#and doesn't automatically force me onto the for you page

[didhewinkback]

blessed that right wing leaders have seemingly decided that tumblr is too weird or niche to try to take over. <3

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 6.1k (YIKES)

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: guyssss guys guys guys omg :,) also s2 only has two parts left!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

The air is brisk as it surrounds you in the night, chilling you down to the bone, but with a book in your lap and a blanket draped over your shoulders, you don't mind the cold. Not one bit.

You're reading the same page over and over again- Romeo and Juliet. Act two, scene two. Your monologue. You flip the page, and that's all there is.

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.'

You whisper this, smiling softly to yourself. The grass tickles the undersides of your arms and when you look up, you see the stars. Thousands and thousands of them- more than you could count if you were given a pen and paper and a month to try. It's beautiful.

You lay back into the wild grass, letting it consume you. You can smell it as the long blades brush across your cheeks.

"Y/N?" You freeze at the sound of your name, not that you are really moving. You just hold tight onto the air in your lungs, as if exhaling it could light a beacon to you. Your heartbeat was thrumming in your chest- you were afraid.

"Y/N?" The voice comes again. Coriolanus. He shouldn't be here, he doesn't know where you go at night when you need to end your unfortunate days. Why is he here?

You don't move, eyes wide open as you stare at the sky. Maybe he'll go away, maybe he'll ignore the lantern still burning close enough that you could read under its flame. As if.

"Y/N, you have to go." Now you can hear the grass rustling with every slow step he takes, and he's trying to be quiet. Whispering, as if there was anyone here for miles.

"Go, hide. It's not safe for you out here."

You sit up quickly, scrambling onto your feet. He's close enough now that he's certainly seen you. You get no chance to say anything before you realize you weren't in the field you thought you were. Grass covers the ground of the Capitol arena, and alongside the long green leaves, Coryo's scarf is draping down your side, brushing your legs.

"Coryo?" You say, but you're not looking at him. The compact weighs heavily in the pocket of your dress as you spin around, taking in the dark space. Your lantern flickers out.

"Y/N." He says again, and your eyes snap back to him. His hair is short, buzzed almost down to his scalp like the last time you saw him. "Hide. Now."

"But, I-"

It was too late, and quickened footsteps alerted you to someone else coming.

"Come on, come on!" Coryo grabs you by the wrist quickly, pulling you with him toward the exit glowing red in the night as you abandon your book and blanket.

His hand shifts to hold yours, attempting to force you ahead of himself. You want to look back, but he won't let you. The exit feels miles away. You can't take leave- you don't know why you're running with him. You'll be killed. You'll be killed either way.

You fall through the turnstiles, the mocking automatic voice from the speakers going ignored as you hit the ground. You don't know what you fell onto, you look and there's nothing there, but blood begins to pour from three linear wounds in your leg and a gash on your upper arm.

"Are you okay? Hey, are you okay?" Coryo is in your face now, kneeling in front of you and trying to get you up.

You can't speak, looking past him at the faceless shadow following you. Pushing yourself back against the wall, they glide through the gate and Coryo turns quickly, hands raised. "Wait! Don't! He shouts, but has to duck as they swing something at them.

"Y/N- Run!" He yells at you, but you can't move. You curl up against the wall, burying your face in your knees.

You hear the sharp swing of metal in the air. Once, twice, and you're waiting for an impact that doesn't come until you hear Coryo cry out in pain instead.

You feel the grind of cement next to you as something is lifted from the ground.

"I don't want to hurt you!"

Another swing.

And then a cracking noise, and the turnstile again.

"Enjoy the show!"

You look up then, watching just as the shadow hits the ground across the gate.

"Coryo?" You push yourself up using the wall. He doesn't look back at you, but you can see his shoulders rise and fall with his breaths as he stares at the shadow now sprawled out across the ground.

He swings the club again, the cement block disappearing into the grass with a hard thud.

You don't run.

"Coryo, let's go. Please... let's just go." Your voice comes out small, but he still hears you.

He turns, and you aren't afraid. "Y/N-" He drops the weapon and you take an involuntary step back. You look into his eyes, cleared of the blonde curls he recently buzzed off.

Sky blue. Angry. No- baby blue. Worried.

He's afraid.

"Y/N, wait." He pleads with you, hands clear as he takes a step closer. This time, you let him. "Please don't walk away again."

"What did you say?" You ask, brow furrowed at the familiar statement as you take another step back.

"Please, don't run from me."

When you wake, you feel different. You feel your blood pumping quick through your veins as you stare at the ceiling, the sun peaking in through the curtains like usual, but you feel more sick than scared.

It's a welcome change.

Crawling out of bed, you pull a dress on over your pyjama shorts, deciding that would likely be fine since you didn't plan on leaving the house today. Maybe to go out to the meadow, but with sleep still blurring your vision you weren't ready to make any big decisions like that yet.

You felt guilty about ruining the lake day for everyone. It wasn't a bad panic attack, they did have to jump into action the way they did and try to rush you home, but they had. You can't be upset at them, Lennox and Lucy Gray only wanted to protect you.

You wish Maude Ivory hadn't seen you cry.

The hike back is all you can think about while you make your morning tea.

You watched as Sejanus grabbed Coryo by the arm, pulling him back up and into the cabin and shutting the door behind them.

No one bothered to get you dressed again, the priority just being to get you home. Lucy Gray had helped you get your shoes back on, and Lennox practically lifted you to your feet. You were still shaking, but the tears had lessened and you could breathe again.

"Tam Amber, will you go ask the boys if they remember the way back?" Lucy Gray whispered to her cousin and he nodded, running off the dock.

"You're safe. It's just us here." She reminded you as you watched him hurry away.

"But... But Coryo-" You stammered, suddenly shivering.

"I know, I know, Hun." She wrapped the blanket back around your shoulders. "He's gone. You're okay."

"No, no I-"

You heard Tam Ambers footfalls returning, just as hastily as he had gone. "They remember." He nodded to your friend.

"Okay, will you tell them to wait twenty minutes before following us?" She told him and he nodded again, disappearing once more.

"Lucy Gray, it's, it's okay. I don't think they need to wait." You tried to explain, and she had to lean in to listen to you.

"I know, it's okay." Clearly, she didn't know what you were trying to say. "I promise you they can handle themselves, you don't worry about it." But you weren't worried about them. You wanted them to come.

"E-Every one can master a grief but he that has it." You huff through shaky breaths, frustration at their lack of understanding building in your tone. Why couldn't they see that he was helping you?

Lennox and Lucy Gray look at each other on either side of you, but say nothing.

You looked back at the cabin over your shoulder as your brother and best friend guided you away, the rest of the Covey in tow.

You hadn't seen either of the Capitol boys since.

Coryo walks into Sejanus's room, expecting him to still be sleeping. It's early, the sun just peaking over the mountains, but he's not there. He was out late the night before, so maybe he hadn't come home. He did mention something about possibly staying with Lucy Gray after her show.

They would only be in town for another couple of weeks, he was getting down to the wire of time he had to earn your trust back. He was fucking it up royally, and he wasn't even sure he could go home without any conclusions. He just needed to talk to you, if it was him who was hurting you, and you said the best thing he could do was leave and never look back, he would do it in a heartbeat. He'd never recover, but he'd be willing to do anything to know you were happy. Or at least getting there.

But you hadn't said that. Remembering your conversation at the lake, he didn't feel like all hope was lost. Even if Lucy Gray and Lennox wouldn't let him anywhere near you. He couldn't give up yet.

This is why, in all honesty, he is lucky that Sejanus didn't make it home last night.

He saw his friend writing in a notebook the other day, so he opened the bedside drawer to try and find it. He'll just leave a note saying he's going for a walk, and Sejanus likely won't suspect he's going to go try and talk to you and come stop him. If he even wakes up from his hangover with enough time to find the note and then catch him.

When Coryo opens the drawer, that's not what he finds. Well, it is, and he pulls the pad of paper and pencil out, but his eyes catch on something else. Cash. And lots of it.

He looks over his shoulder at the door before picking it up and picking through it. It must have been in the tens of thousands. Why would Sejanus bring so much money to District Twelve of all places? He wishes he could understand rich kids.

He sits on the bed and opens the notebook, pausing again when he sees some scribbled notes.

'Hob, 10 pm, 08/17

Broken fence, storage shed. 4 am, 08/18

Lennox ?'

Brow furrowed in confusion, Coryo turns the page. Nothing else. No other context clues as to what on earth this could mean. It was meeting places and times. He looks around again as if he could find answers in the walls of the small bedroom.

Nothing.

He quickly shoves the notepad back into the drawer and leaves. Maybe he didn't need to leave a note after all.

Coryo had to move quickly. Collecting yet another peace offering, some kind of treat, and then make it to your house before Sejanus or Lucy Gray can intercept. He does it, but there was still the biggest obstacle yet- your brother. He prays as he knocks that Lennox doesn't open the door.

When there's a knock on the door, you leap from your bench on the back porch, quietly slipping back in the door. You were home alone, only for a few hours while your mom handled some business in town and Lennox went to hang out with some friends. Your mother didn't want to let you, she wanted you to come, but you insisted. You were an adult, you could be home alone for a few hours.

Who on earth would knock on the door right in that window of time?

Sneaking into your parents' bedroom, you peek out of the curtains to try and look at the front door.

No. This is ridiculous.

You force yourself to straighten up, smoothing the front of your dress and taking a deep breath. You're home. You're safe. No one at the door is here to hurt you.

You pace up to the front door just as another quick three knocks ring out. Deep breath. You twist and pull the handle.

"Y/N." Coryo grins, relief washing over him like a wave that only lasts a moment. "Here, these are for you." He holds out a small bouquet of flowers before you get the chance to slam the door in his face.

You can't help the smile that pulls at your lips when you look down at the hand he extends to you.

Butterflies. The very same ones you felt the first time he gifted you a flower.

"Coryo, you don't have to bring me flowers every time you see me." You giggle, and he smiles. The relief is back.

"Well, I'd like to. You deserve nothing less."

You look up through your lashes at him, slightly shaking your head. Your smile doesn't slip as you examine his features, checking his eyes. As blue and clear as the lake you swam in last week. "Would you like to come in?" You offer, unsure of yourself up until the point the words leave your mouth.

"I would love to." Coryo smiles so wide you feel as though your own heart could burst. You're doubting yourself for ever being afraid of him, but as he passes you into the threshold of your home, you remember why. Deep breath.

"You came at a good time." You joke, closing the door behind him and stepping into the kitchen as it's laid out next to the front door.

"Oh?"

"Well, Lennox isn't here to push you down the front steps." You giggle. Maybe you shouldn't be telling him you're home alone. Your heart stops for a beat.

And then he laughs, and everything is okay again as you pull a vase down from atop the fridge, placing it in the sink to rinse off. "That is true." He agrees.

"But, I'll warn you, Tybs is here somewhere. He's always watching." You look at him over your shoulder as you place the flowers down and run the tap into the ceramic vase.

"Noted." Coryo chuckles, looking around his feet to see if the cat had come to say hello.

He watches you as you turn back around to focus on your task. Watching you wash dishes was a privilege he never even considered that he wanted, but now that he had it, he was more certain than ever that he could never let you go.

It was so good to see you have some peace.

"I brought some things for a picnic, I was hoping you could take me to the meadow you told me about. I'd really like to see it." He asks as you dry off the outside of the vase, proceeding to fill it with water.

"I was going to head out there myself, actually. That sounds perfect." He watches your hair move as you nod, popping the flowers into the vase and turning to show him. The smile on your face makes his heart melt. He didn't know that feeling was real.

"How do they look?" You ask, quickly adjusting some.

"Lovely." Coryo grins and your lips pull together, looking back down at the bouquet in your hands.

"Thank you, by the way. I realize I didn't say thank you." You say, carrying the vase out to the living room and he follows while you place it on the coffee table.

"You don't have to." He shakes his head. "To be honest, I didn't even expect you to accept them."

"Oh, would you like them back?" You ask, worried.

That's not what he meant, you were just too sweet. "No, I picked them for you."

"Would you tell me if you did want them back?" You ask, wiping your hands off from stray water on the front of your dress.

"Probably not." He admits with a smile that matches yours, shaking his head. "I suppose you'll just have to trust me."

"Here we are!" You grin, flipping out the quilt you brought from your room for the two of you to sit on.

Coryo looks around. It's a big open field, with trees and hills in the distance. He did imagine it would be beautiful at night like you said, but he never thought that during the day it would be as much of a sight. After years and years of coming to this exact spot, the grass is shorter here. Already conditioned to not grow where this family could come and sit during the days and nights of your childhood- you had built the perfect little spot to lay down a sheet.

You're already sitting down cross-legged on the hand-sewn material when he looks at you again. "Thoughts?" You ask, tipping your head up at him. "You look like you're thinkin'."

"Yeah, yeah. It's beautiful. This isn't what I pictured."

"No?" You ask as he sits down next to you, adjusting on the blanket and placing his bag on the corner.

"No. Nothing like this." He answers. "It's much bigger."

You giggle, looking around. "So you understand what I was missing, then."

"Yeah." He breathes the word out with a slight nod, but he's still staring at you even as he pulls everything out of his bag. Some cookies, and the book.

"So," You start with a smile, and he looks up at you. You look down at the book, your train of thought completely leaving you when you see it. "You brought it..." You mumble, reaching out to touch the cover.

He lifts it to hand it to you, but you quickly pull your hand away as if the book could bite. You look between him and the leather-bound book in his hand, cheeks flushing. "I-I don't, I'm sorry. I don't know why..." You laugh awkwardly, looking instead out to the woods that surround you.

Your trauma had consistently manifested in the strangest of ways. That book had done nothing to hurt you, you knew that, but it did remind you of the nights and days you spent reading it before the games when Coryo was locked away in the hospital. The memory almost makes you sick.

"Don't be." Coryo shakes his head at you. "I get it." He puts it down on the other side of himself, just out of your view. "I just... I know you usually read out here. So I wanted to bring a book too. It's the only one I have here."

You smile nervously and nod. "I'm glad you like it." You look over your shoulder when you hear a soft 'meow' from within the grass. "Someone followed us."

You let out a soft gasp, smiling as your cat emerges from the tall blades next to you. They were only about knee height to you, but they completely swallowed his small form. "Tybs!" You grin, opening your arms to him and he crawls straight into your lap. "Good King of Cats, there you are." You scoop him up, kissing him on his fluffy head.

"Y/N," Coryo says, drawing your attention again. You hum, face still pressed into Tybalt's fur as you hug him. "I... I was hoping we could talk about some things, if you feel safe enough. I know with just me it's scary but there's some things I really need to tell you before I have to leave and no one will let me talk to you, so now feels like my only chance."

"Okay." You nod, lowering Tybs down onto your lap again, holding him close. "But... I just, I don't want you to have to deal with me if I... I don't know, panic. I can't promise you I won't, and it's embarrassing."

"That's okay." He assures you, scanning your face closely even as you avoid his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, so if you can't talk about it it's totally okay. I can try my best to say what I need to say without scaring you."

"No, no I... There's stuff I have to say to you too." You confess to him. "I just, it is so frustrating to not be able to talk about anything without feeling like... I can't communicate what I need to say. Or like I'm dying."

Coryo nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I'll be as patient as you need me to be." He promises. "I can't imagine what that's like for you." He adds, almost whispering. You have always expressed yourself so eloquently through words, and in a way, the games, he has taken that from you.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod, focussing on petting your cat. You can feel the vibrations of his purring against your body, and that helps already.

"It's hard." You admit quietly. "I still sometimes feel like no one wants to listen to me when I can talk about what happened. It's always the same thing." You shake your head, letting out a slight laugh. "Do you know how many times I've heard 'You're safe now'? Or 'you're home now. It's okay'? Because it's a lot. And I know that. I know they're just trying to help, but... It's more complicated than that."

"There's no guidebook on living with this stuff." Coryo agrees. "That's what your father told me."

"He's right." You mumble. "No one knows what to do, Twelve has never had a Victor before. I'm lucky number one, and it feels like nobody sees me as human anymore. Not even Lucy Gray. Not even my family."

"I do."

You smile sadly at him. "Coryo, I..." You sigh, shaking your head and grounding yourself in feeling Tybalt rub his head against your palm, begging to be pet. "Is this real?"

He furrows his brow slightly with confusion.

"I mean, I don't-" You sigh. "I feel like I am being so daft but Sejanus says he thought you actually cared about me but that was back in the Capitol so I just need you to be honest with me."

"Y/N..." He shakes his head at you, fully in disbelief. "I have never lied to you. I don't think I could even if I wanted to."

"No, not- not like that." You sigh, shaking your head. "I mean, the way you acted. The things you did- I feel like I don't know who you really are."

"You know me. Better than anyone." He assures you, voice soft with sincerity. He doesn't want to be offended, but he'd still like to understand.

"You said... you said you wanted to start over." You say after a moment, looking into his eyes and loosening your grip on your cat as he adjusts the way he's laying over your bare legs. "So... can we?"

Coryo smiles, giving you a quick nod. "My name is Coriolanus Snow." He starts, and he can see how closely you're watching him, a small smile growing on your lips. That's not exactly what you meant, and he knew it. "But you can call me Coryo. That's what my friends call me."

How could he miss the apples of your cheeks turning slightly pink under the sun?

"I was born and raised in the Capitol, and I'm an orphan. My mother died in childbirth, and my sister didn't make it. My father died here, in Twelve. I live with my cousin, Tigris, and our Grandma'am, and my whole life I have been starving." He admits, swallowing as he monitors your reaction closely. Sadness. Empathy. "One time, during the war, I even ate a jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach." He smiles as he says it, it's meant to be funny- to try and keep you with him as he speaks.

He raises an eyebrow at you as you can't help but giggle. "I'm sorry, that must have been awful."

"It was certainly... pasty." He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. "But then, the moment I first laid eyes on you and was told you would be my tribute, I knew that everything was going to change."

You think back to the reaping, and how he must have watched. One of many memories that haunted you now doesn't seem all that scary, knowing he was with you even then.

"I was angry, I knew Highbottom was trying to sabotage me- to give me no chance at winning the prize but I didn't know that the universe was just bringing me to you."

"Coriolanus." You grin, tilting your head at him. "It's a pleasure to meet you again."

"Did you know that I was named after a play?" He asks, a teasing smile pulling at his lips knowing that the only reason he knew that was because of you.

"Oh? What's it about?" You humour him, and he chuckles shaking his head at you.

"Well, it's a long story, really, but it's about a man in ancient Rome who gets put in a position of power, and makes some pretty big mistakes." He quotes as much of what he can remember you telling him. "Then the people of the city hated him, and he was cast out because he betrayed people who trusted him."

You don't say anything, hanging on every word of his interpretation.

"And sometimes I feel like it's a fitting name." He continues, voice lowering with seriousness now. "But I don't think I am like him, because I regretted my mistakes the moment I made them. And I think that if he was more like me, and had someone who made him want to be a good man, his story wouldn't have ended too tragically."

You feel the telltale burn of tears brimming your eyes, and Coryo watches you closely. Your breathing is steady, the ghost of a smile still on your lips.

"Are you okay?" He asks quietly, reaching up to push your hair from where a piece is beginning to fall into your eyes. He's careful not to move too quickly, or even to touch your skin.

You nod, briefly drawing your lip in between your teeth while you think. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

Coryo smiles, almost in disbelief. "You forgive me, then?"

"I'm a Victor." You state, although your whisper sucks almost all the confidence out of your voice as you focus on Tybalt purring against your lap. "If I expect forgiveness in return I need to give it, don't I?"

"You don't need forgiveness from anyone." He insists, smile fading. "You didn't do a single thing wrong."

"I think I did." You admit, lip beginning to wobble as you try and remember, looking down at your cat and stroking his back almost obsessively. "I should have gone back for Wovey, I should have stayed with Jessup, and... and I think I killed those boys, Coryo. I haven't told a soul and it's been killing me."

When you look back up at the boy next to you, his heart breaks. You hadn't done anything wrong; you even tried your best to be a pacifist when thrown into the Hunger Games, of all things, and still, you found things to blame yourself for. "Do you remember what I told you?" He asks, very slowly and carefully reaching out to swipe away a tear from your cheek. "That we all do things we aren't proud of to survive. That doesn't make you a wicked person."

"Is it true?" You ask, resisting your gut and it wanting you to lean into his touch. "That... that I killed them?"

"No." He answers. "I did. I gave you the compact."

"But I used it."

"You had no choice." He reminds you. "That was my fault, and I'll take the blame for it but I won't lie and tell you that I regret it."

You take a sharp breath in. His eyes. Look at his eyes.

"I did it to save you, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I couldn't live with myself if I let you die. You saved my life first, and you could have ran but you didn't." He wouldn't let you beat yourself up about something that was his fault. "You could have saved yourself, but you gave up that chance for me. I couldn't let you die. It would be such a waste for the world to lose a girl like you."

"Coryo... That's not right." You say, shaking your head. The way your face fell made him nervous. "You can't tell me you did it for me. That is not as noble as you feel like it is."

He felt stupid for telling you that, despite its truth. You wouldn't like it, he knew that. "I know, but I don't want to keep anything from you. I have to tell you why I did the things I did, I have to get you to trust me again. I'd speak every thought I'll ever have if that's what it takes."

You take a shaky breath. "What about when you killed Bobbin?" It took you a moment to even get the words to leave your mouth- and he waited all the while. Powder blue. Patient.

"I... okay." Coryo nods to himself. "I was scared, I didn't want to do it. Sejanus was injured, I remember realizing he couldn't walk. I tried to talk to the boy, but he wouldn't listen..." He trails off, not daring to break eye contact with you. "I felt... desperate. I was panicking, and then... powerful. That's the only way I can describe it. That I wasn't helpless anymore, the way I always had been."

His words are terrifying to you, but you can't look away as you tuck Tybalt closer to your chest. He's stopped purring, but he's breathing against you, craning into your touch. It's actively keeping you grounded through your fear.

"Then I looked at you," Coryo continues. "And I thought that I should have let him kill me instead, because maybe that would have hurt you less."

You swallow the anxiety sitting heavy and thick in the back of your throat. If it was you, you would have thought 'Yes. I should die before taking the life of another,' but since it was Coryo, your gut reaction was telling you to say no; to reassure him that he was only protecting himself and it was scary but he had done the right thing. The realization that he outweighed your own morals and the fact that as much as you wanted to say that, you weren't sure you would stick to it yourself now was a sick combination of things to grapple with all at once.

"Stop, please." You say quietly, feeling your heartbeat picking up just behind your ears. You don't even notice when you had looked away, but your eyes are shut tight.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop." Coryo quickly promises. "But I need you to look at me, okay? Can you do that?"

When you don't immediately respond, he takes the calculated risk of rubbing your back. It didn't scare you last time, it almost seemed to help for the brief moment you were able to look at him.

"I'm sorry." You say quickly, voice cracking.

"Don't be." He says softly, feeling how quickly you're breathing with the hand he has so delicately placed on your back.

It almost makes him cry, too, not knowing what to do to help. It was his fault, again, and this time there was no Lucy Gray or Lennox to come running. He looks around anyway as you cling to the cat in your lap. Tybalt. Quickly, he looks down to the book at his side.

"Oh sweet Juliet," He says, no better ideas surfacing on how to help you. He would make a fool out of himself if he must, but he had to try. "Thy beauty has made me effeminate, and in my temper softened... valor's steel." He tries to remember, and prays that he remembered it correctly.

Under his hand he feels you shake, and he tries to catch your eyes again. It takes him a moment to realize that you weren't crying harder- he hadn't made it all worse again. You were laughing.

He grins, chuckling slightly. "There she is, hey, hey... Look at me."

You turn your head, your smile already mostly gone by the time your eyes reach his.

"I don't remember it, can you refresh me?" He asks, trying to give you an adequate distraction.

"That... that scene? Uh-" Your mind is short-circuiting, running a million miles a minute to try and remember more details. What came before, what came after?

"Anything. Any part you want."

"Okay. Okay..." You nod, trying as best you can to take a deep breath. "Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night. Give me my Romeo, and, when I shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night..."

Just like at your interview, Coryo watches your anxiety begin to melt away as you recite every line. Something about it was so calming to you. It forced you to focus on something other than the tightness in your chest and the tremor of your hands.

"Atta girl..." Coryo nods, proud as he keeps rubbing your back. "Are you feeling a little better? Do you want some water?"

"I- I can get it." You nod quickly, reaching for the bag and digging for your water bottle, careful to not disturb the cat on your lap.

"I'm sorry." He says, withdrawing his hand so you can drink in peace. "I hate that the games have done this to you..."

You seal up the bottle again, wiping your lips on your wrist and shaking your head. "No one can come out of that unchanged, but... let's talk about something else, please."

"I just... I hope you know how much I truly care for you. That's real. That will always be real." Coryo promises, allowing you to put the bottle down before taking your hand.

His hands are slightly cold against the one of yours he is holding, and you attribute that to your no doubt increased blood pressure. There's nothing but pure, undiluted honesty in his eyes.

"I read your note." He continues, wanting to explain but you look away quickly, letting out a slight laugh. He's never seen your face so red.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said the things I did. It was foolish and I was feeling so confident knowing that that day very well may have been my last and-"

"It wasn't foolish." Coryo smiles slightly, moving so he can look in your eyes again. "It was sweet, and all this time I have been dying to tell you that I love you. I do." The confession has his heart pounding as if he were the one who is still coming down from a panic attack.

For the first time maybe in your whole life, you were speechless. It didn't feel like all the love stories you had read in books that made your heart flip the way it just had- it was more. It was your story, and no quote felt quite fitting to describe your own feelings. They were all yours.

"Is that... is that okay? I don't want to scare you but-" Coryo doesn't even get the chance to finish before your lips are against his.

You are kissing him. You're real, you're alive, and he is finally getting that second kiss that he never thought he would have. You were still his.

Your cat had long abandoned his post on your lap by the time Coryo processed this and moved his hands up to grasp your cheeks. He's as gentle as he possibly can be, he knows he's being somewhat irrational to imagine you just vanishing from his hold like you had consistently done in his dreams. This wasn't that; your lips against his, your unbelievably soft skin under his hands.

"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." You mumble against his lips, having finally found something close enough to express it.

This was real, you were there, and Coriolanus would never let you walk away again.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[kikikeeks]

HOLD ON

CHAPTER THREE - KEVYN

Pairing: Natalie Scatorccio x Isabel Taylor (oc)

Summary: Natalie makes a new friend.

Word Count: 2949

A/N: Chapter Three yayyy!!! I hope you guys are enjoying! This is a bit of a longer chapter. Feel free to send me an ask if you have any ideas or questions about the fic!! Anyways happy reading!!

ao3 | Masterlist | Main Navigation

Previous Chapter

1991 - Late 7th Grade

The cafeteria was loud.

Trays slammed onto tables, sixth graders were tossing bits of sandwich at each other, and someone was yelling way too loud over the noise.

Isabel pushed the peas around her plate with her fork, barely paying attention to anything around her.

She didn't even notice Natalie making her way over until she dropped a brown paper bag onto the table with a thud.

"Bleach is not better than Nevermind."

A guy Isabel had never seen before dropped into the seat beside Natalie with a groan.

"Oh my God, yes, it is!"

Isabel blinked, confused, looking over to Natalie for some kind of explanation as to who the guy was.

“Oh, right,” Natalie said, like she’d just remembered. “This is Kevyn. He just moved here.”

Kevyn offered a wave, "Hey."

Isabel stared at him for a second, then turned back to Natalie, who took a bite of her apple, acting like Kevyn sitting with them was totally normal.

A second later, Van showed up, tray in hand, sliding into the seat next to Isabel, raising an eyebrow at Kevyn.

"New guy?" Van asked.

Isabel nodded.

Still caught up in her argument with Kevyn, Natalie barely looked up as she gestured in their direction. "Kevyn, this is Isabel and Van."

Kevyn didn’t really acknowledge them. He just gave them a quick nod and kept talking.

Van shot Isabel a look that clearly said, Wow. Rude.

Isabel just shrugged. She wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, and it was clear Natalie wasn’t about to give any more of an explanation.

"Nevermind is fine," Kevyn continued, "but Bleach? That's real music. Nevermind sounds too mainstream."

Oh. He was one of those guys.

Great.

Natalie rolled her eyes, "that doesn't automatically make it better."

"It kinda does." Kevyn retorted.

Isabel chewed on her juice box straw, watching the interaction.

She was used to Natalie arguing about music. Usually, it was with her, not some guy she barely knew.

Isabel sighed, returning to her lunch.

Ten minutes later, Kevyn was still talking about "real music," and Isabel had had enough.

"Dude, we get it."

Kevyn stopped ranting and looked over at her.

"What? You don't like Nirvana?"

"No."

Natalie snorted. "Izzie, you like some songs; you said you like Something In The Way."

"Really?" Kevyn asked, intrigued.

Isabel shrugged. "It's nice, I guess."

Kevyn seemed pleased enough with the answer.

"Good pick," he said, turning back to Natalie, "Anyway.."

Isabel rolled her eyes and went back to picking at her food.

Natalie kicked Isabel's leg.

"Ow, Nat!" Isabel groaned.

"Izzie likes music too," Natalie told Kevyn, ignoring Isabel's glare from across the table.

Kevyn glanced over at her again.

"Yeah? Like what?"

Isabel shrugged, "Fleetwood Mac-"

"Fleetwood Mac? Seriously?" Kevyn interrupted, pulling a face.

Isabel frowned.

"Yeah."

Kevyn groaned. "Dude, that’s like… mom music."

Isabel didn't know how to respond.

"Did your Mom get you into them or something?"

Isabel froze.

"No, she didn't." She mumbled, gripping her fork tighter.

Van was still eating, quietly watching the interaction.

Kevyn hadn't noticed.

"But hey, it’s none of my business if you like grocery store music," he shrugged.

Natalie nudged her foot under the table. "You good?"

Isabel nodded, shoving food into her mouth. "Mhm."

Van gave Isabel a look that said I know you're lying.

Natalie didn't look convinced either.

"You sure?"

Isabel forced a smile.

"I'm fine, Nat."

*    *    *

Isabel wasn’t getting any work done. Her math book had been open on the same page for an hour.

She tapped her pencil on her desk, staring at the stupid problem.

Simplify the expression: 3(2x + 4) - 5x =

Isabel hated math. She didn't see the point, and numbers just confused her.

She sighed, got up, slammed her math book shut, and walked out of her room, heading straight into Jackie’s without knocking.

Jackie didn't even look up. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, flipping through a magazine.

Isabel flopped onto the bed face first and sighed dramatically into the comforter.

"Your room too boring?" Jackie asked, unbothered.

"Mhm."

It was quiet for a while as Jackie finished reading the section she was on.

"Why aren't you hanging out with Natalie today?" Jackie asked, flipping the magazine closed and putting it down on her nightstand.

Isabel made a noise that wasn't really a word.

Jackie nudged her with her foot.

"Words, Izzie."

Isabel sighed, rolling over onto her back.

"She’s probably with Kevyn," Isabel muttered.

Jackie leaned back against the pillows, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Is he the new kid?"

"Yeah."

She glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "What's he like?"

Isabel frowned.

"Annoying."

Jackie snorted. "You think everyone is annoying."

"Not everyone," Isabel said, reaching over to grab the magazine Jackie had just set on her nightstand. "Just people who suck."

Jackie rolled her eyes, snatching the magazine back.

"What did he do?"

She thought about it for a second, then sighed.

"He acts like I'm not even there unless Natalie drags me into their conversation."

Jackie nodded. "Okay… yeah, that’s annoying."

"He just showed up out of nowhere the other day and started acting like he and Natalie have been best friends forever," Isabel grumbled. "He never shuts up, and he thinks he knows everything about music just 'cause he read one interview or something."

"Tragic."

"And when he sits with us, he only talks to Nat, like she’s the only person there," Isabel continued, ignoring Jackie. "And even when Van sits with us, he won’t even look at me or her unless he’s trying to sound cooler than us or whatever."

Jackie looked at her for a moment, then shrugged.

"Maybe he has a crush on her."

Isabel huffed. "If he does, maybe he should actually try talking to her friends."

She paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "Van was never that rude."

Jackie glanced at her curiously.

"What do you mean?"

Isabel shrugged, sitting up. "When Natalie introduced me to Van, she actually talked to me." She picked at a loose thread on her jeans. "Like she actually wanted to get to know me. She never acted like I wasn’t there."

Jackie thought about that for a moment before saying, "Maybe he just sucks at making friends."

"Maybe he just sucks."

Jackie grinned.

"Probably."

Isabel shuffled back to lean against the pillows.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something important, she said, "Oh- and he called Fleetwood Mac 'Mom Music.'"

Jackie raised an eyebrow.

"He what?"

"He called Fleetwood Mac ‘Mom Music,’" Isabel repeated, crossing her arms. 

Jackie frowned. "And he knew you liked them?"

"Yeah."

Jackie made a face. “Wow. Rude.”

"Thank you!" Isabel huffed.

Jackie flopped back against her pillows, turning to face her sister. "So, are you gonna tell Natalie her new friend sucks?"

"I can't tell her that."

"Why not?" Jackie asked, frowning.

Isabel rolled her eyes. "Because she likes him."

Jackie considered that for a second, then shrugged, grinning. "Well… sucks for you, I guess."

Isabel kicked her.

"Ow!" Jackie laughed.

She nudged Isabel back with her foot, still grinning.

"You'll figure it out."

Isabel sighed but didn't argue.

"Yeah… I guess."

*    *    *

The hallway was crowded with kids shoving past each other, lockers slamming, and everyone talking over each other as they grabbed their books for the next class.

Isabel had math next with Natalie, but unfortunately, so did Kevyn.

Isabel walked behind them, staying quiet. She didn't really want to deal with Kevyn’s stupid comments today.

They were talking about music again, some band she didn't know the name of. She wasn’t really paying attention.

"What, no opinion?" Kevyn asked, glancing back at her with a smirk.

Natalie cut in before she could respond.

"Izzie doesn't really like them."

Kevyn snorted, "of course she doesn't."

Isabel sighed. She really wasn’t in the mood for this.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Natalie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kevyn shrugged. “Nothing. Some people just only like music that’s mainstream.”

If he said mainstream one more time, Isabel swore she was going to hit him. Instead, she just kept walking. There wasn’t a point in responding.

Natalie frowned, "that's not true. Izzie likes-"

Kevyn cut her off before she could finish. "Whatever's playing on the radio?"

Isabel stopped walking. Maybe if she stood here long enough, they’d get far enough ahead that she wouldn’t have to listen to Kevyn talk anymore.

Natalie walked a few more steps before realizing Isabel wasn’t with them. She turned back, looking concerned.

"Izzie?"

Isabel didn't respond.

Kevyn hadn't noticed. He was already talking about something new.

Natalie walked back to where Isabel was, grabbing her hand and pulling her along with them.

"You good?" she asked.

Isabel forced a smile, "yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Natalie didn't look convinced but turned back to Kevyn, still holding Isabel's hand.

Kevyn still hadn't noticed.

*    *    *

As soon as class ended for lunch, Isabel went straight to find Van.

She’d had enough of Kevyn rambling about 'real music' for one day.

The moment she spotted Van, she didn’t waste any time. “You wanna sit somewhere else today?”

Van glanced over at their usual table. Kevyn already seemed to be ranting about something.

Van nodded.

"Yeah."

They found a table on the other side of the cafeteria.

Van stabbed her straw into her juice box. "If he says 'actually' one more time, I’m throwing this at his head."

Isabel snorted, "I swear he acts like he invented music."

Van rolled her eyes. "I mean, I knew he was one of those guys, but I didn't think he'd be this bad."

"He's worse than bad." Isabel grumbled, taking a bite out of her sandwich. "You know what really annoyed me today though?"

Van raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"When Nat told him I didn't like the band they were talking about, he said, 'Some people only like music that's mainstream.'"

Van rolled her eyes. "Oh, because liking mainstream music is such a crime."

Isabel picked at her sandwich. "And when Nat tried to tell him what music I actually like, he just cut her off!"

"Wow. What a jerk." Van took a sip of her juice. "No wonder you ditched."

Then, after a moment, she said, “Have you ever noticed how weird he gets when Natalie says she’s been at your house?”

Isabel frowned. “What do you mean?”

Van shrugged. "On Wednesday, Nat mentioned she hadn’t been home all week, and when she said she’d been staying at your place, he got all weird about it."

Isabel huffed, "That's none of his business anyway. Why does he care if she sleeps at mine?"

"Exactly!" Van agreed, "It's so strange."

Isabel thought for a moment before saying, "Jackie thinks he has a crush on Nat."

Van grinned, "oh my god, that makes so much sense!"

Isabel let out a laugh.

Van snorted, "no wonder he keeps trying to act cool around her."

"Yeah, well, he just looks dumb." Isabel said, taking another bite of her sandwich.

It was quiet for a while as they ate their food.

Isabel finished her sandwich and then turned to Van.

"What's your excuse for avoiding him?"

Van shrugged, "he's annoying."

Isabel grinned, "Yeah, he is."

Van took a sip of her juice. “So, are we ditching him again tomorrow?”

Isabel hesitated. “I don’t know....”

Van gave her a look. “Izzie.”

Isabel sighed. “I don’t wanna stop sitting with Nat.”

Van nodded like she already knew that.

They both glanced over at their usual table. Kevyn was still talking, his hands waving like he was explaining the secrets of the universe.

Van smirked. “Maybe he’ll sit somewhere else.”

Isabel let out a laugh. “Yeah, in my dreams.”

*    *    *

Isabel pushed through the crowd, heading straight for Natalie’s locker. She just wanted to find her so they could leave.

She heard him before she even saw him.

Natalie and Kevyn were standing by Natalie's locker, laughing about something.

Isabel walked up to Natalie, grabbing her hand, silently letting her know she was ready to leave.

Kevyn glanced at her, "Oh, your shadow's here." he laughed.

Isabel’s fists tightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, still grinning. “You’re always right behind Nat. Y'know, like a shadow. It’s kinda funny.”

Isabel just glared at him.

“I just don’t get it.” Kevyn continued.

“What don’t you get?” Isabel asked, crossing her arms.

“Why you’re always here.” He smirked. “Don’t you have any other friends?”

Natalie rolled her eyes, "Kev, knock it off."

Kevyn ignored her, still focused on Isabel.

“I mean, I know you two have been friends forever, but do you, like, not have your own thing?”

Well, Isabel thought, maybe if you actually tried to get to know me, you’d know.

“It’s just kinda weird, y’know,” Kevyn continued with a shrug. “When I hang out with Nat, we talk about music. What do you guys even talk about?”

Isabel’s jaw clenched.

“Yeah?” she said sharply. “Well, you know what I find weird? You acting like you actually matter.”

Kevyn scoffed, "Jesus, what's your problem?"

Natalie shifted slightly, glancing between them, "guys, can we not do this right now."

Kevyn ignored her again.

"No, really. What's your problem?" he asked. I get you don't like me or whatever, but Nat is allowed to have other friends, you know."

Isabel rolled her eyes, "Obviously. That’s why I’ve been listening to you talk for weeks."

Kevyn laughed, shaking his head. "Oh my God, you're seriously mad that I hang out with her? That’s pretty sad, dude."

"Pretty sad?" Isabel repeated, narrowing her eyes, "What’s actually sad is how you think knowing three bands makes you an expert on music."

Kevyn’s smirk faltered, only for a second. "At least I don’t need Nat to hold my hand all the time."

Natalie tensed.

Isabel rolled her eyes. "Right, because that would actually require someone actually wanting to hold your hand."

"Well, at least I'm not some clingy freak who can't take a hint!" Kevyn shot back.

Natalie’s face fell. "Kev-"

Before Isabel could even think about what she was doing, she lunged at him.

"Izzie, don't-" Natalie protested, grabbing her arm, yanking her back before she could push him.

Isabel froze, Natalie still holding onto her arm.

Kevyn looked shocked.

"Jesus, you're crazy."

Isabel blinked, straightened, and shook off Natalie's grip. Then, she smiled.

"At least I'm not a loser who thinks liking Nirvana makes him better than everyone else."

Kevyn’s face hardened, but Isabel didn’t give him a chance to respond. She just shot him a glare before walking away without another word.

She wasn’t going to wait for Natalie, not if Kevyn was going to be with her.

Natalie was still frozen, watching Isabel disappear down the hall.

Kevyn turned to her, grinning like he had just won a prize.

"See what I mean? She's-"

But Natalie didn’t let him finish. She turned to him, face serious.

"Don’t talk to her like that again."

Kevyn blinked, looking confused.

She didn’t wait for a response. She just turned and followed Isabel, leaving Kevyn standing alone, for once, completely speechless.

*    *    *

The parking lot was still busy.

Isabel wiped a tear from her cheek. She was still upset, not just at Kevyn but at everything.

Natalie finally caught up with her, reaching for her arm.

"Hey," she said softly, "are you okay?"

Isabel stopped walking, just for a second. She pulled her arm back, turning to face Natalie.

"I don't know Nat. Stop pretending you care."

Natalie's face fell, "are you serious?"

Isabel didn't respond. She just started walking away again, arms crossed tightly.

"That's not fair, Izzie!" Natalie called, chasing after her, "You know I care."

Isabel just shook her head, wiping another tear from her cheek.

"Just forget it."

"No." Natalie said firmly, grabbing Isabel's arm to keep her from walking away again. "Tell me what's wrong."

Isabel scoffed, "Like you don't already know."

Natalie sighed, frustrated. " I don't know Izzie. I get that you don't like Kevyn, I get that he annoys you, but you act like he's ruining your life."

Isabel let out a shaky laugh. "He acts like I don’t even exist, Nat!"

Natalie frowned. "What?"

Isabel sighed, shaking her head and pulling her arm back. "Every time he sits with us, he never talks to me unless it’s to make some stupid comment about how bad my taste is or to act like I follow you around!" her voice wavered. "And you- you just let him!"

"Iz-," Natalie reached for her hand, but Isabel moved away, wiping at her cheeks again.

"And you don't talk to me anymore," Isabel said quietly, biting back more tears.

Natalie blinked, confused.

"That's not true."

"Yeah?" Isabel asked, "When's the last time you actually told me anything?"

Natalie frowned, "Izzie, I have been at your house all week, and we hang out every day at school-"

"you spend the whole time talking to Kevyn about Nirvana like I'm not even there!"

Natalie crossed her arms defensively. "Isabel, you don't even like Nirvana."

Isabel hesitated for a moment before she mumbled, "Yeah… but you do."

Natalie’s expression softened.

Isabel looked away. "You used to tell me everything, even the stuff I wasn't interested in."

"Izzie.."

Isabel looked back at Natalie.

Natalie sighed, "I didn't mean to. I just... I figured, y'know, you don't like the same stuff."

Isabel shrugged, "I like you."

Natalie exhaled. She really hadn't meant to stop telling Isabel things.

"Okay," she said, "I'll tell you next time, even if you think it's dumb."

"It is dumb," Isabel said with a teasing smile.

Natalie grinned, taking her hand. "Yeah, well, so are you."

She squeezed Isabel's hand, pulling her along.

"C'mon, let's go."

[blueskittlesart]

Question abt drawing: been trying to attempt learning how to draw forever but I always have trouble getting over the obstacle of having to learn/study things like anatomy and shading, which then causes me to stop drawing and have a harder time picking it back up. I know it's important for improving your art and yourself as an artist but I can't help but see it as tedious and overwhelming, especially the anatomy since it's more on the science side of things and science is not my thing lol. Do you have any advice on how to get over it or work thru it?

i think there's a couple facets to this question. firstly i'd recommend you consider what exactly your end goal is in learning how to draw: do you specifically want to be able to produce anatomically accurate figures and true-to-life shading, or do you just want to be able to make something for fun that looks good to you? one of the most helpful things I ever learned at art school was that accuracy doesn't matter if it looks good. 99% of my art isn't strictly anatomically accurate, and part of that is stylization, but even when i'm doing realistic figure drawings i like to lengthen limbs and exaggerate curves in order to make my drawings look better. So if your only real goal with art is to make something that looks good and enjoy the process, my first piece of advice would be to stop worrying so much about stuff like perfect accuracy! if you use references and keep pushing yourself, the skill and understanding you're looking for will come naturally with time. before I was ever classically trained, I got pretty far just by drawing my favorite characters in different poses and situations over and over again, and that experience laid the groundwork for when classical training did become available to me. Just because you're not necessarily doing serious figure studies doesn't mean you're not getting valuable practice--what it means is that you're having FUN while you're practicing, and having fun with your art is the most important thing!!!

Secondly, you mentioned anatomy being on the science side of things, which suggests to me that you may be looking in the wrong places when trying to do more serious anatomical study. if you look up 'anatomy' or anything similar on a web search engine, you're likely going to get a lot of very complex scientific illustrations. and while those aren't necessarily devoid of artistic value (I took a class all about scientific anatomy for artists last semester and it was GREAT) for a beginner who's just trying to learn how to make a body look like a body, they're not what you're looking for. what is going to be much more helpful for you are sites like line of action or quickposes. these sites are basically repositories of figure drawing images, and you can set them to automatically switch to a new image after a certain interval of time. if you really, desperately want to improve your anatomy specifically, what I recommend is going to one of these sites, setting it to the shortest interval possible, and trying to copy the pose as closely as you can before time is up. this might sound crazy, since the shortest interval is usually somewhere between 30-60 seconds, which obviously isn't enough to get much down. but what this will do is force you to look at how these models' bodies are constructed and translate it onto the page quickly and without overthinking it. be warned, your first maybe hundred of these are going to look like shit. but if you do this enough, you're eventually going to gain an intrinsic sense for 1. how a body works and 2. the easiest way for you personally to construct a body when drawing it. even without knowing the scientific names and anatomical rules, you're going to get a FEEL for how things work, which is much more important and useful to you as a character artist.

Finally, i think the most important thing to remember is that no art is bad art, even if you're not satisfied with the end product. when you're first starting out as an artist, you're going to make things that don't look right and you're going to be frustrated with yourself because of it. i vividly remember crying over a sketchbook at maybe age 11 or 12 because I was so upset i couldn't put exactly what was in my head on the page. Skill comes with time and practice and that is a frustrating fact of life, but no time spent doing something you enjoy and are passionate about is wasted. It might look bad now but you are laying the groundwork for your future success, and someday you're probably going to look back on your past work and say "I can't believe I thought this looked bad back then. for my age and my skill level i was doing AMAZING." And as previously mentioned, it's a lot less discouraging when something looks bad if you had fun making it, so try to have FUN with your art. draw things you enjoy and are passionate about and don't worry if it looks bad. focus on the experience, the skill will come in time. you've got this!!

[discjude]

What are your reasons for liking Japeth and hating Rhian II? I'm just curious because Japeth seems to be a hated character in general.

So i pasted what i wrote before into a google doc and it was over a page long so here is a very condensed version, including my original preface. there’s also a tldr at the end if you don't have half an hour

quick preface just in case people get mad at me for this (dovesso stans are gonna hate me after this one):: I am not trying to convince anyone of anything here,,, this is entirely my opinion and I'm absolutely not trying to insult anyone that doesn't like japeth!! I completely respect it if you like rhian, there's a lot of good reasons to like him and as I'm writing this I realise I don't hate him as much as I thought I did. once again this is my opinion and it's alright if you disagree :)))

My reasons for liking Japeth mostly come from how complex his character is and what role he serves in the story. Though rhian is also very complex and i’m a very big fan of him being everything tedros isn’t as a king, liking japeth is mutually exclusive to liking rhian. Other than that, my two other solid reasons for disliking rhian is the way he treats kei (neglecting everyone else who tries to get close to you because you’re prophesied to marry Sophie? Dick move bro) and the fact that he’s ever so slightly homophobic which is neither here or there

Every other reason comes from me liking japeth, which is because::

1) japeth is very very complex and mostly very well written. Chapters like flesh and blood are very clear on what he’s got going on emotionally, he’s got a very solid motivation, and if you’re really looking for it he’s a clear parallel to Rafal. If you have read any of my other posts you will know i am a sucker for parallels

2) also speaking narratively, i think him being the culmination of every other villain in the series is Very Clever!! He’s evelyn and rafal’s child, rhian’s brother, a parallel to sophie and yknow the other one!! It’s very important to me

3) (this is the big one) i think he’s quite misunderstood and i don’t think a lot of his actions were his fault??? Obviously there’s some unforgivable stuff (if you saw what soman posted last week on tiktok you know) and he’s genuinely quite insane by book 6 but it’s made clear in chapters like Rhian and the Real Thing that there is Some Shit Wrong with him, notably issues with anger and becoming too attached to people. Sort of leading on from this, I don’t think that he’s the one solely to blame for his involvement in Camelot years: i think the two main villains of the last half of the series are Evelyn Sader and Aric. 

I Do Not Like Aric and I believe he’s almost entirely responsible for Japeth’s actions: because of Japeth’s over-attachment to him, he internalises a lot of Aric’s beliefs (the misogyny and only referring to them as “friends” are my best examples) and this ultimately leads to some sort of dependency, which kinda fucks japeth up a lot when aric dies.

Similarly the same sort of thing happens with evelyn and rhian. Evelyn forces a lot of prophecies onto Rhian, and that led to his delusions about becoming king which ostracised him from his brother and gives him this idea that anyone who stops him from being king is automatically wrong. 

It’s worth saying that i Do Not Like Everything About Japeth. Some of his writing and dialogue really falls through, and maybe having your first canon queer couple both be absolute psychopaths isn’t a good idea?? While I don’t think the queer rep done through Japeth isnt horrible, it's. Yknow. Not good. It’s also worth saying that i don’t hate everything about Rhian!! I do think he’s also cleverly written and, again, works very well as a parallel to old rhian. 

I think that’s about it and i don’t want to write any more so if you have any further questions (or if you agree with me somehow) please let me know!! It’s also worth noting that i just really like snakes and went a little wild in 2020 when i read about cool snake villain

TL,DR: japeth’s nicely written and i think he’s generally misunderstood, he’s also got some nice parallels going on, I don’t explicitly hate Rhian but i don’t like him because he treats people around him like shit. I also think that Aric and Evelyn are more responsible for the twin’s actions then the twins are themselves. I condensed this all and it's still so long

also:

[emystic-old]

Mobile Rules

There is a rule section on the blog as well, this is for all that page be inaccessible to on mobile.

Firstly, this is a hobby. My time will not always be on this blog, I don't stress over being here and I can be incredibly slow or quick about replies it just depends. Please remind me of threads and things I owe, as I may have forgotten just don't be mean or annoying about it.

Please state something is an issue privately when it first arises, this includes people I might associate with. I will not know something unless told and if I have an issue I will do the same. Communication is a key way to fix most misunderstandings. However, I cannot make promises if you have an issue with a person, but I will take what is said into account.

I do not write smut nor will I have it forced onto me, characters can be implied they had sex and speak suggestively. I just don't anyone to force me to write it. It's just not my thing

I do not like automatic romance and I don't want ships forced on me. Exes and FWBs are not romantic by nature but I don't like those on automatic either. Don't mind discussing it as an end game, but also please don't get upset if the discussion isn't always seen eye to eye.

All romantic ships need to be adult/adult and teen/teen. Age-changed and age-specific AU characters are tricky and I will judge by how the mun is general (if I feel like it's done for creepy reasons it's a no-go).

I don't care if muses are not specified, if you have one in mind that's great, and if not that's fine too! I'll try my best to pick one I think fits. However, if I do give a random one that doesn't work please DM and we can work out something different. Also, other multis that strictly want their muses specified I always respect that rule and abide by it.

I only wish to interact with people I am mutually following. Please only follow me if my blog actually interests you, I am not a meme source or someone to boast a follow count. If we barely interact it's okay activity isn't always constant on both ends, as long as I know there is still an interest. However, if I can't even get a word I will unfollow no hard feelings I rather put my vibes onto people who want to write with me.

Smaller things to be aware of:

You are accountable for reading information that was provided or is accessible, if you can't find it or simply just don't feel like looking come directly to me.

I cannot make anyone tag my url in their posts, but I strongly recommend tagging emystic so I can track things easier.

I am a freelance AI trainer so I already do a lot of typing and most of the other times I'm sleeping due to my health issues; unfortunately, I born with one of the worst bodies so if I'm not online all day or even for a few days I'm probably in bed.

[canidfeline]

107 - PAGE THREE

X-107 walked with the Director, her opening the doors in front of them and letting him go first before standing behind him.

D: ''Now, X. I know you don't love water or being bathed, but this bath is going to be very good for you, okay? And, it will make me proud. You like making me proud, hm?''

X nodded, staring at the big vat of water in the middle of the room, glancing up over at the balcony overlooking it, his head tilting. Which the Director picked up on.

D: ''Don't worry. That's just for me and some other science people to watch so the bath doesn't go wrong. You know better than anyone that when you get stronger, you need to be hurt first.''

The boy's stare went empty for a second before just nodding.

D: ''Now, I want you to get in that bath and lay done on that small little table in it. I'll tell you when it's about to lower.''

He nodded again, walking over to the vat and dropping himself onto the little block on it, laying down as he gazes down at his bare chest, an eyebrow raising at the strange little surgical markings he's had drawn on him.

The Director walked up a set of stairs and into a room on it overlooking, what is basically X-107's operating table.

S1: ''Vibranium deposits are full and ready to deploy, Miss.''

S2: ''Mechanisms and everything also.''

D: ''Good.''

She leaned forward to a telecom in the 'office', turning it on.

D: ''3, 2, 1.''

Guards lined the balconies as a button was pressed, lowering X-107 into the water as the needles above him started whirring. His eyes widened with fear as before he could growl for assistance, a rebreather was forced over his mouth and nose by another mechanism. Four automatic cuffs under his limbs locking over them before he could flail them.

All fake emotions and lies of affection and love were stripped from the Director as she looked down upon the experiment below her. Because that's all he was.

D: ''Do it.'' She commanded of a scientist before he nodded, pressing a few buttons and switching levers.

The needles descended up X-107's body, his knees kicking and his body wriggling as he attempted to avoid them.

Despite his efforts, the needles dug into his skin, scraping and stabbing into his bones before beyond-boiling-hot metal began to seep under his skin, weighing him and his attempts to get out down.

Muffled screams, squeals and howls came from under the water. Infrared monitors in the Director's office showed the metal settling onto and into the teen's bones.

Seconds felt like minutes and minutes were too long. Screams died out as a heart monitor in the Director's office came from over 220 beats per minute to 0 in a matter of seconds. The boy's breath slowed to a stop.

D: ''W- no, that's impossible. He can't die.'' The Director mumbled under her breath, glancing from the monitor to the clone below.

Scientists stood up from their seats to peer out the window and guards leaned over the balcony. The clone that had been shot, subdued and sedated all to no effect died from too much pain.

-

--/\

--/\--/\/\-

The monitor beeped once, twice. Four times.

The Director took a deep breath as a 'proud'. excited smirk curled her lips.

D: ''Good... yes... good, X.''

S1: ''I'm surprised he's alive. The vibranium's still burning, look at the infrareds.''

D: ''Who cares if he's hurt? He's alive, that's all that matters.

The boy's hearing was one of the first senses to come back, he heard the guards' gasps of surprise and scientists' breaths of relief.

A guard came through the door to the office, clearing his throat.

G: ''What do we do when he wakes up, Miss? I know I'm not a scientist, but I don't think his mind's gonna be in the right place after that.

D: ''His healing will be in overdrive to try and soothe the internal burns. A large enough dose of an M99 bullet should take him down. For an hour, at least.

D: ''Erase his memory too,'' She said, turning a scientist leaning over a computer. ''we don't want him to retain any knowledge of any abuse. We need his trust.''

The teen's ears perked up. They were in separate rooms, but his hearing was sharp.

The pain, the rage, and the betrayal he felt boiled over him. Every piece of metal shook in the room before he ripped the gas mask off his face, deploying his sharper, shinier and burning claws, cutting wires and the mechanism above him as a hungry roar erupted from him, a few needles still stuck in his chest.

Guards gasped again, out of fear. Scientists held their breath, out of fear.

The Director's breath quickened, near hyperventilating. Out of fear.

The Director stared at the guard that came into the office, doing a shooing motion.

D: ''WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! SEDATE HIM! NOW!''

The guard loaded his M99-infused bullets before running out of the office and shooting one at the clone.

All that came from the shot was light metal hitting harder metal.

A roar.

----------------------------END OF PART ONE.--------------------------

[a-sentient-cup]

Thank you very much for writing this, it's just about what i would expect for the price of "i'm not spending more than $1k on an instrument" although i do wish i found this review of yours sooner (i have in fact spent more than that but on a viola and it was worth it despite how i have mangled it, it's simply due to the current point i am at that restricts me)

Onto the company since you didn't get that part of the experience in your review. From looking at their pages online it was very visible that consistency in other products is lacking (but what are you expecting for the prices though) and eBay has a lot of resellers that work with them selling for higher than the company site to make their fees of course

I opted to order directly from the company store after a bit of thought and concerns about costs. $945 for it, 900+45 shipping, and it could've been as low as $856 if i decided to use an email discount code.

I can say the shipping didn't update automatically, as up until the night of writing this the order page was on "wait for shipping" despite the updated tracking saying it would be delivered today (that would have been nice to know seeing i have to sign for it). Their customer service getting that resolved was good, considering the language barrier during a call (i HATE calling on business btw but i stay strong and polite) it took less than a business day there to get the tracking resolved

First impressions:

The mouthpiece took a bit of adjusting to be usable, but from my perspective of only playing a really old one from school, i would say it played about as expected. Due to the time of practice i had to be playing piano to pianissimo after my adjustments and any leaks in it were solely from my very rusty embouchure as it was non-existent for louder volumes. The cork was also wider than what was convenient, although after easing it in slowly it behaved

The neck and octave key however needed some bending since when set to position forced the high octave. Following this it had no issues switching from an A-key to a high C

One of the lower keys are absolutely airy and i need to check the pads, but other than that it's playing without issue. I had to readjust the screw that connects to it in an alternate fingering and somehow that fixed it? It doesn't seem like any other pads are leaking beyond me having absolutely limp fingerings since I'm not used to it yet

There isn't a neck strap which after a bit of thought is probably the normal thing for instruments that come with a floor peg. I had to add something to sit on to my little bench so the bell doesn't hit the floor but that's just me being short. I would like to add one to be perfectly honest but the angle of the instrument might not be right for playing

And now for something completely different...

So anyone out there who has experience with instruments — in particular large, less common instruments — knows about the Cheaper-from-China market, typically on eBay. Miscellaneous (sometimes temporary, other times permanent) companies offering cheaper, unbranded instruments that are clones of their name-brand counterparts, though typically of a lower quality. I think every consumer industry probably has a cheaper-from-China market out there, it’s just for me that market is predominantly musical instruments as that’s one of my major hobbies.

I had considered buying one of these cheaper instruments when I was in the market for a Bass Clarinet, though in the end I ended up going with a proper name brand, something I do not regret as it is really a beautiful instrument with some incredible history behind it (an 80-year-old wooden Buffet bass clarinet). The main sticking point for me was the potential to end up with a cheaper instrument from very far away which might be a lemon on arrival and, thus, very difficult to return, so I had passed on the cheaper options as a result.

Recently however, I had the opportunity to procure one of these instruments in the local scene, without the long-distance risk of ordering from China. The original owner had already ordered the horn and it was only played for a handful of hours. I admit to not asking him the exact reason why he was getting rid of it, I probably didn’t want to know. It looked like it was in great condition and I was willing to take a slightly-smaller risk on a local Chinese horn than a long-distance one. Plus, at least this one had seen an instrument technician.

This is my review of that horn.

Brand name

The horn doesn’t have one. It’s sold by a company called Yinfente, which anyone who knows about cheaper-from-china instruments has probably seen this name floating around, but the horn itself is completely unbranded. Companies like this will in fact do bulk deals that allow you to brand the horn with your own name, which is why you may see the exact same horn floating around out there from several different manufacturers. There are actually some companies on Alibaba which will allow you to put a logo onto the instrument for a simple order of 1, so hey, if you want a custom-named Bass Clarinet, the option is out there for you.

Case

It comes in a relatively solid case that personally I don’t think is any worse than any other case for a lower- to mid-end instrument. I wouldn’t call it the best fitting case on the planet, there is some movement of the instrument on the inside (very little but enough to possibly bend keys if used for long-term shipping — we’ll get to this soon). I’ll probably upgrade it into a BAM case as soon as I can, however as-is, there is nothing really wrong with it for daily use.

Mouthpiece

Straight outta the gate, we’re not beating around any bushes here, the mouthpiece that came with the horn is hot, hot, piping hot, steaming garbage, and this is what’s going to trip everyone up initially about cheap horns. Here’s how that works: The problem is that people considering buying a cheap-from-china instrument will not be professional players: they are students, adults looking to go back into it, community band players, adults learning for the first time, that sort of thing. These people don’t have other mouthpieces available 9 times out of 10 as a result. You’re looking at beginners who need an all-in solution in one shot, if for no other reason than they have no idea what they’re looking for. If you try to buy a “bass clarinet mouthpiece” as someone who is inexperienced, you’re going to be in for a big surprise: There are dozens of them with varying brands, sizes, facings, ligatures, and it’s not as easy as you might think. So people who are just getting into an instrument, or just coming back to an instrument, are the most likely to use what comes with your instrument by default. Unfortunately, those same people are the ones who will actually benefit from a good starting mouthpiece, so it’s a bit of a catch-22. For those poor people, playing this instrument for the first time using the included mouthpiece will sound a bit like they just paid hundreds of dollars or zip-all. It is hideous. It is terrible. It is so awful I’d like to walk it up and toss it into a volcano to rid the earth of its very existence. Pure evil. Luckily, I am not limited to this mouthpiece, I have a couple of others on hand. If you get one of these bad boy bass clarinets from China and are ready to play, just make sure you also get a mouthpiece from a reputable brand to go with it.

Body

The body of the horn is solid and inoffensive. It’s not top of the line, it’s also not what I’d call bottom of the barrel. It’s plastic with a matte finish and a very slight hint of a ‘grain’, and doesn’t feel terribly low-quality over any other plastic instrument — actually, I kind of like this particular plastic or rubberized finish more than others I’ve played in the past from name-brand companies. I personally wanted a plastic Bass Clarinet as my primary horn is 80-year-old wood, not suitable for playing in Canadian weather outdoors at the Band Stand in the spring. I’m sure there are professional players out there who would turn up their nose at even the suggestion of plastic, let alone ‘cheap-from-China’ plastic, but honestly there is nothing wrong with this horn body that I can see. I’ll call this a check mark.

Keys

The keys are… well, they’re all there, what can I say. Getting into it: One ‘feature’ of these unbranded Chinese instruments is the materials of the keys, and that ‘feature’ may actually be more of a ‘bug’ to some. The keys are made from that mysterious metal alloy mass-produced and exiting China at alarming rates on instruments like this, and the material is not exactly known for its strength. I believe they call it ‘cupronickel’ though I am never really sure if that’s what it is either, even though some claim it verbatim on the instrument descriptions. Often instead what you’ll end up with is a description that simply says the keys are “nickel-plated” (common for bottom-tier instruments of even name brands) but the won’t tell you what’s under that nickel-plating. Whatever you call it, the metal bends and that’s a fact of life. Now all metal keys have the potential to bend at least a bit, but it is a much higher risk with a cheap instrument as metal is one of the places manufacturing is likely to cut costs. Due to this particular “metal product” (is that like “cheese food”?)…

… the instrument came with some bent keys that had to be fixed [and were fixed by me, not by a technician]. But I’ll come back to this, bear with me.

The first play-test

So after giving it a quick once over only, I gave it a go, with the original mouthpiece… and after tossing that straight in the trash, bringing out my Vandoren to take its place, we were off to the races. This is what I discovered along with play-testing:

This bass clarinet sounds pretty darn good. I’m leaving that note on its own line because no, I’m not kidding. This clarinet sounds… fine! It’s not top of the line but you know what? It’s not at the bottom either. And if I’m being honest, unless you are an extremely discerning professional that does nothing but listen to other Bass Clarinet professionals all the time (and there are people who fit into this category), you will not be able to tell this instrument’s sound from your average name-brand horn.

That being said, there were some problems to note:

The special keys that control the Low D / C# / and C were… odd. I felt like something was wrong but I couldn’t figure out what. The “D” key in particular felt “broken”, like if you had a finger out-of-joint and then tried to use it normally, it was just ‘out of place’ (pushed in too far) and very stiff, like things were rubbing or pushing up against other things that were not designed to move. Pressing down any of these keys, but especially the Low D, was unusually difficult. I was surprised as the instrument was supposedly put through the shop (complete with a receipt I have a copy of) for adjustment, but they either massively missed multiple issues on this horn, or it was damaged in transport which is entirely possible due to the aforementioned case that is “not quite the best fit” for shipping. I was prepared for this though. I knew bent keys in transport are especially common in long spindly giant metal pieces for a Low C bass in particular. But no matter how prepared you are before hand, the reality sinking in always feels a bit… worse.

This began the period of review I will call “several hours of hell”, though it probably wasn’t quite that bad and would have been reduced significantly if I had a bit more instrument-tech experience under my belt (I have some, but not enough). I suppose we could also call this a “learning experience” and “things I will know for next time”. Nevertheless, wanting to save myself a trip to a lighter wallet, I decided I would try to troubleshoot the issues myself.

I confirmed with the seller that he didn’t feel the keys were overly hard to press or ‘broken’ which was a good start. He mentioned the instrument has many, many adjustment screws, which I was starting to get very familiar with, so I was hoping I would just manage to find the correct key adjustments to make everything work perfectly. The difference of course between a Low Eb Bass Clarinet (your run of the mill bass) and a Low C model (which is this one), may sound like “3 notes in total” (and several more inches in height), but the true difference is in screws. Namely maybe a dozen more adjustment screws I did not have on my Eb Bass, along with numerous precariously-adjusted-and-placed extremely-long rods and levers.

It’s daunting, and it does make you think: “Maaaaybe I should just take this to the shop.”

Nay though. I was determined.

Locating the precise issues on an absolute beast of screws, rods, levers, keys, springs, and clever little mechanisms is no small task, and it’s not a quick process either. It involves pressing down each key and seeing how the resulting affected keys respond — if you press down x-key, the bottom keys 5,6,7 and 8 should go down, but then you find one of those keys is not going down all the way, so you troubleshoot that by adjusting its screw, or by tweaking something else. And by fixing that one key, you in turn end up setting some other keys out-of-whack so you have to look into those and fix them respectively, only to find the adjustments on those keys affected something else.

One of the major problems I was able to identify was that one of my usual left-hand-pinky keys was physically and significantly bent to be “stuck” behind the left-pinky-low-D key (one of the keys that is not normally there on a regular Eb Bass). Since it wasn’t a key that was normally available to me on my name-brand bass, it took me awhile to figure out that these keys were not supposed to be interacting with each other. After this was identified, I was able to closely examine the stem of the key and found out that in fact yes, the key was bent so far to the left that it almost didn’t even look like the key it was originally meant to be at all.

Should I take it in to the technician to bend it back?

Nope! I bent that sucker myself, and while I wouldn’t call it a professional job, and the stem certainly isn’t entirely straight, I can say the key now no longer affects keys it shouldn’t and was also now sitting back roughly in its proper place. With that fixed, the Low “D” thumb key was no longer feeling “broken” — success! It was able to reset all the way to its naturally-seated position. I felt pretty good about this, even though it probably took a couple of hours to figure it out.

However I was discouraged to find out at my next play-test (after having fixed the first big issue) that the Low C and D keys did still not give me the tone and response I was looking for. With the upper left hand keys fixed, I started concentrating on the really low pancake keys at the bottom of the Bass, the ones that press down with the activation of the right-hand pinky keys to give you those lovely low notes, some of which are unique to this style bass. This is where I spent probably another few hours of fiddling with adjustment screws, and I thought that would be the solution.

I came close to giving up on more than one occasion, because after seemingly making every adjustment under the sun (and carefully recording each adjustment so that I could put it back if needed), I still had a few issues: The low E was too sharp, the low F was stuffy and the key felt unusual, and the Low D and C were somewhat unplayable due to one or more of the pancake keys not making full contact with the horn (a leak issue, essentially, that was born of keys not seating properly). I tested this theory by shoving the keys down with my toes (this thing is big!) while playing those low notes, and I was rewarded: A beautiful, deep, low rumbling sound rocked the apartment floor (sorry neighbors!).

So the horn is capable of everything I want from it, I just… had to figure out how to make it happen.

It actually took me more than one day to locate the final problem that fixed everything, let’s call it “sleeping on the problem” and coming up with new possible troubleshooting steps in your unconscious state (hopefully I’m not the only one who thinks best like this). All of those problems I just identified ended up boiling down to one tiny little thing, and yes, it was yet another bent key. One of the pancake keys had a special extra mechanism only triggered for the really low notes, and that extra mechanism was bent perpendicular to its natural position to the point where it was colliding with, and getting stuck on, the pancake key’s normal mechanism. You could physically pop it off after each key recoil, but the next time you engage that key, it will be stuck again. To fix it, I had to simply bend it back. Shockingly easy since the keys are relatively soft, though that does carry concerns of its own.

So in the end, mere millimeters of clearance fixed every single low-note problem I just identified, and I was rewarded by in-tune notes from Low E all the way down to Low C and a big, deep sound I had been missing on those notes from the beginning, along with the keys being easy-to-press and feeling good. Admittedly the Low C is still a touch sharp but that seems to have nothing to do with leaks — after doing my research I did find out that Low C can naturally be a bit sharp even on name-brand instruments, so really loosening up the embouchure is going to help there more than anything.

So, with all the keys now fixed and the instrument in good working order (if not a little bent here and there), what do I think of it?

It sounds fantastic, truthfully, and I’m happy to have it.

While I originally got it as a backup horn, I can completely see myself playing on this horn more than I originally thought I would. It does require a little more prep as at only 5’4″ tall, I can only barely properly reach this instrument in a regular kitchen chair or other hard chair — my gaming chair is simply too low. But it’s worth it, particularly to transpose down some music to use those low notes!

Overall:

Tone: pretty good as mentioned above.

Response: Key and note response is quite good including between registers.

Blow experience: So free-blowing and easy to play, my 80-year-old wooden Buffet feels like a stodgy piece of plumbing in comparison (though has its benefits of course and is still a very high quality instrument)

Construction: Solid enough if you’re careful, just watch out for those keys particularly if you’re going to transport it.

Adjustment: The horn has a ton of adjustment screws, which is lacking on some cheaper instruments so definitely if you go in the direction of cheap, look for ‘cheap, but with features’. I do find they are a little ‘too loose’ if you ask me in that I’m afraid from time to time they may just turn a bit on their own, but if you keep an eye on it, it shouldn’t be too much trouble. Fixing bent keys is also possible on a DIY level as long as you are careful and you don’t mind that the key may not be “perfectly straight” when you’re done (it will be good enough, though).

Price: Cheap by comparison to other cheap models, I’ll go over this in more detail below, and extremely cheap when compared to proper Low C name-brand bass clarinets (we’re talking 1/10th of the price or less).

So what do I mean by “Cheap by comparison to other Cheap Models:

There are a couple of resellers/retailers of Bass Clarinets out there who are essentially taking these Cheap from China instruments and turning them into a business: they do proper quality control and professional set-up of the instruments, so that you don’t have to worry you’re getting something that neesd an intense amount of work when it gets to you. For that service, you are paying 2 to 3 times more for the instrument than you would if it came straight to you from the Chinese factory. Among these brands are:

Ridenour: their Low C model (Lyrique 925c) goes for $2850 USD ($3,570 CAD) plus shipping. It includes a mouthpiece.

Kessler: their Low C model (Kessler Custom Low C) goes for $2,249 USD ($2,818 CAD) plus shipping. On top of that, the instrument does NOT come with a mouthpiece or ligature, which will run you another $175 USD minimum and up ($213 CAD+), and they recommend you ditch the case it comes with (remember when I talked about the case for this one? Same problems here) and buy a multi-hundred-dollar BAM case instead for shipping.

Now for comparison, looking up the Yinfente unbranded Bass Clarinet on Ebay gives you a price range of $1,300-$1,600 CAD or a mere $1,030-$1260 USD, which is a significant price drop.

Here’s the best part though: The instrument Ridenour and Kessler are selling you vs. the instrument Yinfente is selling you on eBay? They are the same instrument. In some cases, the exact same instrument, in fact, or at least rolling out of the exact same factory. In some cases, these factories may even be producing more commonly-known brands of instruments as well.

So on the cheaper name-brand side, what you are paying for instead is quality control: instead of having to spend 2 days troubleshooting key issues, you will get an instrument that is hopefully already adjusted and fine-tuned and pre-quality-checked so you don’t have to deal with these kinds of issues. Particularly, there are some issues I did not encounter in my instrument that you could come across, such as poorly-drilled or burred tone holes, a very difficult fix that you most likely will not be able to do yourself.

Did I get lucky on this? I’m not sure, though I do hear overall that the quality of these instruments coming from China has improved dramatically over the last 10 years, so maybe these problems are becoming less than we remember.

Conclusions:

Should you get a Cheap-from-China instrument?

If you need something you know is going to work, from the start, without thinking, without having to put any troubleshooting into it, the answer is probably No. Stick to brand names that are known for quality products, that technicians are familiar to work on, and particularly if you are a student that needs your instrument to work so you can learn to play. Learning to play on a broken instrument is a great way to make a person hate music forever.

If however you’re an adult, you’re looking to get back into playing or learning to play, or just want to have some fun in community band or for your own amusement, and you’re OK accepting some risk that you might have to do a little troubleshooting? It could definitely pan out in your favor to the tune of hundreds or thousands of dollars to choose on the cheaper side of the coin.

[pariahsparadise]

ye of little faith | e. p.

nav. | m.list

summary: eustace doesn't believe that edmund has a girlfriend.

wc: 800

pairings: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: VERY unedited. also it's 1am and i just wrote this in a burst of inspiration, so please don't expect it to be good.

a/n: i don't really know if this will make sense to anyone lol, i think i wrote it in a confusing way, but hopefully it's okay. it's mostly eustace's pov, i wanted to try something new. also, this exact scenario has been in my head for months now.

“There’s no way he has a girlfriend,” Eustace tells Lucy, barging into the room. She immediately knows who he’s talking about, able to hear Edmund on the phone downstairs, voice softer than it usually is, taking the tone he automatically opts for when he speaks to Y/N.

“Why?” Lucy asks, half-heartedly entertaining her annoying cousin while she thumbs through the pages of her book. Unfortunately for her, Eustace Scrubb brightens at the attention, straightening up and launching into a rather well-thought out spiel.

“First of all, it’s Edmund we’re talking about. He’s awkward, way too hostile and bad-tempered. Not to mention, he’s barely of average height, and his hair? Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Y/N likes it,” Lucy says mildly, earning a scoff from Eustace.

“Y/N.” he says with disbelieving scorn, “As if she actually exists. You expect me to believe that a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you lot claim she is would actually be interested in Edmund? And so interested that she calls and writes to him multiple times a week? Yeah, right. I bet that Ed’s hired an escort to help him forget about how lonely he actually is. Or he’s paying some poor girl to play the part of a caring partner.” Eustace has had many such theories, the more creative ones dealing with blackmail and holding family members hostage, but so far, monetary imbursements seem to be the most likely.

“Sure, Eustace,” Lucy mumbles, having checked out of the conversation a while ago. He shakes his head at her disinterest, convinced that he is right, and leaves the room, muttering to himself disbelievingly.

A few days later, a painting gushes out water and swallows them whole, so poor Eustace, although having taunted his cousins with his skepticisms about the magical land of Narnia and called them fools for believing in the same, is forced to confront that he was wrong. 

Eustace is soaking wet and miserable, still slightly panic infused. He can’t believe his eyes, convinced that he hallucinated the last fifteen minutes. Sitting on the ship, the Dawn Treader, he watches as his cousins are recognised as King and Queen. He’s related to royalty. 

With a humorous snort, he realises that this is more believable than Edmund Pevensie having a girlfriend.

Hell, even the talking rat next to him is more believable.

He goes to voice the same, but is distracted by a joyous whoop descending from the sky, followed by a splash in the ocean. Eustace is too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the figure underwater to notice the hopeful glances Edmund and Lucy exchange, the faint tremour in Edmund’s hands as he snatches a telescope from a passing crew member, getting a clearer view.

“It is her!” Ed cries, only barely held back from jumping overboard by Caspian, who laughs fondly at the Just King. Eustace tries to hear what the Prince tells Edmund, but all noise turns to mush the second he sees the young woman surface, a brilliant smile on her face.

At first glance, he thinks it’s a siren. He’s heard stories about their enchanting beauty and ethereal forms, and Eustace does genuinely believe that this woman is too gorgeous to be human like he is. As she swims closer, though, and the ship's crew help pull her onto the ship, Eustace notices the lack of a tail. And though her hair is soaked and strewn across her face, and her clothes suction themselves to her skin, none of it takes away from her radiance.

It also doesn’t distract him from the fact that she’s walking right towards him. 

Eustace’s mouth goes bone dry, and he gulps nervously, afraid she’ll talk to him and afraid she won’t, when suddenly, Edmund swoops past him and towards the woman. He snatches her up in a passionate embrace, hands securing her to him as he twirls her around in sheer delight.

When they kiss, chaste but heady, Eustace decides that he has never actually known anything about anything.

He’s scouring the sky for flying pigs when he hears Edmund’s self-satisfied voice behind him, “And this, my very real girlfriend, Y/N, would be my cousin, Eustace Scrubb.”

“How do you do?” Eustace says weakly, extending a hand, trying his hardest not to faint when you take it.

“Pretty well. If only Edmund would- what was it again?- stop holding my family hostage, I think I’d be great,” you rib amiably, throwing back one of Eustace’s earliest theories back into his now scarlet face.

“No, darling, you’ve got it wrong, I’ve currently got your dogs kidnapped and ready to be shipped to the pound, remember?” Edmund joins in on the fun, his smile widening as he earns a couple of chuckles from you, and a darker flush from Eustace’s cheeks. 

Eustace Scrubb, though unwilling, is forced to admit, after watching the two of you interact, gravitating towards each other naturally, at ease with the love that surrounds you, his cousin’s eyes brighter than he’s ever seen them, that it is very believable for Edmund Pevensie to be dating Y/N L/N after all. 

[punishing-eden]

Commandant of Grey Raven

Hassen character study (ft. reader)

Summary:

Humanity has still not been able to reclaim earth yet, as Nikola reflected how dire the situtation was, which puts Hassen in a difficult position.

But he believe that the next generation, can bring about hope with new blood and talent.

Tags: Character study-fic, Reader is a student in F. O. S Military Command College, pre-commandant timeline, canon divergent, short.

Celica stood by the door of Hassen's office. Currently waiting for Nikola to finish his unscheduled business with the President.

The secretary shuffled her feet a little, to elevate the weight on her foot. She read the time on her watch, Nikola had been talking to Hassen for a while, but to Celica, she doesn't care all that much. Daydreaming about her fantasy of becoming the Overlord, she failed to notice the conversation inside the office came to an end.

Suddenly the door opened, pulling the secretary back to reality, and the Chief of Council walked out. Straightening his black suit, he didn't bother greeting Celica and just left with a usual scowl.

The woman watched as Nikola walked away, making a rather displeased face before she turned her heels towards the office door. Giving it a few knocks, she heard Hassen reply, "Come in."

The door opened automatically and Celica entered. She place the file filled with paperwork, she has been holding onto, on Hassen's desk and said, "As you requested, President Hassen. This is from the F. O. S Military Command College."

No words were exchanged. The man, wearing an eyepatch on this left eye, stared at the file. He didn't move for a while. In thought, he grabbed the stack of paperwork and flipped through the pages.

In Celica's eyes, the man in front of her was rather uncharacteristic silence. This could only mean one thing, Nikola must have said something.

Scanning through the contents and photos, the secretary had just remembered to take two envelopes out from her other file and place it on the desk, "... and these as well, sir." she added.

When Hassen's gaze landed on the two envelope, his face reacted as he already knew what the content is about.

"Again? That makes eight." he spoke looking back at the woman.

She nodded and explained, "Commandant Mikhal and Thomas opt for an early retirement, Sir."

A chuckle of disbelief escaped his lips, "This is not good... Nikola just reflected that to me." he stood up from his seat and walked towards the window. Earth was just outside, and the dream of reclaiming it is far from finished. The troubling thoughts were bubbling in his mind.

Hassen asked, "how are the new constructs doing in the Science department?"

"According to Asimov, 10 new constructs are underway. As for the rest, they are still in training." Celica replied.

"How about the deal with Kurono Ops?"

"They are willing to let go of a few constructs. They will be shipped within three days."

Nodding, Hassen turned around and headed for the door.

"Sir?" Celica asked with a bewildered expression.

Her gaze followed her boss as he reaches the door. "You are dismissed," he said

"but sir," Celica followed, "you are going to have a meeting soon!"

"Cancel that. I am heading out for a bit."

"Sir, wait!"

******

"President Hassen! Good to see you again!" an older man greeted. He reached out and shook Hassen's hand. The latter gave a mutual nod.

"It's been a while, Anderson" He replied. He forced a small smile on his lips while they both stroll along the campus of F. O. S.

"How's the base? I haven't been there for a long time." Anderson asked.

"A few changes have been made, policies added...technologically improved... The usual stuff." Hassen said.

They walked along the outdoor pathway, which leads up to the main building. Over there, the students were coming and going from their classes.

Hassen looked around. The students were like busy bees, rushing to get to their next class. They seem to look relaxed and carefree.

The air on the campus lacked a sense of seriousness. If only the students were aware of how dire the situation is. Reclaiming the earth has become increasingly difficult, and all the while the World Organisation claims the opposite. Nikola pointed the former out.

The lack of suffient commadants in the C.C (commandant and construct) program made it hard for Hassen to deliver results.

He let out a sigh and began a small talk.

"So, how's teaching?" he questioned, "I heard old veterans have a hard time adjusting. Did you adjust well?"

The old man chuckled. A laugh came from the veteran, he reached his arm out to pat Hassen's shoulder, "certainly not as hard as overseeing the future of mankind."

"That's true..." Hassen let out a playful scoff.

They both went inside the new campus building and Anderson proceed to give Hassen a tour. The classrooms look neat and clean. The hallways were nicely kept.

Impressed by the tardiness, Hassen turned his head to and fro, observing at the architecture in detail. It was surely well-made and designed. Hopefully, the extra funding helped cultivate a better quality of training for the candidates.

"I should show you our new library," the old man said and guide Hassen through the corridor.

"... The students," Hassen went to the point, "how are they doing?"

The old man turned to look at the president, "The students? You mean their progress?", As if Anderson read Hassen's mind,"I see... checking if we teachers did a good job or not, huh?."

"Not so much... But, think of it as a causal inspection." Hassen said.

As they arrived at the library, Hassen nodded his head in approval. He admits the space looked nice and comfortable.

The students were curently studying inside the library. Some were in groups and some where looking through books for research.

"I just want to know, will the new Candidates be qualified enough for the C.C program. The last batch of Candidates performed badly...some couldn't even stomach the scene of the real battle field... "

"Having doubts, Mr president?" Anderson asked. He can sense the stess in Hassen's voice.

"..." the latter didn't reply. The veteran hit the bullseye. The silent was all Anderson needs to understand the president's worries.

Hassen wore a troubled look before walking away to explore the library alone.

He was, indeed, having doubts about the next batch of candidates. These youngsters lived too comfortably.

He questioned: Will they be better than the pervious batches and the ones before? Or will they be the same and let reality shatter their heroic dream? Just like those eight retirement letters.

The shelves were filled with books ranging from topic to topic. Hassen picked up a book and flip through a few pages to help ease his troubling mind.

His rough fingers flipped through the book as he read its content. It was a book about the human brain.

Skimming through the words, a voice alerted him. He quickly turned to his side and saw you looking at him.

You gave a polite smile, noticing the Millitary badge on Hassen's jacket, you address, " Sir," you stood up straight, "may I ask you to lend me that book once you are finished?"

Hassen closed the book and handed it to you. He said, "I am not using this for anything. I am just looking through."

You reached out and took the book. You thanked him and proceed to return to your study when Hassen called out for you.

"Candidate," he said, you stopped and turned around.

'Yes, sir? " you replied standing straight.

"May I know what you are studying?" Hassen asked.

"Yes, sir. I am reviewing about the functions of the human brain in relation to making the M. I. N. D for my final thesis, sir"you answered.

Nodding his head, the older man listened and questioned further, "That's hugely in relation to the C&C, perhaps you are interested in this field?" he asked.

There, he saw a spark lit up in your eyes, " I strive to join Babylonia after graduating," you said, "I want to be part of the C&C team."

"... So you want to be a Commandant... It's not an easy path. It's no place for a hero's dream" Hassen warned.

He expected to see you get disheartened. After all, it's the truth. Yet, at the same time he was interest to see how you would wrap your head around this reality.

You thought about what Hassen said. You weren't defensive nor were you offended. Naturally you replied, " I chose to be a Commandant not because I want to be a hero. In fact, I never thought of myself as one."

Your answer pique his interest.

He pressed his question further, "Then tell me what made you want it be a commandant, Candidate."

And, you gave him your answer.

******

Celica jumped from her seat when she saw Hassen had returned. She quickly rushed towards him and spew her complaints.

"You are finally back, sir!" she spoke with a disapproving voice, "do you know how hard it was for me to cover for you at the meeting? Nikola was furious, sir. And that boy he has with him didn't make the situtation better."

Hassen sighed.

"So, that's why I am asking for compensation. Three weeks worth of paid leave."

"Denied," Hassen answered and went into his office. Celica followed.

He quickly sat back on his seat and took the file that was left on his desk since afternoon. Going through the student profiles, he stopped when he saw a photo of you, attached to your information.

Reading through, he handed the paper work to Cecila and said, "Get this candidate a position in the C&C program."

The secretary wore a confused look on her face as she took the paperwork. "You want me to request a waiver?"

Hassen nodded. As his mind began to turn and hope was rebuilding. The next generation is important, as you have prove to him.

Moreso, you are important to him.

A new hope for mankind, starting from you.

"But sir, it's hard to waiver a fresh graduate..." Celica commented.

"... Then we will just have to create an new position," Hassen proposed," it's time to put forward this elite team in place: Project: Grey Raven.

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

Author's note:

Read the PGR manga about Hassen's back story. It really fuelled my interest about him.

Also, baby Hassen is so cute.

©Punishing-eden

[americanhoney913]

Why would you write smut of a character who you headcanon as ace?

So, I'm ace. And there's obviously an ace spectrum just like there is any gender/sexuality. And I HC Yelena as not having a sex drive for 364 days of the year. But one day out of the year, the need just hits her. She identifies as ace but there's one day where she needs one orgasm (just one, she can't have more than one because it's too much and she's really sensitive afterward).

So, for this fic, it's one of those "oh, right now?" moments. She and Kate have talked extensively by this point about what to do when something like this does happen, so it's not like the ace character is in any danger of their needs/wants being pushed aside. If Yelena wanted to stop at any point during sex, Kate would automatically stop. And I focused more on the emotions Yelena's feeling rather than just the physical aspect.

So I wanted to respect the fact that she's ace but there are some ace people that might have the urge to have sex. Rarely, sometimes, or not at all.

I write an ace character how I would want to have sex if I had the drive or ever got the urge to have sex. To have someone who listens to me and will respect my boundaries. If that all makes sense in any way to explain why I write a character I HC as ace having sex.

Yelena, in my HC, is sex-repulsed by men (because of the Red Room missions and just the Red Room in general) and the only person she's be attracted to physically is Kate.

I am also writing a fic where the first time Yelena has sex that's not for a Red Room mission is with Kate and that's going to be focusing on both emotional and physical. This is also before Yelena realizes that asexuality exists and that word fits her identity. And, again, very tender and a lot of communication between Kate and Yelena. Because that's super important.

The reason the first time smut fic (that I've been working on for months and is about 28 pages on GoogleDocs as of writing this response) is so long is because Kate is constantly stopping to ask for verbal consent. This is also the first time Yelena's felt the urge to have sex because she wants to, not because she's being forced to or to make a target easier to kill. So she's trying to come at it with the same mindset she would during a mission, but Kate's slowing her down and making her think and check in with her own brain and body to make sure this is something she wants.

Kate: You will tell me exactly what you want me to do.

Yelena: I don't care. My pleasure doesn't matter.

Kate: *literally stops in the middle of touching Yelena to read her the importance of consent*

I think there are just so many layers to being ace. And everyone's idea is different. I genuinely thought for a while that I could only be with an ace person because I don't want to stop my partner from achieving pleasure. But then the idea of my system that I would be fine with working on with a partner is like Yelena and Kate's.

Their system is, essentially, when Kate's feeling like she needs an orgasm or whatever, she goes into the bedroom for their little container of vibrators or whatever and closes the door. If Yelena wants to, she can join with her fingers or the vibrator or just be there for cuddles and kisses while Kate gets herself off. Or she does whatever she wants outside the bedroom and will come in when Kate calls her for cuddles and making sure Kate washes up and cleans up and changes the sheets if it's needed.

So there's an acknowledgment of Kate's sexual needs and Yelena's asexuality and aversion to sex.

There ya go, anon. The reason why I write smut with ace!Yelena and will continue to write smut with ace!Yelena. And anyone who comes onto my blog to complain or whine that Yelena is "canonically arcoace".... I feel bad that you're so narrow-minded that you can't accept that not everyone accepts your headcanon as the only headcanon that can exist.

[sameheart-sameblood]

All To Myself

(gif by @captainrexs​)

pairing: captain rex x f!reader

summary: bath time with rex usually means trying to get him to relax, but tonight it's your turn to let him help you out

words: 3.1 k

warnings: 18+, smut, bathtime shenanigans (f receiving), rex being the giver we all know he is

a/n: this is purely self-indulgent as i love baths. i would give up all my earthly possessions to take one with rex. this is my first attempt at smut (which is probably obvious lol). kind of didn’t want to release this but got tired of it staring at me whenever i opened word

read on ao3!

Your evenings were usually spent alone. At first, that had bothered you. Rex had come into your life and you wanted nothing more than to be in his presence. The calmness and kindness he exuded was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Being around him made you crave his presence all the more, like spice coursing through your system. You knew his job meant he was needed off planet most of the time. But was it really too much to ask that you see him occasionally while he was back on Coruscant? 

As your relationship went on, you got used to it. Being numb to the canceled dinners and missed special occasions was just what seemed in store for someone who loved a captain in the GAR. Which is why you barely batted an eyelash when he had commed you earlier in the day, rushing an apology about not being able to see you that evening. You might be resigned to the fact that Rex’s life was his job but it still didn’t make it easier to stomach the thought of another night alone. 

The two of you had planned an evening on the town, dinner and dancing. Well, at least you dancing while Rex swayed self-consciously next to you. He hated it and yet he never tried to talk you out of going. It was one of the many things you loved about him. It was these things you remembered when your loneliness got the best of you. So what if Rex couldn’t always be around? Whenever he was with you he made you feel like the only person in the world. 

You contemplate calling your friends to see if they’d like to join you for your planned activities. But you’re feeling sorry for yourself and if you can’t be with Rex, then you’d rather just be by yourself. You decide to keep things simple and take a bath. The thought instantly puts you in a better mood. It’s one of your favorite past-times. 

******

When Rex had first seen your bath routine, he’d been in shock. As someone who was usually only afforded about two minutes to bathe, the thought of taking an hours long bath blew his mind. You’d insisted he try it for himself. He watched as you drew him a bath of his own, adjusting the temperature just right and properly dissolving a few handfuls of epsom salts. 

Before leaving him, you’d dimmed the lights, lit a few sweet smelling candles and turned on some light background music. Lowering himself into the tub, Rex thought the experience might be alright. But after a minute, he was ready to get out. He had tried to understand it, really he had. But as someone always on the go, he couldn’t easily relax, constantly fighting the feeling he should be doing something. 

He didn’t begrudge you taking your baths. After all, he saw how happy they made you and he wanted nothing more than to see you content. But for a soldier, the experience felt like an indulgence he didn’t deserve. 

He had shyly called you back into the bathroom. “I don’t think I’m doing it right, love.” You’d gone in to find him sitting there, looking confused, as if expecting something more to happen. “There’s no wrong way to take a bath, Rex.” Sitting down next on the edge of the porcelain, you’d motioned for him to keep trying. He’d sat back, shoulders tensed towards his ears, staring straight ahead, eyes wide, his whole body on alert. 

You had to stifle a laugh as you watched. “Ok, apparently you have found a wrong way to take a bath.” He’d looked so forlorn at his failure that you had no choice but to shed your clothes and get in, taking a more hands on approach to showing him how to relax. He’d liked baths much more after that…

******

Easing yourself into the water makes you instantly relax. Knowing you’ll most likely spend the rest of the night in here, you make sure to get everything prepared that you might need. Feeling cheeky, you also bring over of your favorite vibrator. You’re not going to be getting any from Rex tonight, so might as well try to have some fun. 

You get to catch up on the book you’re reading, feeling satisfied when you finish the last page. Settling back, you let your mind wander, hands playing at the surface of the water. An accidental glide over your breast sparks something in your belly. You pause, then do it again, imagining it’s Rex’s larger, calloused hand teasing you. You grab the vibrator, placing it next to you. 

Before you delve in, you turn the water on to return some of the warmth the bath has lost. 

Over the roar of the tap, you don’t hear the door open. Someone clears their throat and you whip your head towards the noise. Rex greets you, shoulders slumped with fatigue. “Sorry, love, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

And you must look scared too, you’re eyes double their usual size. You glance at the vibrator, wondering if you have time to hide it. Rex isn’t against your use of toys, in fact he encourages them. But you’re still embarrassed at being caught just about to put it to use. He follows your eyes, his own widening slightly. 

“Ah, so it was going to be that kind of bath?” He chuckles, expression darkening slightly as you squirm under his gaze. He just stands there, looking at you. Oh, he’s actually expecting an answer. “Well, I just figured, you weren’t going to be home, and I was bored and lonely and…” 

You’re rambling now but you can’t stop, even as you watch him slowly remove his armor. He does so tantalizingly slow, nodding along with mock sympathy as you continue. 

“I thought I would be alone for the night and I missed you so much, Rex, honey, I miss you.” 

His face softens at your wavering tone, your sincerity written all over your face. He finishes stacking his armor neatly in the corner. “I missed you too.” He strips out of his blacks, folding them as you openly gawk at him. He allows himself a smirk at your neediness. Finally ridding himself of his clothing, he kneels down next to the bath. He runs his thumb over your cheek. “I’m here now. You don’t need to be lonely anymore.”

That night you had first introduced him to proper bath-time, you’d sat behind him, guiding him on just how to really relax. But tonight, he wants you to be taken care of. He motions for you to scooch forward, then sinks in behind you, groaning softly. You settle into each other, just reveling in the closeness for a moment.

Rex exhales a ragged breath and you feel some of the tension go out of his body. “Tough day?” He pulls you closer, your back pressed to his chest. “Just the usual. Nothing I can’t handle.” You know him well enough now to hear the pain in his tone. He feels you tense, knowing you want to ask him to elaborate, always trying to solve his problems. Rex rubs your arms slowly, soothing you “Not to worry. Everything’ll be fine.”

Rex’s hands continue their hypnotic rubbing. Up and down, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You allow yourself to relax once again but don’t let the matter drop. “You had a long day, Rex. Let me help you unwind.” You try and get out of the bath so you can switch places. But he’s having none of it. He holds you gently in place. “Taking care of you will help me relax, love.”

When you had first gotten together and he would say these kinds of things to you, it was hard to believe him. Could he truly be this selfless? It felt in some way like you were taking advantage of him. As your relationship progressed, you’d come to see that he truly meant things like that. Rex had many love languages but his favorite was acts of service.

Sighing in defeat, you settle back against him. He chuckles at your small sounds of mock protest. Rex nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling your familiar scent of pine and Alderaanian blossoms. For a moment, he breathes you in, forgetting about the world. But as his eyes slowly open, he’s greeted by the sight of your long abandoned vibrator. Rex reaches for it, toying with it. You see what he’s doing and turn towards him. “It’s ok. I’m fine. Let’s just lay here.” 

Your captain may be tired but he’ll be damned if he doesn't fall asleep knowing you've been satisfied. “That’s right. You just lay there. Let me do the work.” The tiny thing clicks on, a buzzing filling the room. Rex lowers it into the water, the vibrations sending out tiny ripples. He pauses hovering above where you need him most. 

“What do you think of when you use this?” You’re so caught off guard by the question that you only let out a confused garble. He gives your thigh a squeeze, chuckling at the state you’re already in. “I haven’t even started yet, love. Use your words.”

After that, there’s no hesitation. “You.” The word comes out in a needy rasp. Rex is right. He hasn't even touched you yet and your body is already wound up so tightly in anticipation that you’re sure you might combust at any moment. “It’s always you, Rex.” You can’t see but his face softens, still so surprised someone would ever care for him like that. 

He rewards you with a lingering kiss on your shoulder and lowers the toy to your already swollen clit. You jolt at the sensation, body automatically trying to get away from it. Rex’s free arm tightens around you, forcing you to stay still and power through the first few seconds of overstimulation. You’re still whimpering, but you soon relax, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. 

He studies your face, your eyes screwed tight and mouth slightly agape. “Is this what you needed?” All you can do is nod but he prompts you to continue, rubbing the vibrator slowly up and down through your folds. Gasping at the new sensation, your eyes pop open to meet his. “I-I…” The arm that had been holding you tightly against him loosens. His hand moves to your breast, massaging gently.

It’s been so long since you’ve had time to take things this slow. Usually he’s only got a few minutes free, leaving time for a rushed rendezvous and nothing more. But tonight you have him all to yourself. No comms beeping to steal his attention, no duty calling him away. It’s as if there’s nothing outside of these four walls and you know it’s an opportunity that won’t come along often. 

Your head lolls to the side as he continues his ministrations. The coil in your belly is tightening quickly but you fight against it, needing something different. Your voice eventually resurfaces, your words on the tail end of a moan. “I- I need you!” Urging life back into your limbs that have since turned to jelly is difficult. But you manage to move your hand to cover his, clicking off the vibrator. 

Rex stills for a moment, trying to figure out what he’s done wrong. Turning your head to look at him, you see his confusion. You reach up to stroke his face, eyes pleading with him. After a moment, you see him understand. It’s something you always want, without fail. He smiles down at you, leaning over you to gently press his lips to yours. 

The vibrator is quickly abandoned on the side of the tub. With both hands free, Rex can really touch you, hands roaming about at his leisure. You sigh contently as his rough fingers trail along the sides of your body, then upwards to tease your nipples. The embers in your belly that had dimmed slightly are now burning brightly once again. He senses this and lowers a hand to your clit. 

At first, he just runs his fingers through your folds. He doesn’t mean to tease, he just hasn’t been able to feel you, to truly appreciate you in so long. But your whine pulls him out of his trance and he begins to rub circles that leave you gasping for air. He begins slowly, making sure you're happy with the direction things are going. 

Rex holds in his chuckle as he peers down at you. Your head has once again tipped back against him. But now, your face has gone slack, no tightness or tenseness to be found. Only pleasure. His free hand moves between your breasts, squeezing, massaging and tugging, making sure neither is neglected. He sees just how much your chest is heaving and decides to give you your reward. You’ve been so patient for him. 

His hand tugs at your thigh, pulling you out of your daze. “What are you - “ He lifts your leg and hooks it over the edge of the tub, spreading you wider for better access. You moan pitifully as the hand that had been rubbing circles delves back in. There’s so much more of you he can touch now and it makes you tremble. He beams down at you proudly, seeing how much this slight change is bringing you closer to the edge. 

You're tensing under him, back beginning to bow. Your sudden movement brings attention to his erection that’s been slowly growing. He can’t help when he automatically begins to grind against you. But Rex knows you well enough now to realize he only has a few more seconds before you're toppling into oblivion. His release can wait. 

Abandoning your breast, his hand slides up to your neck, applying the slightest pressure. You keen at the feeling. It’s not a show of dominance. It’s Rex reminding you that he’s there for you, a comforting presence that makes you feel perpetually taken care of. 

You twist your neck so you can gape up at him. The hand on your clit continues it’s work, doubling down its efforts. Throughout the experience, you’d been gripping the sides of the tub for dear life. But now, you bring one up to cover Rex’s hand that’s enclosed around your neck. Even through your haze of lust, your heart aches at the pure love radiating from his eyes. 

You're too far gone, unable to form words. All you can do is moan and hope he can decipher it. If you weren't in such a compromising position you would have to laugh. Asking someone to be able to decipher your desires without words. But thankfully Rex knows you like the back of his hand. He knows what you're asking, what last thing you need to make you let go. Loosening his grip on your neck, he uses it to hold your face, crashing your lips together. 

The kiss doesn’t break, even as you writhe under him. You try to turn away from him as you come, but he holds you to him, needing to feel you as much as you needed to feel him. The water is sloshing over the sides of the tub, your once full bath almost halfway empty. Rex breaks the kiss, letting the aftershocks of your release play out. 

He rubs soothingly against your thighs, watching as you twitch. You collapse onto him, finally beginning to break through the fog. The ability to form a coherent sentence seems to have left you. All you can manage is a weak sigh of his name. It’s the only thing you can remember and, in all honesty, you’d die a happy woman if that was the only thing you could utter for the rest of your life. 

“Was that what you needed, love?” Rex nuzzles into your neck as you chuckle. “Apparently more than I realized.” The rubbing at your sides pauses. You look to Rex to see what’s wrong and find his face twisted with guilt. “This isn’t right. If I can’t give you the attention you need then I don’t deserve you.” This isn’t the first time you've had this conversation and you're sure it wont be the last. 

But you’re happy to reassure your lover, as many times as you need to. “You give me everything I need, Rex. You’re smart, brave, funny, kind, supportive, sexy.” He lowers his eyes at the last word, smiling demurely. “I don’t know how I got so lucky. You give me everything and so much more. And I mean, if you don’t believe me, just look.” You laugh, gesturing at your bathroom, now in a state of disrepair, water on the floor, shampoo and soap bottles scattered, candles burnt down to messy puddles. 

Rex chuckles but looks contrite, rubbing his neck shyly. “Guess we got a little carried away.” He’s already made you come once, and spectacularly at that. But just the sight of him has those butterflies in your belly stirring to life again. You bat your eyelashes. “Now will you let me take care of you?” He closes his eyes, sighing tiredly. His cock, still hard against your back is evidence enough, but his muscles sag with fatigue.

“I want you more than anything. But I think I have just enough energy to clean this mess and then fall into bed.” Shaking your head, you gently extricate yourself from his arms. You stand on shaky legs as you hold out your hand for him. “Everything else can wait. Let me show you how much I missed you, Captain.” 

His eyes widen, lust beginning to cloud his gaze. You don’t use his title often, knowing how riled up it gets him to hear the word fall from your lips. But you need the big guns tonight, refusing to leave him wanting. Rex grabs for you and lets you lead him through the ruined bathroom and into your bedroom. 

He takes one last look at the state you’re leaving the room in. “But we should really clean this…” You lead him to the bed and softly push him down on to it. He looks up at you with doe eyes as you straddle his hips. “We will, honey. But no sense cleaning up now when we’re just about to make another mess.”

[sweetbitterimpossiblecreature]

A Brief And Concise Summary Of Is Wrong With The ACOTAR Series

I think we can agree that a lot of ACOTAR is pretty iffy. Consider this a very brief refresher.

What's Wrong With Feyre/Rhysand (juxtaposed against Feyre/Tamlin)

Rhysand drugs and sexually assaults her in Book 1

This is "for her own good". Because he "has no choice". Despite the fact that, from what we know of the plot, Amarantha thinks that Clare Beddor was the one Rhysand was diddling, and is only interested in Feyre because Rhysand, "her" man male, has taken an interest in her.

If we extrapolate from this we can figure that Rhysand is the one directly putting her into danger.

Now, let's be clear: drugging someone is bad. Sexually assaulting someone is bad. One could argue there were extenuating circumstances. But if, in such a situation, what your mind goes to is "I know, I should assault this person... for their safety" I have questions about your moral qualities. There were a million things he could have done. He could have done whatever he did to Clare - that is, remove her ability to feel any pain - easily. He could have helped her escape. Under The Mountain, he - while still there unwillingly - has a lot of power, as Amarantha's side piece. Maybe this would have resulted in him being punished- however, he is hundreds of years old and a badass motherfucker, and she is a nineteen year old human girl.

Now, onto Tamlin. Obviously not a lot of people really ship F/T anymore after ACOMAF, because compared to F/R, it's boring. I read another person's post about it, which was very enlightening: they said that Feyre's personality is essentially a mirror. When she is with Rhysand, she's snarky and malicious- because she is "bouncing off" his energy. When she's with Mor she's super feminist and "in awe of her strength". On the other hand, Tamlin is kind of an empty character. He's a pretty boy with anger issues, which should be more interesting than it is. SJM manages to make him bland. Because Feyre has nothing to bounce off of, (a lot of this is from the person's post), she and Tamlin together is mainly just him introducing her to his world.

What Tamlin Does: prevents a skinny twenty year old from going on dangerous missions with him and combat-trained soldiers, accidentally blows up a room with her in it, and, at the end, prevents her from leaving the house.

This is not a Tamlin apologist post. Obviously it was really fucking gross of him to do that, and their relationship was toxic. However, a lot of his abuse stems from their inability to communicate, as well as own negligence. He does not knowingly and purposefully sexually assault her or rape her mind. And tbh, leaving a girl without combat training at home while he goes on missions with a bunch of muscled sentries is... kind of reasonable?

Again: not a Tamlin apologist post. It was abuse. However, if Rhysand is "allowed" to sexually assault, mind-rape, and drug Feyre "for her own safety", why is Tamlin demonized for preventing her from leaving his mansion "for her own safety"?

Another pertinent point: Rhys is never punished for sexually assaulting her. It is brushed off as part of his "mask" or that his hand was forced. Jesus Christ my dudes, his hand was not forced under her skirt. If he has to maintain his gross rapist abuser tyrant oppressor mask... why? Who did that benefit beside him? None of his actions remotely helped Prythian. They were done solely for his buddies - five people safe in a rich hidden city - and no one else, which is explicitly stated.

Finally, the power dynamic is fucked up. Feyre is less than twenty five years old. Rhysand is 500. There is a tendency in fantasy romance to romanticize a centuries year old man with a young girl, because the man does not show symptoms of age, and so it is easily ignorable. However, can we just briefly acknowledge how fucked up it is? Rhys is over five times older than Donald Trump, Harvey Weinstein, Jeffrey Epstein, and other known predators/abusers. She is twenty. That is really fucking gross. She is in a vulnerable position and he takes rampant advantage of that.

If he had wrinkles, liver problems, and erectile dysfunction, more people would acknowledge it.

Let's be clear: I'm not saying writing a book with an uneven power dynamic is automatically bad. For example, in The Locked Tomb series, which is in my opinion THE BEST FANTASY SERIES THAT HAS GRACED THIS EARTH (lol i'm starting fires), one main character Harrowhark Nonagesimus is in a position of power over Gideon Nav, the other main character. However, this is not glossed over or romanticized. Gideon resents Harrow for this- there is a relationship of mutual antagonism, fraught with unwilling familiarity and intimacy from growing up together. They are roughly the same age. While there is a certain power dynamic (in that world, there is a dynamic of necromancer and cavalier, i.e. sorcerer and sword) the "empowered" character (Harrow) emphatically respects her and does not abuse this power, although both would of course deny this, and she does make a show of threatening and being aloof. In short, while Gideon obeys her, Gideon also has power over Harrow, and the idea of what is essentially slavery is not romanticized.

Feyre Doesn't Face Any Consequences For Her Own Actions

Let me present a radical notion: a guy preventing you from leaving his house does not justify completely fucking ruining his country and harming the people inside it.

In other words: Tamlin does not deserve what she did to him.

I know that sounds iffy. We're conditioned to think that if someone is an abuser, then they are the scum of the earth, they deserve to die, torturing/murdering/doing anything to them is completely A-OK. However, here's another radical notion: someone harming you does not justify you doing worse.

Obviously, the effects of psychological abuse can cause you to hurt other people (see: Nesta), but Feyre deliberately and maliciously (oh, God, that insufferable POV of her in Spring Court; she reads like a cartoonish Disney villain) dismantles his country. She uses sexual manipulation (Lucien), torture (causing the sentry to be whipped), and mind-rape (who didn't she do this to? lol).

A summary of the entire first half of ACOWAR: "It smelled like roses. I hated roses. For this capital offense against my olfactory system, Tamlin and the entire Spring Court deserved to burn in hell. I knew exactly what I was doing. I smiled at him sweetly: no longer a doe, but a wolf. He didn't see my fangs.............." *aesthetic noises*

Man. I'm starting to think SJM had a horrible experience at a Bath & Body Works and took it out on the rest of us. Don't do it, Sarah!! I know Pink Chiffon and Triple Berry Martini are way too strong, but don't take it out on an innocent population!!

She steals from Summer Court (there are, yk, other solutions to theft. Like maybe asking politely) and ruins Spring Court. Her boyfriend - yeesh sorry, MATE - does nothing while a dozen Winter Court children are murdered.

Now: moral ambiguity is not automatically bad. Again using The Locked Tomb as an example, in the second book (spoiler alert), Harrowhark has a sort of moral ambiguity. She was raised from the beginning to worship the King Undying as God, and so she obeys him without question. Because of this, she commits a lot of crimes in His name: she "flips" - i.e. kills - the life force of planets, and she plots murder (albeit the murder of someone who tried to kill her first). There is no attempt to justify this. There is also no attempt to paint her as a virtuous and yet also badass Madonna figure. She is desperate, plagued with the "wreck of herself", and the book clearly displays her moral pitfalls. While her POV is of course colored by her mindset, it also is limited by her lack of information, and we as readers can acknowledge that.

BACK TO ACOTAR: Feyre is seen by everyone as gorgeous, formidable, and essentially perfect. Rhys sees her as flawless, "made for him", wonderful, beautiful, blah blah blah. (THEY ARE SO BAD FOR EACH OTHER; THEY EXCUSE AND GLORIFY EACH OTHER'S CRIMES, IT'S SO BAD, GUYYYS). Tamlin is insanely batshit in love with her, or whatever. To the Night Court she's the High Lady. In this way she personifies the Mary Sue character. (Excerpt from the TV Tropes page on Mary Sues: "She's exotically beautiful, often having an unusual hair or eye color, and has a similarly cool and exotic name. She's exceptionally talented in an implausibly wide variety of areas, and may possess skills that are rare or nonexistent in the canon setting. She also lacks any realistic, or at least story-relevant, character flaws — either that or her "flaws" are obviously meant to be endearing. She has an unusual and dramatic Back Story. The canon protagonists are all overwhelmed with admiration for her beauty, wit, courage and other virtues, and are quick to adopt her as one of their True Companions, even characters who are usually antisocial and untrusting; if any character doesn't love her, that character gets an extremely unsympathetic portrayal." Sound familiar?)

There is the Ourobous scene. And yet, paradoxically, while presented as an acknowledgment of her flaws, it is in fact a rejection of them. She sees her own brutality... and instead of recognizing that she has these deep, deep moral flaws and realizing that she needs to grow and be better, she in fact "accepts" them.

Guys: Self love means: "I'm important to me, so I'm going to get a massage today after work", or "heck, why not splurge on some expensive lotion, you only live once" or "you know what? I had a tough day today. I'm going to get that strawberry cupcake". SELF LOVE DOES NOT MEAN "oh, I accept all the war crimes I have done, I love myself". LOVING YOURSELF DOES NOT MEAN ABSOLVING YOURSELF OF ALL WRONGDOING.

It's this refusal to acknowledge wrongdoing that is so grating about ACOTAR. It's so goddamn one-sided. And you can tell that after Book 1, SJM decided to completely change the trajectory simply because of how jarring Book 2 reads compared to the first one.

Also: Feyre is a very, very young girl (compared to the other ruling fey) who did not know how to read for the majority of her life. She has no experience whatsoever in politics. Her being High Lady is not a win for feminism.

Rhysand: He Sucks

First, he is 500 years old. He should be written as such, not as some 20 year old virile frat boy feminist. Fantasy is all the more compelling for its elements of realism, which is a concept that SJM does not appear to grasp.

Second of all, his morals are absurd. He is written as the Second Coming of Christ, as someone who can do no wrong, ever, and his flaws only serve to make Feyre love him more. Anything shitty he does is written as part of his "mask" and she can See Beneath It and knows that it "hurts" him to maintain this "mask".

Fellas, WHY DOES HE HAVE TO MAINTAIN THIS MASK???? There is no reason for it. If A) he does not give a shit about Court of Nightmares (we'll get back to that), only about Velaris, and B) Velaris is hidden/protected from the world, what is he pretending for?

It would not hurt him politically to be seen as someone who cares about his country.

"Pretending" to be "Amarantha's whore" does not in any way shape or form benefit the macro-world that is Prythian. In Amarantha's name, he commits atrocities. He commits war crimes; he systemically oppresses entire societies. It doesn't even really benefit Velaris, because Velaris is already hidden.

Let me put this in a real-world perspective. This would be like if Donald Trump was suddenly like: "I know I was a shitty president but IT WAS ALL PART OF MY MASK, WHICH WAS TO PROTECT THIS MICROCOSM OF PRIVILEGED PEOPLE THAT I CARE ABOUT". Like: okay? Sorry, or whatever, but I don't actually give a shit. What about the parents of the children who died? What about Clare Beddor? What about the people who were held in slavery, murdered, tortured?

Rhysand: omg it sucks that my cousin Mor was oppressed by this toxic misogynistic culture from the Court of Nightmares.

Also Rhysand: lol whatever, who gives a shit about Court of Nightmares. They all suck. They meanie. Lol what did you say? That there might be other girls just like Mor who are oppressed by this system? Lol whatever. I can't do anything, I gotta maintain my Mask. I gotta sit on this throne and show the entire Court that not respecting women is completely okay.

In summary: by parading Feyre around as his "whore" (!!) he demonstrates by example that it is completely okay for the Court of Nightmares to abuse their women.

A good ruler cares about all his people. Rhysand cares about a tiny tiny fraction of his people: those who were fortunate enough to be born into Velaris.

God, I'm exhausted. Onto Nesta:

The only character who successfully breaks the Mary Sue effect Feyre exerts on her people is Nesta. Her POV for the first half is a joy to read.

Obviously it sucks that Nesta was a huge bitch to Feyre for the beginning of her childhood. However, it was wrong for Rhysand to threaten her- he is a man male with a huge insane amount of power, and it is not okay for him to threaten to bring the brunt of it down on a young girl because she was a bitch to his girlfriend.

I've seen a lot of discourse on the morality of F/R sending her out of Velaris. Here is my two cents:

It was okay for them to cut her off of their money. If they don't want to enable her self-harm, that is their choice. Again, it's their money, even if it wasn't fairly earned (Rhysand born into an enormous fortune).

It was not okay for them to banish her from Velaris with the implication that she was an embarrassment. Let me explain.

If Rhysand and Feyre are talking to her as sister/brother-in-law, then that is that. They have the complete right to express disapproval and try to help. However, they should not be using their royal privilege against her.

If they are talking to her as ruler to subject, then they have the power to banish her from the city. However, a ruler would not give a shit about a random subject getting drunk and having sex. So, they should not be talking her about her problems as a ruler to subject.

I've heard it compared to her being sent to rehab. However, rehab is a system designed to help people with certain problems. It has specialized medical centers and involves therapy. Nesta gets her life threatened multiple times. It is not rehab.

In summary: why did SJM inflict this upon us. Throne of Glass was actually good! GAHHH! After the first few books she completely whipped around and introduced the idea of males and mates and fey and that C is actually A and the quality took a huge nosedive. Sigh.

Final horrible but unmistakable truth: The entire ACOTAR series reads like a bad A/B/O fic. I hate to say it but it's true. We're lucky there were no heat cycles. OH WAIT

[luna-rainbow]

i just realized florence pugh is credited on hawkeye's imdb page as appearing in four episodes and i'm so upset at this knowledge. like i knew because of black widow's credit scene they were gonna send her after clint 🙄 eventually, but i thought we'd at least have some breathing room before they shoved yelena into the villain role 😔. is no character that's been brainwashed/programmed/mind-controlled against their will allowed to rest in the mcu? maybe i need to write a yelena/bucky/loki/clint coffee shop au for my own peace of mind lol, bc marvel just refuses to let them heal and be happy for any amount of time and it's just not fun anymore ugh. yelena should be *bonding* with clint over the loss of natasha, not some stupid revenge thing that makes no sense if it's common knowledge natasha chose to push herself off the side of the cliff. i want to hope that it will come to that, that clint explains what happened bc yelena somehow didn't get the memo, and she's like "oh okay, let's stop fighting, wanna take our dogs on a doggy play date?" or something less silly but plausible, but i just don't trust the mcu at all anymore and they want all the traumatized characters to be villains/have even more trauma forced on them so like. sigh. do you think there's a chance it could go like that or that yelena is definitely being set up to be in thunderbolts/a villain?

Sorry! I was meaning to answer this about a week ago but now Hawkeye's out (and I haven't watched it) I'm not sure if this is still applicable.

A subtle point of difference is that I have no issue with victims having an arc where they might be someone else's antagonist, or even do the wrong thing. I've said many times before, I would have loved Bucky to have an arc where he went on a killing rampage against Hydra. I find it far more interesting narratively to explore how their trauma has broken their world view, and I love watching a character struggle with appeasing their rage versus holding onto their sense of morality.

The thing that gets me on the soapbox is a) when their traumatic experience as a victim is intentionally framed to make them complicit and align them with their abusers; and b) they have a sudden characterisation change that isn't backed up in the writing.

Personally, I love the idea of Yelena confronting Clint. I think it's in character - this is a girl who had just come out of 20 years of mind-control, and then lost the sister who was the closest thing to a family. Nat had spoken highly of Clint and worn an arrow around her neck. There's only Clint's version of the story available - who knows what really happened on that planet? Yelena, trained as a spy, is not going to trust anyone, and caught in her anger and grief, might rightfully suspect or blame Clint for it. I'd love for her to fight Clint, for her to gradually recognise the shared grief and loss, to forgive - not Clint, but herself for not spending more time with Nat, because that's where the real anger is coming from - and then to acknowledge Clint as a friend. I mean, it's the perfect enemies to coworkers trope.

Antagonist doesn't automatically equate to villain. Unfortunately this is something MCU writers mess up constantly. My understanding of villainy is that there needs to be broader aiming malice, and not targeted animosity.

The thing with the Thunderbolts is that TFATWS had gone out of its way to make Walker and Zemo sympathetic, so Yelena being there might not be a bad thing, because Black Widow also went out of its way to hype up her character.

Side rant: the more I think about the "everyone likes Walker" quote the more upset I get. Rhodey knew about Sam being offered the mantle, so Steve passing it to Sam is not secret knowledge, yet Walker had the audacity to call Sam Cap's Wingman and then scream at Sam "I am Captain America", then for Skogland to follow that up with "everyone likes Walker"...like wtf?

[vannybarber]

The Prenup: Final Chapter

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

You lied.

You didn't come back the day after. Or the next day. In fact, you stayed at the hotel for almost a week. You didn't stay in the same clothes of course. You went out to buy everything you needed. Clothes, hygiene products, prenatal vitamins. You were the saddest and most ridiculous thing to walk this earth.

Lisa and Scott eventually came over with your permission of course. You couldn't say no to them. You weren't upset with them.

"How've you been, sweetie?" They both look for your answer, trying to read your face.

"To tell you the truth, I actually feel like an asshole. I honestly realize how immature I was. Chris definitely was, but I was stooping to that level myself. But I won't admit to him just yet. I want him to recognize how immature he was too."

It was crazy to even hear it from your own mouth. But you had time to think it over. You recognized how stupid you looked living in a hotel because you couldn't put your immaturity aside.

"Well this might be a shock to you, but I had a talk with him also and it might've did something." You make eye contact with her and your eyebrows jump. Indeed, you were surprised. She continues.

"I know you guys will be able to resolve this. But you need to try. You've have been together too long to let this get in between you two. I think he finally understands." She sets her hand on yours, which was placed in your lap.

He finally understood? You had to see this for yourself. You hoped to everything that she was right. You actually wanted to fix this and he needed to be on board and feel the same way.

It occurred to you after some time that his points were actually valid. It was just the way he came across is all. You were in your own feelings and took it really personal, which was understandable, but you got stubborn. Even though he got a prenup for his own reasons, you felt as if he didn't love you as much as you love him.

This could all be fixed, but he needed to set some boundaries with Megan. He had no choice. Wait till she finds out about the baby. Evidently none of the other Evans' knew about the baby because it was never brought up. You secretly thank Chris for keeping that between you guys, even though he was most likely still upset that you weren't gonna tell him about the baby right away.

You both are grown ass adults and you're having a child together. This bullshit needed to end.

"Oh my gosh this is great !! All my shit talking did some good." Lisa clears her throat at him. "Along with Ma's great advice of course." You just laugh. You loved your family.

"I think I'm ready to see him. Scratch that. I am ready to see him. I want my fianceé back." You smile and grasp your hands together. You don't think you've ever seen them smile so hard.

"Oh yeah we know you're pregnant." You stop smiling and stare at Scott like you've been caught in the cookie jar. "You know Chris can't keep his big mouth shut." Well that's a Gemini for you.

"Now its really important that you solve this. You're bringing another life into the world!" Lisa exclaims. "Plus I'm gonna have another grandbaby!!"

You giggle and shake your head. "Well we need to head over there right now then!"

Little did you know Chris was on the exact same page as you. Down to every line and every word.

He has always been indecisive and this situation really forced him to take some responsibility and rethink his behavior. You had all the reason to feel the way you did, his intentions clearly being missed by you. Whatever they even were.

He also decided that he was going to set Megan straight about his personal life and respecting you. You were his future wife. And now that you're bringing a baby into the world, she definitely needed to be put in check. He can't even believe how he allowed her to disrespect you like this.

Now he only hoped that you'd want to sort this out and forgive him. He needed you no matter what he said. He did make up excuses because your relationship was too good to be true. He's never had a connection like this before. He never allowed it, but clearly it was for a reason because it give you a chance to come in his life and completely change it for the better.

When he had gotten home from visiting you, his feelings were all over the place. Upset that you didn't come back with him and guilty for making you feel the way you did. He just felt like he was doing the right thing because Megan told him to. Deep down inside, he really didn't even want to get the stupid prenup anyway.

"So where's Y/N? Is she okay?" Shanna asked for everyone. They all expected you to come back too. They didn't know you were this stubborn.

"She's alright. She said she wasn't ready to come back just yet. Which I completely understand. But I feel like a failed once again." He slumps on the couch and lies back. "I don't deserve her at all."

"Now Chris, you know what you have. And what you have is good. Better than anything you had before. You two were made for each other. You're a hard head and I know you're not giving up this easily" Lisa says to him, taking a seat to his right.

"You know she's pregnant." He really shouldn't have said that and he knows it, but he can't keep a secret to save his own life. Everyone in the room gasps. "I found the tests in the bathroom. If I didn't go in there and discover them myself, she wasn't planning on telling me yet."

"Well she probably wanted to fix this before adding more on top of it." Scott adds. And he was absolutely correct.

"Well I'm happy for you! But I you still have this going on." Lisa's voice goes from excited to monotone. She's super happy, but she wished this could have been evented at a much better time.

"Well this could've made things better...or worse." Chris throws his NASA cap on the couch angrily.

Carly speaks up.

"You and Scott should go visit her. I doubt she'll turn it down."

"Yeah Ma. We should see where her heads at. Maybe her mind will change with our advice" Scott agrees. He loves you as a sister. Anything threatening that would have to be put to death immediately.

"Guys, I don't know about that. She seemed pretty definite on how she felt." Chris didn't want to make it worse than what it was, but he always found a way to do that anyway.

"Chris come on" Scott drags out. "We have to try."

"Y/N is a smart girl. She knows what she needs to do and it will come to her. I know it'll work out. And when it does, you'll realize your love is inevitable." Lisa smiles knowing she is absolutely right.

Now she just waits for it all to fall in place.

You were currently outside in the driveway of your house. You drove back there in your car with Lisa and Scott behind you. When you arrived, you hopped in her car to discuss how this was going to go.

Looking at the property, you admit missed your place, but you allowed your infantilism to get in the way.

"Okay he's in there, but he doesn't know you're coming back." Scott speaks lowly from the back seat.

"Wait you didn't tell him?" You snap around mystified. Why did they not tell him?

"Because we wanted it to be a surprise. Well I wanted it to be a surprise." He corrects himself when Lisa throws him a look through the rear view mirror.

"Well um okay. Then this just has to play out itself. Hopefully he's happy to see me..?" You were unsure yourself. The little intimate moment you had before he left couldn't dictate how he'd feel now.

"I'm positive he is, but you won't know unless you get up in there. Go ahead! We'll get your stuff," Lisa encourages. You think she's more excited than anyone. You thank her with a kiss on the cheek and high five Scott then head out of the car. You walk up the driveway to the front door. You didn't get the key out your bag so you rang the doorbell.

A few moments, the door is jerked open. You automatically know he didn't even look through the peephole before he opened the door. He needs to stop doing that.

You appear in his vision and he pauses.

"Y/N? Baby?" Incredulity is all in his voice.

"Yes, that is my name." You giggle. "Can I come in?"

"Uh of course! You live here, ya know." He steps back so you can walk inside. Walking through the threshold, you look around the house as if it was foreign to you. For whatever reason, you expected some dramatic changes. One thing that didn't change is his shoes in the middle of the floor. His bad habit.

"Chris what did I say about your shoes in the walkway?" You scold him and move them to the corner with his others. You can't count how many times you've almost fell face first because of his shoes in the way and truthfully, you not watching where you're going.

"Sorry I forget a lot" he says sheepishly with a tiny smile on his face stopping behind you. This makes your corners turn up as well.

You stand facing him and him facing you. Neither of you say anything. You can't tell if it is because you don't know what to say or that you just really missed each other's faces. Before you do speak, Lisa and Scott are inside with your things.

"Oh guys just put that stuff on the couch. Thank you again!" You point to the sofa, absentmindedly moving closer to Chris.

"We need to talk." Turning back to him, you nod. You remember why you're here in the first place. You needed to put an end to this.

"Right. Patio?" You always go out there to have conversations or just to chill with each other. He nods his head and turns to his family.

"We're gonna go outside and talk for a bit. Okay?"

"Oh yes take all the time you need," Lisa exclaims, shooing you both off. Scott is grinning himself. You just smile and walk to the back door onto the patio. Chris follows quickly behind.

Once you both get outside, you sit down. You wouldn't say it was awkward, but there was definitely some tension. You decide to break it.

"I'm really sorry, Chris."

"Baby I'm so sorry."

Guess he wanted to as well. You were about to talk, but he spoke up first.

"I want to apologize first. I was completely wrong here. I was being an asshole and I deserved everything you said to me. And everything Scott said to me as well." He rolls his eyes at that part. You could only imagine the dragging Scott was giving him. "I allowed Megan to disrespect you and that was a dick move. No one should allow their partner to be treated like that. You're were going to my wife and I stooped that low. I'm truly sorry." He searches in your eyes for something to let him know that you forgave him, knew that he was really sorry at least.

You look away about to let the flood come like Noah and the Arc. You've been waiting to hear that for a while and you knew he meant every word. But now it was your turn. Clearing your throat and wiping your eyes, you speak up.

"This isn't completely your fault, baby." You take his hands in yours. "I am also guilty as well. I acted so immature and didn't even truly try to resolve this because I wanted to victimize myself the whole time. Although you were acting like a huge dick, I still played a part. I am so sorry for not planning on telling you about the baby. That was unfair of me. I know that you love me and that I am important to you, so if you still want me to sign the prenup, I'll do it."

Hearing the words come from your mouth surprised you both. He didn't think you'd ever give in and you sure as hell were making sure you wouldn't. But here you are agreeing to it because you love him that much and wanted to make him happy. Your relationship would work so it would never come to be used. You had strong faith in that.

"That's another thing." He shakes his head and you're now confused. "I don't want you to sign a prenup. We're not doing that. I already plan on talking to Megan about it. And I'm going to address her on knowing her place working for me. Since you know that I love you, so fucking much, I don't need to worry about money. Nor a divorce. Like Ma said, we were made for each other and I'll be damned if I let you get away from me."

"So no prenup?" You needed to hear it again.

"No prenup, love." He grins at you, squeezing your hands. You pull from his grip and jump up busting out random dance moves. His mouth is ajar.

"No prenup! Ain't signing no prenup! Lalalalalaaaaa! No prenup!" After your little dance number, you sit back down with no shame. You needed that.

"I'm glad that you finally came to your senses, Christopher. Your mother taught you well" you say in a pompous manner. He just can't help but laugh. You truly were something else.

"We have a little one coming soon and we have to be out best selves for them. Pinky promise each other that we never ever argue and not fix it in a matter of 25 minutes ever again?" He holds out his pinky finger waiting for yours.

"I promise." You wrap yours around his and grin. "So we're good?"

"Well there is one more thing." He stands up and reaches in his pocket. He pulls out your engagement ring and gets on one knee. Just when you had no tears left to cry.

"Y/N, baby, will you be my fianceé again?" You laugh breathlessly and nod your head.

"Yes, you meatball!" He slips the ring back on your finger and you jump in his arms. Almost knocking him over, he grabs your face and kisses you. You wasted zero time kissing him back because you needed it. It had been so long.

Finally pulling away and balancing your breaths like you just ran a 5k, you both make eye contact and burst out into laughter.

"Come on. Let's go tell them." He grabs your hands and you rush inside the house. Heading into the living room you see them both watching with anticipation.

"So?" Scott speaks and they both stand up.

"Guess who's getting married ?!"

HELP-😌 im so proud of myself. i decided to end this with a nice fluff. it was well deserved. i read you guy's comments and it influenced how i wrote it. some of you mentioned immaturity in y/n and that was really valid. and the point about the prenup making sense.

thank you so much for reading. i am honestly so grateful that you guys liked it. i didn't expect it to blow up like it did. im crying now so bye ✌🏽🤧❤

tags:

@mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessycatth @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @dauntless2022 @allboutdatmarvel @ineedpineapple @illyrianprincess @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @marianas-studyblr @obliviatevamps @thevelvetseries @coffeebooksandfandom @shamelessfangirl-3 @quietmyfearswith @kissme-hs @lvgllre @arabescapr @careless-intuition @lady-x-red @donutloverxo @princess-evans-addict

[imagine-loki]

Weird question, but how are you really nice to some people but really vicious to others on here. Is it the same person answering all posts or does one of you handle the jerks?

There's only one person running this blog. @wolfpawn. I answer all messages, asks, requests, love, hate and outright BS.

How can I be both? Because I need to be. I live my life as positively as possible. I smile at people. I say hello. I like being nice. I do my best to be so as often as possible. When people come onto the page and are not rude, my automatic setting is nice. And not even customer service version of nice, actually nice. I want to help. Because I do this for free, I don't feel forced into it for a paycheck.

When people come on here with attitude or notions of self-importance and grandeur, I get very protective of our space. I don't have patience for Karens and their dictatorship notions of what the internet should do to facilitate their insane ideas of "acceptable". I don't care if you hate swearing, I don't care if you don't like "dark" subject matters. I don't care if you feel a perfectly common word is "offensive" (obviously, there's words that are and that's understable, but idiot and stupid are not ableist in non-internet society, just bullying when used to abuse the disabled, the R word is specifically used to be ableist, there is a difference). I have no time for a*holes. I have no time to mollycoddle other human beings that are supposed to be able to make their own decisions.

If you are on this page and under 18, if you click on clearly marked 18+ material, I don't care. I don't care if you like it, I don't care if you hate it. I don't mean that in a negative way, merely, I won't interfere with your experience of the world. I won't judge you on what subjects you consume on this page. But I especially don't care (and I mean, I could down 40 laxatives and not give one tiny shit) when you click on something on the page that is clearly marked with triggers, etc, read it and then come to bitch to me that your precious innocence is ruined and it's our fault when you didn't take responsibility for your actions. And if you get ratty about it, I will not give you one inch of ground to think you can stand on for coming here and being horrible about the page, its readers or its contributors.

I like to be nice but I love what we have made here and no a*hole is going to come here and treat anyone badly in this space. This is not a political blog. It doesn't matter what party you support, what country you are from, what colour skin you have, what your sexuality is, that's for other areas of Tumblr/the internet to worry about. All that I care about is we appreciate Loki in this space and woe betide the MF who comes here looking to upset our little spot.