#but this is a subject that's been weighing on my mind a lot lately and F&C might have just been the straw that broke the camel's back

[spacevixenmusic]

Fionna and Cake thoughts so far

I like what they're doing, but there's a nagging part of me that's really of two minds about the whole thing. It's hard to explain.

There's something I don't like about the constant callback cameos by the original AT characters. Don't get me wrong, I understand why they're doing it - mechanically, thematically, nostalgically - but it is bothering me a bit. I don't think it's even a fault of the show itself, so much as it is a fault of The Current State of Media In General.

Listen, I have quite literally been watching Adventure Time religiously since the very first episode aired. I LOVE noticing all the subtle and not-so-subtle cameos in the Fionna and Cake series as they pass by, because I recognize them all from all this time I've spent immersed in this little universe. But there are times when it starts to feel like Fionna and Cake is a series of nothing BUT cameos and callbacks, and that kinda sours things for me.

I know, I know. Mechanically, that's how it's SUPPOSED to be, since Fionna and Cake is - by definition - a fanfic of Adventure Time. It's an AU. It's a crossover. It's a spin-off. It's SUPPOSED to be that. But just like with all the other big name reboot and remakes and re-imaginings we've gotten in the past 5-10 years, it's all just a big game of who's-who and tugging on nostalgia's heartstrings to make this IP emotionally impactful (i.e. Sad, because sadness is the only emotion people ever seem to give a shit about - but that's another opinion for another time).

The Current State of Media In General is that very few new original shows are being made. Studios aren't taking any risks. A significant percentage of shows in the past decade are all just carefully constructed, reimagined, retooled, re-tellings of every possible IP you ever felt attached to as a child. DuckTales, TMNT, Castlevania, Animaniacs, Trigun, He-Man, Super Mario Bros, even fucking FLCL has multiple new spin-offs. It's all about spotting the obscure references and fawning over the little ways they changed things into something meant to tickle the emotion centers in your brain (oh look, Della is singing the Moon Theme from the NES game but now it has lyrics and is sad!). After a while it starts to feel very...formulaic? Manipulative? Corporate?

Idk man, sometimes I just want something to be completely New and original, and not feel like a cut-and-paste heartstrings-playing nostalgia-fest. Sometimes I don't want my childhood to eat well. I want my adult self to have its own new things to enjoy, that mean something to me NOW. I want something that feels Fresh, like, oh I don't know, Adventure Time when Adventure Time first came out?

Again, I get why Fionna & Cake is all cameos. I get it. I understand it. And there's a big part of me that still even loves to see it. But I also sometimes feel kinda cheated by it at the same time. Like there's a glimpse of a show in there that could have been its own cool thing if it weren't so laser-focused on Expanding The Lore. I wish I could describe this feeling better. It's complicated. I'm complicated.

But hey, if you're out there and feeling the same way, congrats on finding this post. I'm right there with ya, buddy.

Now, let's get back to enjoying Fionna and Cake for what it is.

[togrowoldinv]

Date Night

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

A date night with Natasha

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, car sex, fingering (R receiving), soft and hot times

Note: I was thinking about Natasha as per usual. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

The candles and soft lighting illuminate Natasha’s smile. She looks at you like you’re the only person in the entire world.

The waiter pours her glass of wine and yours before walking away, leaving you and Natasha be. She takes a sip of her drink.

“I’m so glad we’re doing this,” she says once she’s swallowed the sweet liquid.

“Me too,” you agree. “It’s been far too long since we had a date night.”

“Mhm. Do you think the kids are behaving for Yelena?”

“Oh, I’m sure. But is Yelena behaving?” You joke.

Natasha chuckles and says, “Not a chance. That girl is so unpredictable.”

You laugh. The conversation continues to be about your family that you both love so much until Natasha changes the subject.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” she says, her voice comes out steady but the way her eyes don’t quite catch yours makes you nervous.

“Okay,” you say uneasily.

“I’m going to retire from avenging,” Nat says. You open your mouth to react, but she stops you short. “Before you say anything, I’ve thought a lot about this. It makes the most sense for our family. I can’t be out there risking my life. Not when I have so much to lose now.”

“Natasha-“

“I know,” she seems to read your mind. “I know it’s what I’ve always done. Fought for something. But it’s not what I want anymore.”

“Well, you know I support you no matter what,” you tell her. You see her take a deep breath. “And it does make sense why you’ve been different lately. This has been weighing on you. I’m glad you told me.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Nat says. “I have one more mission to go on before I retire. Steve already asked me to go, so I don’t want to leave him and the team hanging.”

“What kind of mission?”

“The kind that might not be the safest,” Nat reluctantly replies. “I’m sorry to tell you about it tonight, but it’s hard to get a moment alone with you.”

“I understand, Natasha,” you say. “Let’s just make the most of tonight before you go?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart. I love you,” Natasha says.

“I love you too,” you say.

The rest of the dinner goes by without anymore serious conversations. Natasha holds your hand as she walks you to the car. Like always, she opens the door for you to slide in.

“Ice cream?” She asks once she’s sitting in the drivers seat.

“The kids will be sad,” you reflect.

“The kids will never know,” Nat says, her playful smirk on her face. “Come on, baby. I want ice cream. Please?”

“Are you begging me?”

“Are you not into me begging you? Because last time I checked you like when I do that,�� her voice drops an octave and you feel your entire body react.

“Fine, we’ll get ice cream,” you relent. Nat kisses your cheek in victory. “Only because you’re so cute.”

“I’m not cute,” Nat pouts.

“You’re extremely cute.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, babe. Accept it.”

“Never.”

“Just drive,” you say.

You share a smile and Nat starts the car. She drives to your favorite ice cream place. Natasha doesn’t even have to ask you what you want. She already knows. She orders and you find a booth while she waits for the treats.

“I got two different ones because I wasn’t sure what you were feeling tonight,” she says. She slides into the booth across from you.

“Thank you, my love.”

You eat a little of both flavors while Nat does the same. While you’re eating, Natasha gets a text from Yelena. It’s a photo of the kids sound asleep in the living room.

“And it’s only 9pm. Well done, Yelena,” you say.

“I miss them,” Nat says.

“Me too,” you agree.

You reach across the table and intertwine her fingers with yours.

“How long?” You ask, bringing up the mission again. She doesn’t have to ask you to know it’s what you meant.

“2 maybe 3 weeks,” she replies. “I leave Friday.”

You nod. There’s a sadness lingering but you push it aside for now.

“Should we get the kids something?” Nat asks.

“Nah, it won’t be as good tomorrow. We’ll just take them out when you get back.”

“Good idea,” Nat says. “Let’s go.”

The ride home is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You love just existing with Natasha. No words can really capture how you’re feeling. She knows that.

When you get home, Nat stops you from opening your car door. She doesn’t say anything, but she leans across the center console and kisses you.

She kisses you like her life depends on it. Her tongue brushes against yours and you realize her intentions. You push her classic leather jacket off her shoulders.

“Nat,” you whisper as her lips move to your neck.

“I want you,” Nat says.

“You can have me,” you say.

She moves her hand to your pants and dips it beneath the fabric. It doesn’t take long at all to find where you want her the most. Natasha knows your body so well.

“Fuck,” you mumble as she moves her fingers through your folds.

“I love you,” Natasha says against your lips. She leaves hot, opened mouthed kisses all over your face, neck, and any other skin she can reach.

“I love you,” you reply. “Fuck, I love you.”

It’s been too long since you’ve done something like this. Since you’ve been entirely lost in each other in a not so private place. Her and the circumstances leave you feeling so hot.

“Come for me,” Natasha says. She knows your body and your whimpers well enough to know you’re close. “Come for me, detka.”

You come hard against her hand. Natasha grins at the pleasure she sees move through your entire body.

She kisses you softly once you’ve opened your eyes again.

“Let’s go inside?” She asks.

You nod. She gets out of the car as you readjust your clothes and follow her.

Once inside, you love the sight you see. Yelena is laying between the kids on the couch. She’s sound asleep.

“Cute,” you whisper.

Nat takes a photo before you tiptoe past your sweet family. Before you make it to your bedroom, you both hear Yelena.

“I know you two were out there a while before you came in,” she says quietly, her eyes still closed.

You and Nat just giggle.

“Night, Yelena,” Natasha says.

“Goodnight, lovebirds,” she replies.

You and Natasha go to your bedroom and finish what you started.

You’re always so proud of her in everything she does, and you know her future even without avenging will be just fine.

And she’ll always come home to you.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Flush Little Baby, Don't You Cry

ALASTOR x READER Summary: Alastor thinks your permanent blush is cute, similar to Charlie's even. But what if you aren't actually blushing at all his advances? Warnings: Small mention of scars, allusions to death. Rating: PG For the always lovely @anon-of-the-void Ask and you shall receive my dear!! Requests are still open - see pinned post for details!

In the chaotic space of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the swirling chaos of Hell, an unexpected connection began to blossom between Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, and you, a newcomer to the hotel's staff as a receptionist.(To which Husk was greatly pleased that now he could just focus on bartending and not deal with as many ‘idiots’)

Alastor, with his charismatic demeanor and macabre sense of humor, found himself strangely drawn to your presence. You were different from the other inhabitants of the hotel, having a quiet demeanor and gentle nature standing out amidst the cacophony of voices and chaos. However, neither of you had dared to voice romantic interest, both of you unsure of the other's feelings and your own.

It was during one of your chance encounters early on in the hotel's grand foyer that Alastor noticed something peculiar about you. Little red circles adorned your cheeks, slightly tinted whenever you smiled or laughed. Even when, and especially when, frightened - they glowed slightly. Alastor found himself captivated by this. At first, he dismissed those little circles as mere blush or simple state of your demon form similar to Charlie or Nifty, finding them endearing in their resemblance to the delicate flush that adorned his mother's face in his long-forgotten memories of his mortal life.To him, it was endearing, a subtle charm that only added to your allure and reminded him of a simpler time in his life that brought him a sense of peace and familiarity. 

Because of this assumption, Alastor's fondness for you only grew, his interest piqued by the circle's presence. He found himself seeking out your company more often, engaging in lively conversations and sharing moments of laughter amidst the chaos of the hotel, just to see the cute flush of your rosy cheeks every time. The revelation ignited a fierce protectiveness within Alastor, a primal instinct to shield you from any harm that might befall you. He watched over you like a silent guardian, his presence a comforting shadow in the tumultuous world of the hotel.

However, his actions did not go unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the hotel, who watched with a mixture of amusement and bemusement as the usually aloof Radio Demon became fiercely protective of their new receptionist. Some whispered behind closed doors, speculating on the nature of your relationship, while others simply shook their heads in amusement at Alastor's unexpected display of strange affection.

As the days passed, you too began to notice Alastor's increased vigilance and protective nature. Sensing his concern, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. One evening, as the chaos of the hotel ebbed into a rare moment of tranquility, you found yourself alone with Alastor in his radio room, a perk that only you and Nifty enjoyed. It was a cozy tower despite its menacing metal exterior, with cozy chairs and vintage curtains. A lot like Alastor in a way, scary on the outside and maybe even the inside but something sweet and old was there too. 

Taking a deep breath and mustering the courage to broach the subject that had been weighing on your mind, you spoke. 

"Alastor," You began softly, voice barely above a whisper, "I noticed you've been... different around me lately. And I think it's because of these." With a hesitant hand, you gestured to the crimson circles on your cheeks that had remained beneath layers of uncertainty and shame.  In your time in Hell, many had found out about the circles on your cheeks. And had left you for them. So you were worried about approaching Alastor on this subject to say the least. 

Alastor turned his attention towards you, his crimson eyes softening with concern. "I assure you, my dear, it's merely a demon's instinct to protect those they care about."

You nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips at his veiled confession. You would note that for later. "I appreciate it, truly. But there's something I need to tell you."

With a gentle touch, you traced your fingertips along the scared cheeks, gaze meeting Alastor's unwavering stare. "These marks... they're not from blushing or simply a part of my demon state…. They're scars – reminders of a past I'd rather forget."

Alastor's expression shifted from curiosity to empathy as he listened to this confession. Suddenly it all clicked in his head. The way you would flinch when anyone would get too close too quickly, loud noises sparked the tint of the scars to glow, and how the scars moved with each expression you made. They stayed on your face 24/7 but didn’t shrink or expand like Charlie’s with each new expression. Instead they stayed stagnant and were less of circles and more oval shaped. Definitely not a blush or demon feature now that he had a closer look. 

In fact, that cute little blush that he adored so much didn't happen within the circular scars on your face but around them. How had he been so blind? His shadows would mock him later for this.

"I see," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mhmm, yet they do nothing but add to your fierce beauty my dear."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you met Alastor's understanding gaze. In that moment, both of you realized that despite the literal and metaphorical scars that haunted their pasts, they had found solace and understanding in each other's presence.  

He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite his fearsome reputation. And this time, you didn’t flinch away but instead leaned into his embrace. It felt warm and comforting and he smelled like holiday cinnamon whiskey and pine. (Which my dear, as your sassy narrator I think sounds/smells like an Old Spice commercial but this is Hell and Alastor has no idea what that brand is)  

And as you both sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Alastor's radio room, surrounded by the faint crackle of static and the soft hum of his radio, you knew that you had found a confidant in the enigmatic Radio Demon – someone who accepted your scars, both seen and unseen, and vowed to stand side to side with you no matter what trials lay ahead.

Maybe that half hearted confession Alastor made had some truth to it and maybe your confession was right around the corner too. 

[kirihoon]

READER WHO CRIES WHEN THEY'RE NOT TAKEN SERIOUSLY like katsuki chuckling at reader getting annoyed/upset at something he did and they cryyy 🥺

This is my first ask! omg, so exciting. I'll try my best.

Bakugou Katsuki laughing at you.

You've had an awful day. In fact, you've been having a lot of awful days lately. You just got a job after years of working your ass off at uni. You were so excited. It's your first job! Your first step into the real world! Yeah, you really set yourself up for disappointment.

Since you were new, no one cared for what you had to say. They would dismiss you or act like you didn't exist. Who cares about your opinion on the project? Who would give a shit about your ideas for improvement? Just go get us some coffee, newbie.

You were heartbroken to say the least. It's been about a month of this and you were running out of optimism. You kept looking for silver linings when they finally turned gray.

As you enter the apartment you share with your boyfriend, you sigh. Taking off your shoes and sitting at the coffee table. You open your laptop and look at the new design for the building that your team was trying to get approved.

Despite the shit you go through, you can't help but love your job. You've always had a passion for architecture and design. You could envision it in your eyes and the endless ideas float in your mind.

"Hey, brat, you seem busy." you don't even notice Katsuki enter the apartment. He stands there in casual clothes with hair slightly wet. He probably showered at the agency.

"Hi, Kats. It's just stuff for work." You try to say nonchalantly but the stress of work was weighing down on you. You haven't told Katsuki any of this because he was so proud of you for getting the job! You can't disappoint him!

"Yeah? Are you okay? You seem down." you sigh and muster up a smile.

"Of course I am, honey." You could see that he definitely does not believe it. He can read you too well. You look at him with pleading eyes and he takes the hint. Dropping the subject.

He sits by you and looks at your laptop, "What's that?"

You know what he's trying to do and you appreciate it. He knows how much you love to talk about what you do, it never fails to put a smile on your face.

"Oh! Let me tell you all about it!" You start talking about the project and there's a sparkle in your eyes as you recount all the ideas you have.

Suddenly, you hear it. Laughing. Katsuki's laughing. Directed at you.

Your heart breaks and you stop talking. Afraid your voice will crack if you do. You're frozen in your spot as your heart races and the world starts to cave in. You have a flashback to your coworkers. All of them laughing at you trying to give your ideas and present your work.

Tears well up in your eyes and your lip quivers. You can't even bother looking at him. Nobody takes you seriously. Not even him.

Were your ideas really that shitty? Shitty enough that even your boyfriend finds it laughable?

You close your laptop and abruptly stand up. You run to the bathroom still clutching your laptop to your chest. You lock it and crouch down to sob some more.

"Y/N! Baby, what's going on? What's the matter?" You hear Katsuki's shaky voice. He's panicking. You know he is. But you sob even more.

Katsuki follows you. Now there's only a door separating you.

"Baby, please, tell me what's going on. Are you hurt?" he starts asking a lot of questions. Questions that you don't have it in you to answer yet.

"Damn it, Y/n! Open the door! Please!" despite your on-going breakdown, you still appreciate Katsuki's patience. You know what he really wants to do is to blast the door away. He's had a lot of growth since you two started dating. Both of you have. You try to calm down as you recall that one of the things that made your relationship as strong as it is today is the promise of communication.

"J-just. Give me.. please, uh give me some time?" you stutter out in between sobs. Meanwhile, Katsuki sighs. There still panic in his eyes and deep worry etched on his face but at least you responded.

"Okay, I'm right out here." he sat down leaning his back against the door. He thinks about what could possible have happened.

After almost a half hour, you emerge. Katsuki is quick to stand and look at you, scanning if there are any physical injuries. He's just about to ask you again if you're okay but he's frozen. His heart aches at the redness of your puffy eyes and tear streaks down your face.

You both stand in silence. Him due to concern meanwhile you due to shame. Shame of your sudden outburst. Shame of your ideas. Shame of your shitty job. and finally, shame that even your boyfriend doesn't seem to think you're capable.

He's a hero for fuck's sake, he saves people for a living. You can't even do your office job right and here you are throwing a tantrum.

You can't help the shakiness of your voice as you finally break the deafening silence. "Do you- do.." you take a moment to try to compose yourself. "Are my ideas really that pathetic?". You look at him as tears reappear in your eyes.

Katsuki looks at you confused, he tilts his head and his eyebrows scrunch. "What?" He's wiping away the tears before he can even think about it. He caresses your cheeks as he steps closer. "What are you saying, baby? What's wrong?"

You look down and lean away from his hands. "You- you laughed. Why?" A million thoughts race in your mind. Did he finally see that you're not competent enough for a hero like him? Is he gonna break up with you? Maybe your coworkers were right about you.

Now, Katsuki's even more confused, trying to recall when he laughed. Finally he recalls the moment right before you stormed off. His gaze softens and he takes your hand in his.

"Honey, no, I wasn't laughing." Your sadness turns into anger at his words. "You're lying! I heard you! You can't gaslight your way out of this. If you have something to say, just say it!" You were shaking at this points. You didn't actually mean it. In fact, you didn't want to hear what he had to say. You weren't sure you could handle it.

"I chuckled." Now it's your turn to look confused. "Yeah, that's the fucking issue, Katsuki."

"No, no, you don't understand. I didn't laugh, i chuckled. Heck, it was even closer to a giggle." You looked at him as if he was talking nonsense. and in your mind, it really didn't make any sense.

"You were so excited, talking about your project. I always love it when you do. You're so damn passionate and determined - it's one of the reasons I liked you in the first place. You were different from the other extras." you can't stop the hint of a smile that appears on your lips which he immediately notices. He visibly relaxes a bit and smirks.

The smirk changes into a smile as he says the following "I was so proud. You were adorable as you work on your dream job. I couldn't help but smile. Apparently not only smile but also chuckle."

"Honey, I wasn't making fun of you. I promise."

Your anger dissipates and your sadness reemerges. Tears stream down your face as you hug Katsuki. You sob while venting about work, and how you feel, the imposter syndrome, just everything. He listens and rocks you back and forth trying to soothe you. He kissed the top of your head. He's never been good with words, so he does what he can do to show that he's here for you. His first instinct was actually to get mad at your coworkers and boss, but he knows now is not the time. His baby needs him. He carries you bridal style to your bedroom as you continue to cry and recount your shitty month. He orders some food and puts on your favorite movie and he hugs and kisses you, offering you a few encouraging words.

Weeks later he tells you to quit your job. He pulled some strings and now you're working on a brand new building. All from scratch. An amazing and high-tech building for the newly formed DynaRiot Agency. You both celebrate and you go to work as soon as you can. After all, DynaMight only settles for the best.

yeah, idk anything abt architecture, im sorry. not proofread. umm, hope you like it! im not rly good with the comfort thing so this is the best i could do haha. weird ending i know.

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(5)

A Lesson in Planning

Robert Fischer x reader

description - the logistics of the dream begin to come together and get finalised by the group. Y/n's heart yearns for Robert more but she feels absent from those around her.

warnings - non-con touching (because she is not awake! UNCONSCIOUS PEOPLE DON'T WANT TEA!), mentions of surgery, mentions of murder.

word count - 2.2k

a/n - Boy you guys are gonna hate Arthur here! this is an important filler chapter for the plot but the real juicy stuff is still to come!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“So now in the first layer of the dream, I can impersonate Browning and suggest concepts to Fischer��s conscious mind. When we get a layer deeper his own projection of Browning should-should feed that back to him.” Eames orated to our group as we sat concepting the plan for the mission.

“So he gives himself the idea?” Arthur questioned.

“Precisely.” Eames continued. “That’s the only way it’ll stick. It has to seem self-generated.”

“Eames.” Arthur leant back in his chair and looked to me and I nodded in agreement. “I am impressed.”

Eames chuckled. “Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated, Arthur, thank you.” I laughed at Eames’ quip, but felt I should cover my face to not embarrass Arthur further.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I sat in the workspace with Ariadne as she worked on her totem.

She’d decided upon a chess piece with a partly hollowed out centre that would always fall a specific way. We’d actually had the idea together when we’d been walking in the park and had come across a group of old men who’d formed a chess club. When Ariadne had picked up the queen, it had felt right in her hand.

I glanced to my watch and commented on the lateness of the time but hadn’t noticed Ariadne had actually left our desk. I must have zoned out. That had been happening a lot recently. My mind went to Robert. It wasn’t always thinking back on our interaction, most of the time it was just imagining him beside me. Living in the moment with fantasies of him living it with me.

I perked up when Dad and Ariadne walked back towards me, Ariadne gestured for me to show my Dad the mazes but I hesitated.

“Each level relates to the part of the subjects subconscious that we are trying to access.” Dad walked past our designs, assessing the skill and intricacy. Ariadne and I loomed over her paper built mazes. “So, I’m making the bottom level a hospital so Fischer will bring his father, -- um you know, actually, I have a question about this layout.” Dad immediately retreated as if the sight burned his eyes.

“No, no, no. Don’t – Don’t show me specifics. Only the dreamer should know the layout.” I winced at Dad’s harsh tone.

“Dad, she just wanted some help.” I looked up at him.

“Just – “ He pointed at me in a fierce tone but doubted his words. His tone smoothed out. “Just no specifics.”

“Why is that important?” She questioned, amid our staring contest.

“In case one of us brings our projections in. We don’t want them knowing the details of the maze.” Dad feebly explained.

“You mean in case you bring Mom in?” I spat at him. The room went quiet, the tension was thick. “You can’t keep her out, can you? Right. If you know the maze then she knows it. That’s why you can’t build anymore.” I stalked towards him amidst my lecture.

“Cobb is this getting worse?” I appreciated Ariadne’s concern. She had been whisked in to this operation only to find out the leader’s brain was more fucked up than most. Who wants to share dreams with that. “Because the others need to know if it is?”

“Who said it’s getting worse!” He abruptly ended so we knew the conversation was done. There was a lull. “I need to get her home.” He pointed at me. “That’s all I care about right now. Is her.” He stood up and embraced me. My guilt weighed me down. He’d only ever thought of me, and my thoughts were filled with someone else. How selfish could I be.

“Why can’t you go home?” Ariadne fiercely inquired.

“Because they think I killed her.” Cobb said into my hair whilst we stayed hugging. I squeezed tighter at that answer. Ariadne stayed quiet as Cobb left my arms to walk away. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not asking whether I did.” He smiled appreciatively.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“I will split up my father’s empire.” The word emblazoned on our whiteboard. “Now, this is obviously an idea that Robert himself would choose to reject which is why we need to plant it deep in his subconscious. The subconscious is motivated by emotion, right? Not reason. We need to find a way to translate this into an emotional concept.” Dad addressed us.

“How do you translate a business strategy into an emotion?” Arthur questioned.

“That’s what were here to figure out. Now, Robert’s relationship with his father is stressed to say the least.”

“Well, can we run with that?” Eames perked up. “We could suggest breaking up his father’s company as a ‘screw you’ to the old man.”

“No.” I commented. “Positive emotion trumps negative emotion every time. We yearn for reconciliation, catharsis. His bond with his dad is broken beyond repair. Maybe if we’re gonna be in there anyway, we could do him a little good.” When I trailed off softly, I felt all eyes on me, confused. I especially felt the hot gaze of my father.

“We need Robert Fischer to have a positive emotional reaction to all this.” Dad agreed whilst eyeing me suspiciously.

“All right, let’s try this.” Eames jumped to my rescue. “My father accepts that I want to create for myself, not follow in his footsteps.”

“That might work.”

“Might?” Arthur argued. “We’re gonna need to do a little better than might.” Eames turned towards him with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, thank you for your contribution, Arthur.” He said sarcastically.

“Forgive me for wanting a little specificity, Eames.”

“Specificity?”

“Inception’s not about being specific. When we get inside his mind, we’re gonna have to work with what we find.”

Ariadne had already prepped each of the dreamers with the layout of the maze. I was truly impressed, and I spent every minute telling her that. It was so great to have a girl on the team. I often felt I was drowning in testosterone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We had entered Yusuf’s dream which would act as the first layer. Ariadne had created a metropolitan city with towering skyscrapers. It was perfect. Complex and confusing if you were not familiar yet still had a sense of believability.

“On the top level,” Eames narrated to us all, as we stood in the direct centre of the road. “We open up his relationship with his father, and say ‘I will not follow in my father’s footsteps.”

I walked around in awe of the world around me. I’d been in many dreams and had created a few for myself, but nothing like this. I bumped Ariadne’s shoulder and whispered.

“This is seriously amazing.”

“you’ve told me that like 5 times, y/n.”

“Oh sorry—”

“No, it’s nice.” She threw her arm around me so we ended in a half way hug. I suddenly remembered the boys were talking.

“Then the next level down, we feed him ‘I will create something for myself’. Then by the time we bring out the big guns – “

“My father doesn’t want me to be him.” I finished. After speaking those fateful words I chanced a glance at my own father’s eyes. But I looked away in shame, missing his own longing gaze.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Three layers down the dreams are gonna collapse.” Arthur admitted. “Even with the slightest disturbance.”

“Sedation.” Yusuf proudly stated. “For sleep stable enough to create three layers of dreaming, we’ll have to combine it with an extremely powerful sedative. The compound we’ll be using to share the dream creates a very clear connection between dreamers whilst actually accelerating brain function.”

“In other words, it gives us more time on each level.” Dad explained for the ones who struggled to understand Yusuf’s chemistry.

“Brain function in the dream will be about 20 times normal. When you enter a dream within that dream, the effect is compounded, it’s 3 dreams – that’s 10 hours times –”

“I’m sorry maths was never my strong subject.” I chuckled at Eames’ confusion. “How much time is that?”

I decided to fill him in.

“It’s a week, the first level down, 6 months the second level down –”

“Its 10 years, the third level.” Ariadne said in a gasp. I nodded sadly towards her. “Who would want to be stuck in a dream for 10 years?”

“Depends on the dream.” Ariadne and I looked unamused towards Yusuf’s attempt at humour.

“So, once we’ve made the plant how do we get out? I’m hoping you have something more elegant in mind than shooting me in the head.” Arthur commented whilst swinging on his chair.

“A kick.”

“What’s a kick?”

“This Ariadne,” Eames gently tapped Arthur’s chair so he panicked and fell forward. “Is a kick.” He smiled innocently towards Arthurs unimpressed face. I giggled watching their little bromance.

“It’s that feeling of falling you get that jolts you awake.”

“Will we even feel a kick with that level of sedation?” I questioned.

“I’ve customised the sedative to leave inner function unimpaired.” I gave a grateful nod. Yusuf was truly a gift to this mission. “Let me demonstrate.”

“Arthur.” “Arthur!” Eames and I said in sync.

Arthur reluctantly rises and sits on the chair Yusuf gestures to. Yusuf puts him into a dream.

“You see the sleeper still feels the falling.” Yusuf tips Arthur and he jolts awake just in time to watch his body hit the ground. Eames and I burst out laughing. I wink at Eames as we both get the same idea.

“But Yusuf.” I begin. “He just fell sideways. I think it needs to be demonstrated that it works falling at ALL angles.” Eames and I could barely hold in our laughter as my dad shook his head in disapproval. Arthur was put under 4 more times and shoved off the chair each time. God this was too good. After the final time, he threw his hands up when Yusuf went in for one more IV. He abruptly stood up and walked past me. He slowed down when he reached my shoulder.

“Don’t be so childish.” My smile broke.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“He hasn’t got any surgery scheduled, there’s no dental, nothing.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to have a knee operation?”

“Nothing. Nothing that they’d put him under for anyway.”

We were coming up with the final stage. And the most important element. Time.

“We need a good 10 hours.” My dad offered up the situation to the room.

“Sydney to Los Angeles.” Saito had very much taken up the role of the silent money. Quiet, observing. Merely here to protect his investment. When dad had told me he wanted to go under with us I wasn’t shocked. Inception is hardly a mission which has a physical outcome a buyer can hold. The only way to get proof is to be there with us. I did worry about safety. He was just another parasite the projections could flock to; this put us all at risk. And I had a feeling this sedation meant a simple kill shot wouldn’t suffice.

“One of the longest flights in the world. He makes it every two weeks.”

“He must be flying private then?” Dad questioned.

“Not if there were unexpected maintenance with his plane.” I smirked at this.

“It would have to be a 747.” Arthur jumped in.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Because on a 747, the pilot is up top,” I didn’t miss how Arthur directed the answer towards my dad. “and the first class cabin is on the nose, so no one would walkthrough but you’d have to buy out the entire cabin and the first class flight attendant.”

“I bought the airline.” We all flocked our gaze to Saito. “It seemed neater.” Ah of course! Why didn’t we think of that?

“Well then.” We had our stage. “Ariadne?” Dad stopped us as we went to leave. “Terrific work by the way.” I smiled her way but she missed it, taken up in a conversation with Arthur.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

My fingers fidgeted on the lock of the case. Itching to try again. Nothing around me was satisfying, I needed some release. The lock flicked up and I hurriedly unpacked the IV. I inserted it and let it do it’s magic. My eyes drooped, my heart slowed yet my excitement bubbled up. My head flopped onto the rough fabric of the deck chair. As my mind floated me away, a presence loomed in my peripheral.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Arthur’s pov*

I’d stayed behind late, hoping to have a word with y/n. She hadn’t seemed herself recently and I worried for the state of her mind when we begin this task.

I made my way to the door, believing I’d missed her. I noticed one of the deck chairs hadn’t been put away so I went to tidy up. I saw five painted nails loosen their grip on the edge of the chair and collapse to the side. There was an IV exiting the vein, I tracked it back towards the silver case.

I ambled my way towards her sleeping frame. So peaceful, yet so much life danced behind her closed eyes. I found myself stroking her soft cheeks. She was so perfect. My thumb caressed the contours of her face and it began to droop lower, until it met the curve of her lips. What was I doing?

I jumped back as if her skin had burnt me. Suddenly I was possessed by a new found drive. I ripped one of the other IV’s out of the case and dragged a chair up to the table. I inserted the tube and let the sedative consume my body.

My mind crumbled down and was rebuilt into her subconscious.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Oh boyyyyy Arthur has gone into her subconscious! What's he gonna find? What's she hiding??

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away

[markantonys]

Ok I just need to come here and say: got costumes were not that great. They were showing off with the embroidery, but it was made purposefully “rustic” which contributed to it looking unprofessional, and made Cersei look like an idiot. The embroidery was very detailed, true, but you couldn’t see it while watching, it just looked like a blob usually.

The colours were dull, and most of the costumes were not well thought through. And also I don’t really think they fit that well? what looked great on Lena, looked very questionable on Sophie, which was not supposed to be happening. I’m not even going to discuss the jewelry.

Wot costumes are much better, are clearly comfortable for actors to be in (remembering Sophie again and how awkward she moves in the dresses sometimes, and like compared to the way Madeleine and Zoe look and move, even though they have spent most of the second season in uncomfortable clothes), show status clearly without the insane classism of got “you are either wealthy and beautiful or literally live in a pigsty” and are weather appropriate. And they embody the “early 90s late 80s fantasy looks” much better than got. So in my book wot is definitely much better.

Sorry I’m the costume rant anon. Wanted to add that a lot of costumes in got and wot have a similar silhouette and the difference in quality is like. Obvious. I know it’s subjective but like. I think we have been gaslit that got costumes are THAT good

iiiinteresting! i only know GOT costumes from seeing them around social media, so i can't weigh in here since i haven't seen them in context while actually watching an episode, so it is interesting to get a perspective from someone who's watched both shows! (and who knows stuff about costumes and how to judge quality - i don't at all haha i just go "oh that looks pretty, i like it!")

but i definitely agree that WOT costumes look generally pretty comfortable in the sense that i buy real people would actually wear these clothes day-to-day (i mean, except for statement pieces like lanfear's TAR dominatrix outfit or siuan's ceremonial attire). one that jumps to mind right away is one of alanna's s2 outfits - super pretty, but also looks quite cozy for just a normal day at the tower teaching novices!

and that's a really great point about how status comes across in WOT costumes. here, we can obviously tell that moiraine is upper class and egwene is a humble villager, but egwene's outfit is still pretty and well-made and colorful and clean, just simpler fabric & style than moiraine's (and she gets to wear jewelry too despite being a humble villager, just simpler jewelry than moiraine. and her skirt is a cute plaid pattern and she has a nice dash of simple, handmade-looking embroidery on her top - perhaps she added that embroidery herself to jazz up her Best Feastday Shirt!)

[plague-of-insomnia]

Six Sentence Sunday: New AU Snippet

So this is quite a lot longer than 6 sentences, but since I haven’t posted any snippets of anything in a few weeks I thought I’d go ahead and share this.

This is for the sebard AU I’m hoping to write for the holiday season, with Firefighter Bard and Priest Sebastian.

Just my favorite recipe of two broken people coming together to heal, with the added kinkiness of one being a Catholic priest, bc priest Seb is always hot, right?

Keep in mind this project is in the early stages so things are subject to change by the time it’s ready on AO3.

The witching hour, and as usual, Father Sebastian couldn’t sleep. So instead of lying in bed staring at the same cracks in the rectory ceiling for hours, he was in the sanctuary, cleaning and tiding up.

It wasn’t necessary, of course. The widow who helped him manage the church also took care of the maintenance, since he didn’t need her to cook. But idleness, Devil’s invite or not, had never suited Sebastian.

He gathered up the box of candles and went and replaced all of the plain ones around the altar before moving on to the prayer candles, some of which still glowed from the parishioners who’d lit them the day before.

Out of habit, once he’d replaced any that had burned away to a pile of wax, he lit one of his own, murmuring an “Our Father” in rapid Spanish before doing the sign of the cross.

He didn’t have anyone specific in mind when he did this ritual, and sometimes wondered if he lit the candle for himself. It was pathetic that a priest felt he needed a light to guide him to God’s help, and yet here he was. Again.

He sighed and gathered up the cleaning and other supplies to carry back to the sacristy to store them away until tomorrow night, when he’d likely repeat his vigil again.

Despite having to rise early for morning mass each day, sleep often eluded him, and he had become so used to making do on only a handful of hours of rest each day that it had become normal.

After all, the fatigue weighing heavily on his shoulders was a pleasant distraction from the emptiness within him he had tried and failed to fill with God.

He had just re-emerged from the sacristy when he heard the creak of the large wooden doors at the front of the church, which led into the narthex, just before the main worship hall, or nave.

Sebastian hadn’t yet locked up completely; it was rare for anyone to wander in so late, especially since his church was located in a quiet, peaceful residential area. And yet, despite this, Sebastian had felt it wrong for him to be awake and not keep the doors open for anyone who might seek shelter or guidance in the wee hours.

The man who entered was blond, broad and muscled, hands jammed into his pockets, wandering in as if he were lost. And perhaps he was, in more ways than one.

Striding closer, Sebastian greeted him. “Welcome, my son,” he said. “May I help you?” his voice echoed in the large, empty space, magnifying the lilt of his British accent, a corruption of the public school manor of speaking he’d picked up as a child, mangled with his mother’s Spanish flavor and years of living in Texas.

The man seemed startled, glancing around and blinking as if waking from a dream. He cleared his throat. But didn’t answer.

Now, Sebastian recognized him. Bardroy Simms. Though it had been more than five years, this man had been a part of his congregation, faithfully coming to 9AM mass every single Sunday with his wife and son, excepting the days he was on duty at the fire station.

Sebastian hadn’t been assigned here long enough to marry the man and his wife, but he had baptized their son, and given him his first reconciliation and communion, the first steps for any Catholic on their way to being a full member of the faith.

. . . And he had also given them last rites in the hospital, before the hard decision to end life support was made.

And, of course, he had presided over their funerals.

Sebastian still remembered the heat of that day, the hot sun burning into his black cassock. How Bard had stared blankly without shedding a single tear as his wife and son were laid to rest.

Until today, Sebastian had never seen the man again once the dirt was shoveled and the mourners had left. He had tried to reach out, but what could a priest who had never married—let alone had children of his own—know about the grief that man was enduring?

Sebastian’s job was supposed to be the people’s connection to God, to counsel and to guide when they needed him most, and he had failed Bard.

Bard didn’t sink into a pew, simply stopped halfway to the altar, to Sebastian. Now that he could see him better, his face was unshaven, golden stubble catching the light from the candles, dark bags beneath his eyes, his short hair disheveled.

He scratched his cheek absently, swallowed thickly, before saying, “Saw the lights were still on. Figured this’s better than falling into a bottle again.”

Sebastian inhaled sharply, took a few steps closer. “Why don’t I make you some tea and we can talk. I’m a good listener.”

The man seemed confused but simply nodded. “Thank you, Father.”

Sebastian wanted to say he was only doing his duty, helping a parishioner in need, but that wasn’t the truth. Not really. It was selfish and prideful and he’d need to do penance for it later, but the reality was he wanted to make up for his past failings.

His shoes clicked and echoed as he walked toward the front doors.

Sebastian had an idea why Bard was here suddenly after so many years’ absence. He had read about the recent apartment fire that had killed half a dozen people, including a boy of around seven. His photo and family had been all over the news.

Bard was a hero who had saved many lives that day, but Sebastian knew the boy’s death had to be haunting him. He even looked a little like the son he’d lost all those years ago.

Securing all the locks on the main door, he did a quick sign of the cross, kissing his fingers before turning back to face the altar.

Bard stood, staring up at the large crucifix that hung on the wall beneath the stained glass as if hoping for divine revelation. Or perhaps a bolt from the blue to put him out of his misery.

That was certainly a feeling Sebastian could relate to.

[rachelsfav-queer]

How would mommy Enid and daddy Yoko handle Wednesday getting overstimulated and having a complete meltdown? Poor thing is totally inconsolable :'(

Whew. Okay, this one is obviously very important to me, as I’ve said in a previous post. But, I didn’t really explain why so, let me do that now. Btw, this whole thing is gonna be a long one, so either strap in or hop out.

So, first off, I’m reading this ask as if Wednesday is autistic, along with the typical headcanon of her being a little that’s been present lately for VampRavenWolf. So, I’ll be basing it on my experience with autistic meltdowns, which for the most part has been extremely traumatic. I won’t get into any specific details about my experience for privacy reasons and I also don’t want to trigger myself by forcing myself to remember it all.

As for my story, there was a point in my life where I was in an extremely toxic environment that almost constantly produced meltdowns for me. Now, meltdowns are already a very traumatic experience for autistic people, but it was made 10x worse for me by the fact that I was surrounded by people who were only aiming to make it worse for me, hoping that I would eventually self-destruct, in whatever way that meant. They genuinely didn’t care how it happened, just as long as they could get rid of me. That is my story, it’s a very shortened and simplified version of it, with a whole lot of missing context, but it’s my story nonetheless.

I want to say that I still appreciate this ask. Because it gives me an opportunity to share my experience in hopes that by doing so, I can help at least someone. Let them know that they’re not alone like I thought I was for most of my life. That is how I heal the trauma that was dealt to me.

So, with that out of the way, let’s get to the actual ask!

TRIGGER WARNING: Descriptions of sensory overload and meltdown as experienced by an autistic character, light descriptions of self-harm in the form of harmful stimming, and descriptions of panic attacks. All below the cut.

So, for this scenario, I’m gonna set it in VampRavenWolf’s home. It’s already gonna be hard for our poor little raven, I don’t want to subject her to dealing with it in public. Secondly, we’re gonna say that something happens with one of the smoke detectors, some sort of malfunction that causes it to go off for no reason. This will be what causes everything to go down. Alright, this is everyone’s last chance, if anything in the warning above is triggering to you, PLEASE leave now and do not read. Remember, you are not forced to read this if any of the trigger warnings make you uncomfortable. Please, take care of yourselves.

Alright, we all good? Great.

The day already wasn’t going great. Wednesday had just gotten home from school half an hour ago, and her classmates all day had apparently made it their mission to annoy her. Not even Bianca was able to ward off everyone all day, considering she only shared half of her classes with the raven. And of course, both her girlfriends were either out dealing with work or handling family issues, of which they’d only gotten home from a few minutes before Wednesday did, only to have to retreat to their respective offices to finish even more work.

Spending so much time away from her Mommy and Daddy was always the most exhausting thing in the world for Wednesday and although she understood that they couldn’t just spend every second of every day right by her side, the fact still upset her greatly.

At the moment, Wednesday is sitting in the living room, watching TV with Raven on her lap, though she’s not paying very close attention (Raven isn’t either). The absence of her Mommy and Daddy weighs heavy on her mind, only made worse by the day she’s had. Wednesday’s just about to get up to find her Mommy in hopes that she’ll give her the attention that she so desperately needs when suddenly, the smoke alarm in the kitchen goes off. The loud, piercing noise sends Wednesday falling off the couch as her hands fly up to cover her ears. It takes a few seconds for her mind to catch up with her body, but when it does, Wednesday begins crying violently, coughing wildly and her breathing quickly becomes unsteady, short and with no rhythm.

Meanwhile, Enid and Yoko are alerted immediately by the noise and rush out to check everything out. Seeing no signs of a fire, they determine the alarm is just malfunctioning and pull it off the wall, taking out the batteries and silencing the screaming noise. Once the alarm is off, though, the quiet exposes the sound of their baby sobbing in the living room and once again the women are rushing to the sound. Their hearts break at the sight of Wednesday curled up on the floor with her hands clutching her head tightly. Enid walks forward first, lowering herself as slowly as possible, and speaks gently, “Hey, little raven. It’s Mommy. Can I come closer?”

The muffled sound of her Mommy’s voice catches the raven’s attention and she gravitates towards it, opening her eyes slightly and choking out, “L- loud, Mommy! Too loud!” Still overwhelmed by the stimulation, Wednesday’s brain is in desperate need of regulation and so instinctually her fists begin slamming into the sides of her head over and over and over and over and-

Thinking quickly, Enid gently pulls the seer's arms by her wrists and wraps them around her torso, allowing the girl to pound her fists into the wolf’s back, “Okay, okay baby. That’s it, let it out on Mommy. She can take it, you’re okay.” Enid continues to mutter reassurances over and over again while Yoko leaves for a moment to grab Wednesday’s noise-canceling headphones, returning the moment she finds them and carefully sets them on the raven’s ears.

Meanwhile, Wednesday’s sobbing only gets worse, her breathing getting shallower and her body getting weaker. Yoko and Enid are starting to get seriously worried, they look at each other with fear in their eyes and Yoko asks weakly, “What do we do?”

Enid looks back down at the girl in her arms, desperately trying to think of anything to bring their girlfriend out of this meltdown safely. Suddenly, she gets an idea. “We need to help her regulate herself. Here,” Enid breathes, offering the girl to Yoko, “Hold her, she prefers cold. I’ll go turn down the A/C and grab her weighted blanket. I’ll be right back.” While Enid does that, Yoko gets an idea of her own. She first shuffles back to lean against the couch, then, staying careful not to jostle the raven, Yoko does her best to unbutton as much of her shirt as she can and lays Wednesday’s head onto her exposed chest. Almost immediately, Wednesday’s breathing begins to slow, as do her tears. Yoko continues to whisper gentle words of praise and reassurance until Enid gets back. The werewolf covers the two with the black blanket and gets yet another idea. Stepping away from her girlfriends, Enid transforms into her wolf form and then lays her head gently against the seer’s back.

And with the combined weight of the blanket and the werewolf plus the chill of the vampire and the A/C blowing down on them all, Wednesday slowly starts coming back to herself. Eventually, her breathing is even again, and a few sniffles here and there are the only signs that she’d been crying. Petting her hair, Yoko speaks, “Hey there, baby bird. You back with us?”

Wednesday nods slowly, “Yes Daddy. Feel better.”

At the sound of her baby’s voice, Enid lifts her head and gently nudges Wednesday’s cheek with her snout, chuffing softly which makes the goth smile tiredly. Which in turn pleases her Mommy and Daddy, knowing their girl really was back with them.

“Get some sleep, baby bird. We’ll be right here for you. We have you always.”

End <3

[snailchasers-den]

How does starclan reacts to Spottedleaf's lies?

Super sorry for answering this so late, I've been super busy LMAO I try to answer asks as quickly as I can, so thank you for being so patient!

This will contain some spoilers for my fic, even if I might tweak some things before then, so know this is subject to some possible changes! It'll also contain some mild horror and themes of being watched, so fair warning!

It's nothing big at first, for a while she actually flies comfortably under the radar, the problem only really starts getting recognized by Starclan once they tell the clan the false prophecy, uncomfortably close to before whenever Spotted receives the 'Fire will save our clan' one, and gets worse once Yellowfang gets there and starts working alongside her. A lot of the plan hindered on the only other medicine cat around being her and her apprentice, so Yellowfang appearing threw a massive wrench in things. Yellowfang does agree not to reveal the fact she's faking her and Tigerclaw's prophecy, but can't promise she'll be able to keep her safe from everything that may come her way because of it.

She starts to avoid the night sky after that, doing her best to only go out during the day, or when the stars are hidden by clouds. But that doesn't always help her when she starts to feel watched near constantly. She's not exactly sure if it's a manifestation of guilt or Starclan themselves, at the time, but she starts to have dreams if not hallucinations of silent starclan cats, just... Watching as she tries to gather herbs. It's extremely rare for Starclan to decend from the sky, much less for no good reason. They don't tell you how dead and lightless an otherwise glittering Starclan cat's eyes can look when they stare at you so blankly. Nothing proves they're no longer alive more than that.

Yellowfang tries to comfort her through the days, but she out of anybody can tell it's starting to weigh on her- She does her best to make her feel a bit more secure, but having another cat with Starclan's gifts so nearby only makes things more unsettling.

Starclan is very different in this AU, being a lot more reserved and ominous, much closer to a coalescence of all the spirits of their ancestors that started having their lines between eachother smudged long ago. The clans have this image of ethereal starry passed family members who watch over them and keep them safe, but if you look deeper, there's something beneath the surface. They don't actively try to stop Spottedleaf, since this is likely a new type of crime, faking a prophecy not for power, but for something as simple and small as love, so instead they just judge. They know she knows they're watching her, and they plan to keep doing it until she dies, even if she tries to shut Starclan out of her mind later.

She does start trying to shut out Starclan once she realizes she's pregnant with Tigerclaw's kit. She knows the clan will see them as something special due to the prophecy that allowed them to be born 'within the code', and she doesn't need twice the stress with Starclan still lingering around her during the whole thing. Unfortunately, with her having such a strong connection with Starclan, and Tigerclaw having his own ties to it for wildly different reasons, their son ends up having a much, much higher connection than a majority of medicine cats do, even from a young age. Spotted isn't sure whether they passed it down to him, or if Starclan felt a bit sadistic and decided to play along for now, but for a while, the starry figures that stalk her through the forest seem to dissipate. She can't tell why, though, but she can feel in her bones that they'll be back for her.

Tigerclaw doesn't have a direct link with Starclan, but he does actually get his own glimpses of them, though his seem to be more based in malice. They've obviously never been too fond of him, and since Pinestar refused to kill him as a kit, they've let that demand go, but a lingering distaste for him never faded. He's been plagued with nightmares his entire life, but something about the ones he started getting once Starclan discovered their lie seemed to be less copy-paste with a few adjustments, and more personal. Deeper cutting and more unnerving. Ones he couldn't shake even with Spottedleaf at his side every night.

[daily-twice-content]

[MAGAZINE - NME]

TWICE’s Tzuyu on cold feet before solo debut: “I wondered whether I could really pull this off”

Full article click here in order to read it

There’s been a lot weighing on Chou Tzuyu’s mind. While the TWICE singer, who’s also the youngest member, is a seasoned pro with her bandmates, the thought of stepping out of her comfort zone has her a tad more flustered than usual. “When it was first decided [that I would go solo], I started to feel the nerves, wondering if I could do a good job, you know,” Tzuyu tells NME over a video call in late-August, just weeks before the release of her first mini-album, ‘abouTZU’. Immediately, pressure settled in, and before the process was through, she had lost more than a little sleep.

That’s how, in discussing the mini-album, this chat turns to the subject of dreams. “Like the dreams in my sleep?” she asks an off-screen interpreter. Neat strands of auburn hair fall to either side of Tzuyu’s face while a finger props her chin up in contemplation. “There was actually one dream I had recently that really stuck with me,” she replies, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “It’s… a little scary.” Honestly, it was closer to a nightmare: “I was standing high up somewhere when this woman fell to the ground,” she says, right hand slipping out of frame like an object in freefall. “There was so much blood. It was really scary!”

In more ways than one, then, fear is an emotion she got to know intimately in recent months. “There were a lot of moments where I wondered whether I could really pull this off,” Tzuyu says, circling back to the beginnings of ‘abouTZU’. It wasn’t just a question of music. An album cycle in the K-pop industry will run newcomers and veterans alike off their feet – even the biggest of personalities find all the broadcast shows and interviews intimidating. “It’s always taken me a while to warm up to people,” she adds. “I’m still pretty reserved. I was pretty reserved when I first debuted, too.”

Since preparations for ‘abouTZU’ began earlier this year, Tzuyu had some time to think about how she was going to get her ideas across. “Expressing my thoughts… It hasn’t been very easy,” she says. In addition to the Taiwanese singer’s introverted leanings, living in Korea for over a decade has meant contending with a constant language barrier. This difficulty has lessened along with time and concerted effort: “Preparing my solo album was a great opportunity to work on that a little more. I can tell that I definitely feel more comfortable now than I did before starting the process.”

If there’s a new fire in her gaze, that’s calculated – “I took care to focus on my facial expressions, especially playing up the intensity in my eyes,” she says – as is everything else that sets her apart from the past. A teaser for the album fixes on her face and lithe frame, loosed arrows flipping her hair back like a modern Artemis. “This time around, I wanted to show a different kind of charm, really taking a step to show the side of me that is cool and confident, mature, and sexy,” she says, winkingly.

That confidence led her to take an interest in the music’s creative process, as well. The creation of ‘abouTZU’ wasn’t her first brush with songwriting – TWICE’s heartfelt ballad ‘21:29’, written as a team after the completion of a 2019 concert in the Philippines, holds that honour – but it was the first time Tzuyu took the process on solo. “For previous tracks, I was really engaging with the other members to write the song together,” she explains. “This time, it was pretty tough to go through that process of writing alone.”

“I can’t say things flowed easily from start to finish,” Tzuyu adds. “I got stuck plenty of times.” It helped for the native Mandarin speaker to imagine the song as a diary entry, private thoughts that only had to make sense to her. Once she heard the backing track, a picture started to play in her mind; eventually, she would jot down corresponding phrases in Korean and English. “It was a real challenge, putting the stories I wanted to tell, the feelings I wanted to convey into words,” she says. “It didn’t come as naturally as I’d hoped, but I took my time to work through each line, looking up any words I found more difficult.”

(...)

Full article click here in order to read it

[cowboydisaster]

So… hi yall. Wanted to do a little post to check in and explain myself. The past 24 hours I have received many anons/messages asking if I deleted my posts and ao3. Short answer… yes. Yesterday I had what can only be described as an absolute mental breakdown. I hit my breaking point and I hit it hard. So amidst a full on hyperventilating panic attack I clicked a few buttons and poof- it was all gone. I'm sorry for not responding about this until now, but I wanted to wait until I was in a better state of mind to answer your questions and make some decisions. So I will explain some more and then do a Q&A from my inbox. 

I struggle a lot with mental health as is, I have frequent ups and downs, and writing and being a part of this fandom seemed to help a lot. I genuinely loved writing and finding you all. I've made some great friends and shared some great stories. But I found myself getting too immersed in my blog and in rdr2. It was unhealthy, and the more I leaned into it the worse I started to do in other aspects of my life. It started to stress me out. And although I loved writing and posting and interacting, I started recognizing more and more that my obsession was absolutely unhealthy. 

(I also want to add that I am strictly talking about my own experiences here. This was unhealthy for me. But I'm not suggesting that it's bad for everyone)

So yesterday happened to be the unfortunate day that the straw broke the camel's back… I snapped and it's gone. But don't worry, i'm not just abandoning everything, here's some answers to FAQs from my inbox today: 

Q: Did you delete ao3? Will we be able to read your fics again?? 

A: Yes, I deleted my ao3, including all of my fics. But they are saved in my Google drive. So I'm in the process of making a new ao3 account, reposting the fics you guys want and then orphaning the account. This way you guys will still have access to all my fics, but I won't be tasked with keeping up with the account. If there is a fic of mine that you would like me to upload to the new ao3 (or multiple) just submit it into my inbox and I will add it. Any fics that are not submitted into my inbox won't be posted to the ao3. You can remain anonymous if you like. A list of my fics and their summaries is provided at the bottom of this post.

Q: Are you okay? 

A: Genuinely? No. I've been trying not to lie about my feelings as of late, which is damn hard for me. I don't like talking about these things, but bottling it up sure as shit hasn't helped either. I'm not okay, but that's normal, and it's okay to not be okay. I'll be alright, I always am. Just gotta get things straightened out. 

Q: what about tfiye??

A: Oh my sweet series. This one has been weighing on my heart. I have it planned out really far and I don't think I have the heart to abandon it. As of right now, I will keep writing it and posting it to the new ao3 (once the acc has been approved and activated by ao3). I won't be posting every week like I was, but I plan on being pretty consistent with it. 

Conclusion: submit the fics you want to keep into my inbox, watch this account in about a week i'll post a link to the ao3. Again, I'm so sorry about this, loves. This information is subject to change, everything is fluid and constantly changing but for now this is the plan. Lastly, I beg you to be kind. I'm struggling and made a decision in a moment where I wasn't capable of reasoning with myself. I do not regret what i did, but I wasn't in a good frame of mind

 So please be kind, and remember i'm human too. Love you all.

Signing off- Bea

List of fics: just the more recent ones, and not including my series which is mentioned above

[  ] Aesthete: arthur x fem!reader (Arthur has a lack of inspiration and you offer yourself as a blank canvas, [nsfw])

[  ] Sleepless nights: Dutch x fem reader (Dutch helps you warm up in Colter + jealous Arthur snippet at the end [nsfw])

[  ] Princess: Dutch x fem reader (Dutch gives you the princess treatment after a rough day, modern au [nsfw])

[  ] On watch: Arthur x fem reader (Arthur is on watch and you attempt to distract him from his shift [nsfw])

[  ] Hush: arthur x fem reader (Arthur tries to keep you quiet [nsfw])

[  ] Crimson: Arthur x fem reader (Arthur helps you when your time of the month strikes at an unfortunate hour)

*if there are fics not mentioned here that you want to see, go ahead and submit them too, the name or a description of what happened in the fic will do just fine*

[sparring-spirals]

Hi spar! I just wanted to say I really enjoy your metas and character analysis. You always seem to have a great grasp of the characters and narrative and emotional beats that I find super helpful!

I was wondering what you think Imogen’s mindset might be going forward as Laudna slowly recovers and has to deal with her trauma and Imogen tries to meet her where she’s at and support her. Do you think her conversations with Delilah are weighing on her more now that she’s seen some of the things Delilah put Laudna through (not just her violent death but also how much she took from her in terms of her happier memories of her home etc)? Do you feel like Imogen will internalise this or that it will unwittingly come out as Laudna’s trauma response is further explored?

Firstly- thank you very much! :'''D What a lovely compliment, I really appreciate it :) I'm a real sucker for emotional beats and character dives and narratives that get influenced by these things, and I'm thrilled other people also get mileage out of my metas about these subjects. Secondly, this answer is late, and I'm very sorry. But its here now!

TL;DR: Oh yeah totes. Absolutely. Yes on all fronts. Its gonna be wild. :'D

I think that the entire experience absolutely puts a lot of things into a new light. About Laudna, about her shaded past, about each time she trailed off mid sentence because of Delilah. And I don't think it's that Imogen didn't know about any of it before, or didn't treat it with importance, (although the layers of deflection and misdirection between them didn't help). But it's very, very different to have it laid out like it was. In visuals and ghosts and tangible hurt and misery, in faces to names and at the end of it all- Laudna. Tired, and exhausted, and hopeless, in a cage, saying she doesn't think she can do anything. That the choice is all out of her hands. That maybe it always was.

So I think the big takeaway from this revelation will manifest in details of choice and agency, and Imogen with this deep, shattering understanding of how little of it Laudna has had previously. During the res ritual, saying to her: Make your own choice, please, do what you want, and I will support it. But its your choice. Its yours. She was so emphatic about giving Laudna that, desperately wanting her to be happy, wanting her to choose that happiness.

And that mentality, from Imogen, who has spent years clawing for control, her insides and out upended by bigger forces. From Imogen, who has learned the hard way that her best tool, her strongest one, is a weapon- a mind like a spike, like a hammer, in lightning striking down, lies and consequences doled out without hesitation. From Imogen, who very, very recently, has been reminded that the best way (the only way) to keep her loved ones safe has to do with ripping the storm out of her veins and letting it loose.

(What use are all these powers if not for protecting the people she loves? What are these scars, if not a reminder?)

(Evidence?)

... So to answer your last question- yes, and, honestly, yes. I think Imogen will be invested in advocating for Laudna's happiness and Laudna's choices, and be fighting to not push her into anything she doesn't want. Fighting to not let any of her own wants or needs override Laudna's. And I also think this is going to meld beautifully (Subtext: Uh Oh) with the trigger-happy, protective, self sacrificial "ill gladly do damage to myself to do damage to enemies" things Imogen already has going on.

(So. yes to the internalizing, and then some).

But, as we've already seen in this group of powder-kegged playing-hot-potato-with-therapy individuals, this kind of internalizing is not usually a long term solution, especially under duress (Moon's haunted), especially when someone already has a ton of shit going on (Moon's haunted). So its absolutely going to come out, sooner or later, and we are ripe for Interactions, Situations, and Shenanigans in the meantime. Especially if, Laudna, fresh off of "oh god everyone derailed their lives to fix my issue" tries to focus more on Imogen as a result. Wow what a mess. Hell yeah.

(That said, there are so many other people in the Bells that need* to have 1-1 conversations and resolutions and talks with Laudna, so Imogen might have a bit of breathing room right now for putting all focus and attention on her. So I guess, internalize away, my gal.)

*Need is, technically, MY need, but it still counts. Ashton WILL talk to Laudna soon or i will Combust. F.C.G, Fearne, Chetney, Orym...... Give Me The Conversations, CR. Give them to me.

... cannot wait for the next bit of combat though.

[dreamsofalifeold]

((Penny for your thoughts?!))

((I've been thinking a lot about the siege at Waco lately. It started out as me doing some research on cults for a plot/set of characters I have, but then I got more into it, and it's just. Really sad and tragic and messed up. David Karesh was a shitty person and his actions are evil, I have no doubt, but the other people involved were victims who shouldn't have been subjected to the literal torture that the FBI did to them.

I apologize for the heavy subject matter, but it's been weighing on my mind. The FBI fucked up, pardoned themselves, and the people who were there when it happened (and weren't mercilessly gunned down by a bunch of feds with ulterior motives and savior complexes) are stuck living with what happened to them and the constant misconceptions about what went on there.))

[nightowl33art]

Gonna try to use Tumblr a little bit more than I have been. Will start posting art and shit here. Might update my intro post or something. I also intend to use this page as a slightly more personal place than my Twitter. So I might post things like thought trains, random notes, personal messages, and my less mainstream creations, like poetry. Consider this a start. If there's major backlash or regret for this decision, I'll overturn it, but if not, buckle in for my random shit.

(CW for grooming mention below.)

----

If you didn't know, I was groomed a few years ago. My groomer and I spoke from mid 2020 to early 2023, so I knew him for over two years. He was my best friend. Over the span of 2022 he went from a brother, to a lover after I turned 18, to my ex at the end of the year. I didn't realize it was grooming until late last year, and it still affects me to this day.

Clearing tabs, I came across a music video I bonded with him over. It hurts to remember things sometimes. Listening to the song brings joy, but I feel pain remembering the context I've mainly come to associate with it. After all, I haven't really touched that song since him,, til now.

The entire friend group we had at the time was nd. so we took stims and stuff off each other. Created a lot of inside jokes. When we cut off anyone deemed bad for us, he hoped they'd feel upset remembering these jokes and stims. For us, we'd still be able to laugh and not let these things weigh the jokes down.. Now that I'm on the other side, I've recontextualized some things so they don't bother me. But I can't help but remember sometimes. Those are the painful moments. They can bring tears.

I hate how the memory of my groomer sours some things. I wish it didn't feel so unpleasant to recall certain interactions with him. I used to console him all the time, the insecure wreck. Tell him I didn't hate him- that I could never. Fuck man, I defended him, saying he couldn't be a creep! I thought I got myself into that mess! But I'm a grown up now. I'm the age he was when he met me. My eyes have been opened. I hate him now. I despise what he has done. Although I am not permanently ruined, I am burned. Sometimes the scars are still tender.

Ik he occasionally stalks around the socials of those he's kicked away or those he doesn't like. He hate watches and laughs, calling them pathetic and what have you. I'm not exempt from the list. (In the past he and my ex, his partner, stalked my carrd to find the Twitter account I'd freshly made. I know bc his partner came in complaining about something I'd commissioned and rt'd.) I don't doubt they still check in on me every once in a while.

I used to be there with him. We'd ask "where are they now? What stupid things are they up to?" and go look. We'd treat the subjects like personal clowns and take joy in their pain. For someone so worried and traumatized over being a lolcow, he sure enjoyed making others his. (This is not to invalidate his trauma, but it does not justify him.)

Tumblr. I always viewed this place as his turf. I used to enjoy what he posted here. It was in my bookmarks. Now he's blocked. But I don't assume it'll stop him if he wanted to view my page on, say, incognito. Not much I can do to run or keep his eyes away so i have to be okay with that. BECAUSE of that, I don't mind posting about this- about him- on my Tumblr. So, to my groomer, if you're reading this.

Fuck you. YES I hate you and you're gonna have to live with that forever. I assume you don't care anymore what I think, but I retract everything I said when i knew you. I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. Whether or not you intended to hurt me in the way you have, you did, you selfish bitch. I looked to you for safety but you metaphorically dug your nails into my veins while I slept. I only am awake now to see the wounds. I thought you were the coolest motherfucker alive, I idolized you, I fell in love with you, and now I can only look at you in disgust. I'm aware you're likely not out there grooming others. You only have your partner, who you also groomed, younger than me, by your side, happily taken, living with you and your parents. I'd say it's not okay but it has to be because I can't do anything about it. It was your and his choice to end up where you are currently. And frankly I don't care about either of you. I'm sure you're happy together, living your best lives. Just know you're not having a better life than I. I've been out here, LIVING and thriving. You aren't superior to me (though I'm sure you enjoy imagining you are, sitting in your fortress while reading this in a silly voice.) I've got new opportunities, better friends, a healthier everything, and I'm content with my current love life. Rest assured, I have grown from the person I was when we dated. I wasn't in the best place and I regret my nasty moments. I feel bad for what I've done, but I also have to be thankful. If I wasn't in a bad place, if I wasn't just a scared and lost kid, I wouldn't have escaped.

You grew sick of me and kicked me out of everything we had. You were so petty as to give personal info to mutuals in a gc (like COUGH my irl name, seriously?) So petty to delete thousands of messages you sent me. So petty to cry about me being "abusive." You weaponized and demonized my mental illnesses, diagnosed and unknown, to make me look worse. Like actually fuck you for making my alter Carl seem like a dangerous person. Fuck you for saying I physically attacked people when no tf I did not. I, and most of my system, would not begin to dream of striking a person like that. (The ones that do are using fantasy to cope, I should clarify. We are not a violent person.) And certainly not an animal jfc. "So glad you're away from him," they responded. They thought ill of me because of you. You're probably satisfied with that because you believe it all yourself. I know you think everything you did was right, but stuff like borderline blackmailing me is not the way to go fyi. Controlled the narrative to take away what I had. They trust you, they'll instantly take your side, esp because there's two of you, when in reality what you said about me was mostly misunderstanding or spiraling assumptions because you overthink way too much. No reality checks to keep you in place. I can still break it all down point-to-point.

If I think back, it hurts that you assumed I never loved you. That I dated you out of pity. What the fuck man. I loved you to my last breath,, before you killed me.

But if I was not mentally unwell back then, I would likely still be with you. And that's a terribly unpleasant thought. I'd still be terribly dependent on you to regulate my emotions, and you'd be just as dependent on me. Egads. Yikes. Ew.

I'm glad you broke up with me. Thank you. The heartbreak was painful but worth experiencing, considering the alternative. I know you're not part of my life now and I couldn't be more thankful, but if you're still checking on me, there's no point to doing so. I'm not out to hurt you so checking for signs of danger are nullified. I don't think what I do now makes you laugh either. I'd prefer it if you leave me alone now. Lord knows I want you far away from me. I'm glad I never got to meet you in person.

At least you're just distant memories now.

[chokesonspit]

Heyyy could you do something for itadori x reader, who isn't his type and reader insecure about it. (Reader is for example rather short and instead of having a big ass she has a bigger chest)

ITADORI YUUJI X FEM!READER

ᡣ𐭩 tags - fluff, reader is insecure, established relationship, like basically no angst, comfort!! &lt;3

ᡣ𐭩 word count - 1.02k ᡣ𐭩 author's note - first request!! thank you so much! ^^ had to try and stop myself from cringing too hard at my own writing, hope this embarrassment will go away with time. ᡣ𐭩 part 2

Meeting Yuuji has proven itself to be one of the best days of your life. 

The sun cast down onto the empty desks, a warm fuzziness caressed the bodies of the three first year students. The room was drowned in silence, a rare moment of peace in the curse-filled world. That was soon interrupted by a loud slam of the door, and Gojo, once again, with a dramatic entrance. He was being louder than usual, earning a scowl of annoyance from all of them. “We have a new student! Everyone, meet Itadori Yuuji!” He grinned, extending his arms out as Itadori walked into the room. He gestured for him to introduce himself. This instantly piqued the interest of otherwise tired students as Nobara, who was seated next to you, leaned in forward. 

“Uhh, my name is Itadori and I’m into girls like Jennifer Lawrence! Nice to meet you all.”

 It was then when you met eye contact with Itadori, as he grinned back at you and the other students. From that moment on, he would turn out to be a crucial part of your life.

You were lost in thought, the soft chatter fading into a blur as piercing thoughts struck your mind. You could feel your stomach churn, feelings of insecurity weighing your heart down. 

 The sudden touch of Yuuji from behind you dragged you out of your spiraling thoughts. He rested his head on the crook of your neck, tightly embracing you. You turned your head, met with his beaming face. 

“Uh, you okay?” His voice was laced with concern, as he let go and backed up a bit to observe your expressions. “You’ve been spacing out a lot lately, did something happen?” 

You couldn’t help but feel that tenseness in your chest loosen, as you let out a soft smile. You didn’t know how to bring out the subject in any way, so it was better to let it go for now. “I suppose I’m just tired, but it’s nothing to be too worried about.” You shifted in your seat, before deciding to stand up. Yuuji was furrowing his brows, seemingly deep in thought as he stared intensely at you. He could definitely tell it was an excuse. A grin then spread through his features, as he was quick to rest his arms on you. “Why don’t we go do something fun to help you get your mind off things?” The loving and enthusiastic gaze that lit up his face was enough to make your steady heartbeat quicken. “Oh! I remember Gojo telling me about a new coffee shop that opened nearby! They have really good desserts apparently,” he was now holding your hand gently, intertwining his fingers with yours. You both leave the classroom, making your way to the building exit. 

A sweet chime rang as Yuuji opened the door to the coffee shop, the savoring, cozy smells of coffee beans and pastries greeting you. It was relatively empty, only a few people seated on different tables enjoying whatever they had ordered. You also noticed how it was decorated quite nicely, with a soft brown making the wooden floors and a cream color filled the walls, complimented with splashes of vibrant green that flourished from the plants settling on wall shelves and the counters. The scents of the pastries strengthened, making you realize how truly hungry you were. The waiter there welcomed you with a warm smile, gesturing for you both to sit down at a vacant table that had a view of the outside world, the dazzling hue of the blue skies making the scenery wonderful to admire. The menu was placed in front of you, as you took a moment to read what was on there. You flipped throughout the pages, trying to find something that caught your eye. Yuuji would immediately find something, as he, of course, had to draw your attention. “The pancakes look amazing! Look at how fluffy it is!” He pointed at the Soufflé pancakes, decorated in flicks of sugar and coated in thick, drizzling honey. “You’re right, that seems tasty. I’ll take a look at the other food though, there’s a lot of good options.” 

It was quite clear that coming to the coffee shop was mainly for Yuuji, yet you were still enjoying your time as much as he was, his happiness radiating strongly off of him. He was also touching you more than usual, sitting by your side on the cushioned seats so he could pull you in gently to rest on his shoulders, getting you to feed him your Lotus cheesecake despite the fact he had finished his pancakes long ago, and trying to sneak a kiss every so often despite your embarrassment for doing so in public. He would then apologize, but how could he resist? 

The evening has now draped over the once vibrant skies, as both you and Yuuji walk through the breeze, the light, gentle wind slightly tracing your arms. Yuuji was carrying a bag of different pastries, some intended to be given to Megumi, Nobara and possibly Gojo, while others were kept for later. You both were lost in conversation, laughing and talking away at anything and everything. Despite all the fun you’ve had, the growing insecurities were still locked in the back of your mind. With every heart throbbing action Yuuji took, you could only feel as though you didn’t deserve him more. There wasn’t really anything much that was attractive about you or your body. You didn’t even know why he had come to fall in love with someone like you, considering that you were the opposite of his type in women. You would never doubt his love and affection for you, but you recently can’t help but wonder how much better it would be if you were prettier or at least had a livelier personality. 

You then start to realize how quiet it has become, as once again, you were engulfed by these suffocating thoughts. Yuuji slightly winced, hating to see you seem so down. It made his heart ache, and he wished he could just wash out all the negative feelings that made you seem so hurt.

thank you for reading my first fic <3

[thefanficmonster]

Love For The Faceless

Corpse Husband x Youtuber!Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff 

Summary: Y/N is a YouTube gamer who has recently gained a much larger following thanks to the streams she does with her friends. Naturally, considering her faceless and bodiless nature, people are starting to get curious about her. When she finally follows her friend Corpse’s example, a lot more than her hands is revealed.

Requested by anon, you know who you are 😉 Thank you so much for placing a request and hope this fic fulfills the expectations you have for it.

“Hey!“ I greet the lobby as I finally hop into the Discord call after quickly saying ‘hi‘ to my audience.

I’ve been a YouTuber for four years now and I’ve only recently started streaming, encouraged to do so by my best friend Rae. She’s the one who got me in multiplayer games such as Among Us and Phasmophobia which led me to meet her amazing gaming squad that consists of some of the most famous names on the platform. They are all wonderful people and I will forever be in Rae’s debt for introducing me to them. However, becoming friends with Felix, Sean and the rest of the team brought not only a more fulfilled life, but also a small boost in following. Who am I kidding, it wasn’t small. It was overwhelming, terrifying even.

My YouTube channel had a little over a million subscribers at the start of quarantine and now....now it’s closer to three million. Speaking of three million, I’m about to reach it any day now and it’s really hard to believe. I’m a gaming youtuber and I’ve never considered changing my genre despite expecting to not get any attention whatsoever, with all the big names on the platform. I was convinced not even as many as a hundred people would stumble across my videos and now here we are.

My OG subscribers are very supportive of my sudden growth and are defending me when my newer fans ask for a face reveal or whatnot. While we’re on that topic I might have to mention that not even my YouTube friends, and that includes Rae have seen my face. I’ve been faceless and bodiless for the entirety of my time on social media. Some claim I do it to grab more attention or for dramatic effect, but the reason is beyond that. I’m not shallow. Actually, shallow people are the reason I don’t show my face. I’ve never been the prettiest, but my middle school bully thought that I wasn’t lacking self confidence enough. As a result, I ended up with a not so handsome scar on my right cheek that starts from the corner of my mouth and nearly misses my eye. Yeah, it’s a long and pretty noticeable scar that has thankfully become less and less obvious as the years have progressed. Still, it’s not something I’d like to show to my viewers.

Eight ‘hi’s greet me back, each making my smile grow wider. “Sorry I’m late guys. Technical difficulties.” 

“Don’t worry.“ Rae’s voice dominates over the rest, “Corpse still isn’t here so we’re waiting for him.“

I mute myself on the Discord call and take a look at my comments. I’m most flattered by the comments about my voice. Seeing as how they don’t have much to compliment about me other than my content, they make the nicest comments about my voice, personality and humor. Those comments are the ones who warm my heart most. Even when people in my day to day life compliment my appearance I can’t find it in me to believe they are being genuine. I’d like to believe these amazing people are being one hundred percent honest when they tell me they like me for who I am and not for what I might look like.

“Sorry I’m late guys.“ A deep voice causes me to even physically jolt, switching my focus from the comments to the Among Us lobby where my eyes land on the newly materialized black avatar.

“Hi Corpse.“ Rae greets him.

“Hello mister who broke Twitter!“ Sean laughs, provoking the laughter of the rest of the players.

“Yeah, congratulations man. That’s a big deal.“ Felix chimes in.

“Thanks guys, but I think you’re forgetting we’re talking about a picture of my hand.“ Corpse chuckles timidly. I have noticed how shy he gets when someone gives him a compliment - like a snail slowly withdrawing in its shell. I find it adorable.

“That’s what makes it even better!“ I unmute my mic, sending my own congratulations.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Rae begins, waiting for the rest of us to shut our traps, suggesting she has something important to say. “Y/N, do you ever plan on doing a reveal like that? Not a face reveal. Just a body part reveal.“

I have no problem talking about the subject with friends but I get nervous when I’m supposed to discuss it with my fans. Seeing as how everyone, including myself, is streaming right now, I get a bit of a stutter in my speech. “Haven’t thought about it yet. But I guess a body part reveal is harmless.” I cringe immediately after letting the words leave my mouth, “That sounds so weird.”

Rae knows that I’m not too fond of my face, but I haven’t told her about my scar yet. I let almost all people I’ve met online think I’m using my lack of appearance for effect. For the mystery of it all. Mysteries attract people which equals attention. Attention equals views and the domino effect continues.

“Just a suggestion. No pressure.“ Rae adds quickly, knowing full well I get anxious when the subject is brought up in front of cameras. “Let’s get this game started, shall we.”

                                                          * * *

The idea dwells in my mind, sitting on the back burner even after I disconnect from the Discord call. I’m sitting in my gaming chair, which was a gift for my two million milestone, and weighing out the pros and cons of the action Rae suggested I take.

“It’s a picture of your fucking hand, dummy. How bad can it turn out?“ I say out loud, shaking my head at my indecisiveness. “You’ll be fine.”

In a blur, two pictures are already posted on my Instagram. The first one captioned ‘Took a leaf from my friend’s book. Did I do it right @ corpsehusband?’ and the second ‘Thanks, Rae. These are on you.’

Rae’s POV

As I’m watching a movie in my living room, I get a notification from Instagram, informing me that Y/N has posted for the first time in a while.

I scoff, “More like the first time in forever.”

The first thing that comes to my mind is the possibility of her reaching that three million milestone that’s been long time coming. I bring the glass of water that’s sitting on my coffee table to my lips, taking a sip as I tap the notification. The picture I see makes me hurry to put the glass back down so I don’t drop it. Y/N’s hand. Her fingers are covered with several thin rings each. And here I thought Corpse had too many rings, this girl has at least two on every finger! 

Then my eyes land on the second picture she has posted only minutes after the first and my heart drops. I struggle to get the water that’s been sitting in my moth down my esophagus while my mind is struggling with the task to comprehend the picture I’m looking at. 

Another hand is resting on top of Y/N’s. A hand also covered in rings but fewer and larger. The nails are painted black. 

I think I know who it belongs to.

Before I can even finish the thought, I’m dialing Y/N. She picks up after the second ring, sound cheery as ever as she greets me. “Hey Rae!”

“Don’t you ‘Hey Rae’ me!” I practically scream. I hate being kept in the dark about anything ever so this is just driving me mad. On top of all, she’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake. “Is that Corpse in the photo with you?!”

“Ugh....“ the cheeriness to her voice is all but gone now.

I go on with my rant, not giving her the time to reply. Not that she would reply. I bet she doesn’t know what to say. “So he knows where you live?! Or was the picture taken at his place?! He knows what you look like?! You have seen him! He has seen you in real life but me, your best friend, haven’t!!! You are breaking Covid 19 protection laws to take pictures?! Are you fucking serious, Y/N?!”

There’s a long moment of silence which frustrates me even more but I literally have run out of things to yell and the power to be angry. I mean, I still am, I just can’t express it.

“Rae, sweetheart, please calm down. You’re scary when you’re mad.“ This girl has some fucking nerve! She’s on the verge of laughing!

“Listen here you...“ 

“Rae, please stop scaring my girlfriend.“ That oh so distinguishable, oh so familiar voice interrupts me.

I am flabbergasted, for a lack of a better term.

“Now that we’ve got you quiet, I can explain.“ Y/N pics up the conversation, “Corpse and I have been dating for six, almost seven months now. We started dating around Easter after talking for quite some time. We moved in together at the end of September. All thanks to you, Rae. You’re the best.” She pauses to breathe in real quick, “There, all caught up?“

I’m in no less shock than I was before she explained. Actually, I think I might be even more confused now. It all just feels like a fever dream. “Yes...no. I don’t fucking know! I need details, Y/N!”

“Details later.“ Corpse makes his presence known once again, “We’re watching Family Guy right now. Talk to you later.“

“Love you, Rae!“ Y/N calls out before the line goes dead.

My arm goes limp, dropping my phone on the couch next to me. 

“Motherfuckers” I mumble under my breath.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been a week since Rae has stopped talking to both Corpse and me. I know she just needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, the rest of our friends were informed and, as oppose to Rae, were nothing but supportive and overjoyed. I bet Rae feels the same way though. Sean, Dave and the rest of the gang have confirmed that she’s incredibly happy for us and says she noticed a spark between me and him since day one, but she can’t help but be mad at us, and especially me, for not telling her sooner.

“Any regrets?“ I remember Corpse asking me when we hung up on her after dropping the bomb.

“Not being able to see her face when she saw the picture.“ I beam at him, feeling as content as ever.

He laughs, agreeing with me before leaning down to kiss me.

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