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calisources · 6 months

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CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT. a collection of quotes and scenarios about vampires. change pronouns/names as you see fit. These were all taken from different sources of fiction, both in literature and audiovisual media. all known triggers for vampire media apply (blood, death, murder, gothic horror, obsessive love and more).

SENTENCES AND QUOTES. change pronouns and names, locations as you see fit.

"I took mythology a lot more seriously since I’d become a vampire."

“None of us really changes over time; we only become more fully what we are.”

"A vampire, like a lady, never reveals his true age."

"How do we seem to you? Do you find us beautiful and magical?”

"The strength of the vampire is that people will not believe in him."

"Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!"

"The blood is the life!"

"Loving the monsters always ends badly for the humans. It's a rule."

“When people see good, they expect good. I don't want to have to live up to anyone's expectations.”

“Love is a vampire’s greatest weakness. And we are not weak.”

“You know that old saying. Once you go dead, no one's better in bed.”

“For a hundred years I offered ugly death to everyone I met, and I did it with a song in my heart.”

"I'm not human. And I miss it. I miss it more than anything in the world. That is my secret."

“I'm in love with a woman I can never have. The point is I'm in love with her and it's driving me crazy. I'm not in control.”

"Your life is pathetic. Your after-life doesn't have to be."

"Life sucks either way, Jeremy. At least if you're a vampire, you don't have to feel bad about it if you don't want to."

"You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure and even a little danger."

"Sometimes the world turns good people into bad people."

"People have been after me for a thousand years, but I'm always one step ahead."

"Mother made us vampires. She didn't make us monsters. We did that to ourselves."

"Perhaps one day, in a year or even in a century. You'll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer."

"Do you have any idea how rare love is? In a thousand years, I have found it but twice, and when I have, I have honored it."

"You're a vampire, sweetheart. I don't think you'll ever be okay again."

“When you feel the blood rush in, you tell yourself that you’re gonna get through it; that you’re strong enough.”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to forget the past, Elena.”

“I wanna rip into your skin. And I wanna feed on your blood. Under your skin.”

“I just want one taste. That''s all I need. I just want one taste.”

“There’s the briefest of moments before we kill, where we literally hold their life in our hands and then rip it away, and we’re left with nothing.”

“Do you know the secret to immortality?”

“The vampire bond. There is no human equivalent.”

“He was my mentor, my murderer, my maker.”

“When was the last time you drank blood?”

“Left you with a bit of a craving, didn’t it? One day that craving is gonna grow.”

“That's cause you took my life! I got nothing. I lost everything. I lost my brother. I lost my family. About to lose the last fucking thing I care about.”

“And then I watched you pull over and drain a dog. And run down an alleyway for two more rats. This is not a life!”

“Hunting is an art. You have the power to subdue anyone you want, but sometimes restraint is your most powerful weapon.”

“What does this taste like to you?”

“There is one thing about being a vampire that I must fear above all else, and that is loneliness. You can't imagine the emptiness. The void.”

“Vampires are killers. Apex predators whose all-seeing eyes were meant to give them detachment. The ability to see a human life in its entirety.”

“Don’t underestimate the allure of the darkness. Even the purest hearts are drawn to it.”

“End of the day, human life is just a means to an end. Our means to our end.”

“A mutual law of nature is the strong always take from the weak.”

“It’s better to have a flawed life lived than wasted rotting away in clay.”

“Hatred, a pure and perfect hatred that’s greater now than the day I first took your life.”

“A thousand years of history isn’t going to write itself.”

“I can’t be killed.”

“I’m the monster lesser monsters fear.”

"I have crossed oceans of time to find you."

"You don't know what you are asking of me. To drink from you."

"You need blood, take it."

"To walk with me you must die to your breathing life, and be reborn to mine."

"I love you, Stefan. We will be together again. I promise."

"You loved me once, you will love me again."

"I made him. Did you know that?"

"I never compelled your love. It was real, and so was mine."

"What did you think was gonna happen? She would look at you, see your real face and give you a kiss?"

"I could swap this life of shame. Swap it out for a dark gift. You just have to ask me for it."

"Vampyrism is, by definition, an afterlife."

"I'm not the one who was sleeping with one vampire while half in love with another. Your morality is a moving target. Mine is not."

"A man damaged by his demons and those demons are not dormant, they are hell-bent on killing me and everything I find beautiful. And you, you are beautiful."

"You are stronger now. Meaner. Sexier."

"They are like vampire royalty. The oldest among us."

"He is the original hybrid. Half vampire, half werewolf."

"We both know I could snap your neck and do my nails at the same time."

“Viktor. The oldest and strongest of us. That night, he made me a Vampire. "

"Stop fighting who you are."

"I'll tell you what I know about death, Camille. Death dances silently in everyone's shadow, and she doesn't give a damn."

"Turns out, I have complicated feelings for a monster."

ACTIONS AND SCENARIOS. Add a +reverse for the inverse action. Change names as you see fit.

[YOU ARE NOT HUMAN]: sender figured out receiver is a vampire and confronts them.

[FEEDING HOUR]: receiver finds sender feeding on someone's blood.

[WHEN IS A MONSTER NOT A MONSTER]: sender touches receiver's vampire face, showing they are not afraid.

[YOU NEED TO]: sender offers their blood to receiver.

[ECHOES OF THE PAST]: receiver is a doppelganger/looks like a person the sender knew in the past.

[DEATH AND THE MAIDEN]: receiver and sender can't be together as one is immortal and the other is a vampire.

[MY MAKER, MY LOVER]: sender is receiver's sire and they reunite after centuries after.

[BOND]: receiver is senders fledgling and sender can feel them.

[ELIXIR]: receiver is hurt and sender, a vampire, feeds them their blood.

[SHARING]: sender tempts receiver to share a meal of blood.

[HUNTING THE HUNTER]: sender is a vampire hunter, and they found receiver.

[THE INVITATION]: receiver receives an INVITATION to stay at sender's gothic/ancient manor.

[DRACULA'S BRIDE]: sender wants receiver to be one of their wives/lovers.

[BLOOD FAMILIAR]: sender is a vampire familiar, a human bloodbag under receiver protection. receiver finds out another vampire had bitten them.

[CRAVING]: sender tasted receiver once and craved them again.

[INVITED]: after bring invited inside, sender shows up at receiver's home.

[LICK]: sender licks receiver's blood remains from their mouth.

[LAST RESORT]: receiver has to turn sender into vampire because they are dying. sender wakes up in transition.

[ANCHOR]: sender calms receiver down after receiver went on a bloodlust spree. sender reminds them their humanity.

[RIVAL COVENS]: sender and receiver are from rival vampire covens and they talk in neutral ground.

[HUMANITY]: sender is human and because of them, receiver is starting to feel humanity again.

[I'LL BE YOUR GUIDE]: receiver is guiding sender through the early stages of vampirism.

[RIVAL SPECIES]: sender is a werewolf/witch and receiver is a vampire. they fall in love/ally with each other.

[DHAMPIR]: sender is a half human, half vampire who just had their first taste of human blood. receiver finds them.

[REFLECTION]: sender looks in the mirror and finds out that receiver has no reflection.

#rp meme #sentences memes #meme call #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #roleplay meme #you can send suggestions

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michwritesstuff · 4 months

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She’s Gonna Save Me (Bridgerton: Benedict Bridgerton)

this is my first ever bridgerton fic! i’ve had such a writer’s block and post grad has been so difficult but listening to music and reading other writers’ works has me feeling inspired! so enjoy my first story in months and first of the new year :)

pairing: female reader (she/her) x Benedict Bridgerton reader x Colin Bridgerton (platonic!)

summary: Benedict contemplates a life pursuing art and living outside the expectations of his family and society. Does he find a wife and settle down or live freely? What happens when he meets someone who can offer him the best of both worlds?

notes/warnings: mention of nudity, alcohol consumption, activities that can be witnessed at Sir Granville’s scandalous studio saoirees…

word count: 2.4k

As the second eldest Bridgerton boy, Benedict never found himself extremely pressured by the standards and expectations of society. Those responsibilities were entrusted upon his brother, Anthony, the Viscount.

Benedict reserved himself to a more romantic life, preoccupied by his love and interest for art.

Attending every event of the season was merely a ploy to keep his mother happy and distracted from the fact that he had no true intention of courting any ladies.

He would drink, laugh, and dance the season away without ever calling on anyone.

Benedict believed that this season wouldn’t be any different.

******

When you first agreed to join your family friends across the Atlantic in London, you didn’t expect that you would be taking part in the ton’s social season.

As the youngest daughter, your brothers married with children and sisters off tending to their new husbands, your father didn’t feel the need to arrange a marriage for social or monetary gain.

Your family was well off in the states, your parents often described as ‘free spirits.’ They had always impressed upon you the importance of appreciating the beauty around you and romanticizing life.

With your mother’s passing, you decided to stay at home with your father, choosing to enjoy a quiet life in the country studying English literature.

Staying with Sir Henry Granville was beyond exciting and allowed you to interact and mingle with the more eclectic members of British society.

You had lasted all but a week before you were called upon by a Miss Lady Danbury.

She had stressed the importance of participating in the social season and the impending judgment of the ton and Queen if you did not participate.

While you never cared much for the opinion of others, you didn’t fancy the idea of being ogled every time you ventured into town.

******

“I heard she was rejected by every suitor.”

“She’s so ugly and unpleasant, a dowry wouldn’t even be worth it.”

“Apparently she’s slightly deformed.”

You couldn’t begin to believe the rumors circulating about you, the American.

You swore that the descriptions were ripped out of a storybook, describing some gremlin crawling from the depths of the earth.

Men and women alike had no problem spreading stories about the young lady joining them for the season.

Worst of all, none of them had even seen you yet. The modiste had made personal house calls, as requested by Lady Danbury.

Now you stood, in front of the carriage, at the first ball of the season, your debut.

You followed behind Sir Henry and Mary Granville, head held high and eyes straight forward as you waded through the ballroom towards Lady Danbury and the Queen.

You heard the whispers and felt the stares as you stood before the queen.

With one leg behind the other and your arms laid at your side, you gently bent your knee and curtsied before her.

She gave you a once over before bowing her head back, a silent approval.

Moving out of the way, you stood at the edge of the dance floor as Lady Danbury approached.

“Miss y/l/n, I do hope you don’t mind that I have taken the liberty of securing you a few gentlemen to fill out your dance card.”

“I expect nothing less from you, Lady Danbury” you smiled back, a teasing tone in your voice.

Your sarcasm and apprehension towards the season had not gone unnoticed by Lady Danbury.

She quite admired your wit and sharp mind, and more than anything, enjoyed the challenge.

******

You were now on your 4th dance of the night; your feet were hurting, and you wanted nothing more than to be curled up with a book.

Fortunately, your current dance partner was not completely awful and was actually quite charming.

Colin Bridgerton.

You had met him once before, in passing, when Lady Danbury had brought you to meet his mother, Violet, and sister, Daphne.

Apparently, Daphne had been named the Diamond of the season in her first season out on society and married a Duke.

His younger sister, Eloise, was preparing for her first season as well.

However, through your brief encounter with Eloise she did not seem as happy with the matter as her sister and mother were.

You had a feeling she would be a good person to befriend.

“Tell me about yourself Miss y/l/n” Colin inquired.

“Y/N,” you quickly corrected.

“Just Y/N is fine,” you smiled slightly.

“Well Y/N, how are you finding London and the beginning of the season?”

“London, well its quite beautiful. There is so much art, and history, and the architecture is amazing. Truly, I wouldn’t mind getting lost here. And well…this—” you paused, glancing around the ball at all the young women around you.

“May I be frank?” you asked, Colin’s eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Of course, Miss Y/N”

“I slightly detest all of this, my feet hurt, and I’ve been dancing for quite too long. Why would I want to marry someone I’ve met one time?”

Colin was slightly taken aback before grinning wildly.

“You remind me of my sister Eloise,” he stated.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I quite liked her,” you grinned back.

As the dance ended you curtsied before Colin as he bowed before you.

“I hope you find the person you’re looking for Y/N, but I have a feeling you don’t need all of this to do so.”

You smiled widely and slightly nodded before following him off the dance floor.

“I’ll grab us a drink,” he said before walking away. Your eyes followed his back for a few seconds before scanning the room.

They quickly landed on two men whispering in the corner.

The slightly shorter one had massive sideburns and a quizzical look that seemed as if it must be permanently etched onto his face. The other man had a certain air about him.

Even from across the room his light-colored eyes had a shine in them.

Colin returned; you thanked him before looking to the corner again. This time the slightly taller one had caught your gaze and lifted his eyes to meet yours. You felt your face flush and quickly turned your head.

“Colin?”

“Yes?”

“Who are those two men in the corner?”

Colin looked up to see his brothers in the corner looking at him inquisitively.

“Oh, those two? You don’t want to be near the likes of them. Poorly mannered and when they were younger, they would wet the bed for years well beyond what was normal.”

You were following along for a while until that last part.

You gave Colin a quick look to see if he was being serious.

His mouth remained flat and tight-lipped for a few mere seconds before letting through a boisterous laugh.

“My apologies Y/N, those are my brothers.”

Your eyes widened at the confession.

“Your brothers?”

“Yes, lets introduce you,” he stated, beginning to pull you across the ballroom.

“Colin, No I—"

“Brothers, this is Miss y/l/n, Anthony, Benedict,” he pointed out.

You curtsied before both of them before speaking up.

“I told you, just Y/N is fine Colin.”

You weren’t sure what his brothers would say about your slight improperness. It was clear that the Bridgerton’s were a well-respected family in the ton.

You glanced at the eldest brother who you learned was named Anthony who gave you a curt nod before excusing himself to sneak off from an inquiring Lady Danbury.

You smiled at him before turning your gaze to the second eldest Bridgerton.

“Y/N here was telling me about her studies in the states. She is well-read and well-traveled.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing Colin slightly.

“You flatter me, Colin. Unfortunately, I am not perfect. For example, I am about done with all of this and was just about to call a carriage.”

“Oh, but you must stay for one more dance Y/N. Poor Benedict here has not waltzed once.”

Benedict tried to sneakily hit his brother for his clear meddling.

“While that may be true, I do not need my younger brother imposing on such a lovely lady.” Benedict states.

“Nonsense, everyone must waltz at least once,” you laughed, pulling Benedict towards the center of the room.

His eyes widened at your forwardness as he shot Colin a disapproving brotherly look, to which Colin gave him a grin and thumbs up.

As the music began you moved around the room with Benedict.

“So, Mr. Bridgerton, tell me what exactly it is you do.”

“Just Benedict is fine,” he stated, mirroring your words from earlier.

“Besides, aren’t I the one who should be questioning you about your skills?”

“That’s awfully backwards thinking, I hope you don’t get stuck that way” you replied sarcastically before being spun around.

When you returned facing Benedict, a knowing grin was stuck on his face. You were witty. He liked witty.

“I suppose that is fair. I’m an artist, well…I’m trying to be an artist. It’s a little complicated.”

You nodded understandingly, while the arts were enjoyed by many, it wasn’t exactly a noble pursuit, especially for you as a woman.

“You should come by Sir Granville’s studio, it’s quite…”

You couldn’t think of a proper word to describe the soirees Granville hosted. It was taboo and scandalous to most respectable members of society. However, if Benedict was an artist as he was claiming, he should fit right in.

“…inspiring,” you finished.

Benedict gave you an interesting look.

Little did you know, he had been to Granville’s studio, several times.

He hadn’t been in a while since his family had just returned from Aubrey Hall and the preparation for Eloise’s season had been quite hectic for his mother.

But you, picturing you at Granville’s studio was not something Benedict had imagined.

Women who were married or of low social standing was something else, but you, a young lady in her first official season stalking down the halls in such a disreputable manner. It didn’t fit the picture of the beautiful woman before him.

Benedict was quickly learning not to try and categorize you into one box.

“What do you know of Granville’s studio?” he asked seriously.

“Well, for one, I’m staying there. Two, I feel more comfortable among that community than here, if you understand what I mean…” you trail off.

Benedict gives you a small smile of understanding.

As the song ends Benedict lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently before sightly lowering it back down, fingers brushing softly as he pulls away.

“Until next time Y/N”

“I look forward to it Benedict.”

******

Two months had passed since Lady Danbury’s first ball of the season. In that time you had befriended Eloise and Colin Bridgerton, often sitting in the parlor room of their home during the daytime, chatting the day away.

As such, you had also grown closer to Penelope Featherington who also came over often. You always considered yourself to be quite perceptive, so it was evidently clear that Penelope was fond of Colin. You thought about mentioning something, but it didn’t seem like your place.

Throughout your time at the Bridgerton’s household you had seen Benedict a handful of times. Unfortunately, your encounters were reduced to small greetings, stolen glances and light brushes as you walked past each other.

Until today.

You were sitting in the empty parlor room as Eloise ran to her room to fetch some ‘evidence’ and ‘clues’ about Lady Whistledown.

“Good Afternoon Y/N” Benedict greeted as he walked in, taking a quick look around the room to find the two of you alone.

“Afternoon Mr. Bridgerton,” you greeted back, a slight teasing tone to contrast your seemingly formality.

He gave you a knowing look before continuing.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but I plan on attending Sir Granville’s tonight, I was wondering if I would see you there?”

You gave him a teasing smile before your face fell into a serious and hurt look.

“Mr. Bridgerton, I’m appalled, would a respectable young woman such as myself be caught there? Imagine the horror if the rest of the ton were to find out.”

He let out a loud laugh at your remark, in the short time that he had known you, you never failed to make him laugh.

“Yes Benedict, I’ll see you there,” you smiled.

“Good,” he replied.

******

That night you had a few drinks to help you take the edge off before guests started coming over. There was something about interacting with Benedict that made you nervous.

You were walking around the art studio observing the nude model and the artists renditions when you felt someone lay their hand on your shoulder.

“OH! Oh my, Benedict, you scared me.”

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean to startle you.”

You continued walking around the circle, admiring the art around you.

“She’s stunning, is she not?” you questioned.

“She is,” he answered quickly.

However, when you turned to look at him his eyes were already trained on yours.

You smiled widely, walking out of the studio as Benedict followed like a lost puppy.

“Will I ever get to see your art?” you asked him.

He smiled sheepishly as his arm reached back to scratch the back of his neck.

“I certainly would let you, if there was any.”

“Practicing here for a few months and you still have nothing to show?” you teased.

Benedict gave you a look.

“I may have asked around about you,” you confessed.

“And?” he asks.

From what you have heard, both from his siblings and other people around you. Benedict was a kind and creative soul, with a great appreciation for the beauty around him.

“Your family and friends speak highly of you, that’s important.”

“What about you? What do you speak of me?”

“Besides being a tortured artist? I think highly of you.”

He nodded his head again, before responding.

“I think highly of you as well,” he whispered quietly, leaning down slightly so he was more at eye level.

You blamed the alcohol in your system for what you did next.

Yanking him down by his collar, you pulled him close and reached up until your lips were flush against his, pushing with all your might as if you would never kiss him again.

“Y/N—” he pulled away, his senses flooding back.

“This is…no, I’ve dishonored you I—”

“Oh hush Benedict, I do not care about those rules. I want you.”

He looked down at you, holding your face in his hands as he searched your eyes for confirmation.

Biting your lip and grinning up at him, Benedict couldn’t help but pull you back in, one hand sinking to your waist to pull you closer, the other rested on your cheek.

“You know this means we have to get married now?” Benedict teases.

“That means you presume I would say yes,” you teased back.

His smile grew impossibly bigger as he pulled you back in for a tender kiss.

“Let’s just see how you perform tonight before we think about marriage” you joked.

Benedict pulled back with a smirk and look in his eye you haven’t seen yet as he looked you over.

“Art is all about practicing and perfecting, we might need to practice a few times before you make your final judgement” he teased back.

You threw your head back in surprise, a large laugh leaving your lips before you smiled sweetly at him.

This was not how you imagined the social season going.

check out the rest of my work ⤑ here!

#teentvimagines #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton masterlist #bridgerton imagines #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #Spotify

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teyamsatan · 11 months

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Hii idk if you take requests rn but if you do can you please write something where you are showing Neteyam music videos from earth on a tv in the lab and when your celebrity crush appeared you said « he so hot » forgetting that Neteyam was there and he fuck us bc he is jealous (like he didn’t know what your type in human were so he is possessive) 😩😩😩

IS IT TIME FOR JEALOUS NETEYAM PART 2? I THINK IT IS BESTIES!

this got away from me, the horny is taking me over once more (she says on a daily basis) also it's 12am and i'm too tired to proofread so if you see any mistakes, pretend to be shocked when they disappear tomorrow morning and don't judge me too harshly okkk?? xxx

i hope you enjoy besties x smooches

wc: 2k words

warnings: aged-up!neteyam, female human!reader, jealousy trope, smut (fingering, edging), strong language, cursing, kinda mean!neteyam, praise kink, small degradation kink, i guess that's all light day for me

na'vi compendium: tewng - loincloth, tiyawn - love

As a human living on Pandora, your life was never boring. Anything that the Na’vi would ever find mundane or ordinary, anything that humans on Earth might think is just another thing in a vast array of distractions always present in their day to day lives, to you, it was all new. Everything was just another opportunity to learn and grow, to experience life in a way that you weren’t quite made for, but that was full of lessons, surprises, full of excitement and adventure, full of… entertainment.

That's all it was. A... lesson. It was important for you to understand where you came from, or more accurately, where your parents came from, and that included looking at videos of what they considered art. And boy, was it art, alright!

A video that you've now memorised by heart was playing in one of the recreation rooms, because seeing it on a small screen just wasn't quite enough. The beautiful music video featured incredible vistas of Earth like you've never quite seen it before, a choreography that highlighted just how fluid and dynamic humans could actually be when trying, a symphony of voices blending together beautifully, lyrics that melted your heart, and the most beautiful human men you have ever laid your eyes on, and you were almost upset that that what was what was missing from Pandora, and instead was all you got was old scientists who even at the best of times were not quite the same... sight.

It pained Neteyam to admit that when you asked him to come and hang around the labs, something he didn't like doing in the best of circumstances (but always did because of you), he definitely didn't expect this. He didn't quite understand the feelings plaguing him, feelings that never tried him before, as he watched your face, completely entranced and mesmerised, looking at the big screen where human men were singing and dancing in a way he found silly, but to his massive shock - you didn't. You and Neteyam shared an opinion on most things, have done since you were but children, growing up together in this world that scared you both, but that you braved together. So why was it now that this was changed this little fact that he was so fond of, that he held on for dear life, that he cherished with everything he had?

Is this what he was feeling? Sadness? No... it didn't quite feel like sadness. The twitching in his eye and the way his hands balled up in a tight fist is not what he associated with feeling down. Anger? Neteyam didn't get angry too often, but the times he did, it felt hot, like burning embers pushed down his throat. So not quite anger, either. It felt... bitter, like a poisoned fruit. His stomach tightened at the way you were almost drooling over these men that you didn't know, that were just like you, and nothing like Neteyam. Is this what you wanted? Is that who you craved? A human, someone whose hands fit in yours perfectly and whose body was made to hold your own without towering over you?

Neteyam felt the ugly feeling surge through his veins until it was like iced-water replaced all his blood, and he suddenly recognised the feeling from a distant memory of the past, one he shared with his dad.

"Jealousy, son, is like... a wave, that comes and goes, and can ripple over your feet or can drown you in sorrow, and anger and pain. It's watching someone get something you want, it's feeling a precious thing slip through your fingers, no matter how hard you try to hold on to it. It's cold and powerful, it's the ugliest of emotions, and it's inevitable. Just don't let it consume you."

"Hey! I was watching that!" You screamed in Neteyam's direction in an attempt to understand what just happened, why he took the remote away from you and turned off the projector, leaving you a confused and dazed mess. Your already struggling mind got even more scrambled, as your friend placed a large hand on your chest, pushing you to the ground and getting on top of you, hovering until your faces were so close, they were almost touching, until his breath was warm and musky and deepening the quiet, steady haze overtaking you. Your eyes widened taking him in, flared nose and deep frown marring his beautiful face, but nothing held a candle to his own eyes, yellow orbs of molten gold, so precious and unique to you, so, so beautiful and right now, almost swallowed by his black irises that were more dilated that you've ever seen them before.

"Neteyam... what are you doing?"

"Why am I here, huh? Why did you ask me to come, so I can watch you drool over human men? So I can see how much you want them?"

"What are you talk-"

His words confounded you, almost as much as his tone did. He sounded... jealous. He couldn't be. Right? You and Neteyam were just friends... just friends. Sure, you've shared a few drunken kissess and flirty comments throughout your life, and you've found yourself catching him looking at you in a way that indicated something... more, but he was Neteyam. Neteyam, the prince of the Omaticaya. Neteyam, the future Olo'eyktan. Neteyam, the most intelligent, caring, kind, compassionate, beautiful, sexy man you've ever seen... and a Na'vi. He had a line of women at his beck and call, so in time, you've come to terms with the fact he would never look at you, merely a measly human, and why should he? There was so much separating you, so much you'd never be able to overcome. And yet still, here he was, eyeing you like he hungered for you, like he ached for you, and your core throbbed at the view, a soft moan barely contained as you felt his twitching cock brush against your thigh.

"Is this what you want, what you crave, friend? All this fucking time, I thought there was a chance you might want me, the way I want you, the way I need you. And turns out I never stood a fucking chance, huh?"

"Neteyam, no, I -"

"What, what do you have to say for yourself?"

His hand was tracing your body softly, inching from your neck and collarbone, down your chest and waist, ghosting over your hips, until he found your shorts, clinging to your body in a way that drove him crazy, that let little to the imagination, that made him wants to explore every inch of you with his fingers, and his tongue.

"Is this for them?" when his hand slipped in between your thighs, feeling the wet patch that formed there in the short time he was on top of you, you pushed them instinctively together, trapping his fingers as they started to move, the moan unable to remain trapped inside of you anymore. The shake of your head was so aggressive it gave you whiplash, but you wanted him to know, needed him to know that it was him, only him, always him.

"No, Netey-, fuck! No, it's for you!"

The growl that escaped him made your heart still in your chest, the raw, powerful emotion something you have never seen in Neteyam, who was always a calming, tame presence in your life. It took him no time at all to remove the shorts that he's dreamt of seeing around your ankles for so long, a reality that he would cherish later, once his mind was no longer poisoned by the bitter hold of jealousy.

"You're lying. I saw the way you're watching them, I saw the look in your eyes. You just want a little human man your own size, huh?"

He takes a second, just a second to admire your body, that he's seen in all his filthiest, most beautiful dreams as it welcomed him, spread for him, bent for him, arched for him, but nothing, not even the absolute best of them, compared to the sight that would be forever tattooed in his brain from this point on. Your disheveled face, parted lips and blushing cheeks, messy hair as you were sprawled on the floor, looking at him with blown up pupils through your long lashes, your chest heaving up and down, nipples poking through your tank top... it all drove him fucking crazy. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you, long and hard, and show you that you deserved better than a human, that he can make you come in ways you haven't even imagined before.

"I'm not lying, Neteyam. I never thought you'd ever want me, so I moved on. But I need you, I want you, please. Only you. Only you, please."

His cock twitched and hardened even more at your words, more than he ever thought was fucking possible, and it hurt, the strain caused by his tightened tewng, the desire to fill you up more overwhelming by the second.

"Is that so, baby girl? You want me to fuck you?" his hand pushes your lace panties to the side, smirking at how drenched they were, and his breath hitches in his throat at the way your swollen folds glistened with slick, at the way your smell inundated his senses and pushed him to a primal state, in which nothing else in this world existed but you, and the desire to fill you up with him cum and watch as it dripped out of your small, perfect cunt.

"Yes! Yes, please!"

"Have you been good enough to deserve to be fucked, pretty girl? Is this what you think good girls do? Acting like a little slut, salivating over men that could never satisfy you?"

You whimper as his pushes two fingers in you, curling them so they drag against the spongy part in your core in a way that makes you squirm under him. The stretch is just enough to feel pressure building in you, not enough to reach the height in needed to be released, and you start grinding, fucking yourself on his fingers, hoping to get yourself there, hoping to reach the orgasm you needed more desperately with every passing second. Your actions anger him, as he pulls his fingers out swiftly and straddles you once more, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes that felt like no light could escape from.

"Answer me."

"I-I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"That's right, baby girl. And why is that?"

"Because I'm yours. I'm all yours."

"Fuck, that's right, baby. You're mine. All fucking mine."

"Open your mouth for me." You do as you're told, and watch as he brings his fingers to your lips and pushes past them, until your mouth is coated in your slick, and you close your lips around them, swirling your tongue on and in between them, until you gather every last drop. He groans a wild, erotic groan, feeling the way your clean yourself off of him dutifully, and he lets his mind fantasise about the day you'll be chocking on his cock, your beautiful eyes drowned in tears as the girth becomes too much to handle, drops falling down your face as you try to take more of him, your tongue flat against him as he thrusts in and out of your mouth, as he comes down your throat. He slowly removes his fingers, even as you cling on, and they come out with a pop, and you smile at the sound, teeth finding your bottom lip as they sink into it, trying to suppress the smirk threatening to form on your lips.

"Such a filthy girl. Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Gonna show you why I'm the only one for you."

"You took my fingers so well, tiyawn. Now let's see how well you take my cock."

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @yagirlheree

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getosprettyboy · 15 days

Text

Let Me Into Your Heart

Pairing : Remus Lupin x reader

Tags : nothing but fluff, drunk guy tries to get handsy.

Summary : Remus has been ignoring you for a while and you are going to find out why.

A/N : Sorry I deleted this, it didn't feel cute enough.

Dividers by cafekitsune.

It’s been 3 weeks and Remus has been ignoring you with all his might. It is extremely frustrating for you to deal with him like this.

First, it started with him not replying to you back a greeting you sent towards him. Then he would sit far away from you in the great hall and now whenever he sees you he runs towards the other direction. When you try to confront him he comes up with an excuse of how he is late for a class or something.

So you started sending him letters, and he replied to none of them. It was infuriating.

You almost gave up on him but then you remembered the memorable and fun times with him and how much you loved those moments together.

Like that one time in the common room…

❦

It was just the two of you in the common room with a vinyl record player playing some David Bowie songs to which you would occasionally bob your head while tracing the scars on his arms.

Suddenly you looked at Remus. The way his face would shine from the fire and how beautiful his scars looked on him. He isn’t fond of his scars and hates them but you think his scars form a beautiful pattern like constellations.

Remus saw you looking at him and spoke, careful not to break the peaceful atmosphere.

“What?”

“You have a pretty face Lupin.”

Remus flushed at your compliment and tried hiding his blush by deflecting the compliment.

“There is nothing really special about it.”

“There is. You have scars which I could trace to form constellations on and eyes as deep as the ocean and I fear if I look too deep into your eyes I might drown in them and might never be able to come back for air and that will be fine because I would rather die in those pools of water then never see your face again.

Remus just looked at you lovingly and asked, “Why do you like my scars so much?”

“Because they are a part of you and I love each and every single part of you Remus, even the ones you would call ugly. I will love them forever and always.”

“You’re acting like you’re in love with me,” Remus said half-jokingly.

“Maybe I am.”

Remus choked on the air with wide eyes.

“I’m joking silly,” You said as you lightly shoved him.

Remus nervously chuckled. It’s not like he is in love with you.

“Are you in love with me?” You asked with mischief glinting in your eyes.

“Who would fall in love with you?” Remus retorted.

“Oh my gosh, Remus, Shut up!” You said as you punched him in the arm.

“Ow.”

“It was well deserved.”

“Indeed.”

You both laughed at each other's antics when suddenly you stood up.

“Oh my gosh! Remus, Starman!!!”

Remus listened to the music carefully and you were right Starman by David Bowie was playing on the vinyl player.

You increased the volume and started singing the lyrics.

There’s a Starman

waiting in the sky

He’d like to come and meet us but he thinks he’d blow our minds

There’s a Starman

waiting in the sky

He’s told us not to blow it cus he knows it’s all worthwhile he told me

Let the children lose it

Let the children use it

Let all the children boogie

You stretched out your hand towards him and asked, “Remus John Lupin, may I please have this dance with you?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on now,” You whined.

“I don’t dance.”

“Oh yes, you do!”

You pulled him up and held both of his hands and swayed to the music.

Don't tell your poppa or he’ll get us locked up in fright

There’s a Starman

waiting in the sky

He’d like to come and meet us but he thinks he’d blow our minds

There’s a Starman

waiting in the sky

He’s told us not to blow it cus he knows it’s all worthwhile he told me

You both screamed the song at the top of your lungs. You both had never felt more alive.

❦

That was your favourite memory with him, unfortunately, that was the last conversation you had with him because, from the next day forwards, he ignored you and didn’t even give you a reason for it.

You have been trying to talk to him but he wouldn’t listen to you.

A few days later your birthday arrived and you were a pretty popular person because of your good looks and good grades. You were also very nice so people liked you and knew you. So it was no surprise when more than the people you invited came to your birthday party. Even Remus came. You did give him an invite through James but you didn’t think he would actually show up.

You were greeting your multitude of guests when you saw Remus approaching you.

“Happy birthday Y/N,” Remus said handing you your gift.

“Thank you, Remus, how are you?” You asked.

“I’m good, you?”

“I’m great."

"Are you sure because you haven’t been talking to-”

“I think I heard Sirius calling me, I gotta go bye.” He quickly said running away from you.

You saw him rushing into the crowd of people to get away from you and it hurt to know that he didn’t want to be in our company.

“Enjoy the party.” You murmured with a frown.

❦

Remus pushed towards the crowd of people and saw Sirius flirting with a girl with long brown hair but suddenly a girl came out of nowhere and started shouting at them. The angry asked Sirius something to which Sirius with wide eyes shook his head and she took the other girl’s arm and dragged her off somewhere.

Remus then approached Sirius.

“What was that all about?” Remus asked.

“The angry girl was the girl’s girlfriend,” Sirius replied.

“You really are a homewrecker.”

“I didn’t know!!! What about you?!”

“What about me?”

“Did you tell Y/N how you feel about her?”

“What are you talking about.”

“Moony, I see how you look at her, in fact, we all do.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Oh my- Just take this.” He hands Remus a shot of fire whiskey. “And don’t come back until you confess to her.”

Remus looked at him dully.

“Come on, Moony you can do it.”

“Fine.” Remus drank the shot and walked to where he last saw you.

He wasn’t actually going to confess to you, he was going back to his room and was going to read a nice book and go to sleep. If he wanted to confess to you he would’ve probably done it at the beginning of the semester but the fear of rejection took over. That’s why he has been ignoring you. He thinks if he stays away from you for a while he will lose feeling for you, which is unfortunately not working.

As he was heading to the boy's dormitory he saw a guy leaning on you a little too close while you were looking uncomfortable. His hand was slowly snaking around your waist as he got closer. You put a hand between your faces and said no but the guy wouldn't budge and kept getting close to you.

Remus saw red. He walked long paces towards you both and as you saw him relief washed over you.

“Hey, hands off her,” Remus said as he pushed the guy extra hard just so he could come to his senses. He looked very drunk and could barely stand up.

“Move. I and the pretty lady were having a conversation over here.” He slurred his words together.

“I don’t think so. So I’ll ask you politely, kindly fuck off."

Remus took your arm and led you to a more secluded place with the music echoing through the walls.

You sat down on the floor with your hands hugging your knees with later Remus following you and sitting beside you.

“Are you ok?” Remus asked.

“Why do you suddenly care?” You asked back.

“I've always cared for you Y/N,” Remus replied.

“Then why have you been ignoring me?” You retorted.

“I have my reasons.”

“What are they?’

“I can't tell you that.”

“Remus please tell me I want to know if you still even want to be my friend!”

“I do want to be your friend, I really do.”

“Then what is it? you won't talk to me, you won't reply to my letters what is it just tell me!”

“I-”

“Just spit it out!!”

“Because I like you. I really really like you.”

Silence.

He shouldn’t have said it. Remus really shouldn’t have said it. It was all Sirius’ fault for giving him the liquid courage and making him confess to you. Oh how he hated himself right now, now all he did was wait for you to laugh and make fun of him.

“Are you kidding me?! Are you stupid or something? why didn't you tell me?”

“So I wouldn't get rejected,” Remus replied quietly.

“Are you dense or something you fucking idiot?!”

“If you do not like me just tell me why you have to yell?” Remus replied a bit annoyed by your tone.

“I like you too you daft giraffe.”

“That's new, wait what?” Remus looked at you surprised.

“I've been giving you hints since the start of the semester. I've been flirting with you, I’ve been gifting you stuff, I've been sitting next to you at every chance I got I even shared my goddamn food with you!”

“I thought you were being friendly.”

“You bloody twat.” You shouted at him as you hit him on his arm.

“Ow.”

“It was well deserved.”

"Indeed."

“So.. you wanna kiss,” Remus asked with a warm smile on his face.

“Is that really a question?"

You grabbed his collar and pulled him in for the kiss. It was a sweet and sensual kiss with no hurry in it. You both savoured the kiss like it was your last. As soon as you both pulled away from the kiss, you laughed at him.

“What?” He asked smiling at you.

“You’re really dumb you know that.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“Oh, shut up.”

#remus john lupin #remus x you #remus lupin #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #marauders

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inchidentally · 4 months

Text

@vastappenen LISTEN okay so this is the full spin-off of the Charlos part of my Prince Lando AU post

I cannot write real fic so this is just like me doing a retelling of what's gone on in my mind lol - and this is the post of Charles in White that's screencapped above

(side note my friend was listening to this haunting music while I wrote this so it might help set the scene - it's called "Fancy on a Bach Air" by Yo-Yo Ma)

this gets a bit NSFW toward the end so fair warning!

ok so to start, this is what was in my original post

Unfortunately the royal courts of Europe were shaken by a quick series of upsets: His Serene Highness Lorenzo of Monaco abdicated the throne in search of a quieter life - his heart had never been in it since his father, the former Sovereign Prince, had become ill and abdicated. This left Lorenzo’s unwed brother Charles to be hastily crowned Prince Regent at the tender age of 22 (too young to be crowned Sovereign Prince bc modern monarchy rules I’m inventing). As a result Charles suffered the loss of his long-time suitor, nobleman Sebastian Vettel, who couldn’t bear the thought of being Sovereign Prince let alone of a land that wasn’t even his own.

Enter the Sainz Vázquez de Castro elders seizing the opportunity and negotiating a deal with Monaco in private conclave with the Papal State (??) to wed their son Carlos to the Prince Regent. Carlos is ashamed at giving in to the temptation… to not just be Prince Consort but to be Sovereign Prince, to rule over the vast wealth of Monaco and by extension the Holy See, to have the coveted beauty Charles in his bed. So he agrees to be spirited away to Monaco and the ugly business of dissolving his betrothal to Lando is left to members of church and state.

But Carlos experiences a complete conversion when Charles is on his knees in the cathedral - looking up at him with docile green eyes as Carlos’ fingertips touch the warm red roses of Charles’ lips as he holds the chalice of holy wine for Charles to drink. Carlos was almost hard beneath the ermine and velvet robes in a house of God when the crown was on his head and Charles next to him - and slightly below - smiling up at him with filaments of gold hanging from pendants on his chaplet, framing his achingly beautiful face. If Carlos feels his immense happiness and prosperity darken whenever he sees Lando’s picture or encounters him at one of the courts then no one need know.

ok so I've removed this from the narrative to of course be charlos true happiness endgame and removed Seb entirely, or he can just be called a close confidante and possible candidate to marry Charles but not very serious.

I imagine young Carlos Jr. moving through the royal courts as a child and teen and seeing the royal children of Monaco sometimes. in my weird version of royalty I have it that Lorenzo is the natural successor to the throne and therefore has always been allowed to dress and be seen "normally". as a second child, Charles was always the rightful property of whichever alliance would maintain Monaco's independence. he was raised mostly in the Prince's Palace and when playing or venturing to where he could be seen he's attended by a retinue of guards each carrying a gonfalon to conceal the young prince from view. on the rare occasions that the prince will be around those not within his immediate family or private staff, he is carefully wrapped in embroidered, jeweled white silks or cottons (depending on the climate) with only his eyes visible. the only color allowed being a scarlet silk girdle around his hips. until he reaches maturity or is married he wears a ferronnière with a single white diamond at his forehead. (I imagine the wrapping as looking like fancy white fireproofs that cover the hands as well and a long, flowy tunic over the top with smart little white renaissance boots (that Charles hates).

Prince Charles is also not permitted to speak outside of his family circle/staff but he is taught multiple languages and fond rumors spread that the prince has a charming lilting accent that comes from a little of everywhere. he is also taught the piano and there is a place on the shore that only locals know of where fairy echoes of his playing can be heard. they call it his 'lone voice' because the mood inside the palace can be judged by the prince's choice of music. childish and jolly for a while, then more challenging pieces, until his eighteenth birthday and an unknown dirge for his godfather who had perished during a racing tourney that summer. the prince's music would change over the years but it would never be joyful again.

I imagine many instances over the years of Carlos Jr. being coaxed by a conniving Carlos Sr. into bowing low to the small, mummified-looking creature that everyone assures him is a prince. the eyes and vague suggestion of white-clad hands and feet are the only indications that this is true, but the big green eyes are very expressive and seem to smile whenever they meet Carlos' own big brown eyes. Prince Lorenzo has a kind smile and would be a good playmate but solemnly maintains his position by his parents' side. Prince Arthur comes along in a bundle of energy and mischief - being blessed with a birthright to total freedom so long as his elder siblings are alive. he enjoys being swung around and thrown in the air by Carlos Jr. which helps pass the tedium of royal engagements. Arthur is clearly the favorite of Charles who rather mothers him - especially when the Sovereign Prince falls ill and hushed preparations are made behind palace walls for Lorenzo to take the throne. Charles is so deep in mourning for his godfather and soon his own father that his presentation at court is delayed indefinitely as it would be cruel to open him up to marriage bids that would inevitably take him from his home.

in the meantime, Carlos Jr. has grown into his large features and promises to inherit all his father's looks and daring. at his father's encouragement - "by the time you wed a virgin, you will need to know everything there is to know about pleasing them" - Carlos enjoys countless conquests across every continent on the globe. he's a seasoned bachelor by the age of 20 and has been given his own estate outside of Madrid to party, race expensive cars and drink expensive wine. but even as he wakes between the thighs of this or that beautiful boy or girl, his mind recalls the hours spent at court in Monaco trying to discern the subtlest lines of Prince Charles' body beneath the absurd layers of drapery. he knows for sure that the prince is slim but not scrawny. that his posture is upright and proud and stands about the same height as Carlos. at times when he scoops Arthur up to hold on one hip, Carlos can discern the fine dip of a small waist - probably small enough for Carlos' big hands to meet around. what a gift-wrapped present for whoever got to marry him!

but by the time they next meet, news has traveled all over of the Sovereign Prince's health and plans for the reluctant Prince Lorenzo to be hastily crowned. during their first visit after this news, Carlos Jr. makes his usual low bow to Prince Charles but when he looks up he sees tears clouding the prince's green eyes. it twists Carlos' heart and he boldly takes the prince's hand and presses a hurried kiss to the silk and at the same time trying to speak with his eyes how sorry he is for the prince. the small noise Charles makes at Carlos' boldness is a precious secret Carlos holds like a tangible thing against the breast of his tailcoat as he hurries down the steps before any of the other royals can notice what he's done.

[this is when the above section from my AU comes in and Carlos is attempted to be married off to Prince Lando, Lorenzo abdicates, Charles can only be named Prince Regent bc of his status etc and a hasty arrangement is made for him to marry Carlos]

at their wedding I imagine Charles' veil/headdress to be much lighter and tied in a simple knot at the base of his head. the only time Charles is called to speak is to swear fealty to the crown, to his country, and to his husband (it's also the first time Charles' voice has been heard by almost everyone in the Cathedral including Carlos. it sounds like joyous music, dipping deep and rich one moment and high and sweet the next - with a little bubble of laughter at the end. Carlos wants to hear him talk forever.) when the priest finishes his blessing, Carlos put a hand beneath Charles' chin and guides him to stand. he moves closer to Charles than he has ever been permitted and circles his arms around his neck to untie the knot. the veil falls away and a collective gasp rises up from the cathedral through the clouds of incense. Carlos doesn't gasp so much as suck in a triumphant breath through his nostrils and lifts his chin in triumph. Charles is not just the chaste ideal of beauty that the court and citizens of Monaco had whispered about for years, he is the vision of temptation itself: a delicate brush-spatter of freckles beneath a flush on finely molded cheekbones, a straight French nose that was the final word on French noses, and perfectly smooth lips in the shape of a patriotic 'M' and the exact red of Monaco's flag. the prince's hair and brows have all the shades of a glossy hazelnut and a thick fan of lashes surrounded the green eyes - all that Carlos had known of him until now. but soon, he would know everything about Charles and in a way no one else ever had or would.

Carlos is supposed to buss a small, ceremonial barely-there kiss to Charles' lips to please the court but of course he can't help himself and, holding Charles' face in his big hands, presses a fiercely possessive (thankfully still close-mouthed) kiss that nearly makes Charles collapse. murmurs go around the cathedral of "well, those Spaniards, you know".

when they are crowned, my version of royalty has the priest setting the heavy gold crown on Carlos' head but Carlos in turn places the chaplet of gold leaves and gemstone pendants on Charles. Carlos is flying as high as mortal can when he can finally lead Charles out to the balcony and show him off to the waiting public. Carlos wonders if there's a man on earth who possesses more wealth than he does at that moment.

but there's one more thing he doesn't yet have! oh you bet the bedding ceremony is weird and fucked up and poor Charles is using the short time they have alone as they move through the halls (merely flanked by guards) to nervously and apologetically explain to Carlos what they will need to do. something about protocol for regents who found it difficult to "perform" under such circumstances etc. Carlos just puts a big warm hand to Charles' lips as they are rushed along, leaning into to whisper that he'd take Charles' virginity in front of his own grandmother if that's what was required and his desire still wouldn't be dampened.

the chamber is small and has one purpose. the clergy stand behind wrought iron mullioned screens but Charles can see their eyes clearly and has known many of them all his life. he'd probably faint dead away from nerves if Carlos didn't pull him close and kiss him so deep and dirty it should've turned Charles' white gown red with lust. Carlos tells him to look only into his eyes, that he'll take good care of him. there's a whole intense sexy element to Carlos unwrapping Charles the rest of the way, just like the birthday present he'd imagined when he was a teenager. he probably spends WAY too much time on foreplay considering the witnesses are only there to see one thing and then leave but Carlos knows that Charles deserves this. by the time they've reached the point where Carlos can reach a hand between them and literally 'come' up with the goods to hold up and be viewed, Charles' moans are reaching up to the rafters. there's a rustle and murmured blessings as the priests finally withdraw.

Carlos is like FINALLY and decides to give Charles every bit of the benefit of his vast experience and looks smug as hell when Charles' attendants have to physically carry Charles to his own bed bc Carlos fucked him senseless lmao

agfalsgfsla this was so weird and detailed and I do not know WHERE it came from but if an actual writer sees this and wants to write it properly PLEASE tag me or message me!!!

EDIT: these are great photo references for adult Charles and Carlos in this AU

source

#charlos #carlos sainz jr x charles leclerc #mine #I hope you enjoy @vastappen !!#f1 royalty au #prince of monaco

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auspicious-manner · 10 months

Note

welcome back! just some simple domestic fluff with mike faist and famous reader! get to this whenever you feel like it! lots of love<3

thank you for the kindness! <3

i’ve missed writing for mike! also have you guys seen the new challengers trailer AHHHHH IM SO EXCITED IT LOOKS SO GOOD!!! i have a few challengers themed mike stories in my inbox/drafts, so expect those somewhat soon ;)

also it’s been a long time since i’ve written a fluff fic, so sorry if this sucks lol

fem reader x mike faist

warnings: anxiety and mentions of depression

Worthy

•

you loved nearly everything about your life. being an actress, singer, and now a writer has given you more confidence than anything else.

you started as an actress. ever since you were little, you would put on shows for your entire family with costumes and scripts. they weren’t simple either; you would perform full dramatic monologues, emotional scenes, and romantic moments with your stuffed animals. your mom didn’t have to hesitate putting you into acting classes.

into your teen years, you booked commercials and small roles in children’s shows. then, right when you turned eighteen, you got your big break when you gained a major role in a movie alongside some of hollywood’s biggest stars, directed by none other than steven spielberg.

from there, business offers and acting gigs flew in. everything seemed to be happening all at once. it was all so overwhelming. but fame is what you wanted, right?

that’s what you thought, at least. as a child, you glamorized the picturesque hollywood starlight life. you wanted everything from the glitz to the glam. you didn’t realize that being famous came with this sense of dread that one wrong move could end your entire career. you felt unworthy of being in the spotlight all the time. so, in order to keep those intrusive thoughts from rearing their ugly heads, you kept so busy that not even a single thought could even cross your mind.

you knew you could sing, and you began writing songs and releasing music. you even went on a north american tour. then, when the tour slowed down, you wrote a novel. you kept so busy that you lost track of who you really were. what you felt you were meant to do.

sure, you had success and had more connections and fans than anyone could dream of. but what did it matter when you felt so alone?

you began closing yourself off. the limelight was making you anxious, and you couldn’t bring yourself to be seen in public in the state you were in. it all felt so hopeless. you considered living of the grid and going incognito in order to escape the expectations placed on you. for months, you stayed as hidden as possible, and it only made things worse.

being a long time friend of steven spielberg at this point, he sent you a personal invite to the premiere his new film west side story. you almost threw the invite in the trash. the thought of going out on a red carpet again and seeing all of these faces with bright, flashing cameras was out of the equation for you. yet, you missed the feeling of being dolled up. you missed feeling pretty.

when the big night came, seeing yourself in the dress that you had picked out didn’t feel real. you felt like you and not you all at the same time. your mind was conflicted; you knew the glam of hollywood was what made you happy, but since it had been so long since you have felt that way, you felt oddly out of body.

it was a long, off white dress with a leg slit and a completely open back. the dress had sleeves that stopped just below your shoulders, and it hugged your body tightly but not uncomfortably. your wavy hair fell onto your shoulders neatly in a half up half down, your curtain bangs framing your face. for the makeup, you tried to keep it relatively natural, and you didn’t want to draw too many eyes. you paired the look with some heels and a purse.

looking in the mirror, you tried your hardest to feel positive. you looked beautiful, you felt beautiful, yet something still felt wrong. maybe it was because you had no one by your side if you got anxious. as far as you knew, you would know one person there.

the car sent to pick you up took you on a ride through new york as your heart rate quickened. when you arrived at the scene, the bright lights and red carpet gave you chills.

after walking into the crowd, it didn’t take long to find steven. he pulled you aside into a fatherly hug. it felt good to be near someone as familiar as him.

“Y/N, long time no see!” he said excitedly as you hugged him.

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” you replied, pulling away.

“what have you been up to? knowing you, i’m sure it’s something great!”

you smiled, trying to create a facade. “oh, you know, a little bit of this and a little bit of that,” you said while nervously laughing. you couldn’t tell steven spielberg that you’ve been in a slump and that the most productive part of your day is waking up and making something to eat.

“i’m excited to see whatever you have up your sleeve,” he said, going to your side and taking your arm. “now, there’s someone i’d like you to meet.”

he guided you through the crowds, and you kept close to him. everything was becoming overwhelming.

you approached a man with his back turned to you. “Y/N, meet mike faist. you two could have a lot to talk about.”

the man turned around, and the first thing you noticed about him was that his eyes seemed to be glowing. they were brighter and bluer than anything you’d ever seen. they were absolutely stunning. upon further inspection, you realized that you recognized him from the posters for the movie, and knew he was playing riff.

he smiled at you, almost as enthralled with you as you were with him. he held out a hand, and you took it gently to shake it. you hoped he didn’t feel the sweat building on your palms. “Y/N L/N, it’s lovely to meet you.”

you grew flustered. “how’d you know my last name?”

mike looked taken aback. “doesn’t everyone?” your smile fell slightly, and mike noticed. “i’m a big fan of your work. your songs, your movies, and i recently started reading your book too. you’re amazing at everything you do.”

steven patted your shoulder before walking away, leaving you with mike. mike had a presence about him that made you feel welcomed and seen. it’s been a while since you felt that way.

“so, mike, what else have you been in?” you asked, wanting to know more about his work. he knew so much about yours, and you felt a little embarrassed that you didn’t know more about him.

he smiled and looked down. “i was a newsie in newsies on broadway, and i covered jack kelly. i played connor murphy in dear evan hansen on broadway, i was in a tv show called panic, and a lot of other stage and film work.”

you nodded, squinting your eyes slightly. “you know, i’ve seen both of those shows on broadway, and i didn’t realize until just now that that was you.”

he laughed. “am i not memorable?”

you giggled in return. “i don’t think it’s that. i just think i’m missing a little part of my brain.”

you and mike continued to talk about your respective careers. you noticed that he was so easy to talk to, and that he listened to and hung onto every word that you would say. it gave you butterflies, and you wondered what was wrong with you.

sadly, you remembered you’re at mike’s movie premiere and he had to do interviews and talk to other people besides you. you could tell he wanted to stay with you, but knew he had other obligations. before he left, he said, “we’ll see each other again before the night is through.”

you’ve had plenty of men try and charm you, with the efforts always falling flat. you’re no stranger to keeping your feelings under control and learning to not date in hollywood. it was too easy to be played by the wrong guys. but, your heart was telling you something different about mike. he made you more nervous and giddy than anyone else ever had and you barely knew him. you started to forget about the fact that you’ve been a hermit battling with your mental health for the last few months.

you caught up with a few old friends from the industry that you had recognized in the crows before it was time to go to a private screening of the film.

you watched as everyone funneled into seats in the theater next to their plus ones and friends. you stood back, scoping the area for empty seats. you felt frozen as all the seats seemed to fill.

“follow me,” a voice said close to your ear before taking your hand and walking with you down the rows of seats. you noticed it was mike and you smiled to yourself.

he took you close to the screen, but not too close, and sat down with you. you sighed. “thanks for saving me back there, i was getting stressed.”

mike tilted his head. “you’re from around here. you’re used to red carpets and screenings, aren’t you? i didn’t think this would stress out someone as experienced as you.”

he was right, it shouldn’t have stressed you out. you were so used to hiding away for so long that this all felt new to you again like it did when you were eighteen.

mike noticed your expression change, and he turned to you. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said anything. but you’re worrying me a bit, is everything okay?”

you tried to brush it off. “i’m fine now, really. crowds just get me anxious-”

“i’m not just talking about tonight,” mike said, leaning in towards you. “the world has caught onto your unprecedented disappearance from the public eye. that can never mean anything good. are you sure you’re okay?”

you bit your lip, holding back tears. it was one thing to keep everything to yourself and pack it away and never confront what you’re actually going through, but to hear someone else say it put it into perspective for you. you had completely lost track of your vision and goal in life. you had lost track of you.

mike put his hand on your leg comfortingly, taking the silence and the glossy tears hidden in your eyes as a sign that you weren’t okay. the silent support he sent was exactly what you needed in that moment. a stranger was the person you least expected to comfort you.

before you could both think to say anything else, steven appeared at the front of the crowd and gave a speech, followed by the showing of the movie. every time mike appeared on the screen, you got chills. he was amazing. his performance made you hate riff yet feel some kind of empathy for him. that was due to mike’s spellbinding performance.

occasionally, you would feel mike’s eyes glance at you when important scenes came up. it’s almost as if he wanted to see your reaction. he wanted your approval.

then, after two and a half short hours, the movie ended, and the theater erupted in applause. everyone stood on their feet and you did the same, small tears running down your cheeks. you looked at mike, and his smile dropped when he saw you.

“why are you crying?” he asked.

you sniffled. “it was so amazing. you were so amazing.”

mike turned red, and he reached down to envelope you in probably the best hug you’ve ever had. he had the widest grin, and it wasn’t just from the movie.

you and mike traded numbers, and from that night on, you became inseparable.

mike awoke something in you that hadn’t been seen in a long time. he made you feel inspired at motivated and comfortable. you hid yourself away from the world in fear that the public would turn on you, twist your words into something far from the truth. mike dispelled those feelings for you; you felt like yourself again around him.

after the night at the premiere, mike made the first move in wanting to talk to you. you face timed each other for hours each night, staying awake into the early hours of the morning just talking about anything and everything.

you went out for a coffee date a week after the premiere, and it seemed clear to both of you that there was more to be discovered than just a friendship.

as you were walking through central park with mike, keeping your head slightly down as to not attract any unwanted eyes, you boldly brushed your hand against his, letting it linger for a moment. his hand moved away, but creeped back into place when he realized what you were doing. he slowly grazed his finger tips against yours as he walked, and he reached his fingers out and your hand fit neatly into his. you continued to hold hands for the rest of your walk.

when you arrived back at your apartment, you both sat down on the couch, your bodies turned inwards to face each other.

“i feel like i’ve know you my whole life, but its only been a week,” you said quietly, looking into his eyes.

mike smiled lightly. “i’ve never clicked this fast with anyone.”

you both paused, and mike hesitated before he spoke again. “can i ask you a question?”

you nodded, and he went on.

“there’s always been so much speculation about your love life in the media, and dating rumors and whatnot. i don’t like believing anything the media says, but i want to hear it straight from you.”

you smiled to yourself. the media liked to pull things that weren’t actually there and make up stories for fun. you’ve never actually had a real date since you’ve been in the business, let alone a relationship.

“i haven’t found anyone worthy yet.”

mike nodded, scooting closer to you. you could tell he was aiming to put his arm around you, but hesitated to see your reaction. you leaned in, telling him without words that it was okay, and he rested his arm around your shoulder as you laid close to each other. you immediately felt comfortable under his arm.

“i admire you, Y/N. i always have. i like that you know what you want, and that you know yourself. that’s a really great quality to have.”

you blushed, but your happiness faltered. you leaned your head back on his arm. “yeah, i guess. too bad i haven’t felt that way recently.”

mike looked at you, frowning. “why? if you don’t mind me asking.”

you weren’t typically the one to open up quickly to strangers. but mike felt different. he wasn’t going to judge, or make you feel bad about yourself. he was comforting.

“i’ve hid myself away from the world because i’m scared. i’m so insanely scared of messing up and having the whole world turn on me. so, i did the only thing i could think to do. i locked myself away in hopes that it would help,” you giggled nervously. “it didn’t do shit.”

you were smiling at your own misfortune, but mike stayed somber. “i’m sorry, Y/N, that’s awful.”

you shrugged. “yeah, but i did it to myself.”

mike sat up, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. you froze under his touch. “the world needs your brilliance. don’t be afraid, there’s so many people ready to guide you and protect you from anyone trying to take you down. i’m here for you, i promise.”

you bit your lip, unable to say words. mike was so incredibly kind. all you could do was whisper a thank you.

mike put his arm back around you, and you leaned into the couch together. “if there’s anything i can do to help, let me know,” he said quietly.

you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. “you already have.”

mike smiled, turning red. “you’re cute.”

you felt complete. you hadn’t known mike for that long, but he filled a part of your soul that had been gone for a while. he made you feel liked again when you couldn’t like yourself.

you sat up and looked at him. your faces were only a few inches apart. at the same time, you leaned in, and your lips grazed each other before interlocking. it felt euphoric.

you pulled away, remaining close, and you smiled at each other. “you’re the most talented person i’ve ever met,” you whispered to him.

mike lightly placed his hand under your chin. “that means a lot coming from you. i love everything you do.”

you leaned in again, feeling your old self coming back again. you felt renewed. mike made you feel like the star you are again.

you rested your forehead on his. “thank you.”

mike tilted his head slightly. “for what?”

“for making me feel worthy again.”

mike smiled lightly, then gave you a short but sweet kiss. “never forget that you’re beautiful and wanted.”

a small tear escaped your eye. mike was everything you needed. you almost felt in denial that someone like him could be making you feel this way because you were so used to men not valuing you. you were moving fast with mike, but it felt right. you were never one to believe in love at first sight, but this was pretty damn close.

you leaned into his side again, and his hand rested on the back of your head. you could get used to this.

#mike faist #mike faist x reader #mike faist fanfiction #mike faist imagine #riff #mike faist riff

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feysandarcheron · 3 months

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Spoilers for the HOFAS bonus chapter with Bryce Nesta and Azriel and some vague HOFAS spoilers. Basically analyzing the songs’ meanings and going crazy over elriel

Omg the fact that all the elements of the Stone Mother story connect to the plot. (The second and last bullet points in this section have vague HOFAS spoilers)

Grieving mother. They all just got done talking about their mothers. Ember being separated from and grieving for Bryce. The Archeron mother would roll in her grave to see Nesta now and she treated Feyre terribly. Feyre being a perfect mother. The potential for Nesta to be a mother. Azriel’s mother being “anything but terrible”. And of course The Mother is like god in acotar.

Separated and fighting children. *HOFAS spoilers* Helen and Silene separated forever after a battle. Also reminds me of the 7 courts of Prythian that were separated after Theia’s rule.

Separated Man and Woman. He goes up to the sky and she stays on a mountain, which reminds me of The Embrace statue from Crescent City which is Solas and Cthona, the sun and the mountains. Also, she turns to stone on the mountain, which stone reminds me of the prison and of course the significance of the 3 mountains, and what could be beneath them.

Theme of the story is peace over violence. CC is fighting for a better world, and in ACOTAR they are trying to keep the fragile peace in place after the war.

There is also a poem called Stone Mother about indigenous lands stolen by colonialism and climate change. The Asteri are described as colonizers, and *vague spoilers for HOFAS* also Helen and Silene did something to impact the land in ACOTAR and Midgard. Also water is a big point in the Stone Mother, and *more vague spoilers for HOFAS* something happened with the water in Midgard.

So it’s just crazy people think the part about how Woman came to be with Man won’t also have a connection to the plot 😭

Good Man is lonely and wants company. Azriel being alone all this time and emo

Woman wants to be with Man but is married to Bear… an ugly beast if you will !

Bear gets into a fight with Woman and she kills him. Potential for blood duel.

She searches for Man and when she finds him she hides and just watches him, but he sees her foot prints. Reminds me of how shy Elain is and how Azriel is the only one who sees her and vice versa.

Woman reveals herself and Man sees she’s afraid so he speaks to her kindly, which reminds me of ACOWAR elriel

He offers her FOOD !! Mates hello

She accepts the food and each night sleeps closer to him until they eventually get married, which reminds me of how elriel have just been continuously building slowly with each book

PLUS the only other song mentioned is from a CC ballet called the Glass Coffin which is a Brothers Grimm version of Sleeping Beauty (!!!) (The third and last bullet points have vague HOFAS spoilers)

A man uses magic on a woman he wants to marry (a fake bond??), waking her with enchanting music (lightsinger connection !?)

The magic pins her to the bed so she can’t move, and she doesn’t like his magic, so she rejects his proposal by remaining silent. Reminds me of Elain with Lucien.

In anger he puts a spell on her and traps her in a coffin and enchanted her land to make it all barren. *vague HOFAS spoilers* barren land turning fertile again comes up in HOFAS, both Midgard and ACOTAR.

Another man finds the coffin and frees her, they get married, and the land turns fertile again (*vague HOFAS spoilers* again something like this with the land happens in HOFAS), which reminds me of Azriel potentially freeing Elain from the spell of a fake bond, and I think we will also see something like this with land in acotar 5.

Anyways slay elriel foreshadowing. I will edit this to fill in the HOFAS spoilers parts once the book comes out!

#hofas spoilers #Elriel #pro elriel #hofas

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an-au-blog · 21 days

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"There's an ugly witch in the woods" the kids would sing. "In raggy hoods,/Any job will do,/For gold coins two!/A hex or a curse,/For a coin-full purse."

And so, Shanks ventured out into the woods, based on a children's nursery rhyme, hoping and praying that the witch could help. He's searched high and low to find the love of his life, who left him heartbroken and rejected.

He finally found the so-called witch, but they refused to talk to him. They shut the door in his face, refusing to talk to him, blocking the door and waiting for him to leave. But Shanks never did. Instead, when he saw that the witch was blocking the door with their body, he started talking, trying to convince them that he needed their help. He told them about the love of his life, who he had been seeking out ever since he got old enough to, how much he loves the other and he offered money, lots of money. Finally, the witch, covered in cloaks from head to toe, let him in. They didn't talk to him directly, using a familiar or writing.

They did a fast seance, telling him it was a lost cause. But when Shanks insisted on finding them, he was like a dog biting on a bone, no budging until he got what he wanted. The witch relented and gave him, what they thought were three vague and unfindable things. An article of fond memories, the laughter of the past and the most precious stone unbeknownst to man.

But then Shanks came back with a locket of hair that Buggy had given him when their foolish childhood dreams were to get married. He also carried a mirror that replicated the memories of his love in his happiest days, even though in most he was laughing at Shanks, it was his favorite sound. And the last, he brought the promise stone Buggy had given him - a pebble that looked blue under moonlight, as a keepsake until they could properly get married.

The witch looked unhappy with the items but did their chant and ritual. In the end, they told him the same as last time - his love didn't love him back and didn't want to be found, so he should stop searching.

And that would have been it if Shanks wasn't so stubborn and hadn't kept on giving the witch money to help him. The witch kept on bamboozling him, until, finally, the witch had enough.

"Will you stop it, you foolish man! How do I have to tell you to get lost, so you finally listen!" The witch screamed at him, tears threatening to fall.

Shanks only smiled at him. "Am I so horrible for wanting to hear your voice, my love." He kneeled down and took his hand. "No force can keep me away from you, Buggy."

The witch, Buggy, rubbed his eyes, "You idiot..."

"Will you accept this idiot as your own?" Shanks, placed Buggy's hand on his face, nuzzling in the touch, craving what he had been able to barely see, but never touch or hear. A man deprived of sight and sound, finally relishing in the beauty of the music of his lover's voice, the soft caresses, like seeing color for the first time in his life.

"How did you know..."

"I'd recognize you if I were a blind man and you a mute. By the essence of your being."

#or smth like that idk #kudos to those of you who got the “Song Of Achilles” ref in the last bit #shuggy #shanks x buggy #buggy x shanks #op

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lvckyyz · 3 months

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hephaestus cabin headcanon

cabin’s song: in my blood - shawn mendes

it’s my cabin🥹🫶

okay, so our father is the god of artisans, blacksmiths, carpenters, craftsmen, fire, metallurgy, metalworking, sculpture and volcanoes

basically we’re very talented people

if you’re a children of hephaestus you like doing things your own way

you learned how to enjoy the process of creating/planning something

however, 🫵 you are NOT organized at all, you just learned to deal with how messy your life is

i don’t know who created that thing about most hephaestus' children being ugly because, honestly, i’ve never seen any of us who was truly ugly

so i’d say we’re all beautiful without trying😌

when you were a child you used to ask the adults questions about how the things worked, and if they didn’t know how to answer you’d just figure it out yourself

most of times you understand physics but just can’t get good grades on that subject (if you have it at school)

as a daughter of hephaestus, i know how awkward it is to talk about our feelings, especially about love, and that’s why we don’t talk about them to anyone☺️

and it’s not that we don’t trust anyone, (i mean, we do take longer time to trust other people but anyway) we just feel like we’re bothering our friends/family when we do it

you either never give up or is just freaking out after something goes wrong on the first try

we hate seeing someone being ignored

usually friends with cabin 1, 6 and 13 (maybe cabin 5 too)

you’re competitive, and you want to be important

questionable sense of humor

cabin 9 would be so fun🥺 i can imagine the hephaestus’ children working together in a big project, and sharing their ideas with people who would actually understand it😭

we also have a questionable taste for music but we’ll say we have the best one anyway

you don’t really show your emotions so some people might think you don’t care about anything

but you actually overthink a lot🤷‍♀️

probably you’ve had an artistic phase

you are a completely different person when you’re with your friends

you have some unhealthy habits like forgetting to drink water, eating too many sweets, sleeping late (or not sleeping at all), …

you are really trustable

a/n: ahh i was so happy writting this! i guess it ended up a bit messy, but i hope you guys can understand it🫶

next: cabin 13 ☠️

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #heros of olympus #pjo hoo toa #jason grace #pjo imagine #pjo tv show #rick riordan #riordanverse #headcanon #leo valdez #tyson #cabin 9 #hephaestus #will solace #nico di angelo #thalia grace

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thispageisrendering · 10 months

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Autistic Safe Spaces

If you own a business or a restaurant that serves the public, as the issue gets talked about more, you might be wondering how you can better help the neurodivergent community. Some places try to give spaces where autistic people can go to get their needs fulfilled, so if that is of interest to you, I've compiled a list of things we really enjoy.... made by an actual neurodivergent person.

NOTE: This is list is made by an adult, for adults and teens. The needs of children are slightly different, though similar, and would surely require a different list. 1. Silence - A lot of places, including malls, restaurants, and crowded stores, are overwhelmingly loud. The brains of autistic people process stimuli differently, and we can't "tune out" sounds in the same way neurotypicals can. Silence can involve the (seemingly) obvious things, like turning down music or reducing the number of people in an area, but a lot of things are loud to the point of pain that you might not think of, including metal silverware on ceramic dishware, shopping carts, doors opening and closing, and shoes on floors. A good rule of thumb is to think about how you would feel in a space if you had a migraine. This is easier in some places than others, but accommodations such as plastic dishware, softer floors, and carts left outside can make a big difference. 2. Stillness - I call the visual category stillness and not "blankness" or "simpleness" because that is simply not what I mean. A space can still be quite beautiful while not being overstimulating. We do not want ugly things, and you can still use style and color theory and design principles, but we do want walls without too much signage or distracting detail, floors and carpets without tightly repeating patterns or too much contrast (stripes and small tiles both bug me), and a visual block from the rest of the world, where things are moving like crazy.

3. Style - Because autism is often seen as a disorder than affects children, style can often be overlooked when designing materials and spaces for autistic people (although this, I would argue, is silly; many brilliant artists are / were on the spectrum, and a child, especially an autistic child, can enjoy beauty as much or more than you), and if you have the chance, I plead to you-- remedy this. Autistic people can appreciate detail and wonder in a way that is not concurrent with anything neurotypical people do, and along with having "icks", things we find particularly distressing, we also experience "glimmers", moments of unbounded joy over (possibly) seemingly ordinary things. I feel glimmers when shown any well-executed style; I feel glimmers in office buildings and abandoned neighborhoods and driving by courthouses... any style that is significantly different from my own, and significantly committed to the bit, so to speak, is a wonder to me. If you have the money and the resources, give us beauty, give us a an area that contains classy chic lounge or a medieval tavern or a vast, well-made mural of hyperfixations you polled from your own customers... pay craftsmen to give you a 20th century train station or a heist or an illusion floor in one area that looks as if dwarves are mining for gold hundreds of feet below you. You do not need to overwhelm us with detail-- this area need not be unusually large, or contain live-action roleplaying employees, or be loud or bright or over-the-top-- but you should also take the project seriously, bring people who love what they do and will truly take this opportunity with joy and a keen eye for style. 4. Solitude - I am a high-masking individual, which means that when I am being watched, I cannot "safely" relax; if you appear distressed, people sometimes talk to you, and ask if you are okay, which is a nightmare for me. I strongly prefer small, quiet spaces where I can be alone, about the size of a bathroom cubicle (which is where I do go to decompress a lot), where I can be unobserved and alone. It is a wonderful feeling-- it doesn't need to be (and shouldn't) be a perfectly soundproof room, but just somewhere I can be myself for a minute.

5. Snacking - Being autistic is exhausting. We process 42% more information than you all, and it really takes it out of us. Lots of people on all ends of the neurodiversity spectrum people have trouble waiting long hours between meals, but when a lack of snacks could mean a meltdown... please just let us eat our own food. At a sit-down restaurant, waiting for the food and not being able to eat anything until it comes is unbearable, I just get so hungry and frustrated, while being overstimulated and masking the whole time, and on top of that, because I cannot eat gluten, dairy, or much sugar / refined carbs, the appetizers are usually unappetizing or off-limits for me, and the food on the menu itself just as bad. I don't actually get much sustenance from meals provided and / or eaten in public, and a bit of acceptance around eating a couple pecans while you wait for you meal goes a long way. This is also true in stores, especially in malls, where food sold is usually not of much value to me, but there aren't great places to sit down and eat something. And, as a side note, if you want to sell food that appeals to people with autism, think Plain, Cheap, and Childish-- I mean this with absolutely no disrespect to autistic people, but I would never in a million years eat a fancy sharp cheddar (it tastes awful and gives me a headache), but I love the shredded colby jack from Costco. We like simple mac 'n' cheese, chicken nuggets, plain noodles, hot dogs... if a fancy chef would think it wasn't real food, it probably tastes amazing to us.

In conclusion: I don't know why I alliterated this list; I just started doing it, and I liked it. Many autistic people love life and everything in it, we just can't take it in all at once. Give us beauty. Give us the silence and stillness to appreciate it. And, overwhelmingly... leave us alone :). We love our solitude.

I have just been chatting in this post (I'm sure there are spelling mistakes please ignore them lol), so feel free to add if you have more ideas, fellow neurodivergents. POST SCRIPT: If you are doing anything similar to this, please talk to autistic people before embarking on a journey like this, and take in a wide bank of opinions. Don't worry, we like to answer honest questions, and we talk quite a lot if you let us. We love you guys. You got this.

#autism #adhd #audhd #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #neurodivergence #autistic #actuallyautistic #adult autism #adult autistic #autism awareness #autism advocacy #autism adhd #accomodation

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endlich-allein · 1 year

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Till Lindemann from "Rammstein" turns 60

Good man

Von Flake Lorenz

3. Januar 2023

Till Lindemann, "Rammstein" singer and lyricist, turns 60. Congratulations from his longtime friend and keyboardist.

Actually, one would not have to wait for a milestone birthday to honor this wonderful person. You could just pause and pay homage to the force of nature on any other evening. It may also be that Till Lindemann's birthday this Wednesday is not true. Even when Bravo reported about Rammstein for the first time in the early 1990s, our dates of birth were completely out of thin air. We were way too old for the Bravo target group back then, so the editors simply made us a few years younger. That wasn't a problem because the internet was still empty.

We soon realized that it doesn't matter how old you really are. Much later, when Rammstein became successful, being old was even better. You can deal more calmly with all that nonsense and enjoy your happiness in peace. Also, a person's age is just in the eye of the beholder, at least I don't know anyone who would call themselves old. On the other hand, I can still remember how, as a young musician, I couldn't calm down when I found out that the guitarist in a band I was friends with was over 30 years old. "He can still make music?" I asked. Men over 50 were half-dead, bleating grandpas in ugly brown clothes, they were every teenager's natural enemy.

It's 1986. Till turns up the system. I'm worried: What will the neighbors think?

Till seemed old to me when I met him. That was in the mid-1980s in East Germany. Till was not only older than me, in contrast to me he was already really grown up. He lived in his own house while I was still in my parents' room and didn't even have a girlfriend. I saw Till for the first time in 1986 in a Schwerin club after a Feeling B concert. I immediately noticed him: Till was a tall, strong man who on the one hand exuded natural authority, but at the same time seemed very shy. We didn't hesitate when he offered to take us home with him. His house in the country near Schwerin seemed like paradise to me, it was incredibly comfortable, probably because he had set it up that way himself; he had knocked out the walls between the rooms and left only the half-timbering. The volume on his system was turned up to the limit, the Sisters Of Mercy screamed from the cheap speakers.

I had never dared to do anything like this in my life. What would the neighbors think? When I wanted to play a song on the piano in between, Till simply carried it for me to another room where it wasn't so loud. At some point we all fell asleep where we sat and stood, like in Sleeping Beauty, and when I woke up the next morning, I imagined what it would be like if you always lived like Till. I really liked this idea.

Of course, his life wasn't a one-stop party. He also lived in the house because the argument with his father, who was not exactly frail, had escalated beforehand. Till had hit his father, the children's book author Werner Lindemann, with such a punch that he flew into the strawberry bed. Then Werner Lindemann threw Till's things out of the skylight. Life in a sports boarding school and training as a carpenter in Rostock were no fun either. Later, as a single father, Till lived with his daughter Nele in his nest, which in turn probably saved him from being drafted into the army. Till always seemed and always seems in a good mood to me – a bit like Obelix, of course not in terms of stature, for God's sake, he looks more like Arnold Schwarzenegger, but in terms of personality he's more like Obelix. Always according to the motto: "Friends, I have a plan, let's go here and there and break everything to pieces!"

Practical: He could change a wheel on the Trabi without using the jack

When the wall was suddenly open, Till drove to Lübeck with a couple of friends and spent all the West money he had saved and exchanged on gummy bears. He sat in a doorway and ate them all. Of course, he also manages a wild boar – it was an advantage back then that he lived so close to the railway embankment. When a waiter asks Till if he liked his food, he usually replies: "Yes, thank you, it was plenty." Incidentally, he also shares Obelix's great love of small dogs. Since Till is with (allegedly) Francis of Assisi, who wrote: "The dog remains loyal to me in the storm, man not even in the wind."

And like Obelix, Till seems to have fallen into a magic potion, because he really has tremendous powers.

At that time he could change a wheel on the Trabi without using the jack. In the old days, when we had to work as stewards at an open-air festival, Till just banged his fist through a car window to hold the driver down.

If Till sees any body of water, he immediately plunges into it and plows through it like a motorboat. He tucks the boxes that we carry in the studio or in the rehearsal room under his arm alone.

If a door is locked somewhere, he just sticks me through a second-story window so I can open it all from the inside.

I've never met anyone who is so pragmatic about music and lyrics. Till would never have originally thought of becoming a singer. Although he observed that musicians in Schwerin had a hit with women and then played drums in a punk band - but in all those years I really never had the feeling that punk music particularly interested him. An effective and well thought-out stage show was always more important to him. For example, Till once put chickens in the bass drum and only pulled the cloth away after the first song, causing the animals to tumble across the stage.

Cheering crowds, prizes and honours: All of this actually leaves him completely cold

When Till was supposed to sing with us, it was very difficult for him at first, because as a singer you can't hide behind an instrument or another musician. Then he put on welding goggles so that he looked like a friendly insect. Till sang beautifully, deeply and soothingly. We stopped worrying immediately. Everything would be fine. We just needed good lyrics. So Till sat down to write them. He never pretends to be a great artist who needs to express his deep feelings. He prefers to think about what else can be lit on stage (like me). The concerts used to be a lot of fun. At that time we always looked for an attractive village inn first, in order to eat as much as possible. Only then did we set up our stuff and play.

Till loves women - and women love him. But how he manages to go through his life completely free of any affectation, even after 37 years, still arouses deep admiration from me. Cheering crowds of spectators, prizes and honors actually leave him completely cold. Organizing a party for our entire crew seems to be more important to him than any concert. Incidentally, he has renounced his rights as a lyricist for decades, so that all six of us at Rammstein earn exactly the same. In any case, Till has extended the life of the band, because money is usually the trigger for a breakup. He, on the other hand, has a very decisive influence on our band with his lyrics and his voice.

So we can still successfully defend our small East German village. By Teutates! May the sky never fall on Till's head!

(I'm not sure of this whole translation so feel free to correct me)

#thank you so much flake #i am not crying you are #till is a good man and a rare and beautiful being human #till and flake #my loves #till is love 🖤#till lindemann #flake lorenz #paul landers #oliver riedel #christoph schneider #richard kruspe #rammstein #rammstein 2023 #till's day

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