#also first time I’ve colored in a very long time Ik they look kind of off ignore that

[bakutenshi]

The ceiling is looking very ceiling today!

[thehighladywrites]

What's set as your phone's lockscreen?

Cheese or chocolate?

Do you have any nicknames?

Last song you listened to?

Have you ever written fanfiction?

Are you on discord?

Do you have any piercings?

 What do you think says the most about a person?

If you were a cookie, what kind would you be?

Are you more of a dog person or a cat person?

Headphones or earbuds?

What's the last thing you said out loud?

What's a weird fact that you know?

Are you a morning person or a night owl?

Favorite place to nap?

Are you a member of the LGBTQIA+ community?

Describe yourself in three words.

Jeans or sweatpants?

What's your go-to Starbucks order?

A color you can't stand?

What's your most prized possession?

Coffee or tea?

Favorite extinct animal?

How long have you been on tumblr?

Desert island item?

Describe your aesthetic.

What's your dream job?

Relationship status?

Describe your favorite outfit.

Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

What color is your hair?

Do you talk to yourself?

Do you wear makeup?

Best compliment you ever received?

@ your favorite blog.

ohhh anon ngl this was super fun to answer, thanks for sending it to me 💜

I have a light pink basic wallpaper, nothing fancy

Chocolate, always

My friends and siblings call me Ama, amara or mara, i’m also called aisha, which is my middle name💗

Teacher’s pet bc i’m trying to get into the mood when writing professor Eris pt 3💀🤤

Yess, this is the blog I write fanfics on!!

Nope!!

I have my nips pierced, I have three piercings in each ear and a nose stud. Bro when I tell you I almost passed tf out?? I hate needles but like i love to look cunty🤷🏽‍♀️

I honestly don’t know, maybe my kindness? I’m empathetic and very emotional. The thought of making someone sad or making them feel bad makes me feel physically ill.

An oreo, basic but delicious

Cat person for sureeee, i think dogs are cute but i prefer kitties

Headphones for sure, I never leave my house without them. I really recommend them too, they’re called skullcandy hesh evo and have amazing noise cancellation

I said fuck out loud

Did you know that goats have accents? Yeah, a goat from europe won’t understand a goat from asia. My grandmother owns goats and she let me know. At first I thought she was fucking with me but it’s true.

A night owl through and through, I sleep during the days and im awake during the nights

My bed for sure, it’s so comfortable bc i have the softest blankets and a massive comforter. My mattress is super plushy and it feels like sleeping on a cloud.

I think i’m bi with a preference for women

funny as fuck, introverted, anxious

Sweatpants at home, jeans outside

I don’t drink starbucks

obnoxiously bright and strong colors

Neither, I like super sweet drinks, but gun to my head the probs coffee.

Dinosaurs, love those lil fuckers

I’ve had this blog for almost 3 months but I had my old account for about 1 year.

If i could bring one item to a deserted island, i’d bring a sharp knife.

I think hyperfeminine and dark academia. My room is super cute in my opinion and it’s a mix between pink and dark colors. My outfit inspos are rachel green, monica geller and jasmine tookes.

My dream job is being a housewife and i’m so serious. I’m not made to sit in an office or work long hours. I just wanna stay at home, bake, look cute, make a house into a home and just exist. Is it really that hard 😩

I’m happily married to my hot wife @rowaelinsdaughter i love her SO MUCH🫶🏽

My fav outfit that I repeat is this one huge white sweater paired with my black pants, I pair it with black boots and a black long coat with a scarf from acne studios

anything chase atlantic, the nbhd, ldr, melanie martinez, burna boy ik the lyrics to hella songs but by fav is probably show me how by men i trust or art deco by ldr

My hair is black, jet black

yes, I talk to myself all the time…

Yes, I wear make up all the time I love it!!

That I have a nice vibe and energy. And I was once told by my sister that i’m the one she calls first for everything bc i’m the one she wants hearing good news first. She said she trusts me the most and i nearly cried😭😭😭

Here are my fav blogs -> !!!!

[paradoxical-catastrophe]

I have oc info. Just little tidbits I have stored in my head that I can’t really convey in rp. It’s long btw

Also I have a Pinterest board for silly oc stuff if u wanna see

Zee:

- I looked up paranoid personality disorder and. That’s him. Frfr

- He is Anxiety (tm)

- Paranoid personality disorder, anxiety, depression, CPTSD, psychosis… I think that may be it ?

- Catch him checking the locks to the doors and windows several times a day despite not having gone out/opened the window all day

- He also wakes up often through the night. Or well he used to. He’s taking some new medication to prevent psychosis episodes and it makes him Eternally Tired

- So he now sleeps a lot

- Catch him napping on the couch once or twice a day

- He sleeps even better now that he’s got Shin and the two kitties. Bc if something happens they’ll be awake to notice. And the kitties can actually hear n stuff so no worries about that

- He and Mirai actually ended things on pretty good terms back when they were dating. All that anger from Mirai happened like. After they broke up. And (unless Riley says otherwise) it’s not really bc of the breakup

- His purple scarf was originally from Sou but when Mirai was created by Riley I had to change it and say it was a gift when they were dating

- It’s MY OCS I GET TO DO WHAT I WANT *makes an au where Mirai and Zee didn’t break up and worked it all out and they have a healthy relationship together*

- Oh also I have a non death game AU where Zee is a fire dancer. For no other reason than I like firedancing. His outfit is red and sparkly and fitting and he wears a black mesh mask that covers his entire face. He remains completely anonymous and does mostly street performances!! For lack of better ideas I’ve decided his like. Performing name is Refel.

Zee AI:

- tiny boy. I wuv him. hes my son

- tho be patient he might be going through a small gender crisis

- I weep at his and Mirai’s relationship. It’s so wholesome

- Also imagine tiny zee in a dinosaur onesie

- If you’re not melting at the thought you’re not a real one smh

- So anyways

- Boy is also traumatized but. Slightly less. Kind of.

- He hasn’t recognized how traumatized he is

- He tends to go nonverbal actually! But it’s hard to rp that so. I wanted to say it here since I don’t really do it over rp

- (Like I rp him much anyways)

- He gives total kidcore energy

- Bright colors, lots of kandi, also frog plushies

- Oh another thought for you: imagine Mirai carrying tiny Zee in the dinosaur onesie on his back. Zee just dozing off and snoozin

- If you don’t melt at the idea. Get out.

- Also he totally plays animal crossing all the time I don’t make the rules

Synapse:

- I mean ik hes dead but I never talked about him much anyways so. Here! Idk what all I revealed so I’ll reveal basically Everything

- Ofc Synapse isn’t his real name but I forgot what his real name was… it was some basic name. Like River? Was that it? I don’t know

- Anyways he grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere. He’s one of like. 7 or so siblings. One of the younger ones.

- His family runs a farm and has a barn n stuff and they kinda like. Host people who want to experience farm life for a few days

- Synapse did a lot of the hospitality stuff, as well as his siblings. But he also took care of the animals a lot (hence his fondness for animals)

- But he REALLY hated it. Like. He hated it so much. He didn’t like his parents, they were very uh. Traditional I guess is the word? And quite religious. But he got along ok with some of his siblings who also shared his view of hating the parents

- Maybe I’ll like make an oc that’s his sibling- Oo that’s a good idea

- Anyways. So he got in a big argument with his parents and then got kicked out. Or moved out. I don’t remember. So that’s when he left and went to a small community college

- He wasn’t too smart at first. Like he knew how to read and write but like. That’s the extent of it. He was homeschooled by his parents. But he picked things up quick and soon got fascinated with the social aspects of the city

- Since he basically spent all his life rural, he’d never seen what a city was like and it was a bit of a kinda culture shock to him. But soon he started reading about it and saw how people did in communities. So he formed one

- Yup. Just a normal community.

- So yeah! That’s most of it

[starry-wren]

Sunlight: An Original Character Story

by WrenTheDragon

Words: 1195. No content warnings apply. 

A cute, fluffy little bit of gay romance <3 hope you enjoy 

First time I post my writing on here ik it’s bad just bear with me 

Character descriptions, because I didn’t feel like working them in there:

Will’s desc: Will has pale skin and dark brown eyes. He has dirty blond hair that he dyes lighter. It is long enough to be parted and one side swoops forward a bit. He loves to wear jackets with band t-shirts and occasionally (but very rarely) he wears a baseball hat. He also wears tight, usually light denim jeans. He sometimes dyes his nails black when he feels like it. Taller than all his friends, but still average height. 

Ryan’s desc: Ryan has dark brown fluffy hair and grayish eyes. His skin is slightly darker than Will’s and he has dark freckles if he goes in the sun. He loves hoodies and sweaters and has not worn a short sleeved shirt or shorts in a very long time. He is shorter than August, but just by a little bit.

August’s desc: August has dark brown, long but still slightly fluffy hair. She dyes the front two strands various colors, but usually pink or red. She has tan skin and grayish eyes. She would get freckles if she ever went in the sun. Taller than Ryan by a little bit (even on estrogen) and likes to rub it in his face. 

Well now, let’s get on with the story 

I woke up to the screeching tone of my alarm clock. I felt around for the snooze button and slammed my hand down onto it. I’ve always hated that alarm clock, it signaled that it was time for me to wake up at an awful hour to go do pointless busywork in a building full of judgmental popular kids. But today was different. Today Ryan was coming back. 

I haven’t seen Ryan in two weeks, he’s been away visiting his cousins. Ryan’s family lives pretty far away, so he usually stays a while when he goes to visit. He doesn’t like his cousins much though, they’re the kind of girls who always drown themselves in makeup and are addicted to Snapchat. Ryan texted me a lot about the stupid stuff that they did. I haven’t seen him in person for so long, maybe today we could bike to the ice cream shop together, or take a walk in the forest…

My alarm clock started to beep again. Fuck. I roll out of bed. I remember on the first day of school the world felt so cold and foreign when I woke up. Now it felt bright, and full of possibility. I looked over and saw how pretty the yellow-orange sunbeams spilling through my curtains were, and how the particles of dust danced illuminated in the air. Life is so much different if you have someone to look forward to. 

I eat my breakfast as fast as possible, and run out the door to the bus stop. Ryan isn’t there. He’s usually a bit late though, always getting distracted by little things and sleeping in too much. I waited and looked behind me at Ryan’s house a couple times, hoping to see his front door open. Sometimes he would sneak up behind me and grab my shoulders while I was distracted by waiting for him. That usually scared me half to hell, and Ryan would always laugh at me. 

I hear the door creak behind me. I look over to see not Ryan, but his twin sister August. They’re identical twins, but they really don’t look much like each other. She joins me at the bus stop. 

“Hey Will. Bet you wish Ryan was here instead of me, huh?” She smiles smugly. August really loves to be annoying about me and Ryan.

“No, I uh..” What are you even supposed to say in this situation? “Where is he?”

August chuckles. “Currently, digging through the massive pile of stuff on his desk. Probably lost his homework” 

We hear the bus stop at the corner. August sighs and walks back to the door. “Ryyyyyyyan!!! The bus is here, get fucking ready!” 

Ryan runs out. His bag is open and haphazardly slung around only one of his shoulders. My face lights up when I see him, and I hope August can’t tell. August smirks at me. Ugh. Guess she can tell. 

“How can you ever think that is pretty?” she whispers to me. I ignore her. 

I walk onto the bus behind Ryan. I look at his hands, how his fingers perfectly curve, how soft they look. I really want to hold his hand. Do I usually think about Ryan this much?

He sits on our bus seat and smiles, he looks at me like I’m glowing. I sit down next to him. With the sun shining through the window behind him, he really is glowing. I forgot just how pretty his face was. The bus starts to move. 

“So, did you miss me?” he says, playfully raising his eyebrows. Of course I missed him. 

“I miss getting the whole bus seat to myself.” I say jokingly. 

“Well, too bad!” He grins and turns to put his foot next to me on the seat, pushing me towards the aisle. 

I want to lay on his lap in protest, but the awful homophobic kids have decided to sit in the seat diagonal from ours. I shove his leg back onto the floor and we both laugh. I scoot back next to him, a little closer now. Our knees are almost touching. 

“I uh.. got something for you!” Ryan says. “I was wrapping it, that’s why I was late.” He rustles through his backpack for something, and pulls out a small velvet bag. 

He hands it to me, and our fingers brush for a second. Ryan’s fingers feel so warm, but that’s probably because my hands are always cold. I open it, and inside is a bracelet. The bracelet has pretty blue and white beads, and a piece of sea glass. It’s one of the pieces of sea glass that I gave Ryan when we went to the beach. 

“You used the sea glass I found at the beach,” I’m trying not to, but I can feel myself smiling a big stupid smile. He’s smiling at me too. It makes me want to lay in his arms and sink into his hoodie and stay there forever. His hand is on the seat next to mine. I extend my littlest finger and lay it on top of Ryan’s. He looks down at his hand and smiles even wider.

He looks up and turns back towards me “Guess what, they’re matching!” Ryan says, and pulls down his hoodie sleeve a bit. He reveals a bracelet almost identical to mine, except for the shape of the sea glass. 

“Aww, that’s so sweet” I say “Thank you” I put my whole hand on top of his and grab it. My nail polish is chipping, I should probably repaint it soon. I lean into his side and rest my head on his shoulder, just for a second. It’s as if Ryan is the sun, made of all the light and happiness in the world, and when I touch him I get to feel a little bit of the warmth that he holds. I missed this most of all. He rests his head on mine just a little bit, but people are walking past us boarding the bus so we have to sit up straight again. We’re almost at school. 

“I actually did miss you, you know.” I say.

“I missed you too. But you know what I didn’t miss? School.” The bus is driving through the parking lot. “I hate practice tests and reviewing because I forget everything from the beginning of the semester.” 

“At least you have classes with the smart and talented moi to help you out” I joke, pointing to myself with a flourish. 

We both laugh. People are getting off the bus so I squeeze Ryan’s hand before letting go and stand up, and he follows behind me. As he walks off the bus towards the side entrance to the school(we have different first periods) waving at me, I wonder what would happen if I took his hand and ran away with him to the field, so I could have him all to myself. I walk away, and look at my bracelet. I squeeze my jacket sleeve and smile to myself. I feel like I always feel after leaving Ryan, like there’s still a little trace of sunlight burning in my heart.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

070 of 2023

What’s your definition of weird?

Beautiful.

Do you use shaving cream?

I mean, I only shave my face and maybe somewhere else, but sure.

When was the last time you cleaned your room? Is your room clean?

Yesterday and nope, but it looks better already.

Have you ever personally known any girl who shaved their head?

I know one who had to have her head shaved for the same reason as me. I met her in the hospital last year.

Have you ever known anyone who committed suicide?

Yes. It’s a painful story, he was only 16, but severely mentally ill.

Have you ever tried to commit suicide?

No, but I used to think about it.

Have you ever coughed up blood?

No, never.

How do you wish you could die?

Dying is overrated, I want to be immortal.

What’s the longest phone conversation you’ve had lately?

Five minutes, no kidding. Too long for me already.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?

My husband.

What were the last words you said?

“Ik hou van je” ^.^

Who was the last person you hugged?

Also my husband.

Do you have any apps on your Facebook? If so, what?

I don’t use Facebook.

What’s some of the worst pain you’ve ever felt?

Pain after surgeries. Horrible.

What kind of mouse pad do you have?

The green one, from ACV.

What color is your mouse?

White and grey, it’s wireless.

Do you or have you ever had an eating disorder?

Yeah, I do. Sadly.

Do you think you’re fat?

All the time.

Do you know any who might be anorexic? Do you know anyone who has bulimia?

Some people over the internet forums, but no one in person. I do have EDNOS, though.

Did you ever want a pony when you were little?

Yeah, I used to. But when I was very little.

What’s your favorite cheese?

Gouda, but young. Dutch chreese ftw.

What’s your favorite cake?

Cheesecake, but I’m not a big fan of cakes.

What are you having/what did you have for dinner tonight?

Chicken wings and fries.

What’s your favorite dessert food?

I don’t like dessert.

What’s your favorite candy?

I don’t like sweets.

Have you ever had a Nos?

What’s that even? A olish word for nose? If so, then everybody does, I suppose.

How long have you been taking this survey?

Too long already.

What are you listening to right now?

There’s TV in the background, as usual.

What is the closest thing to you right now that is alive?

My older cat.

What’s your worst fear?

Failure and losing.

Are you an outcast?

Kind of, but not 100%, I’d say.

Do you exercise?

Every day. I walk a lot and I work on my arms.

Do you hate it when people repeat themselves?

Nah. I do it as well XD

Do you say like a lot?

Yeah, like... You see :P

What’s your favorite carnival food? (cotton candy, corn dogs, funnel cake)

Fries and frikandels, but you can get them in every fries shop. We don’t have anything separate for carnivals :P

Do you have a good memory?

Nah, my memory is horrible. At least short-term. My long-term memory, as in things I’ve been studying, is great.

Do you dislike writing school essays?

I hate it. I have no literacy skills, really.

Are you a very open-minded person?

I am. In my eyes, everyone is equal. I’m not judgemental either.

Are you modest?

More than I should be, possibly.

What kind of guys/girls do you usually fall for?

With good personalities. For appearance, I don’t seem to have a type. All I need is beautiful, expressive eyes.

Do you skate?

I don’t, but it sounds fun.

Are you in a band?

Nope. It was my dream when I was, like, 12.

Can you play the guitar? If not, what other instrument do you play?

I don’t. You need two good hands for it, and I’m physically disabled.

If you were to make it big with your own band, what would its name be?

Mzake it big... that’s commercial. No.

What’s your favorite kind of pasta?

Penne. But most of all, I like that mushroom tomato one from Bavet.

Would you rather a friend come over to your house or you go over there?

Either. Both sound fun.

What’s the perfect first date?

Guys night in a pub, with lots of beer.

Have you ever had rabies?

It’s deadly, I wouldn’t be tyoping here if I had it.

Do you know anyone who ever had to get a rabies shot?

My mum because she got bitten by a dog.

Have you ever gone hunting?

No, but it doesn’t sound appealing to me.

Ever eaten deer? Duck? Squirrel? How about lamb?

Duck and lamb. Duck is okay, lamb I difdn’t like much.

Are you a vegetarian?

As close to it as possible. Not fully, though.

Do you know any vegetarians? What about vegans?

I do, but not in person.

Do you know what a vegan is? How about fruititarian?

Do you think people are stupid?

What’s your favorite search engine?

Google by default, but it doesn’t mean I like it.

Internet Explorer or Firefox? Safari or Firefox?

Opera, yup.

Do you have hair in your nose?

Doesn’t everyone to some extent?

How long, in miles, is the width of your fingernail?

In miles? Maybe in kilometres?

Are you a math wiz?

Yeah, but I prefer physics anyway.

What’s your favorite subject?

Physics, as I said.

What is your locker number at school? Do you have a lock on your locker?

I’m not in school, I do work, our work lockers don’t have numbers and my uni doesn’t have lockers. Yeah, all my work lockers have locks.

Have you ever received a note in your locker?

Yeah, long ago.

Do you like to laugh?

I do. I laugh a lot, actually.

[mangosimoothie]

ik u said to ignore it but i cant ignore it because im a natural snoop and i fucking love reading tags. its where people show their colors and i think everyone has a rainbow inside them. which prompts me to say that u dont have to answer this. hell, u can ignore this.

anyway, maybe its coz im using tumblr wrong. i literally only come here to grab some *feels* (good and bad) at the popular reblogs and then occasionally join in the simblr "oooh" and "gaaah!!" eras that i feel like im missing out on what u call the Back in the Day tumblr era. tumblr was advertised to me as a blogging site so like lmfao.

maybe its also because of the power of the anon feature that i can actually make myself be able to enter ur ask box without feeling too shy or scared that im here to comment on ur post. is it because we're far too scared to interact beyond the comments or is it because drama (not sure if theres a better word for it, controversy maybe?) has scarred us and being able to comment on things without the anon feature kind of scares us all now?

regarding simblr drama posts that blow up, u could probably also contribute it to bandwagon, right? like obv, its not the only reason it blows up but bandwagon helps. its far too easy to join in the opinion that everyone agrees on and parrot it around. like idk if im making sense but isnt it kinda easier to "not have an opinion" but rb that other person's opinion/fact that the rest of the community has deemed correct or right as if its your own (ok maybe this sentence sounds bad and i could probably phrase it as "i have an opinion about it but this other person has worded it so perfectly that i will rb this instead". anyway i'll leave it in coz the previous one could be true to some people). not that its bad, im honestly glad most of us agree on smth, it just sometimes loses that sense of discussion u probably meant if we're all just parroting everything.

i mean, i've seen it happen. especially during certain major events here where my dash was full of the same post being reblogged by myself and a couple others with no additional ideas (even tags sometimes, like i said i love tags i think tags hold a lot of unspoken but spoken ideas if u get it).

i had a point here somewhere. anyway what i meant to say was, i think i have similar feelings with u regarding discussions (lmfao look at this long post). but im far too scared to get out of anon to actually have it with u or anyone else in simblr.

have a good day/night tho :"D

Hahah no thank you for snooping on my tags 😅 what I meant to say is, I notice that most engagement happens through likes instead of comments, which is just really frustrating because yeah, I am used to tumblr being more of a forum so likes feel very empty to me. Unless it’s “”drama”” then yeah like you said, people are more inclined to comment. Like my first post that blew up was literally just “not someone charging $3 for sims nipples” or st like that which was really funny but also a little sad bc I would’ve loved to engage like that on posts I actually cared about and that weren’t just me being cheeky lol. That said, I understand what you mean about feeling too shy. I asked about this earlier - why ask questions on anon if they’re not mean - and for most people yeah, it boiled down to being shy or not wanting to seem over eager. But I LOVE when people are eager about my nonsense, I LOVE when people ramble like this in tags or comments or my inbox about my story/sims. That is the sole thing that’s kept me active here tbh - the couple people who comment and send me asks instead of just throwing a like here and there. I’ve been told many times that engagement on simblr is a lot lower than it used to be which is a little discouraging. I’ll look at my friends with large blogs and even though their stories get 100s of likes there’s still only 2-5 comments! I’d be pulling my hair out!! Maybe it’s a pet peeve that’s kinda specific to me lol but it does bother me sometimes especially when I put a q like hey tell me what you thought about x or whatever the case may be. Like even going so far as to be like “instead of a like tell me about x :) “ and that still not working. I guess that’s just not the way people engage on tumblr anymore :/ 🤷🏾‍♀️

[noramoons]

yeah hair colors change so fast you blink and it’s new (and more often than not looks great) and you just have to recover from the whiplash LOL and yeah I didn’t start stanning txt till last year but after p much going through their whole discography and really getting invested I can say that they absolutely did not disappoint with this cb (it’s actually my first cb after stanning them too btw ^^ I started stanning after gbgb came out but I’d casually liked them since way back. it’s a story lol)

and yeah ffxiv has one of the best stories I’ve ever experienced in video games I’m so glad I took my time with it. it doesn’t take 6 months to complete and I’m sure ppl have done speedruns I just decided to go slow. It does have side content you can unlock but you can always go back and open it, no need to start another run. the game has technically been out for almost or about 10 years and had four expansions which are basically full games/sequels so it’s no surprise it was a long journey but it was an emotional ride and one of the best experiences I’ve ever had so it was worth every second. honestly one of the best written stories imo too everything was amazing and so well-written just *chef’s kiss* fr beck 🤌🏼🤌🏼😩😩

no this is so true they rlly will change that hair color NONSTOP i rlly am sometimes concerned for their roots 😭 i’m sure they’re treating their hair right but sometimes it does look Very crispy agfndndh

and AWWW omg this is such a good first txt cb to start with !!! i knew you said you’d kinda been casually around since blue hour i think ?? which is abt when i got into them too hehe but it’s absolutely never too late to start stanning, they’re such a fun group and i rlly do think this album was one of their best. it was just inexplicably Them like idk how to say it 😫 their sound and their whole concept was just so txt (and i’m just also always a sucker for anything peter pan related tbh)

and aaaa okay okay i see !! that’s good that you were able to go thru it and really enjoy the story, that says a lot abt the quality that you were willing to devote time to it for that! i didn’t realize it had been out for 10 years tho?? :O i knew there were several games but i wasn’t sure if they were all direct sequels or spin-offs or what ahaha. didn’t they also remake ffvii? that’s the only thing i kind of know about bc i remember a few of my friends irl talking about it LOL but what was that about 👁️👁️

but i’m glad it’s been such a good payoff for the time you’ve put into it !! i love when something is so well written that it almost feels like a reward in a way hehe. and ik you have absolutely immaculate taste izzy so if you say the storyline is good then i KNOW it’s good 😎

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

sorry in advance for the sheer amount of ideas and words

GiH

whenever tommy encounters a dementor he either appears unaffected or he starts screaming and crying and just goes catatonic since whenever in the presence of one or more dementors the person(s) around them relive their worst memories

also since tommy is a phoenix in this au I propose: 2b2t tommy. aka Bloodletter aka the risen aka the phoenix

it’s perfect bc more angst

ooooo what if he’s the son of Death? like he’s the actual angel of death, not phil. everyone just assumes it’s Phil bc the description of the angel of death fits him rly well. blond hair, blue eyes, British accent, wings, extremely skilled at fighting and survival in general. so like tommy summons Death cuz he misses his mum and everyone is freaking out bc this child just summoned the embodiment of death and then fucking hugged her and said hi in such an excited and happy voice and I just. this < 3 besides he’s called the zombie child for a reason

and tommy encounters a bogart and there’s the sounds of explosions and screaming and crying and it constantly switches from techno to vilbur to schlatt to eret to dream to phil to a bloodied and bruised tubbo and somewhere in there there’s the disc confrontation and it’s just “it’s okay tommy, I’ve lived a long enough life” “what will I be without you?” “yourself” and there’s also tubbo saying that it’s him and tommy against the world and there’s a chorus of “it was never meant to be” and then there’s “kill me phil! kill me! murder me right now!” and then “tommy, let’s be the villains” followed by “you wanna be a hero tommy? THEN DIE LIKE ONE” and there’s Dream saying “it’s not your time to die” and then there’s “I’m sorry please dream I’m sorry please-“ “sorry doesn’t cut it tommy” and then more explosion sounds and then there’s schlatt saying “my first decree as president, as emperor of this great country, is to REVOKE the citizenship of wilbur soot and tommyinnit” then schlatt saying “do you know what happens to traitors tubbo? they get executed” followed by techno saying “I’m sorry tubbo. I’ll try to make this as painless and colorful as possible” followed by the sound of tommy shouting tubbos name and fireworks and then techno saying “welcome home Theseus!” and laughing and then techno saying “blood for the blood god” then there’s a chorus of “flames for the phoenix” and “the angel of death” and “bloodletter” and then there’s the sound of wilbur saying “let’s blow that place sky high!” and “everyone betrayed us tommy! you can’t trust anyone! tubbo? he’s going to betray you!” and Dream saying that everyone hates tommy, how he’s his only friend, how he doesn’t have the guts to- how this is for tommys own good, and then tommy shouting for Sam and phil and Dream saying that he’s stuck with him, it’s going to be just like exile and the whole time tommy just looks so so tired and sad and apathetic and he’s kinda dissociating ig while everyone else is just. staring in horror and fear and shock

tommy gets hit with the crucio curse and he just powers on

anygay, moving on from the angst (for now)

mandrake: *screams*

tommy: *screams louder to assert dominance*

Ranboo: uh, should we stop them?

Purpled: no, I wanna see who wins

(tommy wins)

tommy: *vibing and trying to be all tough and intimidating*

thestral: *comes up to him and gently headbutts him and demands pats*

tommy, crying: I would die for you

Tommy gets a feral af great gray owl that has been returned to the shop many times bc she is simply untamable and he names her Clara and he is the only one that she tolerates

the ghosts are like “bruh you’re supposed to be dead” and tommys just vibing like “lmao yeah ik”

he has white streaks in his hair

the purplish white streaks are from the lightning strike, and the white bangs are from, well, he’d rather not say

he sees a niffler and he’s just like “finally someone who understands!!”

literally anything: *happens*

tommy: that’s weirdchamp but pog on

*when Phil gets summoned*

Phil, in an echoey and booming voice: WHOMST

tommy, in the distance: FUCK YOU PHIL

Phil, going back to normal voice: tommy?? didn’t you fuckin die???

labinnit canon pog?? tommy literally made in a lab and the staff finding out about it and going what the actual fuck???

okay but consider this: tommyinnit in hufflepuff, ranboo in gryffindor, purpled in ravenclaw, and tubbo in slytherin. tommy is loyal and kind, ranboo deserves to bond with neville over being anxious memory boys tm in gryffindor, from what I’ve seen purpled is pretty intelligent, and tubbo literally has nukes

harpy/phoenix hybrid tommyinnit pog?? he eats anything and everything he can get his hands on??? he squawk

~mooch

Holy shit. Okay. This is all amazing though. This is all amazing. I love all of your ideas.

Also about the house things, that's true. That's very true. That does make sense and that's why they are so hard to put them in houses. I do like the current ones though but it does make sense for that.

Anyways ouch on the boggart thing. Ouch.

[abittersweetsongforyou]

wtfock fic recs part 2

saddle up for pt 2 babyyyy

wtfock fic recs pt 1

the underrated (just read them trust me they're brilliant)

wishing, wanting and longing by dottori

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart by orphan_account This isn't our first time around by noobishere this is us, through your eyes by dottori - with yasminas season starting id like to draw everyones attention to this fic from yasminas pov its sweet and sentimental and lovely and the fact that it has under 100 kudos is a fucking crime Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) by berrevy - i love this author so much and this fic is so good, i love the way they're written here, the description is beautiful, 10/10 A morning without you is a dwindled dawn by Createdforyou - so soft i love seeing them just living their lives together Elayna Aan Zee by zetaphiuchi(ryuujitsu) - this one is sad and maybe sander forgives too quickly but its beautifully written and i love it you're an angel in disguise (you're an angel in my eyes) by thekardemomme - this is so sweet and lovely and warm everyone should read it I do now. by irregardlxss - robbe tells jens about the hate crime dreaming of you by ivy_seas - just them being happy at christmas time hold all my cliches on the tip of my tongue by nbrook - they're dorks and they're too horny for their own good but they love each other very much i've never been in love (but i wanna be, i wanna be) by ladypeaceful - what if sander took noors place at the party in episode 1 we have the stars (and this is given once only) by merengue - military au but also childhood friends and its so soft and beautiful and they love each other so much Agents Sliding Down The Chimney by berrevy - i seriously cannot recommend berrevy enough this is a christmas fic thats a little sad but also a whole lot sweet and very real which is what i like

angst bby

I follow you (deep sea, baby) by emotionalgoblin - sander pines in my mind, in my head by cubedmango - canon divergence for s3 last two episodes

gonna help you be free, honey by lamourestout - aftermath of the hate crime

We're always gonna be contaminated by nbrook - sander fucked upppp and everyone is sad but they communicate so its fine

the night we met by themoongirl - college au, sad boys :(((

show me some stars (beneath this ceiling) by peaceoutofthepieces - five times robbe wishes he could wake up next to sander and one time he does You're always there for me by nbrook - the s4 car accident aftermath (don't want anything) but all of you by MajorAccent - s4 car accident but extra extra angsty i know someone who kisses the way (a flower opens) by romantiser robbe and sander see each other again after sander paints the mural

sander and robbe being so in love it hurts

he is the one by themoongirl - marriage proposal im soft

I'm holding my breath, as the seasons change by bruisingknees - robbe moves out of the flatshare

new year's eve by themoongirl - sander is sad but robbe is soft

all you never say by nothingbutniall - fluffffff

you're the one that i want by themoongirl - sander needs reassurance

dark paradise by luckycharmz - sander is coming out of a low and robbe takes care of him

i was grounded (while you filled the skies) by wafflesofdoom - theyre in love okay

If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance by allforyoumylove - theyre childhood friends and theyre in love

oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight by alsjeblieft - sander painting robbe

Early Morning Dancing by teen_content_queen - flatmates dance in the morning v v cute

(inside my head) I've been at war by nothingbutniall - they're so soft pls

The sun came up and I was looking at you by allforyoumylove

Baby, Home Is In Your Arms by clarecas - robbe comes home to sander after his exam

don't be scared, you are my rock by peaceoutofthepieces - sander is sad but robbe is there purple lips (underwater) by dottori - fluff so much fluff i love it sm

in all your gorgeous colors by nothingbutniall - sander paints robbe you're still the that i love (the only one i dream of) by thekardemomme - i couldve also put this in the angst category but they just love each other so much its so beautiful My darling, I'm rooting for you by allforyoumylove - sander is having a depressive episode and robbe loves him fully formed, ready to run by MajorAccent - sander is down and robbe just wants to be with him paper rings by thekardemomme - they love each other so much and theyre going to get married one day i've always wanted a (boyfriend) by thekardemomme - christmas is sanders favourite holiday and robbe doesnt love christmas but he loves sander Come lie with me by allforyoumylove - they're roommates but they cuddle and fall in love glimpses by foxsake5 - theyre just living their lives, being in love, as they should

boyfriends being boyfriends

I absolutely adore you but we're absolute beginners by nbrook - sander is adorable

boy, i fucking got you by noobishere - yeah its rated e but its so sweet okay

Lovesick by szamsson - sander picks robbe up from school

you're a wonder under summer sky by nothingbutniall - boyfriends go camping

memories painted with much brighter ink by nothingbutniall - Christmas gift giving at the flatshare

we're keeping it simple by noobishere - eenvoud babyyyyy

Meet me in the hallway by nbrook - ahsdka Milan

double date. by fockinglevendcliche - double date with amber and aaron

back to the beach house. by fockinglevendcliche - sander wants to get it on and robbe is weak but their friends are assholes

take me with your constant shame by peaceoutofthepieces - cute date hold me close by sincerelysobbe - robbe is stressed and sander is the best boyfriend you charge me up (like electricity) by howlingsaturn - secret boyfriends if you say swim by soundnvision - another date another pool Modern Love by angelboygabriel - okay yes this is e rated but their. boyfriends and they're happy they're just also horny mkay You make me feel like I am whole again by nbrook - robbe has a rough day but sander is there being all cute and making it better I've been looking so long at these pictures of you by nbrook - much banter very cute You're my favourite kind of night by nbrook - at a halloween party finally kissing the right people Show me a piece of your heart, show me a piece of your love by nbrook - boyfriend tag for the broerrrs channel, unfinished but so much fun thus far working double time by noobishere - sander is wearing a turtleneck and he looks hot in it Ground Control by angelboygabriel - christmas clinging and sex because why not oh and they're in love hopeless romantics by thekardemomme - it's their anniversary and ugh they love each other sm sander driesen versus a mistletoe by dottori - its christmas and sander just wants to fucking kiss robbe okay high for this by flowermaze - sander is drowsy and still finds time to flirt with robbe All You've Got to Do Is Win by berrevy - they actually do play that tennis match years kept in minutes by peaceoutofthepieces - they have traditions and its adorable pls love is the opening door by cryingcancer - robbe and sander facetime on their anniversary after sander was sappy on instagram Home by foxsake5 - sander is a massive simp and robbe looks hot in a robe You don't have to say you're mine by nbrook - robbe is a little insecure and sander is there to reassure him Distracting by sincerelysobbe - v v v cute jahsdjah sander is weak for robbe we all understand bro February 14th, 2021 by foxsake5 - no words bro just cute af if we can make it through december (maybe we'll make it through forever) by nothingbutniall - sobbe at the christmas market This = Love by nbrook - robbe is hungover and sander loves to tease him They ain't living life like this by Createdforyou - halloween but this year they're together

sexy times

Woensdag 16:36 by Anonymous

i don't even wanna fuck, i just like you by eversincewefellapart

Vrijdag 18:26 by Anonymous - hurt and comfort

video phone by tokyometropolis(mesohorany) - quarantine times

Don't know where I'm going from here (but I promise it won't be boring) by skamsnake

snakebite by Anonymous

Zaterdag 09:58 by foxsake5

Wildfire by sincerelysobbe - no smut just kissing but they steamy

come on (mess me up) by MajorAccent - sex but tender 🥺

The Teenage Trifecta by little_but_fierce

i glow pink in the night in my room (blossoming alone over you) by midsummernightoddity

life is a pop of the cherry by icedwhitemocha - the hotel

Ik Win by Anonymous

In his arms tonight by allforyoumylove

long may he reign by tokyometropolis(meohorany) - well considered smut jsdhjhd

Draw Me Closer by skamsnake

When I live my dream (please be there to meet me) by skamsnake

we click, we go boom! by strangeparties Dark Red by nancy_mcfly - friends with benefits play the game of grown-ups by Anonymous - they have a lot of sex but its because they're in love

[shelobussy]

I know you talk abou st*cky in the interracial ships stuff, but can we talk about st*ny? Iron husbands is literally right there, but I also always sees Rhodey as Tonys moral support only. And ik Tony is very shippable with most characters, but the fact his ship is Rhodey is one of the lowest ships in ao3 (ironstrange, winteriron and god forbid stark*r all had more fics in ao3).. It's pretty telling this side also has racism problems...

I'll go ahead and answer this here, but letting y'all know that I do have a marvel sideblog if you want to hit me up there (@themarvelarchives).

Hey, I'm going to ramble for a good minute.

So after I posted my very incoherent, controversial take on St*cky vs SamBucky, there were a ton of ppl who came onto anon saying that St*cky shippers were racist. I think I only answered a few, but y'all were pretty insistent on it. I personally have not observed that St*cky shippers are so I'm not calling anyone out on that side of the fandom for that.

I also did not call out anyone on this side of the fandom bc that's not what my meta was about. I think I mentioned maybe once or twice in the whole post that there was underlying racist in the fandom, but since you asked, we can talk about it here.

Covert Bigotry In Fandom Spaces.

To understand what's going on in the MCU, we have to first look at what I call "woke-queer" fandom.

So "Woke-Queer" Spaces is the phenomenon where certain fandom members like to call ppl out on their bigotry, while covertly harboring their own queerphobia/racism/etc. An example of this that we're all familiar with is TERFS and how they like to claim that they are progressive and woke, while also claiming that trans women are fake and trans men are sexist.

How this translates to fandom, however, is the hypocrisy that is cancellation and callout culture.

For example, Supernatural in particular is a fandom that likes to call out the writers on their homophobia and racism, and yet, somehow, the fandom is chalk full of homophobia and racism. If you want to read more about this, here is a truly excellent article from the perspective of a queer woman of color.

Moving on, I've also talked in a previous meta post, on the internalized acephobia that exploded in 2019 after Good Omens was released. Rather than reiterate everything I said in that post, I'll just leave it at this: the controversy in the Good Omens fandom can be summed up by the fact that queer audiences are claiming that Ineffable Husbands is the wrong kind of queer. The hypocrisy oozes off the screen, doesn't it?

A final way this viably translates to fandom, is in how the Doctor Who fandom evolved over time.

So Steven Moffat takes over as head writer and showrunner in 2010. It's a new series, a new Doctor, a new Tardis, and new branding. He steps up the action, changes the color grating, and raises the stakes. Women are sexier, the Doctor is smarter (and more of an asshole, but that's another meta post), and every companion comes with their own impossible mystery that makes them Special™.

Series 5-10 got tons of woke points for having lesbian characters, an episode where the Doctor is homoerotic with James Corden, and an underlying trans narrative with the Master's reincarnation. What a lot of people forget, however, is that his series was incredibly sexiest, incredibly lesbian/biphobic, and basically turned the Doctor into everyone's fantasy sex-object.

This, unfortunately, brought out the worst of the fandom. There was RTD Era vs Moffat Era wars exploding in certain corners, TenxRose shippers vs ElevenxRiver shippers.

What does this have to do with covert racism in fandom cultures though?

Hnnngng ok, so back in RTD era's we get Martha Jones, the Actual Best Companion On The Entire Show. Except for the fact, of course, that she is written to be in love with the doctor. She's a brilliant character--smart, sassy, flawed, funny, flirtatious--and her entire plotline is reduced down to a school-girl crush on a white man.

She doesn't do well with fans, they scrap her after one season.

We move on to Donna Noble (The Other Actual Best Companion On The Entire Show) and RTD's era ends with them scraping her too and regenerating David Tennant's Doctor.

It will be five more series (not seasons, SERIES) until Doctor Who will have another black companion--who gets extra points for being gay--only to fall victim to "bury your gays" at the end of the season (but not really bc no one stays dead on Doctor Who).

The fandom's reception of Martha Jones was historically bad. The comparisons to her predecessor, Rose Tyler, were rampant and everyone was finding a reason to hate her.

The fandom's reception to Bill Potts was also historically bad, as everyone was screaming that she was being written for more "woke points" and that they wanted Clara back.

Fandom has a historically bad reputation of being problematic and, I would argue, the majority of it has to do with these toxic undertones of bigotry that slip under the radar. "Woke-queer" spaces, as I call them, are these instances above where spaces that claim to be inclusive of gender/orientation/race are covertly bigoted.

Marvel and Cancelling

Now is an excellent time to talk about the MCU.

Anthony Mackie (Sam Wilson) has recently come under a lot of criticism from fandom members for shutting down shipper speculation.

"The idea of two guys being friends and loving each other in 2021 is a problem because of the exploitation of homosexuality. [...] something as pure and beautiful as homosexuality has been exploited by people who are trying to rationalize themselves."

I can't find the rest of the quote, but Mackie goes on further to say that it was important to him to portray "a sensitive, masculine figure" without insinuating that there was romance involved.

Woke culture lost it's shit. Everyone was suddenly claiming that Mackie was calling them exploitative for shipping a gay ship as a queer audience, which could not have been further from the case.

Mackie actually makes some very excellent points in that sensitivity is not gay/queer. Woke culture loves to rag on Toxic Masculinity, but the minute someone plays a character who is loving and sensitive with no queer narrative in mind, they are immediately canceled.

What Am I On About

Okay, let's actually address what your ask was about, Nonnie. You pointed out--rather truthfully--that it is unfair to call-out racism on one side of the fandom, while ignoring it on the other side.

Well, I've gone back through my St*cky vs. SamBucky analysis (which is incoherent at best, I apologize for that) and I see maybe once instance where I called out fandom members for being racist. Here's what I had to say about racism:

"[...] Iron Husbands is a rarepair, probably because it’s an interracial ship."

"[there is] nothing wrong with shipping two white men, but it does become a problem when you ignore/bash POC/interracial ships to the determinant of your own white ship."

And then there was the post you brought up where I addressed interracial ships in the fandom. That one is probably more relevant to this topic, to be honest, as I actually addressed fandom racism there. I assume that your reason for bringing up Stony is because it's a ship that is more relevant to my side of the fandom, HOWEVER, the reason I highlighted Stucky instead was because I was comparing the fact that they've both been around the same amount of time and are relationships that feature the protagonist and their best friend.

You brought up St*ny in the ask, however, so I'm going to talk about St*ny for a minute.

As someone who never has nor will ship St*ny, it never even occurred to me that some of the problem behind the Iron Husbands tag being so small is because everyone ships the white, boring ship. You brought up a very valid point, but because I was never in that part of the fandom, I can't really speak to any possible underlying racism there, besides what I've already said above.

I would be interested in hearing a St*ony shipper or ex-St*ony shippers thought on this, but sadly I don't know any. If you have any more thoughts regarding this, Nonnie, pls drop back into my inbox.

You do make some excellent points in this ask though, and I would like to talk about racism on my side of the fandom.

So back to Mackie and his Twitter cancellation. Notice that Disney made him address the rumors and not his co-star, Sebastian Stan. Anthony Mackie is put on blast and made to answer fan demands and receives backlash, while Sebastian Stan gets to fly under the rader. This is not, by the way, a criticism of Stan, but instead of the blatant racism Disney has been displaying over the past few years.

How this ties in with the rest of my post has to do with my "woke-queer" spaces bit. The outcry across the MCU fandom over Mackie was swift and unforgiving. He was cancelled on charges of homophobia and bigotry--all the while these same fans turn a blind eye to any queer interpretation of other interracial ships and discourse in their own fandom.

The racism that I'm speaking about, of course, is an almost passive racism. Of course if you don't ship a specific ship for reasons other than their race, it's perfectly fine. It's okay not to ship Iron Husbands or SamBucky or any other interracial fandom ships. However, the distinct lack of shippers in the fandom IS telling because there are people who would ship that exact ship if not for the fact that one of men is black.

I don't have much more to say about this except to thank you for bringing it up and for listening to my long rambling post.

(Feel free to bug me about Tony Stark, MCU ships, MCU Meta and anything you want to talk me about on this blog and @themarvelarchives.)

[suntrastar]

sink or swim

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

summary: you first meet ransom when meg drags you along to a party. everything somehow spirals from there.

warnings: swearing, smut (but like very vague smut, nothing super explicit), ransom’s general assholery

word count: 9.3k

author’s note: i hate ransom drysdale! he is a shit character! if he existed irl i would whoop his ass with NO hesitation. but i still wrote this fic because ... a bitch gets thirsty okay?? okay. and ik this is very long BUT a lot of it is dialogue so it should flow pretty fast!!! likes and reblogs are always appreciated!!! ily now enjoy!!! you can also read this on ao3 :)

There’s something fun about being somewhere where no one wants you, and then something shameful. 

Meg isn’t touching you, but as she drags you around her famous grandfather’s mansion in search of people to bother, it feels like she has you on an invisible leash, fastened tight over your neck. To keep you tethered to her- like a fucking dog. 

The leash hurts like it is not made of plastic or metal but instead two hands squeezing tight, wringing you dry, choking you harder and harder and bruising you purple with no remorse.

Now, she’s debating political theory with her douchebag fuck of an uncle, who almost hits you once- almost hits you twice with his cane while waving it around as he quotes Fox News-

Their voices rise. You’re the only one that flinches.

Standing awkwardly on the edge, you wonder why you are the only guest at this terrible party that looks so lost. Meg gives you a covert this-is-total-bullshit glance, and a small, pained, rehearsed smile, both of which you have to return- that’s the real reason you’re here, after all- and her uncle rants on, wholly oblivious.

You look past them both, to where one man stands by himself.

He’s leaning against the far wall, and while Meg retaliates with some of her favorite words, including audacity and bigoted and problematic, you take a sudden, intense interest in the wallpaper pattern, sweeping your eyes over the span of it, looking over the man just once.

He is staring right back at you.

All it takes is his eyes- he’s just staring, but you’re absolutely embarrassed. 

He looks rich, with too much product in his hair and a coat that looks like it cost more than your rent, with loafers that expose an uncomfortable amount of ankle and an expression that morphs into something wolfish as he starts towards you-

Before you can think, he’s joined your little circle- Meg prefers standing, so of course, everyone stands- and smiles when she glares at him. 

He isn’t looking at you anymore.

“So,” he interrupts, and his voice is so dark, “what riveting political topic are we debating tonight?”

You should call an Uber. Why did you accept Meg’s offer of a ride?

“Ransom,” Meg says sweetly, “could you just, like, fucking not?”

This is supposed to be a Christmas party, but none of these people seem to be in the Christmas spirit. Including her uncle, with his stuffy sweater set and clunky-as-hell shoes. He sputters something about young people and their profanity, and then hastily leaves. 

Without thinking, you breathe out a heavy sigh of relief. 

The man smiles wider. Unfortunately, it makes him look very handsome.

”Ouch,” he says lightly, to Meg, and turns to you.

A shiver runs down your spine. 

You hate him immediately. 

“Who are you?” he asks.

For whatever reason, the question makes Meg scoff. She shakes her head at you- a warning. Her hair flounces with the movement.

Because she doesn’t want you to, you give him your name. And then add, because your name alone seems like a title too stripped down, “I’m Meg’s friend.”

It’s hard to convince yourself to be polite, when you don’t like how he’s been looking at you- with his eyes narrowed and brown furrowed and lips parted. He gives an insufferable nod.

“Right,” he says. “The one she’s been showing off all evening.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“Ransom-” Meg starts, and suddenly you are so angry, at this man for confirming what you thought was all in your head, at Meg for suddenly swooping in to save you, like she’s been waiting for it-

“I guess,” you say, and smile a little, and regret everything.

“That’s pathetic,” he says, and looks at you kindly.

 Apparently, Meg is the only one allowed to be self-righteous in her annoyance, or anger, or any other mildly passionate emotion. She doesn’t return your covert this-is-total-bullshit glance. 

So you fend for yourself.

“Well, so is this fucking party, so-”

He interrupts you with a laugh. 

It’s loud and arrogant and mirthless, and you’ll climb out of a window, find a way to walk through the walls, if it means that you’ll escape it.

“I’m just joking,” he says, pursing his lips, and the hands on your neck, ever-present, nearly crush the breath out of you. “Don’t get your panties all in a twist.”

“So funny I forgot to laugh,” you say, and instead of replying, he just looks at you.

He looks at you slowly, like he has nothing better to do, like he has time to waste. You can smell him- some cologne that’s spicy, and expensive, and Meg is staring at you in shock, like you’ve committed a crime. 

But she’s quiet.

“I’m Ransom,” he says, and raises his hands to make little air quotes, which is weirdly adorable in a way that you hate, “Meg’s ‘asshole cousin’”

“Weird name,” you say. 

You’ve changed your mind- you’re not even going to attempt to be nice.

For a second, he looks furious.

It’s attractive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Anyways, I’m about to ditch. Do you want a ride?”

How does he know you came here with Meg?

He was staring at you from the wall-

From his butterscotch-colored coat with its awful, ostensible lapels, he pulls out his car keys. The BMW logo flashes silver and blue, clashing against the gold of his pinky ring, clinking against the metal as he twirls the key ring around his finger-

For a second, you think that he’s about to toss the keys across the room and command you to fetch.

“Um,” you say, uncertainly, irritated with your own restraint, “Thanks, but Meg will-”

“Meg will what?”

He’s mocking you, and there is no one to come to your rescue. 

Hesitantly, like she has to think twice about it, Meg opens her mouth to say something. What is her problem? What is your problem? Why are you treating her like she is your saving grace? 

You talk before she gets the chance. “Okay, yeah. A ride would be great.”

***

Ransom offers because he likes your face.

You’re better-looking than the girls that Meg usually brings along to these parties, or maybe his standards have fallen- he isn't sure. Does it really matter? Even though he’s been looking at you all night, even though he’s positively thrilled to have you in his car, he’s not going to try anything.

There’s something desperate in your eyes that compels him against it.

You inhale sharply when he turns left. 

“You forgot your turn signal,” you say, and he kind of likes how you chastise him, not angrily or even upset, but just exasperated-

How is someone like you friends with someone like Meg?

“Don’t worry about it,” he says lightly, and the tired glare you give him is enough to make his entire week.

Now that he thinks about it, his mother is always on his case about things like this- compassion and civility and basic human decency, and how he lacks it all, but what about now? He’s taking a miserable girl to her home, simply from the goodness of his own heart, with no strings attached. 

This is such a good deed- this is like charity.

His mother is also always telling him that he’s severely, almost clinically narcissistic.

He definitely is, but again, does it matter?

“So, what do you think about my family?” he asks, making a big, dramatic show of using his turn signal before swerving right, feeling too pleased when you smile. 

He steals a glance at your knees and somehow feels guilty.

He’ll have to do something about that.

“They’re pretty... lively,” you say hesitantly, and he’s suddenly hating the dark, this stupid fucking night- he’d like to see you better.

“Lively,” he repeats, and barks out a laugh. “They’re fucking crazy.”

You laugh, too, a real one- off-kilter, and too loud- none of that artificial shit he heard at the party. Nothing meant to please.

“I was definitely thinking that,” you say. He catches you looking at his hands, but boldly, you don’t look away. “I just didn’t want to be rude.”

“Now you’re worried about being rude?”

“I’m in a car with a strange guy I’ve never met before, so yeah.”

You’re smiling but look uncomfortable, and then afraid.

All bark and no bite- you’ve been talking all this talk, when really, he realizes, you’re so washed-out, so faint, like the bare sliver of moon out in the sky, the same weak moon he’s been cursing out. The same stars, too- you are just as scattered.

You look pretty.

“Are you scared?”

He keeps his eyes on the road because he thinks you’ll snap at him if he doesn’t. Not like anyone drives out here anyway- not like he can’t pay off a ticket or two or five-

“Should I be?”

There is something so delicious about this moment, with you starting to worry- he can’t look at the road anymore, not when he can watch your throat bob as you swallow instead, and it still feels so violating, but so good. 

“Nope,” he says, and you startle when you hear him say it, and he has to bite his cheek to keep himself from smiling. “No need.”

“Great,” you say, and go quiet. 

When he pulls up to your apartment complex, not too far from where he lives, he holds his mouth in check. He could say so many things right now, but for you, he restrains himself.

You have your bag in hand, seatbelt off. From the streetlight, the planes of your face look waxy yellow.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say. 

Your hand is on the door handle, nails glittering. He can’t make out the color of the polish.

While looking at it, a sudden urge overcomes him.

And he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but he wants to, so bad. It’s borderline frantic, the desire- it’s necessary and all-important and crucial, for him and his basic peace of mind, and maybe for you, too-

Who is he to deny himself?

“Wait,” he says, even though the door is open and you have half of yourself out the door. 

The cold is slowly seeping in, bone-chilling.

You wait.

“Let me just,” he says, and can’t bring himself to say anything else.

He reaches out for your waxen face with one hand and presses it firmly against your cheek.

Under his touch, you shiver. He fans out his fingers to hold you better. 

Your eyes are wide. He thinks you look a bit horrified- horrified with yourself for not resisting, maybe.

But he closes his eyes as he leans in, so it doesn’t matter.

He turns your head for you, a bit forcefully. You don’t protest.

He kisses your cheek.

When he pulls back and opens his eyes, you’re staring at him with your mouth in a perfect circle.

“Uh,” you say, and suddenly look away and out into the night, and it makes him angry, even though it should be flattering, “Merry Christmas.”

*** 

You don’t think about Ransom as much as he probably would have wanted- life picks up too fast.

In the last days of the year, Meg calls you and texts you and even goes so far as to send a few emails, but finally, you seem to have found the self-respect to not respond- consider that ridiculously wealthy bridge burned. 

In January, your brother leaves to study for a semester abroad. All the walls in your small apartment are suddenly looming, standing high over you, standing empty. You try to shove off the loneliness by studying harder, by staying distracted.

In February, you have the same dream nearly every night- you’re sitting outside on a porch in the sun and for some reason there’s a bird on your head, and in your lap there’s a clock whose hands don’t work, and you’re wearing a heavy necklace made of gold links that jingle, and you’re so happy. 

Does the bird count as company?

In early March, while you’re watering your plants, your phone rings with an unknown number. 

You shouldn’t pick up unknown numbers.

You pick up.

“Hello?”

“Remember me?” 

His voice nearly gives you whiplash.

It’s dark and harsh, faceless and yet as arrogant as ever. 

“Hi, Ransom,” you say, and think of the night in the car for the first time since, think of how he gripped your face so hard that his ring left an imprint. “How the hell do you have my number?”

“Meg gave it to me,” he says smugly. “She says hi.”

You wonder what Meg thinks you did to her. It’s obviously something bad, something terrible, if she so willingly gave your number to this pretty-faced, pretty-voiced, ugly-coat-wearing asshole-

“Awesome,” you say plainly. You don’t want to talk about her. “Do you, like, need something, or-”

“I want to take you out,” he says.

You laugh and your grip on your pitcher slips, sloshing water over the edge.

“You’re joking.”

He is, right? 

He takes an impatient breath that, for some reason, sounds inappropriate. “I’m serious.”

“Ransom,” you say, slowly, “I don’t even know you.”

“Then get to know me,” he says testily, and you can perfectly picture him, sitting in some colossal brownstone his parents bought him, while a butler daintily dabs the sweat from his brow with an embroidered handkerchief. “Tonight.”

You’ve overwatered your marigolds. 

Has his voice really swept you this far away?

“No,” you say, and shake your head, even though he can’t see it. “No fucking way.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, like you’re the one being unreasonable. “You have anything better to do?”

You don’t, but you take a deep breath and prepare yourself to lie-

“I’ll treat you good,” he suddenly says, and his voice is low and sticky-sweet, dripping with honey. “I promise.”

He says it in a way that makes your knees weak.

You physically have to sit down- he knows how to get what he wants.

Could you actually do this?

Could you go out on a date with a crude, pretentious, trust-fund piece of trash, who probably thinks you’re easy, who’s only calling you because he’s bored, who has already subtly insulted you twice in this conversation alone-

-who got your number from his cousin that you both decidedly dislike, who kissed your cheek like you were pretty in the dark of the night, in his cold car?

“Fine,” you say. “Take me out.”

***

He doesn’t tell you that you look nice- he just stares.

There is something predatory in his eyes.

You’re out on a Wednesday night with a bad man, wasting your time, trying to get something out of nothing, smiling a fake smile when he orders you a drink you don’t like, already irritated with him, and trying too hard to stop looking at his face.

How are you actually interested?

You tell him that you’re in medical school.

“Really,” he says, like he doesn’t believe you. “You don’t strike me as that kind of girl.”

Underneath the table, you clench your hands for some sense of control, but still feel like you’re spinning. “What kind of girl?”

“Smart,” he says, and picks up his drink. The glass sweats beads of condensation, wetting the tips of his fingers. “I didn’t know you were smart.”

You shouldn’t dignify his flimsy insult with a response- he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, trying to make you roll your eyes or scowl or shiver. He wants you unsettled. 

But the moral high ground is, unfortunately, too high.

“And I didn’t know that you’re such a terrible date.”

His teeth gleam white when he smiles. He knows.

He knows that he can say whatever the hell he wants, because he has money, and those eyes, and that insufferably nice rich-boy hair, and that sweater with its charmingly frayed hems, and that voice- he has everything, and then some, and he’s about to have you, too, if he keeps on looking at you like he already does.

“You’re so sweet,” he says. 

“Fuck off.”

He winks and you could cry, you’re so fucking bothered-

You’re not usually this uptight, but he has you so drastically wound up that every little thing he does, even how he’s sitting- body sprawled, manspreading- is fire licking up on your skin, scorching-hot and ruining you with no remorse, like you have done something to deserve it.

When his eyes trail down, from your eyes to your mouth to your neck to below, you are so acutely aware of wanting him that you feel guilty. Like it’s a crime.

***

You don’t seem like the type of girl to fuck on the first date. 

So, of course, Ransom tries to fuck on the first date.

As you stand outside the restaurant, in your dress and strappy sandals, you look so tense that he wants to laugh.

 He can’t help it, because this whole thing you have going on- this weariness you approach everything with, this attitude- is so funny. Maybe, in any other situation, it would be irritating, but he’s been so bored lately that it’s stirring.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” he asks, quietly, taking a step closer to you so that at this very moment, under the waning sun, you should be able to just lean up and kiss him-

You blink slowly and keep your silence.

This is fucking tedious.

This should be so easy- all he has to do is settle his hands somewhere soft and let time pass, and then before he knows it you’re there and under and begging. But he can’t bring himself to touch you just yet, not when his head is calling you pathetic, and his heart calls you-

His heart just calls you.

You start to answer, and then hesitate. All five stages of grief flicker over your face at once- denial to acceptance in the same breath. 

“Sure,” you say, unevenly, desperately-

When you step inside his house, your eyes go wide. As you take it in- the decor, the windows, the excess, he locks the door behind him and takes you in.

You step further inside, and he thinks of where it would be best, but then your eyes crease as you smile- it’s impossible to wait when your smile looks like that- and so he backs you right into the closest wall, cups your face with both of his hands and kisses you.

He kisses you and you curl your hands over his shoulders and immediately kiss back, and he is taken aback and delighted. 

And he knew- the entire time at dinner when you were making eyes at him like you couldn’t believe that you were actually sitting there, present in that moment- he knew that secretly, you’re a freak. He knew it- he knows it.

He hopes it.

“Let me fuck you,” he whispers, right into your mouth, when your heart has been beating right into his for a while, “Let me fuck you right here.”

You bite his lip.

He takes a hand away from your face and reaches under your dress fast, rucking it all the way up your thighs, trailing up to touch you-

“Fuck,” you gasp, and arch your back up against the wall, and he grips you a little tighter-

He presses a finger into you- pushing aside your underwear and, good grief, you’re already wet- harshly, and pulls away from your mouth, so he can watch your face. 

The lines creasing your forehead look like poetry.

He thinks he likes you. It’s a shame he had to meet you through Meg- it would be nice if he had met you somewhere else, on his own. 

That way, he’d be able to waltz in one day, to another insipid family gathering, with you tucked under his arm. You, with your promise of a medical degree and your strappy sandals, and your iron grip on his shoulders and your drawn out breath of a moan-

The looks on their faces would be priceless.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, and he’s a little irritated at how cracked his voice sounds, but it’s the right thing to say- you swear again and he picks up his pace, pressing hard on your clit. “If you’ll be good to me.”

“I’ll-” you say, and you’re actually stuttering, and breaking out into a lovely sweat, still forced back into the wall with his hand and body. He leans closer, so he can’t tell where you and him and the wall start and end. “I’ll be- fuck, Ransom-”

You still have your arms wrapped around him, like an embrace. He keeps one hand between your thighs, your dress pooling over his arm like water, and uses his other to work at his belt buckle.

This is also funny- you stay exactly how you are, even though at that moment, there is nothing holding you back.

***

The world is begging for you to consider your actions.

But you don’t. You know that when he offers, you’ll meet him again.

It should be too late. You’re exhausted, from a day full of lectures and an evening spent in a lab, working as a professor’s research assistant, and then studying for a few hours in the library- all you really want to do is sleep. 

But then he calls.

The night is suddenly brimming with possibility, and you’ve never been more awake.

On a whim, Ransom suggests ice cream, and because you can’t bring yourself to deny him, you end up at a place that you would never go for- where everything is handmade and served in thick paper cups with multicolored plastic spoons, but he pays, because of his stupid ego or fragile masculinity or whatever the hell, so you don’t care.

He stands next to you as you order, and his shoulder keeps on brushing into yours. You can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not. In the glass shield that the tubs of ice cream sit behind, you’re both reflected, your body warped and tall, his body warped and taller. In the glass, his eyes meet yours.

The tension is strong- it’s only a matter of time.

Your heart flutters.

When you sit, he bumps his knees against yours- you’re sure it’s on purpose, now, but you don’t say anything. What even is there to say? 

That you like it? 

When he digs into his ice cream, the plastic spoon- a green one- snaps in his hand.

 And because you’re so caught up in your own ridiculous thoughts, before he can go back up to get another, you pull your own from your mouth- a pink one- and offer it to him.

The proposition makes him smile.

Why does he smile like that? Each movement, each twitch of muscle is so perfectly detached and coordinated- it’s violent. 

But he still takes the spoon from you gently, with a soft hand. 

He’s too pretty to be mean, you think, but against any type of judgement- not just the better kind- you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You let yourself laugh and he scowls. 

“This place sucks,” he says, like he isn’t the one who chose it.

He adjusts the womens’ scarf he’s always wearing, carefully arranging it over himself so it looks like it was carelessly thrown on. The blue in the paisley print brings out his eyes- it makes him look so stupidly hot that you start to get angry.

You just shrug. “Suck it up, buttercup.”

He puts your spoon in his mouth and looks at you.

Again, the night ends at his place- this time on an actual bed, because you ask for it, and you think he likes how you look when you ask for things in the current state state you’re in-

He fucks you in the dark, and swears into your ear, and is not kind or soft in any way, but after he finishes, he takes the time to kiss the spot in between your breasts, and you think that maybe he isn’t entirely horrible. The bedsheets are cool against your skin, and his mouth is always hot.

You leave without a word.

***

He takes you out this time, in a real, urgent show of wealth- he picks you up in his fancy car, takes you to a fancy restaurant where the numbers next to the fancy menu items are all appalling, where he spends the whole time making these awful, unfunny innuendos that still manage to rile you up, because they’re coming from his mouth-

On the way back, while waiting at a stoplight, you take a deep breath and brace yourself before looking at him.

He really is gorgeous- all lazy grace and harsh angles. The light colors his face red, red in his eyes and in the plane of his cheekbone and in the slope of his mouth- like a beautiful warning sign. His hands are carelessly draped over the steering wheel and, despite the warning, you reach out and trace a finger over his knuckles. 

His whole body jerks.

You quickly draw your hand back.

“What?” he asks sharply. He’s staring at you like you’re crazy.

You don’t know why this is suddenly so fucking embarrassing, all you did was touch him- but you suddenly feel terrible, and-

“Nothing,” you say, with the same tone, and whip your head away from him to the window, where you smolder in the dark and furiously stare at nothing.

The light turns green. He takes his foot off the break and all but slams it on the gas pedal, driving as atrociously as ever, looking over at you for a split second when you don’t protest. The blood rushing in your ears is too loud for you to think- you can’t form any words.

Once it subsides, marginally, you add, “Sorry.”

His jaw tenses.

You look back over at him, at his ring, and imagine it pressing into your neck.

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” he suddenly asks- suddenly demands, with a blazing authority that makes your stomach do flips.

You don’t know what answer he wants. “Um, one time I snuck out of-“

“Let’s do something crazier.”

On an abandoned road, he pulls over, and then you’re under him in the backseat- doing something crazier. 

You might have some type of psychic tendencies, because his ring presses heavy into your neck as he pushes himself inside you, starting at a bruising pace, and then he says your name in the dark, and he looks so beautifully flushed, startling when you grab his hair, laughing when your hand accidentally skims his thigh, smiling when you come-

You wish you had the resolve to put an end to this.

You wish you could stay when it’s over.

***

You don’t like his house.

It’s not the brownstone you imagined, but rather a huge, minimalistic box, with too many windows and spotless paint and modern wood fixtures. Ransom has all of these customary rich-person things, including stately furniture and eclectic art pieces and tall shelves stuffed with books, but owning any actual personality has escaped him.

Standing in his house feels like standing in an empty room- it’s all so apathetic.

Still, you show up when he calls.

You haven’t done anything this bad before. 

But there’s a first time for everything, right? First time for enjoying bruises and biting and an unwavering grip on your neck or hips or waist or thighs, first time leaving something so intense so awkwardly.

Each time is worse than the last, with the awkwardness spiraling, accruing beyond reason, and each time you struggle with what to say- even now, you just do your best to stay quiet as you start to get up, reaching for your clothes-

Ransom drapes a heavy arm over you before you have the chance.

“You can stay,” he says flippantly, and then shifts to pull you close to him, so that you are suddenly lying bare-backed against his chest, so that his sweat-slick body and heartbeat imprints itself on your skin.

Is he asking?

You crane your head over your shoulder to get a look at him.

He returns your stare like he’s been waiting for it. 

His face is still flushed pink and a lock of hair hangs low over his forehead, and if you were any braver, you would comb a hand through it, gently, with no real intentions. He’s breathtaking. Even the new, foreign purple under his eyes is a sight- pretty like something you would want to kiss.

“You want me to stay?”

He rolls his eyes and tilts his head back. You would lick the sweat from the divots of his neck, if he asked you to.

“Or leave, if you want. I could care less.”

He cares

You know it because his grip is unwavering, because the terseness in his eyes is enough to make you look away.

Eventually, you settle a hand over his arm and try your best not to tremble. Ransom mumbles something under your breath- you can’t make any of it out, but you don’t ask him to repeat it, for the fear that it’ll upset this fragile bedroom balance you’ve so painstakingly built yourself into-

He wants you to stay. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, because you don’t think he is.

He inhales. You feel his chest against you; it’s shaky. You wonder, for a second, about who he might actually be, underneath the arrogance and egotism and constant need to be an asshole- is he someone you could like without feeling bad about it?

“Yeah,” he says, and throws his other arm over you, so that he is holding you. “Why?”

There isn’t a genuine bone in this man’s body, but he genuinely sounds confused.

It’s possible that you’re the one who isn’t okay.

“Because,” you say, and take a great leap of faith- holding your bare heart in your hands, you turn to face him.

You’re fully exposed and subjected to his gaze- it’s nearly eviscerating. His eyes dip down to your chest and something like insecurity flares in your chest. It’s awful and terrible and you urgently want to kiss him on the lips.

He always kisses you first. You don’t know if you have it in you to kiss him yet. 

You wouldn’t ever try, in case you don’t.

“You look kind of tired,” you say, and his eyes bore into you with a sinking weight, threatening to drown. One of his hands finds a blooming bruise on your skin and lightly presses. He doesn’t react when you wince. The action is still kind- almost tender.

He sighs, and it is such a delicate breath, fanning hot over your skin. 

“I’m not tired,” he says, almost childishly.

You might be overstepping. But you don’t even know where the lines have been drawn. 

“Okay,” you say, and because you would not dare kiss his lips, you lean close and kiss his jaw instead.

He startles and then gives you a crooked, lazy smile. He is everything good, you think- for this one moment. Pretty and soft-handed and made of glass and honey and all other lovely things.

You tuck your head in the crook of his neck and wrap an arm over his, tight, so he knows you are there, and hope for the best.

***

In your spare moments, you’re always thinking.

Ransom knows this because of how you look when you do it- your brow furrows and your eyes go glassy, and you frown with an intensity that he has never seen on anyone else.

It happens when you finish a sentence, when you have no response for him, when he is still talking but you’ve stopped listening. When you think it’s quiet.

It never happens during sex- is it pathetic to take pride in that?

As he stands in your apartment for the first time ever, you look like you’re in near-despair, like your thoughts are wreaking havoc on your mind, destructive and distressing. You wear basketball shorts and a college sweatshirt and glasses.

He didn’t know you wore glasses, and that you looked like this in them- he’s been missing out.

“Hi,” you say, and stare at him with troubled eyes.

Your apartment is so small. He almost feels claustrophobic, standing in here. When was the last time he willingly stood somewhere so small?

The lengths he’ll go to, for… 

For you, he supposes.

“Hi,” he says, and wonders, also for the first time ever, what it is that you’re always thinking. “Why do you have so many plants?”

On the windowsill, with even spacing in between, sits an entire row of glass jars housing plants- all singular flower stems, some budding, some in bloom. The petals of a marigold brush against the window, orange against the grey outside. It’s cute, he absently thinks, in a struggling, shabby type of way.

“It’s just something I do for fun,” you say, sounding irritated. “Like, a hobby.” 

Infringing on the living room space is a small table, cluttered with textbooks and pens and an open laptop with its screen dark.

It still baffles him that you’re smart.

“So,” you start, and cross your arms over your chest. He feels kind of offended, because he’s just realized that he really only knows a handful of things about you, and even that handful is sparse, slipping through his fingers. “Why’d you want to see me?”

He called on impulse. 

He’s just- he’s in what someone could call a mood, where he hates everything and has the intense desire to ruin something, and while he was thinking of how to fix it- beyond just getting wasted- he thought of you.

And when he called, you were sounding so tired and so he even said he could just meet you here, so you wouldn’t have to drive, so you could squeeze in a few more minutes of studying before he inevitably invades your mind-

Easily, he deflects. Nearby, there’s a hallway with two doors, one of which is tightly closed shut.

“What’s in there?” he asks, and points towards it.

You relax, slightly.

He wants to gather you up in his arms, but he doesn’t know for whose sake- his or yours?

“That’s my brother’s room,” you say, and your shoulders slump, and he resists the urge to pull you upright, and the urge to gawk. Brother? “He lives with me. But he’s studying abroad this semester.”

“Where?”

“Prague.”

He nods. This is a stiff, perfect, shocking distraction. “Nice city.”

You nod distantly and head back to the table to put your things away.

“Yeah,” you say, after too long of a pause, as you start to cap pens and set them aside. You look at him as you do it, and so you miss a few times, accidentally drawing dark lines of ink all over your fingers. “I’m glad he got to go. When we were kids, he was obsessed with wanting to travel- he had this entire map in our room, and he would draw stars over every country he wanted to visit, and there were, like, a hundred of them, and he could list every single one, in the exact order he wanted to visit, and he could even list the capitals- I’m sorry. You probably don’t care about any of this.”

He doesn’t.

Or, he shouldn’t, but your eyes are clearer, and as you neatly stack your textbooks in an order only known to you, he is almost intrigued.

He’s longing for you- when you are right there.

He feels like a person outside of himself, when you look at him and smile tiredly.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

There’s a cheesy ‘90s horror movie you find after a few minutes of channel surfing, complete with terrible special effects and edited-out profanity. The days are longer, now, and to stop the sun from casting a glare over the screen, you close all the blinds. It adds to the atmosphere, you say lightly, fully phased out of whatever just possessed you, and his hands are so itchy- itching to do something.

He sits. Patience is a virtue, but he is not virtuous, and so when you sit next to him and bring your knees to your chest, making yourself small, he goes to-

Something in his stomach stops him. 

It’s butterflies- is he actually nervous?

This is so fucking infuriating.

You’ve got him trapped in some type of pain-and-power-play, some type of unassuming purgatory, and all he can bring himself to do is lightly brush a hand against your shoulder. You smile at his touch and his heart fucking breaks.

As the second boy in the friend group gets murdered onscreen, you close your eyes and duck your head into your knees.

“Tell me when it’s over,” you say, voice muffled.

“Scaredy-cat,” he says, even though this is no time for jokes. 

You crack one eye open, looking only at him, and give him the finger.

Come here, he almost demands. The butterflies protest- he holds his tongue.

The dance continues. When the sun sets, everything darkens, settling into a dim blue. You look like something out of a painting. Faintly sad, unusually serene. The skin around your eyes has smoothened- you’ve stopped thinking so hard and he can suddenly breathe easier because of it-

And then there’s a jumpscare, and he shouts, “Jesus!”

The murderer has broken down a door, and all of the remaining characters are screaming, and you burst out laughing.

He’s in the middle of a crisis, and you’re laughing.

You lean into him as you laugh, with your head turned away from the screen and your eyes open, looking at him so fondly that he suddenly feels violated, and you let your shoulder brush against his.

“Scaredy-cat” you tease, and it’s absolutely now or never-

You’re making him weak- it takes too much time and effort for him to draw an arm over you.

You don’t flinch, but he is sure that you can hear his heart beating dangerously fast, without abandon, like it's trying to break free of his ribcage. He almost gasps when you come even closer and lightly kiss his cheek, wrapping your arms around him, and his head is just saying yes yes yes-

Your mouth goes over his ear, lips ghosting over skin. He waits, more scared than he’s ever been in his entire life, for what you have to say. 

***

So this is Ransom’s deep, dark, ugly secret.

He likes to be cuddled.

If it were anyone else, you would laugh.

But it’s Ransom, and so you just take it in stride, as part of his extremely fucked-up psyche that is probably a result of a hundred things he’ll never tell you- childhood trauma and neglect and the consequences that come with having more money than you need or deserve.

He’s always talking, always talking shit, always talking over you and over everyone else, and you realize, one day, that he really only is treading water- he’s only focused on staying afloat, speaking whatever he wants, but never actually saying anything.

He’s responsible for his faults, of course. But still, when he smiles in low light or curls his hands over yours so viciously, you don’t know if you should leave, or if you should just stay and pity him quietly.

You’re starting to like him too much to even care.

He starts coming around more. And he actually stays, and starts leaving pieces of himself behind. He has a toothbrush next to yours and a phone charger on his side of the bed and imported, undoubtedly expensive snacks in the kitchen.

He leaves clothes, too- you wash them with yours and keep them, neatly folded, in your closet.

On a warm day in May, he meets you at a cafe.

He does most of the talking, like always. It’s been months, already, but you still find it difficult to start conversations.

You still have trouble telling him certain things without feeling like you have to defend yourself, and he still rarely deviates from being a total dick, even when you hold him or have his head in your lap, when you make him laugh or when you kiss him.

Or when you put your hands in the sleeves of his sweaters and rub your palms against his forearms, because he’s always running warm and your hands are always cold. 

He always acts like it annoys him, jumps when your hands meet his skin- but you know he secretly likes it, because whenever you’re done he pulls the hems all the way over his hands and looks at you with something amazed in his eyes.

With the weather warming up, he’s ditched the sweaters and taken to wearing these awful fucking short-sleeved button-downs, all unnecessarily tight and showing way too much collarbone. He’s making you sweat.

“You’re staring,” he says, and smiles, self-satisfied.

You bring your straw to your lips and shake your head. “I’m not.”

He knows that you can’t help it- he is always so gorgeous. He’s infuriatingly pretty.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says, and nudges your foot under the table, voice suddenly low, and it’s like, holy shit-

You bring your drink down and lean over the table, careful to avoid knocking anything over, and kiss him quickly.

He tastes like bitter coffee.

You’re sad, all of a sudden.

When you settle back in your seat, you clear your throat like nothing happened. You want to lean in again and button up the rest of his shirt, and kiss him again. You want to come so close that your noses touch, and then yell at him, just for being him.

He looks appalled

“What was that for?”

It’s the first time you’ve ever done this.

“No reason,” you say. “I just felt like it.”

“You just felt like it,” he repeats, and it’s like the same reaction from the night at the stoplight, and you realize-

He’s dumbstruck.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it disappears. He sets his jaw like he’s about to get up and leave. You try not to scowl, even though you feel like you’re drifting, tide carrying you away, sand clean and smooth on where your body once was-

It gets to you.

“Can I not just kiss you?” you snap harshly, glaring at him with a ferocity you don’t think he’s ever seen.

It’s inevitable- the result of months of frustration. You can only suppress yourself for so long. Why, you want to ask, why are you not entitled to him the way he is to you and everything else? Can you not ask for him so wholly?

He flinches.

Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire, flinches.

It brings a small sliver of satisfaction with it. There’s some nerve you’ve struck, and the discontent on his face is steadily growing- 

You pay it no mind, drinking the rest of your iced coffee in calm silence. 

Outside, the day is vaguely summery, where the sun is out and strong, but still too cold in the shade. You stare past his head, towards the door. How quickly can you leave?

“You can,” he says quietly, when you’re rising to throw your cup in the trash. “Whenever you want.”

His eyelashes are so long- they command a moment of attention all on their own when he blinks- soft and slow and gazing at you from underneath them. You wonder if he is doing this for the same reason you are. If he’s lonely, too.

When was the last time you had the dream with the bird?

You smirk. “Whenever?”

He is forlorn. 

You like him better in the spring.

“Whenever.”

“Let’s get out of here,” you say, and make your voice low, since two can play at that game.

He considerably perks up. 

*** 

When you wake up, he’s still in your bed.

Lately, he’s been spending more time at your place than his. You think that all those windows are finally starting to get to him.

Ransom always holds you fiercely in his sleep. You break free as gently as you can and take him in for a brief moment- you like how he looks when he’s asleep. Unconcerned, chest rising slow with each breath, hair splayed over the pillow in nearly every direction. He almost looks innocent.

You get up quietly, even though there’s no chance he’ll stir- he sleeps like the dead.

Daylight filters through the blinds in white-yellow streams, dappling him golden. 

You almost take a picture, but regretfully leave the room for other tasks- you stretch and water your plants and check your email, and then sit down at the table to Skype your brother.

He picks up fast.

“Hey!” you say, and at once feel so much relief, to see his grainy, smiling face on your laptop screen.

Europe has done him good- he’s grown out his hair, and his skin is glowing, and he looks so happy.

He tells you about what he’s been doing lately, studying architecture. It makes you so proud, this fact alone- that unlike you, he can do whatever he wants and doesn’t have the looming promises of debt and academic burnout and crushing, ever-present stress hovering over his shoulders. It is so good to see him, and you are so grateful that he can be who he wants to be, do what he wants to do-

“Holy shit, who is that?”

He’s looking past you. You turn around and almost jump- 

Ransom stands in the kitchen, shirtless and rummaging through the cupboards. He waves at you.

You would think that someone like Ransom would exclusively sleep in, like, silk pajama sets, or something, but at least he’s in sweatpants- however low-rise they might be, however loosely knotted the drawstring is. It’s better than nothing, at least- what if he had walked out in nothing?

When you turn back to the screen, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your camera feed- you look absolutely mortified.

You are absolutely mortified. This is the start of what can only be a nightmare.

“Are you dating that guy?” your brother asks incredulously. He’s still staring at Ransom with his jaw hanging loose. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No,” you say forcefully, without thinking. “That’s, um... “

Hopelessly, you gesture back towards him, trying to come up with the words. Nothing feels right in your mouth- every title you can come up with is too consequential, too heavy.

“...That’s Ransom.”

“Weird name,” your brother says, and grins.

You take a breath that feels more like a gasp. “I know.”

“Hey,” Ransom says, from the back, and continues to loudly open and close the cupboards- what the fuck is he even looking for? You don’t keep enough shit in there to warrant this much noise- he’s doing this for theatrics.

“I think I’m going to go,” you say loudly. “Love you.”

“Bye,” your brother says, and he’s grinning stupidly, like a madman.

You disconnect and feel like you might faint.

Not your boyfriend, right?

“Was that your brother?” Ransom asks, casually, finally finding what he was looking for- two mugs. There is no way that he didn’t come across them earlier. 

“Yeah- yes,” you say shakily. It feels like someone has filled your brain with fizzy water.

There’s a few boys your brother has met over the years, but you’ve always been careful. Because an introduction is like making a statement- it’s like saying that this person you’re with is important enough to you that they’re going to overlap, exist in more than just one part of your life.

But Ransom is a catastrophe of a person- you can barely handle him as he is. How could you ever have him as anything more?

He goes through the cupboards, again, and finds a box of teabags. “The one studying abroad?”

“I only have one brother,” you snap.

“Okay,” he says, totally unbothered, surprising you. He’s not a morning person in the slightest- why is he being so cordial? “Where do you keep your kettle?”

“Second cupboard on the right,” you say, and bury your head in your hands.

He looks at you. He is so many things, but never kind, until now. His hair, in its adorable bedhead, flops over his eyes. Before, it was only almost, but now, you think, he looks completely innocent, like the type of guy you could give kisses without feeling nervous, the type of guy you wouldn’t deny as your boyfriend.

What is wrong with him?

What is wrong with you?

At the end of the day, he’s always there- you’re exclusive, aren’t you? Isn’t that enough to deserve a title?

He finds the kettle, and then sifts through the box. He sorts through different flavors with a gentle precision you’ve never seen before- is this really him? Is he the type of person that is gentle and precise?

The uneven smattering of blue-black bruises on your thighs say no.

You’re so confused that your head hurts.

“None of these flavors are any good,” Ransom says, and shakes his head. His hair shines in the morning light. “Earl Grey- who the hell drinks Earl Grey?”

“Don’t insult my tea like that,” you say, and he looks back at you and gives you a brilliant flash of a smile.

If he’s bothered at all by your denial, he never brings it up.

*** He’s too far gone.

He’s in freefall, feeling weak- he’s fucking succumbed.

To you. To your comebacks and the world-weary gaze you have of everything, to your nonsensical collection of plants and your painfully unattractive basketball shorts, to the way you laugh too loud and too little, to the way you say his name, where he can never tell if you’re happy with him or exasperated-

It’s wrong. 

But, he thinks, so are all of these other things, like drugs and alcohol and blowing money on shit he doesn’t need- and you make him feel better than any of those things ever have, so why should anybody have a problem with it? A week goes by after you tell your brother that he isn’t your boyfriend- and it doesn’t bother him, because he’s never wanted that title in the first place, never has- but it obviously bothers you. 

You’re disappointed in yourself, because you think you’re supposed to be better than him, because you’re so smart and he is so terrible.

He hopes that that’s not how you actually think. It hurts him to0 much to even consider it, and so he doesn’t, and so he thinks of how to keep his hold on you, and then he thinks of why he even wants to-

The truth is too apparent to deny.

After a week, he calls.

***

He’s very slow.

Not tired- just consumed with the sudden need to savor things. When you let yourself into his arms, Ransom treats you like you’re fragile.

“What’s up with you?” you ask, and as he stares, your voice reduces to something small. You go timid when his eyes are on yours, he realizes, and the thought sends a thrill through his body- he slowly rocks you, to calm himself.

Your shirt is off and you wear a bra with a small lace trim- not racy, but very cute- and he just keeps on staring.  

Wow, he thinks. He fucked up good.

“Nothing,” he says, and moves one hand from your waist- he has you in his lap, straddling him- up to the top of your neck. He trails down and over to your collarbone, hooking a finger into your bra strap.

You laugh, breathy and indecent.

He lifts it, subtly, and you whine, and he bites back his own.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, and kisses your neck. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Ransom,” you gasp, with your hands splayed over his back. He slowly skims his hand over, to your back, feeling every little thing, dip and contour and curve, everything- and then unhooks it, and you are bared to him and he is breathless.

He takes you by the shoulders and twists, to bring you down, to pin you against the bed. Your comforter is dark blue, like ocean water.

Your eyes are endless, like ocean water.

“Are you upset about something?” 

Your chest rises and falls and he almost reaches for the waistband of your underwear, but stops himself. He presses a wet kiss to one of your breasts, and you arch into his mouth. He feels like you know every single secret of his, when he has told you none.

You know by accident that he’s ticklish. That’s it.

“I’m not,” he says. “I promise.”

He bends low to kiss down the length of your body, repositions his hands to hold your waist. He thinks that this is more intense- it is just his mouth and your skin and the sound of your breath hitching.

He still has it put together, remarkably well- unfathomably well.

“I feel like there’s something you’re- ah- not telling me, honey.”

That does it.

He grips your waist harder, in the way he knows you always like, so that tomorrow he will be able to retrace his steps, follow the blue-

“Say that again,” he says, and presses a soft kiss over you- even through your underwear, with its delicate lace trim, he can feel how wet and wanting and ready you are for him.

“Say- fuck- say what?”

Your hand flails, for a second, before you thread it through his hair, and yank. It hurts, pleasantly.

He hooks his fingers into your waistband and shimmies it down your thighs, and you instinctively spread your legs. He puts his mouth to your slit, slicker than he imagined, and the heady arousal rushing through his mind- and everywhere else- is nearly enough to make him forget what you even said-

He is quite possibly drunk off of you alone, and he wants to slap himself, and, like, press you so close into him that you forget your way out.

With the spare glow of one lamp, you look like you’re made of gold.

He breaks away from you for a terrible moment to strip, and with one hand he teases your clit, and with the other he pumps himself, hard, once, twice, three times in anticipation-

“Don’t make me ask again,” he says, and comes back up to cup your face once more, and slips his hand back down into you at the same time, with his cock hard against your thigh- this is all quite slippery- the game you’re playing at and the risk he’s trying to take-

“Honey,” you say, and you’re smiling deliriously, but shakily. “Honey honey honey.”

“You’re killing me,” he says, and his voice, in a moment of terrible, vulnerable, unspeakable betrayal, cracks. 

“Good,” you say, but your voice is all wobbly as he lines himself up and roughly pushes into you, holding you a little tighter to keep you steady. “You deserve it.”

He kisses you openmouthed, with his teeth scraping- it’s rough and jarring, the way you always take it. Against his mouth, you swear incoherently, stringing together a litany of curses with his name thrown in between, and goddamn him- it makes him smile.

He wastes no time- he can’t be patient any longer, not when he has you under him like this, and so he goes fast, snapping into you at a bruising pace and keeping his mouth close, and rubbing at your clit, to overstimulate you and make everything faster, harsher, more immediate-

When you come you always say his name, thickly with gravel in your voice, and gasp like the breath has been stolen from your lungs. This time, when you are so far gone that he thinks you’re beyond the realms of sound, and sight, too, with your eyes tightly screwed shut, he says it, for the sake of himself.

“I think I love you-”

[floralovebot]

I often don't make things for poc because I'm scared of whitewashing them. Can you link to the tutorials that show how to go about this or could you explain it yourself? I'm always too scared of making things with poc in them and I don't want to whitewash anyone so advice would be amazing!

hi! i guess i could share the things i know about it but i do want to clarify that i’m not an expert at editing! so, if you want really indepth help, it would probably be best to ask someone else!

as for tutorials, these are the ones that have personally helped me! this one by @fadenet (specifically pale/pastel gifs including characters with dark skin), this one by @blueshelp (specifically about east asian and southeast asian celebs), and this one by @kispesan (specifically about edits). this is a post with a ton of resources for gif making, including things about coloring and other anti-whitewashing tutorials (highly recommend!).

when it comes to what i do, it really depends on what i’m making! i’ve made a couple of edits specifically about unwhitewashing characters of color which you can find here for examples, but overall what i do really depends on the kind of edit i’m working with.

i’d also like to quickly say that i use photoshop! while the basic coloring will cross into other programs, some of the tools/names might be different.

lets use an edit of the character aisha from winx club as an example! in season 8 of winx club, the characters aisha and flora (both having dark skin) were whitewashed. the following pictures are a screenshot from the series, showing the whitewashing, and the same sc but edited to reflect her original skin tone and hair color.

in this edit, i actually went in and recolored her skin using the brush tool (yes, it takes a hot minute to do, but you get faster the more you do it). the reason i do this for picture edits, is purely a personal preference. i like having the control of only editing the parts i want to edit and keeping the rest of the picture the same as before. personally, i don’t love using the selection tools so when i don’t need to,, well, i don’t.

if you have the time, patience, and ability to physically recolor still pictures, i’d definitely recommend it! it allows you to use the eyedropper tool on the original skin tone which makes for a much more accurate edit. taking advantage of the selection tools and paint bucket tool can make the process a lot quicker too!

now, lets use a different method, one that i personally use for things like videos and gifs (basically, anything moving)!

these gifs come from the same season as the above example and as you can see, aisha is heavily whitewashed in the first one. now, this is where coloring becomes your best friend!

so, you have your gif ready for coloring, maybe you used a psd/filter or you did your own thing, regardless, the person in the gif is whitewashed and you want to fix it. so, what do you do? (now, obviously this is just one example. there are many others ways to do this!). what i do, is almost exclusively use the hue/saturation and the color selection layers (i will occasionally use the brightness and curves layers depending on the scene)!

^^this little “guide” or whatever shows what you need to find for this tutorial.

the first thing you should do, is figure out which colors primarily make up the person’s skin tone. a good way to figure this out is by using a hue/saturation layer. click the hue/saturation, which will show a menu similar to the one in the picture, and go through each color and turn the saturation all the way down, so it says -100. don’t mess with the hue or lightness levels yet, just the saturation. this will show which colors make up the person’s skin tone! as an extreme example, if someone’s skin was green and you turned the saturation of greens all the way down, that person’s skin wouldn’t look green anymore, it’d look like someone put on a black and white filter specifically for the color green. just keep a close eye on what changes! now, this saturation change is just temporary! after you know which colors are in that person’s skin tone, you can just delete the hue/saturation layer. (you really only need to do this if you aren't used to coloring darker skin. once you get used to it, you likely won't need to, but it can still be a good reference point if you're lost on what to do)

so, after figuring out what colors you need to focus on, go to the selective colors layers, so you can edit just those colors! for our example here, aisha’s skin tone is mostly made up of reds and yellows while her hair is mostly reds and magentas. when i’m editing her skin tone and hair color, i only focus on those colors. in the selective color layer menu, you have four other colors to control; cyan, magenta, yellow, and black. although it would help, you don’t need to know everything about colors or color theory for this! just mess around with the colors sliders until you get something close to their original skin tone. you may need multiple layers of selective colors to get this right! don’t panic if it doesn’t happen right away, just keep going.

something i think is incredibly important during this step, is having a picture of that person/character open! that way you can actually go back and forth to see if what you’re doing is close. another tip, having another file open with a completely white background with a colored circle of that person’s base skin tone on it really helps. this way you can use the eyedropper and brush tools to see how close what you have in the edit is to the original (basically, use the eyedropper tool to select the skin tone in the edit and then use the brush tool to color it next to the circle of the original skin tone. this helps you see up close how similar they are!). here's an example!

the first example is from the gif and the second is from the still picture edit! you'll notice that the gif example doesn't match up exactly because in that specific scene aisha was directly in sunlight, making her skin slightly brighter than usual, while the photo i used for reference has normal lighting. remember to pay attention to things like lighting and shadows!

now, at this point you might be thinking, “this tutorial only shows what to do for animated characters and i make edits with real people :(”. don’t worry! the second method still works! here’s an example using a real person, kim taehyung from the group bts.

obviously, this isn’t perfect because i spent like. two minutes on it. so the skin is blotchy, the lips are too red, and the background changed. but the way i edited it is mostly the same as the gif example i used! the only difference being that i also used a color balance level to darken up the whole picture. however, besides that i did the exact same things as i did with the gifs of aisha above. if you're making edits with real people, then just do whatever you usually do to make sure it looks more realistic.

i hope all of this made sense? i’ve never done a tutorial before and basically all of what i’ve said has already been said! but here are some more tips for the road:

-when editing black people/characters, don’t make their skin red

-when editing indigenous people/characters, don’t make their skin red

-when editing east asian and southeast asian people/characters, don’t make their skin yellow

-pay attention to lighting! if a scene has darker lighting, skin will look darker than it is!

-on the flip side, if a character is right in front of a very bright light, their skin will look lighter

-don’t avoid the colors red and yellow, especially for people with tan/darker skin. those colors are always essential. they won’t look bad in your pastel edit.

-don’t be afraid to ask for help! if you have mutuals who make edits you can try asking them. or even making a separate post asking for help from any followers that edit! basically, if you truly don’t know what to do, either look it up or ask for help.

-do not just post the whitewashed edit/gif/art with the excuse that it’s, “just the filter” or “just the psd”. take responsibility for what you’ve created.

-if you’re using a filter/psd and you really can’t figure out how to unwhitewash someone.. use a different filter! ik you might really like the one you picked, but that doesn’t excuse racism. there are lots of filters/psds out there that don’t whitewash. use one.

i’m gonna be honest, unwhitewashing is really easy as long as you know how to work whatever program you’re using. and even if you just started, it’s still pretty simple! if you’re scared of making edits with poc because of whitewashing, learn how to not whitewash.

anyway i hope this helps? let me know if something doesn't make sense or needs more explaining! but i'd really recommend looking at the tutorials i linked as they're more in-depth and offer a lot of insight!

[dragonherder2030]

Smaugust Day 9: Galaxy

I’m leaving tomorrow morning, my sister is going to look over the farm while I’m away. Echo Bel and Kory are coming with me, they can help with transportation and have separation anxiety. Xandra is showing me her camp, she has many followers, I’m going to be the first lizard to join it. That fact will be kept secret from the rest of the “humans” as to not cause hysteria, she has done the same with herself, hiding herself as an amphibian. I’m bringing my journal, I need to be able to write my thoughts

See you soon, Niki~

*we find out who the narrator is 👀. Another first person written segment, hopefully this one won’t be as long XD. Also, if by the end of Smaugust I feel there are some odd unintended plot holes or threads that need to be resolved I’ll make sure to do so. Ik it’s confusing right now, but I will continue right where we left off on the last writing segment for easiness*

Half my tea was gone in under a minute, it was jasmine green from what I tasted and was made very well.

“Please do explain what you mean by non-lizard kind though… Are you talking Amphibious sentience?” I ask, leaning back on the couch I had been placed on.

“No not sentient Amphibians that walk like us, I mean a species on another planet called Humans. They are a scaleless race with no tails, and can grow fur at an alarming rate. They can be dangerous to us, but not all of them. If you join me you can meet them, but many of them do not have the best interests of the dragons in mind.” Her creature tightened itself onto her neck. Has it experienced these “humans” before?

“Does that planet have dragons too? Also how do you, uh, go to another planet? Do you have access to a rocket?”

“No, I have something much better and easier to fuel… but you have to commit before learning of that. Keep your questions to a minimum till I finish explaining please, it will be easier.” Saying with a small hand wave. I nob in agreement.

“The planet is called earth and is very similar to ours. But dragons do not live naturally there, and have been brought there by a lizard who wanted a new environment for sport hunting, and didn’t get them all… They ended up breeding and creating homes for themselves, few and far apart. I used to monitor and catch some of the dragons to bring them back when I could along with my brother. When he passed I couldn’t do it by myself anymore, so I seeked the assistance of other lizards to return the dragons to their natural habitat. Not many believed me, and those who did I knew didn’t have the intentions of the animals in mind. So, I decided to start recruiting humans using my magic-“

“Wait wait wait, you have magic abilities?” I ask, needing to know more about this.

“Yes I possess magic, I’m no lizard, but we don’t need to know about that for now. All you need to know is that I can give objects the ability to transform a human into a lizard or amphibian sentient if worn, that’s what I can do,” Xandra says with a sigh. I speculate what she could be, and remember a legend about the creation of our world, something similar to that happening, where a being gave sentience to all of the lizards, and later some of the amphibians. There was another part of it where they wiped out a different race beforehand but I couldn’t remember it too well.

Xandra continued her explanation, “I chose humans because they would do the best capturing dragons in the human planet, since they are not killed on sight when seen… The humans I choose were specifically selected by my familiar, Davey here,” She pointed to the amphibian around her neck, it seemed to smile in admiration of its role.

“They are small enough to avoid detection from the humans, and not popular enough to be sought out, and they are very fast. Easily able to escape a human. I’ve gotten quite the following from animal lovers around earth, and luckily most of them speak English or know sign language, Davey doesn’t go far from our camp.”

“What do you guys Uh, do? Do you go to the human world and just, catch the dragons? And why don’t you just tell the humans that the dragons are an invasive species and, I guess take them back?” I ask, confused what I would actually be doing and why the humans are a problem.

Xandra’s calm demeanor shifted, and her eyebrows furrowed, “Most humans want the dragons, but I know they aren’t safe there. They would be hunted for sport and put in cages. I’ve watched them for thousands of years, they will never accept the dragons as any more then a fantasy creature for decoration. And for some reason now there are more being found, species that weren’t brought to earth from that initial leak. There’s another source, someone from this planet that has access to Earth and is exploiting it to bring dragons there. You can help me find them, and allow me to have more allies on this side. Plus the place I’m keeping the dragons isn’t safe anymore, I need somewhere here I can put them with someone to take care of them.” Her voice had raised slightly, this is a subject she is angry about. She must have witness terrible things. I think it’s an amazing idea, I have the whole farm I could keep the dragons. Acres of land I’m not using right now could be put to this. I didn’t care if she was legit or not, I believed her.

“Ok, I’m convinced… I want to help. I have a farm that can serve as a holding place for the dragons until we can bring them to their rightful places,” I say, trying to hide the excitement in my voice. She smiles at me, looking satisfied.

“My camp, it is all humans, they do not know of our reptilian existence, to them they are the last of the reptile kind. So to them, your just another new human recruit. That means,” Xandra gets up, walking towards the closet I had noticed before, “that means that you have to pick out an accessory to simulate the effect of you being a fake lizard.”

I stand up and walk to the closet as well. Xandra escapes into the inside of it, I follow closely. The inside wasn’t meant to hold more then one person, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Along the walls is an array of shirts, jackets, pants, hats, bracelets, necklaces, etc. in every color imaginable.

“Take your pick, it doesn’t matter what it is, other then u will need to be able to wear it for long amounts of time,” she says, picking up a hat and dusting it off, then hanging it back up.

I look around the room, spinning in place, then think of something, “Do you have a piece? How do you hide that your not a lizard?”

She thinks for moment, “Davey helps me with that too, as you know they are my familiar, and they aren’t just any normal dragon either. They become a wonderful necklace whenever I need them to. And when I wear that, I become what they would be if they were a sentient Amphibian,” she explained to me. So far she has shown me no proof of the magic she claims to have, and this seems like a simple test. Even if I was all for the cause, no reason not to speculate.

“Could u show me?”

“Of course,” Xandra said, glancing at Davey. The creature climbed to the front of her neck, then sitting still right there for a few seconds. I await the transformation. Then, they stiffen and fall loose, a small chain connecting to their mouth and tail holding them onto Xandra’s neck. Her body poofs into one of an sentient Olm, her body much longer then previously. I stare up at her in awe, it all must be true.

“Wow…” I say, stunned by the display. She smiles down at me and quickly exits the closet, since she had taken up most the room.

“I need to show u our transportation tomorrow, since it is getting late. You will be seeing the camp, and meeting the members. You may stay for a couple of days to get familiar with them,” she says, looking out the window. I understand her reasoning, my sister can watch over the farm while I’m gone, I’ll be returning there soon with suitable dragons.

I return to looking at the room and behind a puffy jacket is a bronze glimmer. I walk towards it and grab it, it’s a tail ring. A dragon spiraling around a few times. And it’s adjustable, I try it on, tightening it to my liking. I decide it would be to heavy to stay on, and I don’t really like these kinds of jewelry. Placing it back in it’s spot, I try on a few other things, including a puffy jacket(after taking my shoulder armor off), a muzzle, and a necklace with an odd diamond like pendant on it. Then another thing caught my eye, a blue bandana with a cool looking pattern on it. I tie it around my neck, I think this one will work very well.

Exiting the room I look around for Xandra, spotting her on the couch reading a book. Davey was wrapped around her wrist and she was back in her original state.

“I have chosen this bandana!” I announce, walking towards her. She looks up from her reading and smiles brightly.

“Oh wonderful sweet pea, I only ask one more question of you before you go home to rest up for tomorrow,” she says, putting her book down.

“What’s that?” I ask, holding my shoulder armor tightly.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh- oh yeah you don’t know me very well yet. I’m Niki,” I say with a smile. She smiles back at me.

“Thank you hun. One more thing though, if you have any drakes I would recommend you bring them with you, they would help with the travel aspect. Tomorrow won’t be a walk in the park,” she says, picking her book back up. I nod, looking to my left and realizing the door is right next to the couch. I mentally scorn myself for not realizing this sooner, and exit the house. I know these woods, and have seen this cottage before. It looks worn down on the outside, abandoned… but making my way home is easy. It was evening by the time I made it back.

I call my sister, “Hi Bryn, I need you to watch the farm for a few days.”

—————————

This was fun, writing wasn’t the best, I was kinda zoned out while writing it lol. My main focus was to explain stuff and set up character motivations, sorry if it’s a bit messy, and like, long dang.

[forthemorefortunate]

Live Like Animals

Nessian Modern AU

Merry Chris-  er, happy New Year to my secret snowflake!  @ncssian 💕😅

I hope you like the fic! I’ll be honest, when I filled out the application for the secret snowflake, I said I could make a fic believing that it was very unlikely somebody would ask for one 🥴🤔 But lemme say, I LOVED writing this, which is definitely something I didn’t expect. More than that, I’ve never been much of a Nesta or Nessian fan, but actually thinking through their characters and interactions for this fic gave me a whole new perspective on and appreciation for them (even if I’m not the best at writing their characters, aha), so thank you!

A few quick things about the fic:

(Ik I already told you this, but for anybody else reading this aha) This is my first fic! So please take it easy on me 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Okay so this part is kind of weird, but there’s kind of a corresponding playlist 😅 Each part is named after a song. You can play the songs while reading or not, I know for me personally (*cough* my ADHD ass) it’s hard to listen to music and read at the same time. The title is also the name of a song! Except that one is more random, haha (I couldn’t think of a title, so I shuffled my entire library and chose the first song as the title, and it kinda worked so I went with it)

One more quick thing – thanks to @moussescientist @ko0mbayamylord @blxckbeak @chanberry @mikitheswiftie @potatoburp @dead-on-the-inside666 @queenoffortunes and two anons for answering a question, and a HUGE thanks to Skye, @oneoutofamillionbooklovers for all your help and for roleplaying the parts I got stuck on with me ❤️

Part 1: Distant Early Warning (Rush)

Nesta pulled the dress over her head, letting it slide into place over her body. Screw this, she thought for the millionth time, yet she continued to get herself ready, turning to glance at her reflection when she was finished. She raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly at the woman looking back through the mirror. The woman Nesta spied had on a satin slip dress, darkest blue. She wore no jewelry save for the small silver studs in her ears, and her hair was pulled into a neat-yet-simple updo.

Why Nesta even agreed to go to this party she didn’t know. There was nothing different about it, just another college booze fest. The music would be too loud, the air too heavy, the guys too grabby, and the company too... clubby. Feyre insisted that she would fit right into her friend group – her clique – but Nesta wasn’t sure she wanted that. She padded over to the door of her apartment. No, Nesta was quite certain that “fitting in” with Feyre’s newfound friends was something she didn’t care for at all.

Nesta’s phone buzzed on her kitchen counter as she slipped on a pair of black heels, and she picked up to Feyre’s forcibly perky voice. “Hey! We just pulled up, you coming?”

“No.” Response blunt, tone dry. The line was silent for a long moment, and Nesta held in a sigh. “Did I give you the impression that I was interested in coming?”

“Nesta, I’m not in the mood for fucking around,” Feyre said, perkiness mysteriously faded now. “It’s just one party! I promise you’ll have fun.” Bullshit.

“Since when have I ever-”

“And everyone else really wants you to come, too!” Feyre cut her off, “Rhys is excited to meet you!”

Rhys. Feyre’s boyfriend. Nesta groaned inwardly, truly dreading any interaction with the rugby star. Feyre had immediately caught the eye of the local heartthrob, and the two began a serious relationship shortly after meeting. And with one came the others. In high school they would have been labeled “popular.” They were quite possibly the closest group of friends at the college, almost all of them having known each other since childhood. And Feyre had slipped right in among them. Nesta had warned Feyre against making the tight pack of fourth-years her main group of friends, and she had her own opinions about a freshman dating a senior, but Feyre didn’t make a habit of following Nesta’s advice. Rather, she seemed to think she could give Nesta – a third-year – much more valuable guidance. Domineering bitch.

“I don’t give a shit about your friends, Feyre. I’m only coming because of our deal,” Nesta said. Feyre had been pestering her all semester, spewing crap about how Nesta and Feyre should spend more time together. Nesta should get out more. Nesta should tag along with Feyre’s friend group. Nesta should have some fun. 

More bullshit. 

As second semester began, Feyre had proposed a deal: Nesta would go to one party with Feyre and her buddies, and if she honestly didn’t enjoy it, Feyre would stop asking her to join them. 

“I’m on my way. Let’s just get it over with,” Nesta grumbled, and with that, she hung up the phone and opened the apartment door.

Part 2: Can You Afford to Be An Individual? (Nothing but Thieves

Nesta looked around the group of fourth-years–plus Feyre–arranged in front of her. Introductions were unnecessary; you couldn’t attend this school without knowing who they were. Her eyes fell first upon Rhys, his arm around Feyre’s waist. His chin lifted slightly as she made eye contact. Rhys: double major in history and foreign policy. President of the astrology club. Captain of the rugby team, possibly one of the best players the school had ever seen. He was the group leader, though nobody said it aloud. Nesta knew him well. Perhaps she only knew his type well, or her own perception of his type, but that didn’t keep her from holding his gaze a few moments longer than would be comfortable. Then she turned her scrutiny on his sidekicks, so she called them, Cassian and Azriel. The former wore jeans and a baggy black jacket over his rugby uniform in the school colors: black and red. The latter wore black pants with a dark blue button-down shirt untucked.

Cassian smirked as her eyes met his. “Glad you decided to make an appearance,” he drawled. She narrowed her eyes at him, and his smile widened in response. Cocky bastard. Azriel, double majoring in political science and criminology, simply nodded at her in greeting.

After the sidekicks came Rhys’s cousin Mor, an architecture major with a minor in design. She was entirely too peppy in a way that left Nesta exhausted, but Nesta wouldn’t give her satisfaction by scoffing at her cocked hip and half-grin, ostensibly projecting confidence. She held Mor’s stare, matching her asserted confidence with a cool security in her own assets. The half-smile twisted, just slightly, and Nesta moved on to the short girl farthest to the right: Amren.

Amren scared people. As in, people were genuinely freaked out by her. Aside from a few cultish tendencies, her occasional propensity for violence and/or verbal outbursts, and her sharp expression, though, Nesta couldn’t tell why. Amren majored in gemology and minored in linguistics, and was the only one in the group other than Feyre to have not known the others since they were little. In fact, she was studying here from abroad, though nobody actually knew where she was from. Unlike Mor, Amren presented a confidence that Nesta could believe in and respect. Nesta maintained her chilled posture, but let the bite in her expression retreat.

As for Feyre’s introducing Nesta, that was unnecessary as well. They all knew her; most upperclassmen did. Or rather they knew of her, by the name of heinous bitch. If she were being honest with herself, she didn’t mind the nickname.

“Okay,” Feyre started, her voice expectant as she tilted her chin to look at Rhys’s face, “Let’s head in?” Feyre, Rhys, and Nesta had met up with the rest of the group in the parking lot before they entered the party. Fashionably late, Feyre had told her on the drive in Rhys’s tesla. Rhys taught me that the key to maintaining his public image is in making grand entrances. God, Nesta wanted to laugh at Rhys’s influence over her.

As they entered the building holding the party Nesta immediately stiffened, and had to close her eyes for a moment against the harsh blue and purple lights cast by PAR cans. All senses at once were smacked by the presence of weed. The floor was vibrating, and speakers blasted near-deafening music so that all Nesta could really hear was thunder. Jesus Christ, I hate parties, she thought. A mass of sweaty bodies shifted and bounced through the too-heavy air ahead of her, some only silhouettes in the murky haze, through which Nesta saw red solo cups littering every possible surface. Suddenly she noticed Feyre standing next to her, fidgeting with her clutch and looking over expectantly. Nesta shot her a withering look that said, “This is not what we agreed to.” Feyre had the nerve to look guilty.

“Okay before you say anything,” Feyre began, “I know that look, and... I know this is a bit bigger than we talked about-”

“A bit?! This is a rager, Feyre. Do I look like I rage?”

“Okay no, but I promise Rhys and I have a plan.” Oh my God.

Nesta gave her another glare and plucked a cup off a nearby table. Sniffing it, she sighed and took a big swig. “Please, my dearest sister, do tell.”

“We’re going with a buddy system.”

Nesta coughed. “A buddy system – are you fucking kidding me?” She spied Rhys and his dickhead friends in the corner of her eye. “Wow, are arts and crafts before or after beer pong?”

Feyre rolled her eyes, calling a fresh wave of frustration to roll over Nesta. “Can you shut it with the attitude, Nesta? I already apologized for the crowd of people – it kind of got out of hand. Rhys told me before we left but I didn’t want to scare you out of coming.” She gave Nesta a pleading look.

“Tch, whatever. Who’s my buddy? I assume you’ll be with Rhys?”

Feyre beamed at her. “You’re paired up with Cassian!”

“Cassian.” Great. Alpha dickhead.

“Don’t be like that. He knows his way around these things and he’ll keep you from accidentally overdosing or blacking out.” 

“Who said that wasn’t my intention?” 

Feyre scrunched her face up. “Either way, you can’t deny that he’s bigger and taller than half the creepy guys here. He’ll keep unwanted attention away.” 

Nesta watched as Rhys, lead hulking rugby bro dickhead, caught sight of her sister and eyed her with what might have been lust or love – Nesta couldn’t decide. Cassian, approaching from Rhys’s side, cut Nesta a slow, purposeful look down and back up to her face. She felt an annoying tingle down her spine as the crowds parted for them. This was going to be a long night.

Part 3: Inhaler (Foals)

They had been at the party for less than ten minutes and Nesta already wanted to leave. Drink in hand, she aimlessly wandered around the outskirts of the crowd, hoping to find a place to sit farther from the lights that drowned out any rational thought that flashed through her brain. Cassian trailed a few steps behind.

“So, what do you do for fun?”

She twisted around to glare at him. “Why are you talking to me?”

Cassian puffed out a laugh and spread his arms wide, responding, “If you don’t recall, we’re kind of stuck together, darling.”

Right. Nesta rolled her eyes. “How could I forget?” Cassian left the question hanging, still following her, so she forged on. “I like to read. A concept that’s probably foreign to you.” She dodged a young couple parting from the fray to make out against the wall, and paused to reorient herself.

“You might be surprised.” Nesta groaned inwardly and arched a brow. “Oh I have no doubt.”

“None at all?”

“What. Are you on volume seven of Captain Underpants?”

“Volume eight, actually.”

Nesta stopped. She was pissed. Pissed at this party, pissed at Feyre for lying about how big it was, pissed that she was stuck with rugby bro sidekick, pissed that the purple lights suddenly seemed a lot brighter, the music a lot louder, her thoughts a lot fuzzier. “Look, Cassian. I only came here as a favor to my sister. We’re not friends.” He started to cut her off, but she continued, turning so that they fully faced each other, “You don’t have to stay, I can take care of myself.”

He leaned in close, the laughter in his tone suddenly gone. “Listen, princess. You’ve had two beers and you’re already tipsy. I get it, we’re not friends. But there are at least four guys looking at you like they want to take you against the nearest surface and I’m the only man within a thirty-foot radius that has any self-control. There’s no way I’m leaving.” He held her gaze firmly.

“So that’s it – I’m just supposed to trust you? My knight in shining armor, here to protect my virtue? That ship sailed a long time ago.” Fuck it. “I wouldn’t mind taking you for a ride though,” Nesta said, flashing a smirk at the end.

Cassian’s lips twisted into a half-grin, but she could see annoyance rising up in his eyes. “Nesta, you don’t wanna play with me.”

“Brute.” Nesta turned and started walking away again.

“Bitch.” He followed.

Nesta scoffed. “How original.”

“Not all of us are English Lit majors.” 

Somehow Nesta tripped on her own foot at that moment, staggering sideways into Cassian’s path. He lunged forward, arms going around her waist to hoist her upright. Her lip curled and she spit out, “And not all of us are rugby stars,” and shoved her way out of his arms.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Cassian asked, incredulous.

“Cassian, I’m sure there are plenty of girls here that would love your attention. But I’m not one of them.” She turned around to face him, walking backwards, and almost tripped again. “So go on and play with someone else. I don’t care. Just leave me alone.” With that, Nesta thrust herself into the fray, pushing her way through the mass of shouting people, making the crowd a barrier between herself and Cassian.

Part 4: Emergency (Nothing but Thieves)

After five minutes of random college students bumping into her from every direction, her head pounding and thoughts muddled, Nesta realized she didn’t know which direction the exit was in. Fuck. She was disoriented and exasperated, her frustration now showing in her usually unshakable expression. She couldn’t even tell which direction the light was coming from. How many beers had she drunk? Two? Three? She wasn’t usually a drinker, and it hit her then that she hadn’t eaten for hours before the party started. Stupid, she thought. This was why she didn’t do parties.

She was so distracted trying to figure out where the light source was, trying to get her bearings at least, that she didn’t catch sight of a brooding figure wending its way toward her until the man had a hold of her wrist and was pulling her to the side of the room, wherever that was. 

“Hey! Get the fuck off me!” Nesta shouted over the crowd, but couldn’t get a response from the man until they found one of the cinder block walls.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice cruel as he tried to pull her closer. “We’re just having a bit of fun, that’s all.”

“Excuse me?” Nesta ripped free of his grasp, but he backed her into a corner. He had a drink in one hand. Not good.

“Hey, hey, no need to get worked up,” he drawled, “I saw the way you were looking at me.” Looking at him? Nesta thought. This was the first she’d seen of him.

Nesta tried to step to the side, but the man followed her, his senses keener than hers in her condition. He reached out for her arm again, and Nesta shouted this time. “Don’t touch me!”

He put his hand up as if in innocence. “Come now, I’ll make it fun for you. Just have a drink.” He brought the cup toward her face, his hand now reaching behind her head, which she snatched away.

“I swear to God, can’t you bastards understand that no means no?”

“You-”

“Get the fuck away from me, creep!” She aimed a kick at his groin, but he easily dodged it.

His mouth hardened into a line, and he growled, “Just take the damn drink, bitch!”

The man shoved her into the corner, her head hitting the wall. He brought his hand up to hold her back by her shoulders as he brought the cup up toward her lips and-

“Let me go or I promise you’ll regret it.” Last resort. 

He shot her a crooked grin and began to reply, but whatever response he had in mind was cut short.

A voice from behind him said, “And she never goes back on a promise, asshole.” The man was wrenched off her body by two strong hands, and pulled over to the side to give her an out, which she quickly took advantage of.

And there, dragging the man away from her, was Cassian.

The creep tried to play it cool. “Hey, Cassian, bro, what’s up, man?” he said mock-casually, “I caught your last game! great playing, dude!” His demeanor shifted completely as he turned on his bro mode.

Cassian’s jaw was set. He tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder, his stare withering. “You need to leave. Right now.”

Yet the man kept going with a smirk, “It’s all good bro, we can share.” 

That was a step too far.

Cassian grabbed the man’s shirt, pulling him close. “That’s the thing – I don’t share. I don’t play nice.” Cassian thrust his face forward so they were only a couple inches apart. “You said you caught my last game, right? So you know I don’t go down without a fight. Touch her again and you’ll regret it.” With that, he shoved the guy into a table, and turned to Nesta. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Part 5: Before We Drift Away (Nothing but Thieves)

Dizzy and shaken, Nesta let Cassian guide her through the crowd to the exit. Once they were outside in the cool night air, he pulled her aside, gaze dark.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Did he force you to drink whatever was in that cup?”

“No.”

His eyes closed and relief flooded across his face. “Good. God, some people are fucked up. I don’t know what I would have done if he had drugged you, or taken you away, or...” He trailed off, leaving anything further than that unsaid. 

They were silent for a minute. Nesta looked up at him, a bit of worry still etched across his features. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you care so much?”

He looked over to her, something strange in his expression that Nesta couldn’t place. “I don’t know. You’re a human being, and your safety was left in my hands.” He paused and looked away. “If I’m being honest, when I saw that guy put his hands on you... I don’t know. Something flipped inside me.” At that moment he looked down to her bare shoulders, noticing that she was beginning to shiver. “You’re cold,” he said softly. “Here, take this.” He removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, even when she protested.

Nesta frowned as she gave in and pulled his jacket tightly around her, annoyed at the way her body betrayed her. “I don’t need protection. I’ve lived a long time without people to care about me.” She started walking toward the parking lot, and he followed.

“You shouldn’t have to live like that, Nesta. You’ve been pushing me away all night, but listen to me – don’t you understand? I’m not just talking to you because I’m bored. I don’t smile at you as a game, as if you’re some prize for me to win. Can’t you see by now that I’m doing literally everything I can just to stay by your side? Damn it, I asked Feyre to pair us together at the party.”

Nesta had stopped walking and was speechless for once.

Cassian stepped closer tentatively, as though she’d back away. He ran a finger over Nesta’s wrist and looked up to the sky. “Please, just don’t make me say anything else completely insane. I promise I’m not in the habit of sharing intense moments with perfect strangers.”

A rush of anger coursed through Nesta, and she shoved him back. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t talk to me like that. Despite what you must think, I’m not an idiot. I’m not naive. I am well aware that this is all a favor to my sister. Stay with my lame, antisocial sister. It might be fun, right?” She paused, any restraint she had used earlier having completely abandoned her.

“That’s not what I think at all, Nes-”

“Fuck you, Cassian.” She shoved him again, more aggressively this time.

Cassian caught her wrists and pulled her closer. “Try that again.”

Nesta glared. “Bite me,” she spit out.

“Maybe I will.”

And as though drawn to her by some gravitational force, Cassian’s mouth came crashing down onto hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist, seeming to lift her off her feet. Nesta’s bare skin burned where Cassian touched her, and she pushed back against his touch to gain control. Everything, every thought was fading to nothing. Biting down on his lip drew out a low groan from Cassian, and Nesta broke free.

Cassian put his hands up as though to make a barrier between them, as though he wouldn’t be able to control himself without it. 

“So much for being the only man with self-control,” Nesta said. Cassian just shook his head, earning a light snort from Nesta. “I shut everyone out--even pretty jocks like you. Don’t take it personally. It’s just easier.”

Cassian smiled his easy smile, and he reached up to touch his lips with a thumb. “You think I’m pretty?”

Nesta scoffed. “The prettiest.”

He stood there for a moment, just smiling at her, before turning back toward the parking lot. “Okay, princess, allow me to introduce you to the pinnacle of after-party activities.”

Nesta raised a brow, and Cassian let out a bark of laughter.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about pancakes.”

She looked skeptical. “Pancakes?”

“Yes. And after the night you had, you deserve an entire plate of them.” Cassian reached out to her with his big, warm hand, and Nesta hesitated.

“Cassian-” She started warily.

“Hey – I’m not asking you to marry me, it’s just pancakes.”

Nesta waited a moment more, then took his hand. “Fine. But I’m not sharing the chocolate sauce.”

“I wouldn’t dare ask you to. Besides, you already know how I feel about sharing.”

Nesta smiled a bit. “Hey Cassian?

“Yes Nesta?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

[washymylifeaway]

hi! do you have any favourite fantasy/mythology esque sakuatsu fics?

Haikyuu SakuAtsu fanfic recs: Fantasy Edition!!!!

To the anon who requested this, you are an ABSOLUTE GOD. I don’t know if you know, but fantasy AND mythology are some of my FAVORITE genres of ALL TIME. STILL, I saw the esque and I ran with it (cause there isn’t a lot of like pure fantasy or mythological journey fics ie. my poor excuse OOPS LOL and I wasn’t too sure what would be okay on this list AHAHA), so if it’s not the right kind of fics you were looking for, I’M SO SORRY :((((((( May this rec list be up to your expectations!!!!!! (And if it isn’t, feel free to re-request :’))))),,,, ALSO, ignore me switching between Sakusa and Omi LOL.)

As per usual, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for each fic before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

if you make me feel in love / if you make me open up by volchitsae (E) 6.4k // this is a reincarnation AU, and it has a major folklore/japanese-ish mythology (gods) element to it. This honestly MIGHT be my favorite from this list cause it’s just done SO well and I LOVE the reunion after the TRAGEDY :’)))) I’m trying to be vague cause I REALLY don’t want to spoil this fic at ALL, so PLEASE read it heh.

my love, take your time by bastigod (T) 9k // this is another reincarnation AU, but this time it’s with greek-ish mythology :’D However, the fantasy part of it is kinda on the back burner (ahaha oops LOL). It becomes more apparent near the end of the fic, but the build up to it is worth reading, which is why it’s here LOL. I love how they added Sakusa’s own memories concerning certain things, and how he collected pieces of them in the museum! The writing is so good, but also, I’m a sucker for Omi making lists relating to Atsumu hehe.

your flame will not survive in this cold tundra by awkwardedgeworth (T) 26.5k // this is an AtLA AU, but even if you don’t know the show, you’ll still enjoy it! I absolutely love this fic and the plot is really AMAZING and asihfkjahsdkfjak their DEVELOPMENT. Especially with the separation of POV’s in both chapters (and what we get to see which we didn’t previously) UGH,,,, it was so GOOD. (Their other AtLA AU fics are really good too, so don’t be shy, go read them as well LOL.)

one life, one encounter by bastigod (G) 5.7k // this is a japanese-ish mythology AU, with our first appearance of foxsumu. We do stan Kita-san and Sakusa being friends with one another in this house :D This fic was really cute and Sakusa is so baby in this (but in a GOOD WAY), and when he talks to Atsumu at first,,, HE SOUNDED SO LONELY LIKE I’LL BE YOUR FRIEND :((((((

give me a moment so devoted by volchitsae (T) 4.5k // immortals! YES! I really really like this one and I think that their relationship in it was SO cute. I am really into the idea of Atsumu being insufferable throughout Omi’s lifetime and them having INSIDE JOKES AHHHHH. It’s really light and fluffy so if you just want some love in your life, this is the read :)

show you my best disguise by volchitsae (T) 5.1k // this one has NICE Sakusa in it (which I think should be more common fight me) and their relationship with one another is actually good from the beginning :D I love how naturally it progressed and how we get to see the habits slowly build as they spend time with one another. Very good fic, but not lots of magic until the end LOL. (There’s also a lot of poetry LOL.)

both our hands speak for us and complicate it by volchitsae (M) 8.6k // MAGIC/superpowers :D FIRST, the puns are such a nice touch to this fic and SECOND we do love the yachi/yama agenda being pushed here. I really like the conditions Sakusa’s powers have, and how that added to the plot (and the ending for that matter, may there be a universe where they can touch LOL). Honestly, the magic is also kinda back burner for this one and it focuses more on relationship dev. but it’s still a fun read so I added it LOL.

Rain and Its Incendiary Properties by firtree (M) 24.5k // so we get some Sakusa turning into vampire backstory in this one, and the revelation of more mythical beings LOL. Bless Komori and tbh Suna for being some MVP’s in this fic, we do love the familial bonds :)))) But also, the knowledge at the end does give some second hand embarrassment so brace yourself LOL.

two slow dancers by orphan_account (T) 1.2k // AHHHHHH BLOND SAKUSA! Also, yes another vampire fic. What? Sue me. This is just a load of fluff and sap from Atsumu, and warning: there ARE twilight references in this one ahahahaha. (If you thought that with this many vampire fics on the list, you would be safe from twilight, you obviously thought wrong.)

crimson colored lotus by sieges (M) 16.5k // this was a demon slayer AU LOL. TBH I haven’t watched DS, but you honestly don’t really need to in order to read this LOL. It’s explained really well and the writing is AMAZING! It’s not a linear fic, but you can read it in order if you so choose. I know it’s a stretch for this list, but it’s just that good, okay? LOL.

how can I not be moved (by you) by Ann1215 (T) 26.4k // this has warlock Atsumu (with an actual REASON for his blond-ness that isn’t Osamu) and halfling Sakusa, who is eventually a sap LOL. I really love fics with familiars and animals so this fic was one that I really liked hehe. The ending? Embarrassing but we do love the love LOL. Also the second part with Atsumu’s POV, FLUFF like, yes please give me all the love :DDDDD

enchanted to meet ya by zantetsvkens (T) 4.8k // FAST BURN but it makes sense. I agree with the a/n at the end for the confession, so there’s that LOL. I liked this one because the tactful provoking was SO good and funny for that matter HAH. But Sakusa WOULD be more concerned with the window costs than Atsumu’s wellbeing (it had to have been said).

when morning comes we'll be safe by bestcarrot (T) 2.7k // another demon slayer AU even though I’ve never read or watched ds? Yes. Again, sue me. I know it’s teeeeeeechnically a stretch BUT fox demon Atsumu...... (Also it’s written so well I felt like I needed to add it okay? :’)))))) AND yes, I WAS holding onto the no character death (YOU SHOULD TOO), the close ending was scary.

a boy is a thing with fangs by unthank (T) 3.5k // foxsumu! ngl I’ll just be straight up honest with you all, I added this for the response Sakusa has to Atsumu when they’re watching SunaOsa play shogi in the next fic LOL. I thought it was so funny and perfect for that moment please. Just,,,, forgive me once AHAHAH.

Falling For You (Literally) by Anubis_2701 (T) 6.5k // clumsy Atsumu makes me feel some type of way LOL. This is another NICE, soft Sakusa fic (like i said we need more: me pretending like I don’t see the tag for it LOL) and it’s just really cute. There’s some medical tings that occur (cause Omi is literally a magical medic LOL), but it’s just very FLUFF hehe.

The curse of a blessing by basinnit (E) 7.8k // CHECKING WARNINGS AND TAGS!!!!!!! I felt like I knew what was going to happen, but DENIAL IS NICE OKAY. Honestly, it seems short with it’s 7.8k word count, but with the number of mental breaks you’re gonna need,,,, it’ll seem long. Also, yes Atsumu punching people (one person in particular) because I would’ve too and I love that person >:((((( It looks scary and confusing with the tags, but I’d read it anyway LOL. (If you’re wondering, the magic is that Suna and Sakusa are warlocks LOL.)

The Fox Prince by cinnamonlove (T) 13.1k // okay there are some INSULTS thrown (and lots of cursing LOL) and so TW: LOTTA CURSE WORDS. Aside from that, we see once again MVP Komori making an appearance, but also vulnerable SakuAtsu near the end :0 It’s definitely an interesting fic, so that’s why it’s here LOL. (Also it’s like fake foxsumu but not really,,,, you’ll understand.)

the echoing halls by ohwickedsoul (T) 11.7k // GAH THIS ONE WAS SO GOOD. To read it though, some background knowledge (or google LOL) is needed cause the mythology references are very strong in this one. But I love when Sakusa was so desperate (honor’d light AUAHFKJDHFKJS) and Atsumu was aboutta (basically) punch him LOL. V GOOD V CUTE IN LOVE? I AM.

Did I just take this ask as an excuse to read a crap ton of fantasy/mythology AUs instead of doing any of my other work? Yes, yes I did. Also, I know it’s kinda short (LOL NOT ME SAYING THIS but I did NOT (surprising IK) put some of the fics I liked D:), but I tried to REALLY narrow it down a bit hehe. I hope I didn’t miss too many good ones, and I’m sorry for not really staying on ‘topic’ LOL. I realized while re-reading these that a lot of them are just Atsumu like meeting Sakusa by chance and being like dang, he’s hot. Gotta bother him forever ig? Thank you for the ask, it was really fun and I hope you liked the fics hehe :)

[blackberry-gingham]

This is a bit personal but how about beatle x reader headcannons/imagines of how the boys would react to their reader feeling self conscious about their body

No problem at all! So, I've seen this trope done quite a bit on other headcannon type pages for other fandoms, and since body insecurity is something very serious to me that I myself use to (and still do) deal with, I wanted to try and take this a little deeper then "you're sad, they tell you you're beautiful, the end", so I'm sorry if these get a touch angsty, but I promise everything works out ❤️

Also, I'm so sorry this took so long dear! These are somewhere between headcannons and my usual imagines, so I hope they're alright enough to make up for the wait! And remember, you're amazing and wonderful, just the way you are ❤️❤️❤️

George

Personally, I feel like George is sort of ?? forgotten ??? Of all the boys

By that I mean, like even non Beatle fans know Paul and John, and they might know Ringo just bc that name stands out, but George???

I mean, ik back before I was a fan I could never remember who "the fourth one" was

So anyway, even tho he's kind of in the background compared to the other three, that doesn't mean he's not sensitive to how the others are treated/feeling

At the end of the day I think he'd be his usual self and a good, sympathetic ear to insecurity issues

When he finds out, it's kind of an overtime process

He's use to bringing you snacks and take a little break like that with you, especially after a long day of recording or practice

But lately, you've been... Strange about it

Either straight up turning him down, or picking at the food and not really touching anything

He asks what's wrong, as gently as he can, seeing as he honestly already suspects the answer

You and George have been together for a while now, and he's always been easy to talk to, and understanding if you don't feel like sharing, so you feel that you can be honest

"I'm just... Trying to watch my figure, you know?"

He just kind of looks at you, confused at first

"Why?"

His face is hard to read, and yet still manages to turn to a completely different, very serious, emotion

"Has someone said something to you?"

You now have his full attention as he puts aside his guitar

You assure him that no, it's just a personal thing

"Oh", he nods

"Yeah", you nod

You're not sure how this makes you feel. Perhaps you're glad it's over, but you can't help but feel... Shunned?

But before you can ruminate too much, George brushes off his lap as though he's about to stand

Instead he sits back and looks at you

"Come here"

His voice is serious, but not quite stern

Invitingly, he becons you over and nods towards his lap

You look from his face to his long, thin legs

At first you decline, brushing it off almost as a joke

You look to your own legs

He can't be serious?

He asks you again, "Come on, I want to show you something"

At this point your curiosity is peaked

You get up and approach cautiously, as though he might run away

When the moment of truth arrives, you slowly, s l o w l y, begin to sit

Tired of waiting, George hooks his hands under your knees and pulls you forward

You fall onto his lap with a little thud and you figure this is it, expecting him to shove you off

Instead, when nothing happens, you dare to peak your scrunched up eyes open and see his smile waiting for you

He leans in for a gentle kiss, all the while his hands are resting on your thighs

His legs are like iron, not uncomfortable to sit on, quite the opposite actually, but strong in a way you hadn't expected

When the kiss is broken, he slides his palms up and out until they're resting on your hips

His callused fingers tickle a little, even through the fabric of your clothes

"So um, what were you going t-?"

He shushes and you, and picks up your hand in his

George brings the heel of your palm a mere inch away from his lips

He pauses just for a moment, making direct eye contact with you, before turning back to his work

He presses a trail of kisses along the inside of your arm, to the crook of your elbow, and up your bicep

You shiver, tensing as he goes up

But he doesn't recoil, or hesitate, or do anything of the sort

He gives equal love and attention to every inch of your flesh as he goes, only stopping at your shoulder to make sure you're still alright

As though giving permission, you bite your lip and give a subtle nod, curious to see what happens next

George releases your arm, now dedicating both hands to massaging your hips with all the thumb dexterity of a skilled guitarist

Next he moves along your shoulders, dropping down just a moment to give some attention to the bump of your collar bone

When he's done there, he lingers on your neck, gently kissing and sucking up and down before settling in one spot

After a moment, he starts humming a familiar tune against your skin

"Do you this song?", His voice is just a whisper

"Hm?"

"It's one of the first songs we wrote together"

George pulls back again to look at your face...

"As much as I love you for what's out here"

...Then presses one more kiss to your lips

"I love you even more for what's in here"

He kisses your forehead

Finally he pulls back one more time, and the way he looks at you is as though all the love in the world is inside those eyes

"Never forget that. Promise me"

You seal your promise with a kiss

John

Ok so I think we all know John struggled with an eating disorder(s)

So he knows the whole nine yards of what it's like being "overweight", "underweight", somewhere in between, and still never being good enough for everyone else

I mean John is basically infamous for having been body shamed and criticized out of all the boys, particularly in the early years

So all this to say, he knows how awful it feels

To wake up in the morning, try to get dressed, and take forever to choose an outfit because you hate how everything looks on you

To look in the mirror and be unable to stand your own reflection

To think once, twice, and yes, even thrice before enjoying your favorite little snack, or even just a regular meal

He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy

And when he finds out that you, the most lovely person in the world, feel that way...

Oh, his heart breaks

All the boys would take this quite seriously of course, but John simply has a certain... understanding that the others don't

He finds out one night on a dinner date with you

You've picked at everything all night, hardly a bite

This is starting to form a pattern, and rest assured, he has been noticing

At the end of the meal, he asks if everything was alright in a way that references much more then the food

"Oh yes, fine", you force that same smile you always give when he asks that question

He waits until you're both in the comfort of your flat to breach the topic

You see, John is a man of many faces

The first layer is prickly and aggressive, the second is a mischievous joker, the third a sweet, but anxious individual

And under all those masks, the real John, is the most compassionate and loving man you've ever met

So when he does ask you what's really going on, he's very serious and very gentle

He wants you to know that you're safe to tell him anything and that he wants to help with whatever is so very clearly bothering you

It's tough to get it out, but John is patient and encouraging all the while and you manage it

You're surprised to hear that he suspected as much

John tries to go a little deeper, asking of there's anything particular that makes you feel this way or if it's just a constant thing

Regardless of your answer, he offers you what advice he can, from both personal experience and what he learned from his therapy sessions

John's not too great at comforting speeches, but he'll be damned if he doesn't do everything he can to make sure you know just how much he loves you

He loves you for your heart, and how patient and kind you are with not just him, but everyone

He loves you for your mind, and how you too can have deep conversations about topics that are important to you both

And perhaps most of all, he loves you for your personality and how you can poke a bit of fun, just like he does, and you aren't afraid to put him in his place when he's being an arse

"Is there anything I can do for you love?"

You smile, feeling just a bit better after his speech

"How's about a cuddle?"

John grins cheekily, "Now you're talking!"

He half tackles you from his seat beside you, turning your seated position into a reclining one

You can't help but laugh playfully as he easily picks you up in a bear hug and slips under you so you can rest on top of him

He presses a kiss to your cheek

"How's that?"

You smirk back

"It's a start"

John gasps in mock disbelief at your remark

You just wrap your arms around his shoulders, snuggling against him

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to keep it up"

At that, he nuzzles the side of your face, glad to see you finally feeling relaxed

John give you one more squeeze in his strong arms, holding you close

You two spend the rest of the evening cuddled up and cozy until you fall asleep in each other's arms

Paul

Now it's no secret Paul has always been the "pretty one" of the Beatles

I mean heck, even in the freaking cartoon he has the least goofy and caricature esque face of all the boys

But personally I would imagine that he's felt a certain pressure from time to time to keep up his looks!

It would be quite draining for everyone to have this flawless image of you and then expect you to live up to it 24/7, so in that regard he understands struggling with feeling less then perfect

And certainly with feeling subpar when others just expect far too much!

The night it comes out, the two of you have plans to attend a soiree of sorts

Music, lights, dancing, champaign, the hosts are pulling all the stops and it'll be absolutely a black tie affair

You've got a very fancy dress for the occasion that you got as a gift from Paul some time ago, it's all sparkly, exquisite, and your favorite color to boot

And it... "fits"

As in, you can zip it up and move and breathe comfortably in it, but it just....

Paul finds you standing in front of the full length mirror, mascara beginning to run quietly down your face as you tug and smooth and pull the dress in varying places

He's honestly a bit panicked and confused at first. After all, he does hate to see you upset, let alone cry

"is something wrong love? Do you not like that one? There's plenty of time to change!"

"it's nothing! Just an eyelash"

You try to laugh it off and hope that he'll just leave you alone

You see, Paul has been talking about this shindig for weeks in advance

It's hosted by a good friend, many more of which will be in attendance tonight

Not to mention he hardly ever gets to do something nice away from the press, so you're trying very hard not to ruin things for him

Paul walks over to you, concern written all over his face

"No really, what's wrong?"

You try to wave him off, but he takes you gently by the shoulders and looks you square in the eye

He looks around your beautiful eyes, searching, and it almost feels as though he can read your mind

At last he says "You don't want to go?"

With that, you just can't manage to hold a brave face any longer and the tears come rolling down

Without another word, Paul guides you to a seat on the bed and returns swiftly with some tissues

He dries your eyes as best he can and thumbs a soothing circle on your hand, giving you space to tell him what's on your mind

When you've had the chance to situate yourself, you tell him that you don't mind the party it's just that the way you feel in that dress, in fact, in all your dresses is just...

Paul nods understandingly as you trail off, and the two of you sit in silence for a moment

You're concerned you've upset him and ask as much

"What? No, of course not love!"

"But I know how much you want to g-"

Paul shushes you and brings a hand up to stroke your cheek

"I don't care about some stupid party, nothing matters more to me then you. I mean that"

He tilts his head and smiles at you

"Tell you what? We'll just skip it and have some fun right here!"

For a moment you're afraid he's doesn't mean it, but there's a childlike gleam in his eyes and grin on his face that tells you he not only means it, but is excited at the prospect

You're still a little doubtful that you haven't made him upset, but Paul reassures you until you're able to take him at his word

Absolutely relieved, you agree and wipe away your last few tears

"Good. Now let's get this off you, eh?"

Paul helps you take out your jewelry as well as undoing the far too complicated latches, ribbon, and zipper on the back of the dress

His delicate fingers slide up and down the length of your neck and back reverently as he works, planting gentle kisses to the nape of your neck every so often

With the hardest part over, and ever the gentleman, he gives you space to slip it off and put on something more comfortable

When next you see him, he's putting on a sweet and slow record, something like what you would've probably heard tonight

He's removed his suit jacket, tie, and shoes and when he turns to see you in your adorable PJs he smiles at you like you're the belle of the ball

"Ahem, may I have this dance?"

He bows low and offers you his hand, peaking up at you for just a moment to shoot you a playful grin

You laugh at his silly antics and give in happily to the charade

Paul leads you in a steady waltz around and around the room, the two of you stealing kisses and suppressing laughter all the while

When the record comes to an end, you both collapse on the couch and catch your breath

By now, you're fully confident you've had more fun just now then you would've all night had you gone

After a minutes rest, Paul hops up from his seat

"Just a minute, I forgot something... Wait right here!"

He darts off around the bend and when next you see him, he's carrying two flutes of champagne

Paul takes a seat beside you again and hands you yours

"I was saving this for when we got back, thought we could leave early and enjoy the rest of the evening alone"

You smile, touched by the thoughtfulness and still riding the high of the previous activities

Finally, you propose a toast

"To my amazing, lovely boyfriend"

Paul smiles at you with adoration. You mean so much more to him then a mere toast could describe

"To my love, the most gorgeous dance partner in the world"

Ringo

Idk if this is/was a thing, or if it's just something I've noticed, but Ringo seems to be the butt of the joke, particularly in regards to his appearance, a lot

Like he's the "short" one and he's got that nose

I only ever see him take it like a champ and all in good fun, and laid back as he is, it doesn't seem to hold him back but I'm sure he'd understand feeling insecure about ones body/looks

But for you to be insecure???

He just??????

When Ringo finds out, he's honestly the most bewildered of all

He finds you sat against the wall, hunched up and crying, half clothed, and a mess of clothing strewn around you

Usually whenever something's bothering you, you know you can bring it to him.

He's always there for you, after all

So to see you like this, he's absolutely terrified that something truly awful has happened

In that moment, thanks to his roaring adrenaline, he goes from rock star to olympic sprinter and dashes to your side so quickly it's as though he teleported

"What's wrong love, what's wrong?"

He holds your face up to look at him and quickly checks over you to make sure you're not injured or sick in some way

When he sees the pain in your eyes, he's nearly crying too

He wants so desperately to help you, and take all your troubles and worries away this very moment.

Even if it meant he had to shoulder the suffering for you, he'd do it in a heartbeat, no doubt

You feel rather embarrassed to be caught like this, and even worse still to see your boyfriend so upset on your behalf

This takes you back to square one, crying and nonverbal for a bit longer

Luckily, Ringo catches on that him getting upset is only going to make you more upset, so he settles himself and holds you until you're ready

When you are ready, you manage to choke out your insecurity, trusting him as you always do

And when he hears you're insecure about your body, or even your looks in general, he is just....

Ringo.exe has stopped working

Mind, it not that he doesn't understand your feelings!!

It's just that you are so completely and absolutely beautiful and kind and so much more to him, that he simply cannot fathom the idea of holding the opinion of you as any less

"is it the clothes? Because forget the damn clothes" He takes a handful and throws them up and away, like confetti

"I'll buy you a whole new closet if you like! W-would you like that?"

He smiles hopefully at you, as though you truly would like that, and it'll solve all your problems

You simply shake your head

And, after moment, Ringo starts to understand

He sits with you silently for a moment, the gravity of your feelings is so important to him that he's not sure plain old him has something good enough to say

But he knows he wants to say something

So, he meditates on it for a moment, and decides he can only tell you the truth

"Well... you know that I love you, yeah? Sometimes I wonder how a guy like me got so lucky to be with a right angel like you.... And so do the lads"

He laughs that deep, silly laugh you love so much

"Why, I think you're the loveliest girl in all of England er uh, no, all the world!"

That earns a little smile from you

You're about to respond when you catch a shiver

You're only down to your undergarments after all, and it's a bit drafty

Ringo notices and before any mention can be made, he sets to work at removing his sweater, eager to make sure you're cared for

It seems to be putting up a bit of a fight, but he manages to come out on top

"Er uh, will this be ok? I know you're fed up with clothes right now, but I don't want you to freeze neither"

He's genuinely concerned about your feelings in the subject, even as he holds the garment out to you

Buuuut... It's cozy and oversized on you, plus it smells comfortingly of him, so you take it

"Hey, that looks better on you then it does me!"

He laughs again, the state of him made a bit more comical by his now frizzed up mop top

You point the issue out to him, grinning yourself, and he shakes it out like a dog

Which, of course, only makes it ten times worse

For the first time that day, you laugh, and it's the most beautiful sound Ringo's ever heard

Feeling a bit better now, Ringo helps you stand and offers you some tea downstairs

You take a few steps, and then stop feeling the draft give rise to some goose bumps all up your legs

"Maybe I should get some pants..."

At the mere suggestion, Ringo looks at you like he has a bright idea and immediately goes to undo his belt

You burst out laughing, and stop him

He's confused at first, but when he realizes his own absurdity in his effort to be helpful, he can't help but laugh a little too

In the end, you come to the conclusion that a blanket and a cuddle on the couch will do nicely instead... Which is exactly what you do

Ringo spends the rest of the day keeping you entertained, warm, and covered in kisses