ‘It’s not about you.’

Cathy had not been sure if she had been talking to them or to herself. If she had to be honest, she had not expected such a visceral reaction from her. From Kat’s cousins, maybe, but not from Catalina. And not because she cared less or anything like that. Anyone spending some time with them could easily tell that Catalina loved Kat. Just…in a different way compared to Anne or Jane or even herself and Anna. Almost…maternal. Which makes sense if Cathy thinks about it. Catalina had been the only one of them who got to be a mother. And Kat was the youngest queen, in the past and also now that they came back, even if not by much (Cathy herself was just a few years older). But the first queen had always strived to maintain a certain degree of composure, even around them, while Anne and Jane had been more open with their emotions. For Catalina to let go, to let them see her so raw and exposed…

As soon as Kat had stepped into the room, Catalina had engulfed her in a tight hug. When Anne had tried to step in, she had immediately recoiled at the glare she had received. But after a while, with no sign of Catalina letting Kat go any time soon, Anne had given up on waiting for her turn, and just decided to try her luck and join the hug. With no protest forthcoming, it quickly became a group hug.

They had made sure to make crystal clear to Kat their support and willingness to listen or do anything she might need them to do. But what resulted was also an unsaid agreement among them not to bring up the topic unless Kat did it first. Which included not bringing up the musical since her song is all about that and what started everything.

Everyone took it hard, but nobody took it harder than Catalina. She knew 13-year-old Katherine. She remembers 13-year-old Katherine as if it was yesterday. To know what happened to her. Because she left her. Before, she had thought her death had indirectly led to Katherine’s marriage and consequently her death. But now…To know that as soon as she left her, everything bad started to happen to the girl she considers a daughter...The nightmares, which had petered off, come back with a vengeance.

That’s the main reason it takes a while for Kat to realise she hasn’t really thought or talked about the musical since she presented her song: all her focus and energy are on Catalina. She is back at spending her nights at her side, after arguing that she would be awake in her room anyway, so at least they can be awake together. It takes its toll on their days too. Not just because they are tired from sleepless nights. The only reason Catalina can still face Katherine is that she knows how hurt she would be if she were to go back at avoiding looking at her like when she first arrived. Catalina’s guilt is overwhelming and colours every interaction.

They are both aware of how it is affecting their relationship and decide to take remedial actions before it becomes too much and ruins it permanently: they are going to therapy.

It is not the first time the topic comes up. It had been one of the suggestions on the online forums they had looked at when Catalina had decided that it was time to start to deal with what they deemed, for the sake of brevity, ‘the Mary issue’. They had found some support groups for families of offenders. Among the advice on how to come to terms with a loved one committing terrible crimes, a common one was therapy. Except that Catalina could not exactly talk about her daughter burning people at stake for religious dissent without A) breaking the NDA she signed about not revealing her true identity to the public B) likely being considered deranged. That’s also why she never attended any group in person, limiting herself to research, reading and self-help with Katherine’s support.

But now, that is not enough, and Catalina is willing to try anything to save their relationship (and she thinks Katherine might benefit from talking about her trauma, properly…and with a professional). They decide to ask their ‘handlers’ for recommendations, taking advantage of their help as long as they can before potentially pissing them off with their musical. Considering the NDAs they had signed, it is likely in their interest that they don’t go to a random therapist and spill the beans. Indeed, they get a handful of names of approved professionals who are used to work with people not always able to fully disclose their past, or even their present (they didn’t get details, but their guess is something like witness protection or law enforcement) and thus won’t question weird gaps and omissions in patients’ histories.

They do some research and choose a practice with multiple therapists, all women, with different specialisations. The first meeting is with a senior partner who will get the laydown and decide whom, among the associates, refer them to.

‘My name is Doctor Sonya Newton, I’m going to ask you some questions to assess the issues and decide the best way to move forward, okay?’ the doctor starts after the prospective patients sit down. ‘It is important that you are as truthful and open as you can. If you don’t wish to answer, say so and we’ll move on, but please don’t lie. Lying will only, at best, undermine our efforts and at worst hurt them...or you. You are free to leave at any point, to decide that you don’t wish to continue, to look for another practice, again – I can’t stress this enough – at any point. We are here to help you, and if it’s not working for you…well, what is the point then?’

She waits for a response, and only after she gets a pair of tense nods, she moves on. ‘Now that ground rules are done. Let’s start with the basics. Can you tell me your name and your relationship with each other?’

‘My name is Katherine and I’m her-’ she hesitates.

‘Daughter. She is my daughter and I’m Catalina, her mother.’

The doctor scribbles something down. She didn’t miss the hesitation in Katherine’s answer nor the glance she sent the older woman, but neither she missed the elated look when Catalina took over and replied.

‘Who did decide to come?’ It’s the following question.

‘We both did.’ This time is Katherine who answers for both, Catalina nodding in agreement.

‘That’s good. When both parties are willing to put in the work…the first step is half the journey.’ Sonya smiles at them. ‘What are you hoping to get from these sessions?’

‘There are some...issues that are affecting our relationship and we realised we needed help to deal with them properly.’

‘That’s also good. Recognising there is a problem is the first step and doing something about it is the best second one.’ Catalina’s reply gets another approving nod from the doctor. ‘What do you think those issues are?’

They share a look, a response not coming as quickly as the previous ones.

‘Let me ask a different question. What do you hope the other will get from this?’

‘I hope she’ll realise that what happened to me was not her fault. She literally could not do anything about it. She feels guilty for stuff that was completely out of her control. I’ve never blamed her, not then, not now, and I wish she could see it.’

Sonya hums. She had not expected Katherine to take the lead. It is shaping up to be an interesting and perhaps rather unusual dynamic.

‘What about you?’

‘I know she feels guilty for me feeling guilty.’ It’s basically a self-feeding circle. Catalina feels guilty for what happened to Kat leading to nightmares and her instinctively trying to distance herself from the girl. Kat feels guilty that Catalina is suffering again from nightmares because of her, despite it not being her fault, and she is hurt because of the distancing. Which leads Catalina to feel even more guilty because she is hurting her. ‘But actually, the thing I really want is...for her to feel confident and secure in my love. Stop living in fear of disappointing me, in fear I’ll leave her-’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know-’ Kat had not realised she knew. ‘I know you would not do that, I don’t want you to think that-’

‘I know. I got you back and I'm never letting you go. No matter what. There is nothing you could do that could make me love you any less. Especially not something that was not your fault. It just breaks my heart every time you look surprised at me being proud of you, or you second-guess calling yourself my daughter-’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was hurting you, I-’ Katherine starts again.

‘That’s what I mean.’ Catalina interrupts her gently but addressing the doctor. Then she turns to Kat again. ‘You’re not responsible for my feelings. Just like you’re not responsible for my nightmares.’

‘I have some points I’d like you to elaborate a bit more on, if you don’t mind.’ Sonya says looking at her notes after waiting for some moments to be sure they don’t wish to say more on the matter. ‘But first. Do you agree with what the other said about you?’

She gets twin resigned sighs and nods.

‘Okay.’ She jots something down. ‘Now. You both referred to something that happened and you were not at fault for. Can you tell me what those things are?’

Catalina defers to Katherine with a look clearly saying ‘that’s your call’.

The girl swallows. ‘Sexual abuse.’

‘Child sexual abuse.’ Catalina growls.

The doctor looks down at her notepad. No matter how long you have been on the job and how much horrible stuff you hear, it never gets easier. She takes a moment to digest it, before moving on because she has a job to do. 'Do you blame yourself for that, Katherine?’

‘No. I know it was not my fault. I was a child and even later, I didn’t really have a choice.’

‘And you were still a child.’

‘Can I ask how old you were?’

‘It started when I was 13.’

The doctor nods. The girl looks in her early twenties at most, so that was not such a long time ago, especially if it went on for a while.

‘Do you feel or ever felt that your mother would think it was your fault?’

‘No. Not that. Just...that...she’d be…disappointed? Ashamed? Lots of people didn’t believe me, you know. Or thought I deserved what I got. Went looking for it.’ She gets lost in the memories for a few moments. ‘But I never thought she’d be one of them. But I also knew that it was not what she had hoped for me.’

‘Of course, it was not.’ Catalina almost spats out. ‘I would not wish that on my worst enemy, of course I would not wish that for my child.’

‘I always wanted to make her proud.’

‘You do.’

‘And I struggle to believe that. She is right.’ Katherine admits, referring to what Catalina listed as the main issue she hoped therapy would help her with. ‘It’s just that I’ve always looked up to her. I know she is not perfect. She doesn’t have to be. Not with me.’ She sends her a pointed look. ‘Look. I don’t know.’ Her tone is slightly defeated. ‘I’m generally quite confident in lots of things...but I just...feel like I don’t deserve her? After my mother died, she has been the only one who ever truly and genuinely loved me for myself without ulterior motives. Some days it’s just hard to believe that she did. Does. Since nobody else ever did.’

Catalina clears her throat. ‘I know four people who would argue about that...’

‘Until recently, I guess.’ Katherine corrects herself, a ghost of a smile appearing on her lips.

Sonya hums. ‘You mentioned your mother dying?’

‘I adopted her after we....reunited.’

‘That’s a lot to unpack.’ The doctor mumbles almost to herself as she keeps writing quickly on her notepad. ‘Am I correct in saying that you feel guilty about not stopping the abuse from happening?’

Catalina nods while Katherine mutters ‘Literally impossible.’

‘Can you give me some background? How did you meet? What happened...’

‘After her mother died, she was in my care,’ they had gone over what they could share and what not. Saying that Kat was taking care of Catalina would be strange, but the opposite made more sense and was expected, and it could explain their bond just like the truth would. ‘Then I had to-’

‘Leave.’

Catalina swallows and nods. That’s a way to put it. But she is glad that Kat did it for her...and like that. Her death is still a difficult topic for her. At first it had been more about the circumstances in which she died, but now, knowing what happened after...it’s even worse.

Sonya raises an eyebrow, as if to let them know she is aware that they are not telling the full story, but she nonetheless motions for them to continue.

‘I was sent to stay with some relatives. That’s where it started.’

‘Did you choose to leave?’ The doctor addresses Catalina.

‘No! It was,’ she takes a breath, ‘circumstances beyond my control.’

Sonya nods. It is not uncommon to know something rationally but emotionally still feeling guilty. ‘What happened after? Things seem to be better now...’

‘We were...brought back together.’ They beam at each other. ‘I officially adopted her.’

‘The last years had been the best of my life.’

The doctor can’t help smiling at the obvious happiness and love they radiate while talking about each other being together again. ‘Is there a specific reason you have decided to seek counselling now or is it just...right time, circumstances, things coming to a head now...’ she wonders.

‘Up until recently I had not shared what happened. Like, she knew how it ended, they all did. But not everything that came before.’

‘That’s a very brave thing to do. Sharing is never easy. Especially if you have done so in the past and have not been believed. And considering your fear of losing her love.’ She adds since that’s specific to her case. ‘Also I commend you for reaching out and looking for help. Both of you. Often admitting that you need help is the hardest step.’

---------------------------------

Therapy now joins Spanish, writing and creating a musical, and adoption in the list of things I wrote about in this fic I know very little of.

#six the musical #catherine and katherine #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #fic: It’s All Coming Back to Me Now #six fic #six the musical fic #six catherine of aragon #six katherine howard #mywork #my ideas #six writing #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #my six posts #my posts

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theastrophilearchitect · 3 years

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Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

Writing journey #4.

15/05/2021 07.22 My break has officially been over for five days, and i have done some writing, but it’s been incredibly inconsistent, so I decided to start this blog post over. Bay Tree has been archived, and though FSB isn’t done, I’ve realised I need to take a step back. It’s why writers leave weeks at a time between drafts--so when they return, they’re in a different mindset, and can improve their work.

For this same reason, I need to take a step back before I finish my outline. My thought process is becoming monotonous, which means I’m losing my excitement. When you start a project, you have the idea in your head as perfect, and when those ‘vibes’ become tangible, it is less exciting. That’s unavoidable. But I just need to take a step back, so when I return, I have fresh ideas, and the plot becomes more exciting to me.

So today, I’m going to start brainstorming a new idea I had, which I don’t have an alias for yet, and I have an idea to essentially bind every project I have together, but not in Grishaverse- or Shadowhunters-style where you need to read ten books just to read the one you want. Just a nod to anyone who does read multiple, like when Aelin falls through worlds and sees Rhys and Feyre for a split second.

So. Let’s brainstorm.

My plan, I think, is to alternate weekly. This week, I’ll work on the new one, next week I’ll do FSB. I could just take this new idea and apply it to FSB, except I just don’t see how that would work. I have different worlds in mind, and this new one is a fantasy where FSB is sci-fi(/fantasy. It’s kinda both).

16/05/2021 07.07 I really wish I was a pantser. Even though I haven’t got to the editing stage, my favourite part of writing is implementing new ideas and making changes, but I’m just not a pantser. I need to know where each part is going. Instead, I have to sit here, brainstorming, for days, to figure everything out.

18/05/2021 07.06 I did a lot of work on the 16th, but I was busy yesterday, and didn’t get any writing done, because, when I was free, I was just reading. So, I’ve decided I’m going to at least write before I leave the house, which gives me about 45 minutes this morning.

23/05/2021 18.30 Based on the fact it has been five days, I think you can tell how good I’ve been about keeping writing. The problem is that I don’t actually have much past a concept for my new project, so I’m trying to figure out how, precisely, I could merge the two projects. FSB is interesting, but doesn’t have a huge amount of depth, which adding the characters from the new project would absolutely do, while the new project is lacking plot, which FSB (at least the first book I’ve planned) does. So, I’m going to start a new Scrivener project, and consider how I can merge the two concepts while implementing both plots.

Is it too much? I have only two main characters in FSB, but five in the newer one, which gives me seven main characters, divided into three groups. And do I want to write a book with so many separate storylines? I know readers (myself included) always end up favouring one storyline over another, getting annoyed when certain POVs come up. I don’t know what to do.

I could keep the new project, but implement FSB? Hold up. New Project (NP) has two protagonists who could undergo a similar development to the protagonists of FSB... I had a plan for the male protagonist of FSB, his arc, which wouldn’t work for NP’s male protagonist, but would work perfectly for its female protagonist...

Tumblr’s glitching. It wouldn’t let me reblog a post earlier, and now it won’t let me save this draft. Please, no.

Okay, so I had to copy what I’d written for today, disconnect and reconnect to the Wi-Fi, then wait for my drafts to load to paste it. Going great!

21.00 So I didn’t get a huge amount done, because I caught up doing ~evening things~, but I at least have a plan going forward, which is an accomplishment

30/05/2021 09.29 I’ve spent the last couple weeks doing everything I can to avoid writing, but i now have an insane amount of free time, so I have no excuse. I want to use this time in a productive way, and, for me, that means writing.

03/06/2021 10.31 I swear to god, I’ve had ‘writing’ on my to-do list every single day, except not doing it is probably my own fault, because it’s been so far down on the list. Also, I’m doing a buddy read, but am also unfortunately descending into a reading slump, so even reading 50 pages takes me about 90 minutes--they’re not even long pages.

I actually went back onto my old Wattpad account earlier, where I found a load of old, unfinished stuff, but none of it was as bad as I thought it would be, and the ideas weren’t bad. I just really have no idea what it is I’m writing right now, and I hate trying to figure it out.

11.30 There are so many Ss in the word ‘assassin’ this is not okay.

This is actually going so well. I have two storylines in my head, a complex cast of characters, and I’m so looking forward to plotting this.

04/06/2021 08.04 Look at me, two days in a row. Anyways, I’m thinking I ought to name these characters ASAP, because it’ll be easier to shape them to their names than it will be to find a name which fits them once they’ve been shaped.

14.41 Here’s what I’m realising: I like to pants plots, but I can’t do that while I’m actually drafting, so I think my plan is actually to bullet point everything that happens, then revise that, then start drafting, so the story is basically set in the first draft.

I’ve actually gone through a lot of stuff--I have workable plot material!

17.16 So, me being me, I’ve semi-outlined (I say semi-, it’s more like a tenth) a trilogy, meaning I have ideas for three books following this storyline, and it... makes sense. It’s the kind of story where I can follow multiple arcs, a few at a time, instead of several overarching ones, or maybe it’s just that I’m letting myself.

07/06/2021 16.44 I don’t have a damn clue what I’ve spent the day doing. I haven’t done anything in a couple days because it was the weekend and I was busy, but I’m back now. The thing is, I haven’t spent the day reading, watching, drawing, or doing anything, really--it’s escaped me. But, at the very least, I’ve relaxed, so who cares?

I’m not applying story structure to the ideas I’m having quite yet--rather, I’m just developing them to see how they bloom on their own, then I’ll fit it in; it just seems like a more natural and effective way to develop.

Yeah, no. It’s too late in the day for this. I have zero motivation.

08/06/2021 09.49 Maybe I’ll accomplish something today; who knows? Certainly not me.

I’m now applying the 3-act structure, but I’m realising I have way too many details worked out for this--switching to more acts.

22.20 Why am I doing this to myself? I wish I could say I’m not entirely sure, but it’s because I can’t sleep, because this project, and my character Lihan, are the only things I can think about, so here I am. I don’t want to be a night writer, but que sera sera (I wish I could type accents on an English keyboard).

23.22 I accomplished more in the last hour on this project than I have in the last four days.

09/06/2021 - 1,115 words 09.29 I really hope I don’t prove today that night-writing is my sweet spot--I don’t want it to be. Can the world just let me have a functional sleep schedule??

Anyways, so, as I’ve mentioned before, I use Scrivener, which enables me to sort which documents are part of the manuscript from the ones that aren’t. I’ve been working outside of the manuscript, but I think I’m going to move them into it--I have a plan I believe will be more effective for my own drafting. I think I very much need the events to be set in stone before I begin writing in actual prose, so how can I do that? Especially when I also enjoy pantsing, but not in prose?

Here’s the plan: I plot out the main events, then bullet point everything in very high detail, similar to what many people call a zero draft, in which they draft a book in short form. I’ll sort the bullet points into chapters (but not scenes, because as I discovered with Bay Tree, I find scene-blocking makes the narrative less natural), leave it alone a while, then revise, so I can have my plot more-or-less set in stone before I work on prose.

As a result, I’m going to shift my plotting into the manuscript section, because it is, essentially, an early draft, and also I want a word count as a progress metre.

13/06/2021 - 1,611 words 8.18 Alas, I have been busy the last few days, but I’m here now.

9.20 The amount of secrets and who-knows-what in this story is genuinely absurd, but I’m sure I’ll clean it up eventually.

14.01 A few days ago, I came across a post about balancing large casts, which is exactly what I have, and the first thing it mentioned was the two-trait rule, in which every character has two traits completely unique to them, to help both reader and writer differentiate. Which I’m now going to implement.

14.42 I have these two characters, and I know exactly what I want their dynamic to be, except I can’t decide who should be which part of it.

I have made my decision. It probably works better now, but it does alter their roles, so I need to fix that.

I literally swapped them round solely because I decided one was taller than the other and thought it would be more interesting if the short one was the sadist. Why do I make my own life so difficult?

14/06/2021 - 1,574 words 11.08 I didn’t make an enormous amount of progress yesterday, but I did make some, and made notes of ideas for relationship arcs last night, so I count that a victory (forced optimism--surprisingly effective). I’m currently just working through bullet-pointing book one, while making notes of events I want in the rest of the series (I’m projecting three books, and telling myself I will finish them). I’m currently fiddling with one of my storylines to see how I can mould it to FSB’s and OH MY GOODNESS I JUST HAD A GREAT IDEA must take notes, one moment pleaseeee.

Okay, so I have four bullet points for relationship arcs and an idea to adjust one of the storylines--I’d say I have six main characters, two of whom are really the protagonists, two of which are my favourites, and the other two are fun, but in need of development. They’re split into a group of four and a pair, and I’m definitely more into the storyline of the four, mostly because the four contains my two favourites, and it’s more developed than that of the pair.

I’ve been keeping a list of things to add: motivations, loose plot threads, plot points I want to include--I really need to re-organise it.

On another note, I am so glad I named the characters as early as I did. I’m debating having two of the characters swap names, but I don’t think I will, because I will absolutely mix them up, and one of them is part of the perfect ship name.

My mouse isn’t working. I changed the batteries, but it’s not working, so now I get the joy of trying to figure out if the batteries I put in are just old or if the mouse no longer works, which would suck.

Yes, I’m going to describe this. Mostly because when I changed the batteries the first time, it took a minute to stop working, and this will waste a minute. So, first set of batteries, which we’ll call set 1, don’t work. I don’t know if it’s both or just one, but if it’s one, I don’t want to throw away both. I take out set 1, I put in set 2. Set 2 works perfectly. So it’s not the mouse. Now I take out battery 2B, and replace it with 1A, so I have 1A and 2A in here. I know 2A works, but I’m not sure about 1A, but the mouse works, so 1A is fine. Let’s replace 1A with 1B.

Yep. 1B is the problem child. 1A works fine, but 1B doesn’t. Lovely. Crisis averted. It would’ve really sucked it I had to get a new mouse. And back to writing!

12.13 I’m bouncing between documents as I organise, which means my word count is actually decreasing, so I feel like I’m making significantly less progress than I am.

I just realised my two protagonists are cousins. I’ve had it in my head that one’s father was the brother of the other’s father, but somehow I didn’t realise that makes them cousins.

I’m about to delete a list because I’ve reformatted it--my word count is currently at 1,958, but is really about to drop.

AND NOW WE’RE AT 1,572. My session word count is -32. Minus thirty-two. I hate it here, but it’s fine, because we’re ~developing~.

15/06/2021 - 2,113 words 09.39 It’s not even technically summer yet, but it’s too hot, and I hate it here. All the windows are open, so everything’s cool, there’s a nice breeze, and lots of light, but the birds are so loud, and I have to keep all the doors closed because the open windows send them swaying and slamming. You know when you close a door when all the windows are open and it slams? Yep. Not into it.

I feel like every day I try a new way to organise my plotting. I’m unsure as to whether that’s helping me or holding me back, because it forces me to review what I have, which usually sparks new ideas, but I’m not convinced I’ll ever get to the end as long as I keep doing this.

21/06/2021 13.40 I spent the latter half of last week with zero motivation, then I was busy at the weekend, but I’m here now. I’ve been trying to make myself write basically all day--I have a plan, and a list of things I’ve come up with the last few days, but I just couldn’t make myself do it. I’m not in a good mood, but maybe this will help.

I have, however, just reminded myself that I need to prepare this week’s post, because I sincerely doubt either this or my ongoing Recent reads will be ready for Friday. Actually, if I do quite a bit of writing this week, this post might be, but I’m not willing to bet on it.

And oh, crap, now I just want to write a blog post.

No. No I don’t. I started looking at the list of ideas I had, and now I’m just not feeling it. I’m pretty sure when I open my document for this project I’ll lose all motivation too, but it’s worth a shot.

There’s a specific relationship in an anime I recently watched that I want to pull apart--there’s this ship, and the author of the manga has called the two characters ‘soulmates’. There’s just this huge amount of tension between the two, and I want to re-watch the show because I love it, but also so I can take notes to figure out what was so effective about it.

13.53 I’ve been doing this for 13 minutes, but I do think I need to leave this project/outline alone for a bit, give it an opportunity to ruminate, to evolve. In truth, I may not even come back to it until I’ve re-watched the anime I was talking about so I can tear that ship to pieces.

17.33 So I just learned brainstorming is apparently significantly easier on paper. Hm. I’ve just worked out so damn much, stuff I’ve been struggling with.

18.00 I have successfully tied up so many plot threads, simply by working with pen and paper. This is revolutionary. (I know, not really, but it is for me, someone adamant about working with a keyboard and monitor)

22/06/2021 09.42 Seriously, why did I never try actually working on paper before? Something about holding a pen to paper and scribbling and drawing a mindmap--it just works. I’ve been obstinate about avoiding working on paper because I hate physically writing, yet here we are.

25/06/2021 11.09 I’m really not managing much reading at the moment--since I started reading manga, my attention span has just gone down the drain. I’m currently reading Mister Impossible by Maggie Stiefvater, and I don’t think it helped that I had to stop less than a third of the way in to do a buddy read, but I just don’t have much motivation to read it, though I do so want to. I haven’t been listening much to audiobooks lately either, because when I’d usually listen--when I’m getting dressed, waking up, going to bed etc.--I just want to listen to music, because I also recently fell down the well of k-pop, and the group whose discography I’m getting to know at the moment is BTS. Basic, but they’re the fifth group I’m doing, and they have so many songs. Which would happen after eight years, but still.

I want to read so, so badly, but I just don’t feel like reading Mister Impossible. But I do want to finish it before reading anything else. I think I’ll finish my current audiobook, then if I’m still feeling stagnated in Mister Impossible, I’ll switch to the audiobook of that, then just take a break from reading until I’m ready to actually read.

But this post is for writing, not reading. I did write on the 23rd, but I just didn’t update this post. The 24th I was busy, but my wall is now covered in post-it notes of world-building, characters, gods, plot points, and a whole load of other stuff.

Also, I had an idea for a book title this morning--not for this one, just in general--and when I went to add it to my list, I found a title that would so suit this project. I don’t want to say it, but let’s just say this project will be called ItLotG--or not. That’s a hideous combination of letters. I promise it is actually a good title.

11.52 I’m having another crisis over these two characters. I’m thinking it would make more sense to have L’s betrayal ‘arc’ initiated before the catalyst, or rather have it be the catalyst, except the problem there is that they’re not in the city they need to be in to receive that offer.

UNLESS,,,, what if this point happens just while they’re in the capital.... I’ve got it.

17.16 I’ve been taking notes this whole time of everything I want to happen in books 2 and 3, and I have so much now i think they’ll be so much easier to plot than this one.

The downside of working mostly on paper is that my plans on Scrivener have been refined to one document, which is now only 878 words.

Right now, there’s a glaring hole between the midpoint and the ending, but my climax is one of those where the climax itself is a very small part of a bigger event, so if I figure out what I want to happen in this big event which is essentially the whole of the third act, I should be able to fill in the rest of Act Two with the setup for that.

So I’m leaving it there for both today and this post. In the last month or so, I decided to start over and mash two projects together, which created a whole new storyline I love, and now I’m mostly done with the first outline. I want to treat outlines as more than just preparation for drafts, because I find notes so much easier to edit than actual prose, and I hate writing without a clear idea of where I’m going.

I think I’m going to call these ‘runs’--an outline is a run through, a draft a run through, so I’m nearly done with my first run, and I’m very proud of that, so go, go write the idea you have, drink some water, take a nap if you need one, eat if you haven’t eaten in a few hours, and I’ll be back with another writing update innnnnnn probably august, honestly.

Go write that idea!

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