#i got snowed into the university to paint this!!!! this painting is full of so much love!!!!!!!!

[transangeliccowboy]

throw your landlord in the deer pit!

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Astonishment widens your gaze when you find your mother sitting on your bed when you go back upstairs. Her hands are twitching in her lap and she makes a beeline to you when she sees you.

“So, how did it go?” she asks, urgency laced in her tone. 

Your brows knit. “It went fine. Why do you even care, mother?”

“Coriolanus will be a good friend to have in the future,” she says, her hands seizing yours for emphasis. 

“A good friend?”

Your mother rolls her eyes. She then tugs you by the hand and takes you to your bed so you can both sit on it. The mattress dips with both your weights.

“Don’t you know, sweetie? How well his tribute did in the last Hunger Games? That Lucy Gray girl-”

“You know I don’t like to watch it,” you underscore, your frown accentuating. You don’t know why anyone would willingly tune in to this butchery and call it entertainment. 

Her hold on your hand grows tighter. “You need to grow up. You’re not a child anymore.”

You tamp down your hurt at her criticism.

She licks her lips and continues, “And it’s not just that. He’s on the fast track to becoming top student at the University, he’s Volumnia Gaul’s apprentice and he’s even got sway with-”

“What does any of it have to do with me, mother?” you interrupt, your well of patience running dry as she keeps singing the young man’s praises. It’s not like you’re not aware of Coriolanus’ accomplishments. He’s ambitious and clever. It was always obvious he’d get far in life. But clearly your mother’s trying to make a point and you’d like for her to stop beating around the bush and just spill it.

“He likes you.”

“I like him too,” you reply with a shrug.

She tilts her head, her interest seeming piqued. “Do you really?”

“Yes, I’m glad we can be friends again.”

“Friends is a good start. Your father and I started as friends…”

You draw your hands back, standing up in shock at her implication. Outrage blooms inside you. This is just like Demetria Plinth. While you’re aware your mother doesn’t approve of your current match, you never thought she’d be so devious.

“I’m engaged, mother.”

She sighs as she stands up too. Disappointment paints her features.

“I know, I know. And William’s a sweet boy but-”

“But what?”

She tilts your chin up. “What kind of future do you think you’ll have with him, hm?”

“One full of happiness and love,” you defend hotly.

She bursts out a chuckle. “Love and happiness do not provide food or shelter. But a match to a promising young man from a great house would-”

You cut her off again, peeved at her repeated ignorance of your wishes, “Like I said, we’re friends, mother, nothing else. I’m getting married in three weeks, whether you and Dad like it or not.”

Her lips clamp shut as she steps back from you. 

“And you have made that exceedingly clear, how little you cared for our opinion…”

“It’s not that, I just wished-”

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “It’s no matter. Just promise me one thing?”²

“What thing?” you ask, suspicion clear in your voice.

“Keep him close,” she says, her eyes softening. “Can you at least do that for us, sweetheart?”

“I’ll try.”

“I’m being serious,” she emphasizes. “After your brother…” Her voice breaks at the mention of her son. Tears start to press behind your eyes at the sight of her grief-stricken expression. “We can’t afford any misstep. Do you understand?”

You don’t have it in you to fight her anymore, not when she’s like this. So you wrap your arms around her, giving her a tight hug. “I understand,” you reply, rubbing her back as she weeps in silence.

Naturally, your own tears follow suit. Whenever your mother cries, it's never too long before you start crying as well.

You may not go as far in your relationship with Coriolanus as your mother wants you to, but you can at least keep him in your life. And based on your encounter this afternoon, it will not be hard. You want him in your life. You missed him. 

You just hope your mother learns to accept that you and Coriolanus will never be more than friends.

God, you despise these events. You peer at your lavish surroundings once again. They certainly didn’t spare any expense, and this includes your father. Every inch of the palatial room screams wealth, from the champagne tower, to the elaborate sculptures and gold accents from floor to ceiling. 

Internally, you wince. This is the kind of futile displays of privilege the Capitol likes to indulge in. A waste of resources when people in the Districts are starving.

You bet if Sejanus were here, he’d feel the same.

Sipping lightly from your glass of posca, you nod along at the man who speaks to you. It’s been almost an hour and he hasn’t realized you haven’t uttered a single word. You wonder if he even cares. Gauis Creed, Festus Creed’s father, is the kind of man who basks in the sound of his own voice more than anyone else’s.

Eventually, you excuse yourself, pretending you’re tired and need to sit.

William follows you as you go find your father’s table. 

You unleash a sigh as you plop down on one of the velvet chairs around the table. An Avox approaches you, plate of appetizers in hand, and offers you one. You refuse with a smile, your heart twisting as you meet their gaze.

William’s hand folds over yours.

“You’re okay, baby?” he asks, concern swimming in his green eyes.

“I’m fine. These things are just so exhausting.”

His thumb sweeps over your knuckles as he smiles at you. “We just need to stay long enough to be polite.”

“I know.”

William suddenly straightens his spine, his attention traveling above your head. You pivot in your seat to see what caught his eye.

Your breath hitches at the sight of Coriolanus. He smoothly walks into the room, locking arms with his cousin Tigris. His stylish crimson fit, a two piece suit with a white rose pinned to his breast pocket, highlights his good looks. His blonde locks are slicked back in that formal way you’ve seen him sport since he came back. He wears it well. It makes him look older, wiser.

He radiates confidence and you don’t miss the looks that trail him as he enters. The young heir of House Snow is making quite an impression.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” William inquires, smoothing the wrinkles in his suit and rearranging his lapels. 

“Yeah, that’s him,” you reply, placing a hand on his arm in reassurance. 

But your fiancé’s eyes don’t stray from Coryo. A frown mars his brow. 

“Who’s the woman with him?”

“That’s Tigris, his cousin.”

Striking blue eyes slam into yours, making your heart skip a beat. You watch as the blonde whispers something to Clemensia Dovecote before weaving his way through the crowd.

“He’s making his way to us,” William says.

Frozen in your seat, you nod dumbly.

He glides in your direction, each of his steps graceful and determined. Not once does Coriolanus’ cobalt gaze strays from yours.

“You came,” you say when he’s in front of you.

He plucks your hand from your lap and drops an ephemeral, soft kiss on it. When he lets go of your hand, the feel of his lips linger, making your flesh tingle. You confine a gasp, your face warming. The move surprises you coming from Coriolanus. He knows etiquette better than anyone else. Doing this in front of your fiancé could be perceived as provocation. 

You’re sure he didn’t mean it that way, being naturally suave and charming, but you wish he’d tone it down tonight to not give William the wrong impression.

“I made a promise to a pretty girl, so I had to,” he rasps, honey dripping in his deep timbre.

Part of you melts. Ten years ago, you’d have done anything for Coryo to notice you, let alone whisper words such as these to you.

You collect yourself, giving a nod as you rise from your seat. 

You beam at his cousin. As always, she looks stunning. Tonight she wears a tight, scarlet dress that compliments her slender frame.

“Tigris, it’s been a while,” you chime.

“Too long,” she replies before hugging you.

You return the gesture. Tigris was always sweet to you. While you never went to school together as she’s three years older than you and Janus, there were many times she’d admonish children who pestered you. You remember wanting to be like her when you were younger, a poised, beautiful Capitol lady that’d make your parents proud.

It was before you realized how vapid most citizens of the Capitol are, that none of them care about anything that matters. Still, Tigris remains one of the kindest people you’ve ever encountered.

“You’ve grown into a gorgeous young woman,” she praises.

Despite you, a sliver of pride flutters inside you at her compliment. 

The reunion is interrupted when your parents arrive.

As you expect, they barely acknowledge William, but they grin from ear to ear when addressing Coriolanus.

“You clean up nicely, young man,” Strabo lauds.

Your mother doles out similar praise, asking him where he got his shirt from.

“Shall we sit?” your dad adds.

“Oh, may we?”

“Don’t be silly. We made sure there’d be room for both of you.”

So that’s who the extra chairs were for. You wondered before. You suppose it makes sense now.

Everyone sits and food is brought to the table. 

The tantalizing spread of meat and vegetables doesn’t entice you despite its artistic arrangement. Still, you dutifully gulp bite after bite, aware people in the districts are starving while you get to enjoy a fancy meal. You shouldn’t waste any of it.

The whole time, you try your best to ignore the way Coriolanus’ arm keeps grazing yours as he talks.

You stay quiet as the Snow cousins and your parents drone on about clothes and other frivolous matters. 

When the conversation begins to veer to more serious topics however, your ears perk.

“...And we’ve been trying to raise the viewership for the next Hunger Games through-”

“Well, maybe if it wasn’t about sponsoring the murder of children, it’d be easier,” William notes, cutting your father off mid-sentence.

Quiet falls over the table. Strabo’s jaw ticks while he glares angrily at your fiancé. Your mother shakes her head and tosses you a look of disapproval.

She doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to hear her thoughts loud and clear. They’re plainly written all over her face.

As for you, pride and love glow inside you as you twine your fingers with William’s. 

Once again, he makes you feel like you’re not the mad one in this mad world.

“What do you think?”

 Coriolanus’s abrupt question has you choking on your spoonful.

You cough and dab your mouth with a napkin, embarrassment swirling in your gut.

Beneath his intense stare, you quickly try to gather your words.

“Me? I…There has to be another way to discourage rebellions, a more humane way. Wouldn’t you agree?”

A tender smile unfurls on his lips. “You’re sweet.”

The symphonic orchestra on stage starts playing music. Some of the guests start joining the dancefloor, waltzing along to the melancholy tune.

Coriolanus suddenly gets to his feet and steals your hand. 

“Do you mind?” he tells William while tugging you out of your chair. 

“I…” your fiancé begins. But Coriolanus drags you to the dancefloor, not waiting for his response.

Too dumbstruck to utter a word yourself, you let him. 

He slips his arm around your waist and sways to the music. You follow his lead, trying to discard how unnerving the proximity is. The faint scent of roses coats your senses, rendering you a bit dizzy. It reminds you of your garden. 

“He speaks like a rebel,” he says.

You stiffen. “He speaks the truth, and he isn’t afraid to do it. It’s what I love about him.”

Coriolanus scrutinizes you, his blank expression impossible to read. You gasp when he spins you. He then pulls your back flush against his broad chest. Your heart hammers wildly  and you find yourself praying he doesn’t hear it. 

His soft whisper fans over your ear. “He’ll get you in trouble.”

“Maybe I like trouble,” you reply.

His deep chuckle ripples along your neck. “Hm, do you, princess?”

Your throat goes dry. You pivot in your heels so you aren’t so close, remembering that William is a few feet away watching.

Your cheeks burn. 

“Coryo,” you mumble, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Yes?”

“You’ve changed, you know.”

“Hm, maybe it’s my hair. I’m trying to grow it out again.”

You shake your head.

“It’s not that. You’re just…a bit different.”

You don’t remember him ever being so bold and…so many other things you can’t place. You simply know that the longer you are in his presence, the longer it feels as if you’ll tumble into an abyss, one you won’t so easily climb your way out of.

He slants his head.

“Good different or bad different?”

You shrug and smile.

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

The gala leaves you rattled, hesitant to speak to Coriolanus for a few days. You know he’s not to blame for your parents’ behavior, but he didn’t exactly help matters with everything he did that night. Your mother for instance couldn’t stop raving about it on the way back home. You were grateful William wasn’t there to hear it. He’s worked hard to obtain your parents’ approval, even pretending to be someone he wasn’t at first just to impress them. But nothing he’s done ever worked. By mere virtue of his birth, the match is ill-fated in your parents’ eyes. 

Maybe distance with the blond is what is best. Once you and William are married, they’ll have no choice but to accept it after all. It’ll be done and there’ll be nothing else for them to say.

“Your mother said I could find you here.”

Startled, you nearly drop your embroidery hoop. 

Your head snaps up. 

You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus’ towering frame darkening the entrance of the sunroom, sporting a white shirt and a long black coat. 

“Are you upset?” he asks, heading towards you. 

His bluntness, coupled with his unexpected presence, snatches the words from your tongue for a few minutes.

You blink and frown, focusing on driving the needle through the cotton fabric.

“Upset, why would I be upset?” you evasively reply.

“The gala…” His voice is closer now, the smell of roses floating around you.

You dip your head and examine your needlework. You frown. It’s a bit crooked. The stitches aren’t as tight as they should be, making the petals you were sewing appear misshapen.

“You’ve also been avoiding me,” he adds. Your breath catches as you realize he’s sitting next to you now. “You leave right after every class.”

It’s true that even at the University you’ve made yourself more scarce. You didn’t expect him to notice. But you surmise nothing ever escapes Coriolanus Snow’s sharp senses. As long as you’ve known him, he’s been this way. He’d let the tiniest, most insignificant problem corral his entire attention until he solved it. 

“I haven’t,” you mutter, shrugging. “I’m not upset, Coryo.”

“So why won’t you look at me?” You squeeze your mouth shut, sewing as if your life depended on it.

“Look at me, princess,” he repeats, his hand finding your chin to force your gazes to meet. Your nerves thrum as he gauges you.

“I’m looking at you,” you whisper.

The blond’s forehead creases. His deep timbre softens while he explains, “I just want to be here for you, take care of you. That’s all. It’s just that…” He releases your face, his shoulders sagging. “Nevermind.”

“Tell me,” you insist, now eager to know what words were about to cross his lips.

It’s his turn to dodge your eyes now. “I probably shouldn’t.”

Your frustration hits its crest.

“Now I want to know even more.”

Coriolanus studies you for a while before a long, weary sigh drops from his chest. 

“It’s what Sejanus wanted,” he confesses, his soft inflection wavering.

You exhale sharply. “What?”

His throat bobs, emotions storming his blue eyes as they turn glassy with unshed tears.

“It’s almost like he knew, like he could feel it coming, you know?” Coriolanus pauses as if to gather himself. “He said ‘take care of her for me, please.’ He even had tears in his eyes.”

The hoop slips from your grasp as you gape at him in shock. Your voice comes out a watery quaver, tears welling in your eyes too.

“Did he really say that?”

“He did,” he confirms with a nod. A lone tear travels down his cheek. “I keep wishing I could have saved him, you know?”

He sounds disgusted with himself and your heart wrenches. It’s not like Coriolanus had anything to do with your brother’s death and could have prevented it. It saddens you that he feels the need to carry a burden that isn’t his own. All he did was be a friend to Sejanus. The picture of the two of them Janus carried proves it.

Without thought, your hand reaches his.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

His fingers curl around yours.

“I just want to honor your brother’s last wishes. He was my best friend.” His thumb caresses the back of your hand. “And I know I can never replace him but…let me be here for you, okay?”

You chuckle through the blurry veil of your tears. You can’t believe Coryo carried this weight with him all along. You wish he’d told you earlier. 

He simply wanted to be here for you. You’re both grieving your brother’s death, after all. Guilt trickles within you for even doubting him.

“Of course,” you reply, giving a tearful smile.

His hands rise to cup your face. He gingerly wipes your tears as you sniffle.

His face comes alight with a broad, tight-lipped smile.

“I’m very glad to hear that, princess.”

[kisilinramblings]

After the Wish - Adrien's side

Hi, everyone! Are you ready for some scene analysis? Like the title says, this post will focus on Adrien's scenes following the Wish.

Before I start though, I am very well aware the ending bring a lot of very passionnated and very opinated minds. This is why I am asking to please keep an open mind and keep things civil. I won't tolerate any bashing or rude comments. Both on this post and in my inbox. Keep in mind this analysis in my own interpretation of the shots and scenes based on my cinematographic knowledge as well as my viewing experience and memory of the 5 seasons of Miraculous.

I am sharing this analysis because I love the show and because analysing helps me better understand what I see.

Also, this is a leak free analysis. I only analyze and make conclusions based on what it is shown to us on-screen.

So, if you are ok with staying respectful and open to see the episode through my lens, you are more than welcome to continue reading.

Without further ado, let's go!

After the whole universe was engulfed by the light of Gabriel's Wish, the white screen fade to a close up of Adrien sleeping. Marinette's head then block the shot temporarily before Adrien awaken, smiling. We can guess she kissed him.

This shot personally reminds me of the fairy tales in which the knight kisses the princess to awake her from her curse. And it isn't coincidental if the very first image we see after Gabriel made the Wish is Adrien. There is meaning in that. In fact, I want to point out the shot choice itself because I find it unusual.

We are facing a tight close up facing directly Adrien while he is sleeping and then awakes. Normally, we are more used to a medium shot which allow to see the character is lying down and frame both characters. The camera is also normally placed on the side and not directly facing one particular character. Again in order to see both actors at the same time. Think of Disney Snow White or Sleeping Beauty for example.

And even in more modern ones.

You know which other character in the show who had their eyes closed, often shown in a frontal angle and who we were anticipating to wake up? Émilie.

Except this isn't Émilie who awakes, but Adrien.

Not only this tight close up gives a lot of importance and relevance to him, but Adrien is so in our face that it feels like nothing around him mattered, not even the kiss Adrien received. What matters is Adrien. Solely him. And Adrien is smiling.

Then the camera starts to expand little to little to unveil Adrien's "new world". In cinema, we are quite used to start a scene is with help of wide shot before cuting to closer shots. Here, it is the other way around. Which confers a sense of mystery to the scene.

The first thing Adrien sees is Marinette, the girl he is in love with, at his side, bathed by the summer sunlight. The light choice hints we got a time ellipse between this moment and the previous scene.

As Adrien rises up we see their friends having fun in what we guess is the Agreste Mansion Garden.

The artists are painting a mural inspired by Delacroix's famous painting Liberty Leading the People where the characters are remplaced by La Résistance members and led by Ms Bustier depicted as Liberty herself. She is leading the youth to freedom, to a better future.

The rest of the class and their allies are playing in the pool or chilling together.

This series of shots show us the Agreste Mansion garden flourishing with life. In the background, the flowers are all in full bloom, the plants cover most of the gray stones of the mansion, garnishing those with vibrant green tones. On-screen people laughing and having fun.

Hawkmoth (Party Crasher) : I don't feel any negative emotions. There's only... Joy? What is going on in my house?!

This series of shots shows how we are at the opposite at how life used to be for Adrien. His friends can come over and party with him. We see members of both his family and found family. Adrien isn't trapped inside his home-prison anymore. He isn't isolated anymore. He is surrounded by people who love and care about him. And Gabriel is absent from the picture.

Like Bug Noire said earlier during this episode, Adrien already had all of that before the Wish. Adrien went to school and made friends on his own. He wanted to have a birthday party at his home (Bubbler). He wanted to hang and have fun with his friends on multiple occasions. But Gabriel was always the biggest obstacle for Adrien to have those moments, those memories.

It is Gabriel who kept his son isolated. Because Gabriel was living in the past and was unable to move on with life while Adrien decided he wanted more in life than being stuck inside a cocoon. And at the end of Revolution, Adrien knew what he wanted :

Adrien : Father, please, I know what I want. Let me live my life here in Paris with Marinette and my friends. Gabriel : You must go through with this like an Agreste. That's what your mother would have wanted. Adrien : No, I'm sure that Mom would have just wanted me to be happy.

And, in the end, Adrien's wish is fulfilled.

One last sidenote before I continue concerns that one shot.

Despite not being in the center of the shot, Nathalie seems to be doing better than the last time we saw her. She has a least more colors and has gained her red streak of hair back. Her pose however seems... limited. Maybe her body is still weak from the illness afflicting her. Maybe it is due to budget constraint. Or maybe it is both. And remember what Bug Noire said to Gabriel at the end of their fight : she estimated Nathalie had only a few hours left. And we are weeks from now. Either Bug Noire was wrong in her prognostic or Nathalie survived.

Émilie : Adrien will be well surrounded. He'll have you Nathalie, and he'll have his father, if Gabriel agrees to give up on his madness... and on me. Adrien will have all the love he needs to be happy.

Anyway, the group pauses their activities to watch a new show called "Monde Nouveau" (litteraly "New World") and hosted by Alec.

Alec as we know, has changed to become an icon about being yourself and making your dream come true. And him being the host of that new show instead of a character like Nadja, means that we are looking at an happy and positive vision of things.

He interviews Caline Bustier, now both Mayor of Paris and mother of a girl named Harmonie. She shares her program for a better future to us, the audience.

As she talks about her eco-rules, we see sketches supporting her vision. At the bottom right, we recognize the Tsurugi company logo, but next to it there is a new one we haven't seen before.

Next, we see an unveiling of the statue of Gabriel Agreste, which confirms that Gabriel has died. His statue is made of recycled Alliances put out of commission after Monarch's last attack.

Gabriel's statue is his entire height. Gabriel was already a tall character when he was living and his statue is even taller than him. His chin is up, proud. It is almost like he is superior, looking up like that. The camera slight low angle also contributes to this impression I have. Also, he holds a pencil like the designer he is.

Tomoe : Beyond the visionary entrepreneur and the genius creator, it's the hero we celebrate today.

This is how the Parisians in-universe see him. They are unaware of Gabriel's secret identity. They are unaware of the truth. They only know of the image the professional him gave away and they believed he died in an attempt to stop Monarch.

I want to point out the fact Gabriel's statue is made of Alliances. The very tool he uses to try and defeat Ladybug and Chat Noir. He turned Adrien and Kagami's image into avatar for this product against their will to sell both the Alliances and an illusion. He deformed the truth with their avatars by presenting them as a couple (Revelation), or make deepfakes out of them (Representation and Conformation). Now, Gabriel's statue, his image, is made of the very same tool he used. And the Alliances, despite being put out of commission, still contribute to blur the line of what is truth and what is false in regards of his character to the masses.

With this statue made of Alliances, the parisians are honoring the "perfect" and "pure" image they have of Gabriel. I cannot help but think that this huge statue is bound to create great shadows. And even if the real Gabriel is gone, something of him remains and will continue to have an impact.

Tomoe then talks about continuing Gabriel's legacy. To us, the audience, those words have an ominous double meaning as Tomoe was Gabriel's ally until the end and helped him in many of his schemes. And she confirms she will continue that work.

Caline then gets to talk about her new school model which pleases very much everybody as they cheer all together. It will allows Marinette, Adrien and all their friends to remain together while allowing them to explore and grow in the field that please them respectfully.

Then we cut the the sun setting as the cheers are fading away. It is the end of the day and everyone has gone home.

Adrien is now alone in the garden where his mother's statue used to be. White butterflies are flying around. Marinette joins him as he is fidgeting with his parents' twin ring.

Marinette : You are not wearing it? Adrien : When Ladybug gave it to me, she told me how my father helped her defeat Monarch. At the risk of his life.

With this, we know that Ladybug granted Gabriel's dying wish.

Gabriel : Marinette. Make sure that Adrien never knows about the villain that I was, but instead, that he remembers the times I tried to be a good father.

Was it Marinette's place to accept that burden to cover the truth? To acquiesce to her archenemy's demand? Of course not, but that is how kind she is and how flawed she can be. For Adrien's happiness, Maribug is willing to do so. We, as the audience, know it can only last so long the secret is sealed. And no one among Gabriel, Marinette, Nathalie, Félix, Kagami nor Plagg is aware the secret was already breached outside the family circle.

But for the time being, everyone who knows will keep the fact that Gabriel was Monarch a secret.

But even without the truth, Adrien is conflicted about his feelings towards his father. We see that as Adrien answers Marinette's question, he leans a bit towards her, but there is no contact. His eyes are fixated on the ring. Adrien is distant and inside a bubble of doubt about himself. There is a weight, a legacy, he associates with that family ring that he is not sure if he can bear.

Adrien : I don't know if I'll ever manage to be like him.

It is only when Marinette puts her hands on his, covering the ring and the expectations that come with it, that Adrien finally look at her, brought back to here and now. Marinette reassures Adrien he doesn't need to be like his father. Adrien can just be himself, without having to live up to any expectations placed upon him.

Marinette then proceeds in slips the ring on his finger. Adrien is free and in control of who he wants to be, of what he wants to do, no matter his background. The past doesn't matter anymore. He can just focus on what is ahead of him.

In this short shot reverse shot, we see a bit of Marinette's head in Adrien's shot, however in Marinette's reverse shot, she is framed alone.

This bit has of a shift in the discussion. Marinette made contact with Adrien, entering his "bubble". She has established a connection in their discussion. Her words are reaching him and moving him.

Adrien : You always find the right words, Marinette. When I'm with you, I feel so... free!

And now they are in synch. Both say "I love you" to the other at the same time, which make them laugh. And Adrien wraps Marinette's hand as if he never wants to let her go. As if he will protect and cherish her with all his might. She makes him that happy.

As the white butterflies illustrate, there is no negative emotions around. Only pure hapiness. Only love. And they are kissing where Émilie's statue used to be.

Émilie's message in Collusion : Adrien shouldn't have to suffer the consequences of our mistakes. Our little prince has the right to create his own vision of happiness.

In other words, Monarch did not win. Émilie won. Gabriel has used the Wish, yes, but his wish was different than the one he wanted to make for 5 seasons. And it is not unusual for Gabriel to do everything in his power to grant any of Émilie's wishes. And her final wishes were : for Gabriel to let go of his madness, to not bring her back, and for Adrien to be happy.

And the ghost of Émilie can now rest in peace and stop haunting these walls. And Adrien can fully love Marinette the way he wants without any obstacle in the way anymore.

And all points to the Power of Love has ultimately won. Even the most important characters in those scene all have a link related to love.

Adrien was created by love. Ms Bustier promotes love as one of her teachings and she was akumatized twice out of that very emotion (spread love, protect the children's future). And she got elected as Mayor. Alec who interviews Ms Bustier is also another character who is now full of love and care. And Marinette fought for love. Even the Agreste Mansion Garden is associated to love. Gabriel and Émilie got a scene there during Evolution. Marinette and Adrien got a romantic date there as well. Heck, this is even where Nathalie shares she was ready to help Gabriel out of love.

Love may falter or even fades away for a time, but right now, in Adrien's scenes, love is fully blooming.

Back to the scene, as Marinette and Adrien kiss, the camera zoom out at the shot crossfades, giving the impression their kiss is everlasting. And ultimately fades to white...

... before the white suddenly cut to Nadja Chamack's news report where she interviews Professor Du Bocquale about the international event that had happened.

Using both the news reporter and the scientific, we transitioned to Marinette's Guardian of the Miraculous pov. The sentimentality and dream life is over, it is time to get back to the facts and reality. The Happy Ever After is not quite accomplish yet.

And that will be developped in second eventual part because I am reaching the limit of images allowed in one single Tumblr post ^^;

Anyway, thank you for reading this far and stay tuned!

[shesmore-shoebill]

happy friday, i got a burst of motivation and sped-wrote a small, fluffy amangela scene about the "seals in another life" comment from the games livestream and Amanda's "... yeah. Yeah." after the comment. So!

Written pretty quick in one go, so, yknow. Adjust expectations accordingly.

As always: RPF with F as in fiction. Not at all meant to speculate on the real people who I don't know.

Platonic, short, fluffy.

----- start

Amanda is the one to bring it up the next day, lounging on the couch in the break room, checking her emails. Angela is squished up against her shoulder, idly scrolling through TikToks, when Amanda clears her throat. "So."

Angela pauses her scrolling, adjusting her position so she can look up at Amanda's face from where she's wedged against her side. There's a hint of amusement in Amanda's tone, that could either be very good or very bad.

"You and me as seals, in a different life, huh?" Amanda looks over her shoulder at Angela, grinning. Angela, mid adjustment,  rolls her eyes, flopping back down to prop her head up on Amanda's shoulder. "Shut the fuck up." She groans. "You know what I meant. It's like. You and me. In the sun on some rocks or snow. Lying around. Barking at each other while rolling around. Swimming together."

Amanda hums quietly. "Yeah." She says thoughtfully. "Hell yeah. We could share fish, or like. Go murder penguins together."

"...Okay, morbid."

"What? They do that. I saw it in a documentary."

"On People.com?"

"Okay, well, obviously PEOPLE dot com is not going to have documentaries about SEALS, ya silly goose." Amanda drops her voice into a funny accent for the last few words, and Angela giggles, despite herself. The room quiets for a bit, as Angela resumes scrolling on her phone.

"I think it'd be nice." Amanda breaks the silence again, and Angela adjusts her position again so she can look at Amanda's face. Amanda looks thoughtful, but when her gaze catches Angela's, its full of affection. "You're so right. You and me. Seals in a different life. Hanging out."

Angela beams up at her, warmth blooming in her chest. "Thank you. Exactly. ....even if you think I'd be a walrus."

"You'd have a moustache! It would be perfect!"

"You're the one that LOVES moustaches."

"You like them too! Don't lie to me."

"Okay then that means we would BOTH be walruses."

"Wait I want to be a hot seal though."

This gets a full laugh out of Angela. "You want to be a HOT seal?”

“Well, I don’t want to be an UGLY seal.”

"Oh yeah, can't have our alternate universe seal selves be ugly, can you imagine."

"Yeah, our seal selves need to be HOT. All the other seals should be tripping over themselves to catch our eye at the seal bar." Amanda slips further and further into a goofy voice as she speaks, Angela now giggling uncontrollably.  

"Then we can go on dates with them, have a terrible time, and debrief with each other after like "UGH, can you BELIEVE how disappointing that was?" and we can watch Seal Dateline and paint each others nails." Amanda pauses. "...Flippers."

“Good to know you have us visualized as teen girl seals.” 

“You were thinking of us like old man seals, weren’t you. Floating around in the water. Complaining about our wives. Eating fish.”

“And hanging out in the sun. Swimming. And just barking away with each other.”

“...”

“Sounds good, right?”

“...Okay, fine, we can both be walruses.”

“THANK you. That's fine.” Angela drops her attention back to her phone, relaxing back into Amanda’s side and propping her head back on her shoulder. “Told you. We were seals together in another life.”

Amanda laughs, dropping her head to the side to rest on top of Angela’s. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” There’s a warm smile in her voice, as she picks back up her phone as well, humming once before admitting.

“Sounds pretty nice.”

"....I'd be the hotter walrus, though."

"Okay, LISTEN-"

------- end!

[corleonewrites]

La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Summary: Two people connected by the same past. Two lawyers. And one tangled case which brought them back together again, giving them the opportunity to sort out their feelings towards each other, no matter how painful memories are to both of them can be.

Chapter 3. Suite Española No. 1, Op. 47: V. Asturias - Leyenda Arr. for String Orchestra

Isaac Albéniz music was playing in my headphones and my thoughts were running fast with the speed of the train on my way to Grenoble, when I was re-reading all the notes which Vincent gave me two days ago, trying to concentrate on the future case.

“You were always a cold-hearted strong and mysterious woman from when I saw you for the first time”, this sentence from my ex-tutor didn’t leave my head, keep repeating itself over and over again with the same tone of voice that he had.

This was true. Even with my close friends I was closed off, didn't open my soul because I wanted to keep my secrets inside me, thinking that they won’t understand me and my insecurities. Only with Vincent, when we became closer, I opened my soul a little. Because he wasn’t like the other men who I used to know. Despite the fact that for him I was always a little girl, which was obvious, because he was older than me. Funny how among my peers I felt myself older than I was when with Vincent, I let myself feel like a teenager, when we were separated by an age interval of fifteen years.

I chuckled to myself and dug deeper into the notes of the case.

______________________________________________________________

“Do you have any idea what his age can be?”, Loise asked just if it was a completely regular question, when Vincent passed us by when Loise, Estella and I were standing near the university’s entrance the other day, after the lectures.

“Too old for you, for sure”, Estella laughed, “And definitely for all of us”

“How can you be so sure?”, Loise looked at her resentfully, and checked herself in a mirror, “For me he looks like he’s 30 and 50 at the same time”

“Because he’s got wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles?”, Estella pointed out, when I finally looked at both of them, after I watched him go as he sat inside his car: red vintage Mercedes and drove away, “He’s 39, Simone from the administration told me so”

“Simone told you what?”, Jean-Louis reached us, placing his hand on Estella’s shoulder, and winking at me

“Girls talks, Jean-Louis, that’s not so interesting”, I looked at both Loise and Estella once again, “Anyways, I’m off home now”

“Oh, wait, what about today’s bar night? Camille, did you forget about it? We planned it for a whole week”, Estella asked me, when I, honestly, completely forgot about our plan to spend the evening at the bar where all the students and teachers from Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne loved to hang out after studying hours.

“I’ll be there at 9, don’t worry”, I had to lie that I remembered about the evening. Well, at least I thought that I’d clean my mind and relax from weekend of research for my diploma essay.

______________________________________________________________

The sun was getting down when the train stopped at its final destination in Grenoble. With my travel bag in one hand and with a bag full of documents on my shoulder, I caught a taxi and sped off towards a small hotel which would become my home for an indefinite amount of time which I was planning to spend during my work.

The door of the hotel room opened and I got inside a small, but cozy room with big bed, big table with a small bookcase and a painting The Boulevard Montmartre on a Winter Morning of Camille Pissarro on the wall. The view from the room’s window was breathtaking: huge mountains and white snow was covering the roads of the city, small ginger bread-like houses surrounded the area, it felt like I got inside winter fairytale.

Without even unpacking my luggage, I sighed and lay down on the bed, as I was completely tired and had sleepless nights as I was packing my luggage, preparing all the documents for the case when the unbearable desire to meet Vincent was overwhelming me at the same time. This anxiety left me with no sleep at all, so I was glad to finally have the opportunity to at least lay in bed and relax for some time.

I finally made my mind clear: it was the time to place dots on every i in relationships between me and my ex-tutor and my love affair; it was the right time to reduce all those romantic thoughts and hopes which I still had inside of me, which were trying to burst out, knowing how they were hurt before, but still believing in happy ending, despite the fact that the injury from this love affair that we had with Vincent didn’t cure at all.

______________________________________________________________

Surprisingly or not, but when I got inside the bar, I saw not only Loise, Estella and Jean-Louis, but also our new tutor Vincent Renzi, who looked directly at me but quickly moved his gaze away, when I tried to get to my friends’ table, only noticing that he was sitting alone behind the bar desk. My only thought was: was it a pure accident that he was at the same time in exactly the same bar, as it was a very popular place among students and teachers from Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne. I lowered my gaze, and reached the table, when Jean-Louis asked bartender for a round of cider for all of us.

At that time, I started to get angrier, because not only almost all the girls’ attention from my course was on Vincent. I got myself an idea that because of all this fuzz around him I would distract myself from the tutor, creating an appearance of indifference, maybe even disguise. But maybe it was because my interest in him was growing inside me, but I didn’t want to admit it in any case. And so, during that evening at the bar I decided to reduce all those crazy thoughts for some time and forget about him, even though he was at exactly the same place on exactly the same time.

Of course, Estella and Loise recognized him, but thankfully decided not to bother Vincent with their attention, and we continued talking about all sort of things, but particularly about our final exams and essays which we needed to write to graduate from university.

______________________________________________________________

Sometimes, during my childhood, I didn’t want to study at all, I was lazy, maths was my least favourite subject at school, when French and English were the most favourite. But before entering the university I finally realized what I wanted to do in my life, as, probably, it was written in my destiny, because I was always paying attention to my parents’ work as lawyers, everything fascinated me, despite the fact that I knew that sometimes it was very hard.

And so, during my university years I began to study as hard and as passionate as I could, paying close attention to every subject and every rule, I didn’t even have time to relax properly during weekends. At that time, I wasn’t thinking about boys, relationships, all this kind of things, because I wasn’t interested in it, studies were priority to me.

To clean my mind from all those studies I found myself in films: I fell in love with cinematography, I watched a lot of films, finding my favourite actors, directors and films, I even attended some lectures about cinematography. Unfortunately, not every person among my friends were so passionate about my hobby, so most of my time I was watching films by myself, writing small reviews about them in special document on my laptop. I was believing that someday I’d find the right person not only to talk to about cinematography but also to fall in love with.

Who knew at that time that this person would suddenly show up at Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne and it wouldn’t be a student.

______________________________________________________________

They are right when they say that for a drunken mind speaks sober heart. After two glasses of cider, slightly drunken, I left my friends for a couple of minutes to have a smoke outside the bar, to get my head some fresh air and almost bumped into Vincent, who was also smoking his cigarette in front of bar’s entrance.

“Oh, good evening, monsieur Renzi”, I said it with a little annoyance, because I absolutely did not want to run into him that evening. Or at that moment, I wanted it to seem that way to myself. Trying to light my cigarette, and realizing that my lighter had stopped working, I looked at Vincent again, realizing that after all, I would have to talk to him. Something clicked inside my head and I decided to play a game with him. Never knowing where it would lead both of us.

“You got a light? My lighter seems to be ran out”

“Of course”, he said calmly and got his lighter out of the pocket, opening it. I bent over the fire, placing my hand over his, trying to light my cigarette and feeling a pleasant wooden-like smell of his perfume.

I've always had a taste for fragrances, and I've always paid special attention to how a man smells, so, of course, Vincent was among the ones, whose smell of perfume I loved.

“And please, outside the university, I’m Vincent, not monsieur Renzi, we’re not at the lecture room”, he added, lightning his cigarette this time, when I took a puff from mine.

“Well, okay, Vincent, then I’m just Camille, without mademoiselle Cadieux outside the university”

“We got a deal”, he smiled and continued, “Well, Camille, why aren’t you hanging out with your friends who I saw at the bar?”

“Apart from taking a smoke? Honestly, I’m not that interested in hanging out with them. They’re all children”.

“Aren’t we all?”, he asked looking at me. And probably alcohol helped me to open my mind and heart more than it have been expected, so I replied, without paying attention to what I was saying, because at that time my mind was more opened:

“Maybe, but when it comes to my taste in men – I like being with someone who’s older than me”

There. I said it and the sentence disappeared into thin air of the night. Vincent just looked at me, this time even closer and more thoughtful and I felt like my heart just dropped. I probably crossed the line. But probably my heart started to act truly, without lies, as I began to notice that I wanted to get attention from monsieur Renzi, and not in the student-tutor common relationships. I’ve lost the game.

______________________________________________________________

The sound of the incoming message woke me up from my thoughts.

“Hello, Camille. Hope you got to Grenoble safely. I’ll be waiting for you in front of your hotel tomorrow at 10, we’ll get my car to drive to Sandra’s house. The trip won’t take long. I won’t bother you any longer, see you tomorrow”

I smirked and typed “Okay” and put my phone on the bed, getting up from my bed and reaching the window, pulling back the curtain to look at the opening view.

The game just started again and this time I wanted to take revenge.

[raccoonfallsharder]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox of the last 10 people who reblogged something from you to get to know your mutuals and followers <3

1. asks, honestly!!! (thank you!!)

2. writing & painting & drawing. i know that might seem obvious but both make me feel like im flying. i fully lose time when im working on something new. similarly, the moments at work when i get to actually help someone.

3. the slight muscle soreness you get when you’ve exercised (intentionally or unintentionally). it always reminds me of when i was a kid and i would climb trees for hours and be achy the next day. nothing like being in a treetop

4. you know that feeling when you’re with people you love, specifically at like 2am? maybe you’re stargazing on a roof or staring into a bonfire or admiring the midnight snow under lampposts, or sitting on swings in an empty playground sipping chocolate shakes because someone got a craving — maybe there are crickets or bullfrogs or waves lapping in the darkness somewhere you can’t quite see — and maybe your friends are occasionally murmuring something, sharing an old memory or observation, or maybe they’re just being quiet and listening with you? and you don’t have anything to say but you’re just so full, basking in the quiet camaraderie and the peace and a little bit of wonder that in spite of all the garbage in the world, in spite of capitalism and anxiety and inequity and injustice, the universe gave you this little starry pocket of a moment, shared with these perfect people? THAT. that feeling

5. cats. and sparkly things.

get ready if you’ve reblogged from me (and have your asks on) i guess

[littlekatleaf]

To love what is lovely, and will not last

I come, after a long absence, with Sandman fic. Not exactly what I'd planned, but I've been fiddling with it for so long and everything else has been blocked behind it.... It's almost 3am and I'm calling it done.

To stop time when something wonderful  has touched us as with a match which is lit, and bright, but does not hurt in the common way, but delightfully ~ Mary Oliver, “Snow Geese”

Hob’s alarm beeps insistently, dragging him from the ocean of sleep and washing him onto the shore of waking - blinking, bleary. He grabs for the phone to silence it. Not even out of bed when his thoughts turn to the day’s tasks - marking long overdue, final edits of a journal article and likely several desperate calls from students wanting to earn extra credit. At least he has the solstice party after, as a treat.

Beside him, Morpheus shifts. “Time is it,” he mumbles into the pillow, voice rough, sleep-worn.

“Half six,” Hob says, tugging a shirt over his head. “Gotta get to work.”

“Are you mad? It’s only been three hours.”

As though the words remind his body, Hob yawns, then coughs into his sleeve. “Two hours too long. I’ve got at least three days’ work to pack in before the party.”

Morpheus peers at him. Frowns. “You’re still recovering from your illness. Come back to bed.”

“Don’t fuss; I’m much improved. Nowhere near my death.” Hob pokes him in the ribs, gently. Morpheus obliges with a sound that bears passing resemblance to a chuckle. “Besides the Dean’ll have my job, tenure or no, if I don’t get marks in today.” Hob forces himself to stand before the softness of the sheets and the warmth of Morpheus’s body pull him back. He more than half expects Morpheus to reach for him, attempt to draw him down.

Instead, Morpheus stares rather blankly for a long minute then abruptly turns his back, burrowing deeper into the quilts. Hob sighs. Deeply. He wishes he could say fuck it all and join him, but the fresher flu set him back significantly. No matter what he’d rather, procrastination is right out. Blasted responsibilities.

He consumes an entire pot of coffee which somehow manages to make him edgy without ridding him of tiredness. Cheek propped on fist, he works his way through the stack of final essays and take-home exams and doesn’t allow himself to move from his desk until midday. As he wanders into the kitchen, still trying to decide whether the last student really makes the argument he’s attempting, Hob catches a trailing melody from Morpheus’s studio, the echo of a beat. Something electronic - Paul Van Dyk, maybe? - better for a rave than a Saturday noon, but it’s what Morpheus prefers when he’s painting. Hob smiles; at least one of them is having fun. He pictures Morpheus in his usual pose - scowling at the canvas like it’s personally insulted him, one paintbrush in his hand, another tucked behind his ear, hair wild and paint spattered.  

Hob goes to put his mug into the dishwasher, but finds it still full of clean dishes. Sighing, he adds it to a pile of dirty plates, glasses, and another mug that’s sticky with honey and redolent of mint and chamomile. He frowns. Unusual - Morpheus drinking tea, but Hob supposes the flat is chilly. Luckily the stack doesn’t overbalance and he promises himself he’ll take care of it after the party. Stomach rumbling, he opens the refrigerator to see what leftovers might still be edible and discovers, miracle of all miracles, a sandwich so freshly made the lettuce hasn’t yet wilted. It’s his favorite - brie and green apple - and he instantly forgives Morpheus ignoring the washing up as he takes a huge bite. With fortification, he might just make it to the end of the day.

Finally the third frantic student call is patiently attended to, the last of the marks are uploaded to the university system, the email to his editor is sent into the ether, and Hob feels distinctly lighter. He clatters down stairs to find final party preparations in full swing. Gabriel’s directing Morpheus in proper placement of furniture and decorations, Mako’s checking the sound system for Geordie’s band, and Jamie’s setting up the bar. After two decades of parties, none of them need his instruction, and even his practiced eye can’t find anything out of place. He expects no less, and yet the pride in what they’ve built brings a warmth to his chest. Nothing like mulled wine, holiday songs, good food and friends to pass the longest night and welcome the sun’s return at dawn.

Hob watches as Morpheus, balancing rather precariously on the edge of a chair across the room, attempts to drape a pine garland over the doorway. As he stretches to get the angle just right, his shirt slides up, exposing a pale strip of skin, stark against the black of his jeans. Hob imagines brushing his fingertips over that expanse, making Morpheus shiver under his touch. Suddenly Morpheus flinches, sharp. The chair tips, but he manages to catch himself at the last moment, dropping lightly to the floor. 

“All right?” Hob asks, surprised at the unusual lapse of grace.

Morpheus nods as he passes, heading for the stairs. He doesn’t meet Hob’s gaze. 

Hob turns to follow, but his phone rings. Jilly’s car’s broken down, can someone give her a ride? Never one to look askance at a fortunate turn of events, he gives her Geordie’s number. There’s plenty of room in the band’s van, they’re coming from the same end of town - and if Geordie has been looking for an excuse to talk to her for weeks, well that’s just a lucky coincidence.

“Meddling, are we?” Jamie laughs at Hob’s guilty startle.

He pulls an affronted expression. “I’d never. Nudge, maybe. Hint. A bit. Never meddle.”

Jamie raises an eyebrow. 

Mako tosses a towel at him. “Get back to work and quit giving him shit. After all, worked with us, didn’t it?” 

“Maybe.” But the hint of a smile curls Jamie’s lips and he follows Mako’s orders. “Better get yourself presentable, boss. You know Lena and Emily are gonna be here any minute.” 

Hob looks down, realizing he hasn’t yet changed out of his ancient sweatshirt, then over at the clock above the bar. “Bollocks. Is it possible to be late to your own party?” “For you? Absolutely.” 

“Remind me again why I hired you?”

“Because I make the filthiest martinis.” Jamie grins wolfishly as he tips gin and vermouth into a shaker.

Mako rolls his eyes. “Filthy something anyway.”

“Pot, kettle.” 

Their good-natured bickering follows Hob upstairs where he finds Morpheus in his favorite spot, curled on the window seat. Party or no, he’s wearing his usual grey t-shirt and black jeans. In defiance of the season, his feet are bare. 

“It is beginning to snow,” Morpheus says, not looking away from the gathering dusk where fat flakes of snow are, indeed, swirling down and dusting the grass and trees.

Hob considers whether suggesting Morpheus put on something warmer would make him sound like a nagging mum. Probably would do. “It’s said to bring luck, if the first snowfall of the year happens on the solstice,” he says instead, forcing himself to pay attention to the puzzle of his own attire. He needs something appropriate to the party, but comfortable.

“Might the weather keep your friends from attending the festivities?” Morpheus’s expression is unreadable in the blurry reflection of the window, but the wistfulness of his tone is clear and it takes Hob aback. While Morpheus hasn’t whinged about the annual solstice gathering, and has, point of fact, encouraged Hob to continue the tradition, he has also tended to be solitary since he … retired. Hob hadn’t imagined he would be looking forward to a gathering, no matter the occasion. 

“Not likely. The heavy snow isn’t supposed to come until later tomorrow, and it takes more than a few centimeters to make Lena miss a party. There’ll be plenty of time for people to sober up in the morning and make their way home before the storm really hits.” He doesn’t acknowledge that Morpheus has named them Hob’s friends, as though they are not Morpheus’s as well, but he notes the fact.

“Good. I-I’ve never-” Morpheus’s voice catches on a hitching breath and he curls into himself, pinching a set of sneezes into silence. It takes him a second to recover. “Bless you. Never…?” Hob prompts, when he seems to be lost in thought.

Morpheus blinks back to himself. “N-never -” He sniffles, presses a curled finger under his nose, rubs gently. “- been to a party.” He manages to finish in a rush, then crumples again. “Httnxxt! N’xxt!  Hih-N’xxtch!” He shivers, gooseflesh rising along his arms.

“Bless you. All right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just. A passing chill.” 

Unable to resist, Hob pulls a flannel shirt from his wardrobe and holds it out. “I know, I know. It’s got long sleeves and color and everything. But as you may have heard, the weather outside is frightful and this will keep you warm.”

Morpheus heaves a long suffering sigh, then slides the shirt on anyway. The blue is almost exactly the same shade as his eyes, rich and deep as the Aegean Sea. 

“I find it extremely hard to believe that the King of All Night’s Dreaming has never gone to a party,” Hob says. He finally decides on his most ridiculous ugly Christmas jumper -  bright red, covered with black cats in Santa hats - a gift from an American student years ago. 

Morpheus glares at him through watery eyes. “Not one I wished to attend.”

“Not even in the Fey realms?” 

“You will not tempt me to speak a word against the Fey,” Morpheus says archly, then sniffles again, marring the hauteur.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Morpheus nods, but his focus has shifted. “I am…” He’s interrupted by a sneeze, then a second and third tumble after, harsh even muffled in his sleeve. “Ht’Isshuh! Hih-Issshh-isshue!” He takes the tissue Hob offers. “I am, perhaps, coming down with something,” he admits ruefully.

“Perhaps,” Hob echoes, teasing. “A foregone conclusion, considering my state these last days.” He digs through the bottom of the wardrobe. He’s sure there’s a belt in there somewhere. And at least one matching pair of socks.  

“I’m sorry. I had been. Hoping. To attend a party simply as a guest. And to better acquaint myself with those who are important to you.” Morpheus clears his throat, then coughs.

Hob pauses and looks up from his search, startled. “You’re sorry,” he asks, the apology the first thing his brain latches on to. Rare, even now, for Morpheus to apologize for a small matter.

Morpheus shrugs, gaze turned out the window again. “I’ve been telling myself I am not ill, but I can no longer deny it. Promise you’ll tell me stories of the night come morning?”

“Are you feeling that badly? To miss it?” Though Hob had spent a day in bed himself, that was mostly at Morpheus’s insistence. He’d barely had a fever and was fine to muddle through. But Morpheus had badgered him into resting after the intensity of the semester, playing into his own procrastination tendencies too well. 

He brushes a hand over Morpheus’s forehead, then his cheeks. He’s still cool to the touch, though now that Hob’s slowed down enough to pay attention, he notices the shadows pooled under blue eyes, the slight pinch between brows that indicates headache, visible even in the window reflection, remembers the tea mug, the morning distance. Morpheus must have realized he was getting sick even then and hoped to stave it off.

“I don’t wish anyone else to catch this.”

“Just don’t snog other people and they won’t.” 

Morpheus finally turns to face him and glowers. “I would never.”

“I know you wouldn’t. Come on, duck.” Hob shifts, leaning Dream against his side and carding gentle fingers through his ever-messy hair. “Everyone else has already had the crud. Even Jamie, and he never gets sick.”

“Truly?” Morpheus sighs, hope warring with suspicion in his voice. 

Hob does his best impression of innocence. “Would I lie to you?” “Without a doubt, if it gets you what you want.”

“What I want is you. It really is okay.” He leans down, presses a kiss to Morpheus’s temple. “And Mei isn’t coming, thank all that’s holy. She’s the only one who might be bothered.” “You dislike her.” Morpheus says slowly, as though he’s piecing together a puzzle. “It cannot be simply her subject.” Hob shakes his head. “I could forgive her teaching Shakespeare. I could even forgive her enjoying it. But she was unkind to you.” More than once, he doesn’t add. 

“A minor incident,” Morpheus argues, but a faint flush colors his cheeks and when they join the party, he stays close to Hob’s side far longer than usual before retreating to a chair in an out of the way corner, beside the hearth. 

With ease born of long practice, Hob threads his way through the pub, greeting the guests and chatting easily with each, while keeping a sliver of his focus on Morpheus. At first he sits alone, an island in the flow of the crowd. To the untrained eye, he seems distant, uninterested, his face impassive, body carefully rigid. Behind the mask, Hob knows, Morpheus is following the currents of conversations surrounding him. Technically no longer Prince of Stories, they still seem to nourish him.

Hob is all the way across the pub when he catches sight of Lena and Emily pulling chairs up to join Morpheus. Lena’s got a look in her eye that bodes ill for Hob - she knows too many embarrassing stories and never hesitates to share. Before he can intercept them, he’s pulled into a heated debate over whether Irish whiskey or Scotch is superior. By the time he manages to extricate himself, it’s clear that they’ve made themselves comfortable. Not surprising, but what does surprise him is that Morpheus actually seems to be equally comfortable with them. For the first time his body is at ease as he listens intently to something Lena’s saying.

“And that’s why he isn’t allowed to… Oh, oops,” she interrupts herself as Hob comes in earshot, but she doesn’t look even the slightest bit embarrassed. 

“Hello Hob.” A hint of mirth quirks Morpheus’s lips.

Hob directs an exaggerated frown at Lena. “You’d better not be telling him about the pub in Dublin.”

“She wasn’t, but now she must,” Morpheus says, his voice little more than a rasp. His breath catches. Stutters. “Ex-excuse me,” he manages to say, turning away hastily. “Hih…ht’Issh! Issh! Hih-Isssh!”

Lena and Emily chorus blessings and Hob bites his tongue on the urge to ask how he’s feeling; he’d just brush off Hob’s concern, say it’s nothing. An oily feeling of disquiet curls into Hob’s belly anyway. He tells himself firmly to ignore it. “Dammit, Lena, that means I’ll have to tell him about what got us banished from Trinity’s library and I’m not nearly drunk enough for that.”

“The night is young,” Lena says. ”Go get yourself another drink. It’s time for your boyfriend to get to know the real you.”

Morpheus catches his gaze. “I could use a drink as well.”

Hob tosses up his hands in defeat. “All right, all right. Just leave me with a scrap of reputation, yeah?” 

“I make no promises,” Lena says and her grin is wicked. Even as he walks away, Hob is certain he hears Morpheus chuckling under his breath.

“Good turnout,” Jamie says when Hob joins him behind the bar. He’s right - somewhere above fifty people, professors and students mingling with a few of the pub’s regulars. Someone’s pushed tables aside and a few brave (and inebriated) souls are dancing.  Others play cards or darts, and he’s pretty sure he can make out a couple snogging in a darker corner. There’s plenty of food, the plates and cutlery seem well stocked, the music isn’t loud enough to keep people from talking. Everything is in order. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. But maybe he should make another circuit of the pub, just to be certain…

“Gabriel’s got it under control, boss. And if anyone starts anything, Mako will handle it. Take the night off for once.”

Hob winces. “Am I that obvious?”

“Let’s just say best you avoid the poker table. Or, actually, fancy a game?” 

“Sod off; you’re on duty,” Hob says, laughing. 

“And so’s Gabe. Enjoy the party. The company.” He looks meaningfully toward the little group by the hearth.

“I will. I am.” It’s true, he realizes. Emily leans forward, gesturing emphatically, managing to interrupt Lena and take the story over herself. Not upset in the least, Lena’s expression is a little proud of her girlfriend’s audacity, and more than a little fond. Morpheus presses a hand over his mouth as he laughs, but even muffled, the abrupt wounded goose honk of it startles both Lena and Emily into giggles as well. His eyes shine, simply reflected firelight. No longer magic and yet… still his Stranger. Once lost, now found. His Friend, who has known him over so many long years, and who he is finally getting to know as well.

Morpheus straightens, moves slightly away from the others. Hob wonders if he’s offended - or hurt - by their reaction. But then he grabs a napkin from the table and his laughter disintegrates into coughing. 

“Poor bloke’s been sick a lot this winter. Better take one of these for him,” Jamie says, handing Hob two steaming mugs of mulled wine. “Tell him feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. I’ll tell him.” Hob forces himself to smile, but the uncomfortable disquiet has returned. He hadn’t paid close attention, but now that Jamie’s pointed it out, he can’t ignore it. Morpheus has been ill on and off since the beginning of the school year. There are a thousand reasons for it - everyone gets sick with new germs and uni is a veritable petri dish; Morpheus hasn’t even had a body for that long, of course it would be vulnerable. But what if it’s worse? He blinks and in the darkness a flash of a body laid out on marble, covered with a sheer cloth and yet he knows who it was… he knows.

“There’s mulled wine? And you didn’t bring us any? Rude,” Lena says.

“Sorry, only two hands,” Hob hands one to Morpheus, then takes a deep drink of his own.  

“Oh, I love this song - dance?” Emily asks as Geordie and the band begin a reel. To Hob’s relief Lena agrees. She takes Emily’s arm and they whirl into the knot of dancers. Morpheus watches them go, still smiling - but the light of the fire casts the angles of his face into strange, deep shadows and Hob drinks again.

“Robert.” Though it’s still rough, Morpheus’s voice is somewhat stronger. There’s a question in it that Hob doesn’t want to answer.

He keeps his eyes on his mug. “Jamie says he hopes you feel better soon.”

“Hob.”

“Do you want to dance, too? I’m not great, but once I finish this drink…” he takes another, longer swallow. “Enough,” Morpheus says, the command no less forceful for coming through a human throat. 

Hob finally looks down to find Morpheus gazing up at him with eyes that no longer swirl with endless constellations, but are still deeper than Hob can fathom. He releases the mug and Morpheus takes his hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the inside of Hob’s wrist.

“What has disturbed you?” 

“I… The longest night is not long enough.” 

“No?”

Hob shakes his head. He always wants more time.

Morpheus draws him down, puts an arm around him, rests his head on Hob’s shoulder. “I believe it is true - the first snowfall on Yule is indeed fortunate.”

“Why,” Hob asks into his hair. 

“Because I have good drink. Good music. Good friends. And you. It is enough.” He presses his lips to Hob’s wrist and warmth flows through the contact, through Hob’s whole body until it feels like he glows bright as the flames.

“I suppose it is.”

[thepaintedlady00]

Burden Chapter 13 Sneak Peek 2

Hi! Sorry, this has taken so much longer than I expected! I've been trying to pack and get things moved, but the weather where I live has been horrible (we got so much snow, and that's making it a lot harder), and on top of that, I'm sick! 😅 So I haven't had a lot of time to write (I do apologize for the long wait), but I've been slowly chipping away at chapter 13, so I'm hoping I'll be able to get it done and edited before the end of this week. As always, thank you so much for your patience, and I just really appreciate you guys. 🥰

So, here is our sneak peek! (it's also short, sorry I'm just trying not to spoil the whole chapter here xD)

🌌🌅

The Dreaming had been a realm of vast beauty as ever-changing and endless as the being that forged it. The Dreams and Nightmares that dwelt there had seen a great many wondrous things like a sky filled with shooting stars or the wind laced with hues of color as it moved through the town with music, and, of course, the multiple occasions of endless rain that matched their kings' downtrodden mood. Still, all throughout The Dreaming, they agreed they'd never seen something as wondrous and beautiful as this. The sky was alight with stars and night mixing like paint with the pink and gold hues of the dawn. Puffy clouds swept through the vast plane, a bed for the shining stars and the morning glow. Dreams and Memories sharing the sky.

Dream of The Endless had many lovers before you, but none had made him feel this way. Safely tucked within his private chambers, the great being of the unconscious mind held you as you slept soundly against him. The softness of your skin, the heat that you produced, was something he knew in an instant he'd never get enough of. Your white hair spilled across his dark sheets like fallen snow as feathers still swirled along the floor in a delicate dance.

All he could do was look at you and watch you as you dreamt sweet dreams of him. He could feel the truth of the words you'd whispered to him the night before. Dream could feel the love and devotion you bore for him as though it were a natural law of this universe. And perhaps it was… Perhaps your fates had been so intertwined from the start. It was, in his mind, the only explanation for how deeply he felt. 

In every tongue, every word he knew - in languages so old even the earth and cosmos above no longer remembered - Dream of the Endless loved you. How could he not? How had he ever spent one moment of his life not loving you? Your lips quirked into a quick smile as one of your moonlit eyes opened. "I fear I may crumble under the great gaze of an Endless, should you continue to stare at me so."

He laughed, a sound so full of mirth and peace, accompanied by a true smile that made you wonder if he'd always been so… Adorable. "Forgive me. I did not know a mighty goddess would be so susceptible beneath a thing as simple as my gaze."

"Everything is susceptible to your gaze," you replied, lifting your hand to stroke his face lovingly. "Such a thing makes even the most stoic of creatures weep."

"Such flattering words," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "One must wonder what you seek to gain from such compliments."

Your smile was too beautiful as you shifted, pressing your lips to his chest. "Do I not already have everything I could possibly wish for?"

"That depends. What is it you wish for?"

"You." Your breath caressed his skin, a frozen thing that sent a chill up the Dream Lords' spine.

His night eyes sparkled as he stroked your hair behind your ear. "Then yes, you have your wish. I am yours completely, my love."

Your eyes fluttered closed. "Say it again."

"I am yours," he repeated.

"No," you replied, smiling brightly. "Say that you love me."

If he could perish, Dream was certain he would have then and there, and he could think of no better way to enter his sister's lands. He twisted his body, pulling you beneath him to press an array of kisses all over your face. "I love you, my Munin."

Your hands combed through his messy hair. "As I love you, my Dream."

[meraxes-of-new-albion]

What's it like being a zookeeper? What's your day like, and how'd you get into that?

Hi!

It's both really cool and really frustrating lol.

For context this is US, AZA based zoos; if you're elsewhere I have no idea whether the path that works here works elsewhere.

This got long so readmore.

I don't want to paint this career with rose tinted glasses. It's a passion career, and like all passion careers, you will be overworked, underpaid, and probably surrounded by reasonably privileged white people who can afford the overworked + underpaid. (I am absolutely no exception to this rule, btw.)

That said, a couple weeks ago I got to pet a Canada lynx. I've fed peanut butter to wolves, watched a secretary bird hunt, bonded with a Harris hawk, and made best friends with a plush-crested jay. You get the *coolest* stories, and it helps make the crappy parts of the job feel worthwhile; it's hard to resent your life when you're feeding bananas to a moose.

As far as career path goes, I'm still early in mine, but generally from talking to people, this is how it goes for most people: they go to a 4 year college/university for a degree in biology or something related -> they do at least one (unpaid :/) internship during college to get experience -> they work seasonally/part time at a zoo (generally several zoos, generally moving across the country multiple times)(this is where I'm at in my career) -> they get a full time, benefitted gig somewhere, and either work until a spot at a zoo they'd rather be at opens up, or they live the rest of their career there.

I'd like to stress this isn't the *only* career path - a lot of my coworkers here were dog trainers or what have you beforehand, a different coworker at a different zoo moved from guest services into a seasonal role and got hired on full time from there - but it is by far the most common one. This is also the reason we're pretty much all privileged white people - if you don't have family/friends who can subsidize three months worth of work that you don't get paid for, often you're a bit SOL. This is, very slowly, changing, apparently the MIlkwaukee zoo pays their interns for example, but it's still few and far between, and a very competitive field.

As far as my day to day goes, that changes a lot from zoo to zoo and even job to job - I'm a relief keeper here, so my day changes drastically based on which route I'm covering. At my previous zoo, I worked in their bird department, so my days were a bit more predictable; that was also a much bigger zoo so things like diet prep were handled by a completely different department rather than every route doing their own diets, or one person doing all of them every day. it's definitely worth investigating which kinds of animals you'd like to work with, and asking people who work with those specifically, if you can. For example, occasionally I serve as our second person to work the big cats - we have a two lock system so you can't accidentally let the lions out if you're cleaning in their yard, kind of thing. And I love our lions, and our snow leopards, but also... they're enormous, and terrifying, and sometimes uncooperative as anything. They're cool! But not an animal I'd want to work with every day.

General pros and cons:

Cons:

Pay :/ the mcdonalds I drive past every day would pay me a solid $3 more an hour. And probably give me paid time off.

You will work weekends and holidays. I've worked every holiday for the last two years.

Culture - so here's the thing. Zookeepers, as a group, are people who went individually in their lives "Hey i really suck at people skills. I know! I'll work with animals instead!" and then you put all of them together in the same room with animals they're emotionally invested in. Petty office drama, toxic management, and other such problems are common. We skew leftist and queer but that doesn't mean we have conflict resolution skills.

You are very, very, very likely to end up moving states at least once in your career.

pros:

No two days are ever the same. there's always something new to learn, some new problem to solve, something you all have to pull together and help with. Whether that be relocating an alligator, unloading a frozen meat delivery, a news crew hanging around, or something else, there's always something to change up the day.

The work you're doing never feels like a perpetual motion machine - it always has meaning to it. Everything you do benefits an animal you probably know personally, by name. You get to share those stories, those individuals, with the visitors who stop and ask; if you're lucky, they might go home and learn more about those animals. We all thrive by the concept of "You protect what you care about; you care about what you know; you know about what you are taught". Did I know kori bustards existed before I worked with them? no. Do I care now, and I'm glad to know they're no longer poached for fly fishing bait thanks to (i think) CITES in the 80s and 90s? You bet I do they're wonderful animals.

Your life, the everyday mundanity of it, becomes something that other people will always consider you the most interesting person in the room for. I don't get to work with said lynx very often anymore, due to staffing changes and whatnot, but every morning like clockwork Carson would meet you at the fence and follow you right along it to the den, because he knew you had his breakfast. It felt mundane, after a while, but it's always worth the moment of acknowledging "wow I actually get to hang out with some lynx today. That's pretty cool."

Hopefully this actually answers your question lol. It's not something I'd trade for anything, but I don't want to paint it as a world full of snuggling wolf puppies and rainbows and sunshine, because it's not that, either. It's sometimes grueling, frustrating, bitter work, full of frustrations about budgets and supplies and not having enough hours in the day. But then you go and you hang out with the giraffes for a couple minutes, and that in itself is wonderfully grounding.

so yeah. Hope this helps!

[saviorbook]

Valentine's Day

Yo, it's the last day of @fransweek!!! As always, this was super fun. On this, the final day, I give you another fluff filled story. Enjoy!

Normally, Valentine’s Day has chocolates, flowers, and lovey dovey mush. This year, Valentine’s Day was going to be full of adrenaline. They had everything planned: skydiving, zip lining, roller coasters. They had the next month booked with travel plans, all dedicated to celebrating their recent engagement. Unfortunately, a blizzard ruined all of their plans.

“Hey, the weather looks pretty bad. Have you called the airport today?” Frisk looked out the window to see a thick blanket of clouds covering the sky and a thick blanket of snow that was only getting thicker.

“yeah, i just got off the phone with them. we’re grounded until further notice.” Frisk groaned before burying her face in her hands.

“That’s great. I only had the days off if we were on the plane today. I’m going to get called in tomorrow.” She let out an aggravated breath, and Sans placed a gentle hand on her back.

“ah, chin up. let’s face it, neither of us would’ve lasted a week without going to work, let alone a month. i guess this is just the universe confirming it. in the meantime, we don’t have to let today go to waste. we woke up really early, so we have all day to do whatever we want. I’ve always wanted to try painting, and you happen to be really good at it, so...” She shook her head and turned to face him with a large smile.

“Okay, challenge accepted. I’ll go get my painting stuff.” When she disappeared around the corner to go to their room, Sans started to clear a spot to set up the canvases, a grin plastered to his face.

They spent a few hours just painting and goofing off. Paint ended up everywhere, and neither could stop busting a seam. Sans had splatters of paint on his forehead and clothes, and Frisk had smears of the stuff on her cheeks and in her hair. After they had wound down a little, they started to make lunch together.

“what are you thinking for lunch, sunshine?” Frisk blushed a little at the pet name.

“Well, it’s not like we’ve been grocery shopping in a while. We were prepared to be gone for a month, so I was thinking Ramen. It’s pretty much the only thing we have in the house.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“sounds perfect, starlight.” She blushed again as he bent down to pull out a small pot from the cabinet.

“What’s gotten into you today? It’s weird to hear so many pet names come from you.” He glanced over to her with pot in his hand.

“i can stop if you want me to. i just thought, it’d be nice. plus, i have a backlog of them, so i can go at this all day. if you want, you can even pick your favorite one, darling.” She snorted a little before shaking her head and grabbing the pot from him.

“Okay, you can keep going. Just, never call me ‘darling’ again.” He gave a mini salute and pulled the Ramen packets out of hiding. (Papyrus was going to house sit for them, and stars help them if he found out about what noodles they were eating.)

“i one hundred percent understand, dearie.” She scoffed at that one as she put the water in the pot and put it one stove.

“Okay, ‘dearie’ is also a no go. Please refrain from using the pre-established pet names of our friends. I can’t handle it.” Sans look only grew more mischievous when she turned her back to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her as he put the noodles in the pot.

“well, i would never want you to be upset with me, human. i love you too much for that, punk.” He could feel her tense in his grip.

“I hate you.” She couldn’t hold back her laughter as she started to stir everything together.

“ohhhh, that’s why you’re wearing that ring. i see...” He spun her around quickly, cutting off her giggling by kissing her.

“Sans, the food...” He chuckled before letting her continue, and when the noodles were done, they went to the living room to eat together.

“so, what do we do next, snookums?” Frisk rolled her eyes, before crawling over to the drawers under the TV.

“How about, I kick your butt in some video games, Snookums?” She raised a brow as she held up two controllers.

“all right, berry boo. you’re on.” Frisk cracked up as she put a fighting game in the console.

“Where do you keep getting these?” Sans shrugged as he picked his character.

“a website. i was going to tease you with a bunch of them over the course of the month we were supposed to be gone, but today works, and there were a few i actually like. i will admit that ‘snookums’ and ‘berry boo’ weren’t the ones I liked, but seeing your face was pretty fun.” Frisk rolled her eyes as she picked her character and proceeded to beat Sans at every match.

Eventually, dinner started to roll around, and neither of them knew what they were going to do. The blizzard was still going on, so no one was doing delivery. They couldn’t ask any of their friends for help, since everyone was snowed in. It was kind of a mess.

“how much do you want to bet that we have a can of chicken in the cupboard, dumpling?” Frisk rolled her eyes for must have been the hundredth time.

“It can’t hurt to look. Right, Moonbeam?” Sans swallowed thickly before turning on his heels in order to look for the can, his face a bright blue.

“i found it, cupcake.” Frisk laughed a little before showing him the canned beans and tomatoes she had found.

“Funky chili, my precious jewel?” Sans let out a deep breath before grabbing a pot to throw everything into.

“you weren’t supposed to join in on the pet names, tater tot.” She slid her arms around him.

“Why not, Buttercup?” She could feel him shiver against her as started to put everything in the pot.

“i wanted you to be the flustered one, for once. you joining in, isn’t keeping me from being flustered, angel.” She buried her face into his back before laughing a little.

“I’m sorry. I won’t participate anymore. All the pet names are yours to use.” He stiffened before turning himself around.

“i didn’t mean it like that. i actually don’t want you to stop. i like hearing you say them, love.” She blushed again before clearing her throat.

“Which one is your favorite, hon?” He smiled at her softly before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“i think ‘moonbeam’ is my favorite. i like hearing it from you. i don’t think i’d like it in public, but this is nice, our more intimate moments.” She smiled back at him.

“All right, ‘Moonbeam’ it is. I really liked ‘Starlight.’ I think it’s better for in private, but I wouldn’t mind if you called me ‘Love’ at any time.” He chuckled before agreeing to her terms and turned back to finish dinner.

Once they finished eating dinner, they settled down to watch a movie and both fell asleep. It wasn’t what they had planned for their Valentine’s Day, but it was one that neither would forget.

[thebugthatlivesinyourbed]

So I now have the confidence to post oc stuff that isn’t connected to any other universe this all just came from my tiny little brain and this whole Netflix series that I came up with that I still don’t have the guts to make a whole damn comic cuz it a lot of work, but I still might do it idk

Yeah I’m gonna introduce one oc and just prey people don’t think it’s cringe

And is it ok that I put her ethnicity? Idk just let me know if it isn’t

Anyways this is Mia

Info:

Full name: Miriam Grimmins (duh)

Age: 15

Species: Human

Ethnicity: Chinese

Height: 5’3

Headcannon Voice: Leah Lewis (the girl who voices Ember in elemental)

Yays: The Goth aesthetic, Punk Music, jet ski-ing, gardening fruits and vegs with dads (she has 2 dads), sketching and painting, pink and black, horror films

Nays: art block, keeping secrets, feeling excluded, not being taken seriously, shoveling snow (she live in a snowy area) sleep paralysis, loud noises, the pain it took to get the nose piercings, shaky hands

Personality: introverted, sensitive, mature, caring (at times) brave, carful, selfless, emotional, secretive, hesitant at times, negative at times

So when’s there’s oc’s at least some of them got trauma

Just incase tw: death cuz death can be a hard topic for some people so just skip this part if u don’t wanna here about it

So her mom died in a car accident, she was in it too which left Mia with permanent nerve damage, then also lead her to believe it was her fault the accident happened when it really wasn’t. I’m not gonna go into to much detail right now about it maybe for another post when I get into other oc’s backstory with hers included, srry it was short

ok please tell me if I did something wrong so I can fix it anyways that’s Mia

Have a great day

[lonespektr]

Oct 30th Glorious

Ryan already lost his pants and is...in a void

Ok sleeping while driving

Very dangerous pull over good job

Located pants

You supposed to nap real quick though bro not get out

Enter creepy old plot twist its a lady this time

She has tiny not quite origami creatures and knows the trick to the old ass vending machine

Weird psychedelic flower out front

His ?? Worldly possessions in the back of the car

Very dramatic whhyyyyy regarding a stuffed bear

Apparently someone/thing off world heard him

Calling the ex again down bad having a break down

He is at least aware of his melodrama

Annnd whisky

Drunk decisions bon fire with ....brendas? Stuff

At the rest stop friend has been here for HOURS now and no one else has stopped

He also hasn't napped

Passing out drunk

Psychdelics

Pants gone

Burned them while drunk

Vomit oclock

This soundtrack is really trying to be a main character here it's not bad but if it is THAT invasive they should just go full Helix

......continued Internet difficulties 😐😐😐😐

The glory hole finally

It's got a Cthulhu type painting with a naked lady with a worm head

JK Simmons is being very pleasant and odd as in nice but asking very basic questions that should be obvious

Ryan (was) finally realizes he can't actually see the person in the bathroom the shadow/poor lighting just happens to fall so that no like ya know ...feet are visible below

After some ridiculous conversations and the occupant of the stall stating his is a god or at least a demi god

And tries to look into the glory hole

To obvious results you can't gaze upon the face of god and he had an episode which included a flash back of his ex and passed out

Naturally he tried to escape and now he is locked in

Has yet another freak out

Looks outside and there's psychedelic pink shit outside the gods who has a weird old name says he trapped until an undetermined amount of time

Now he's trying to escape through an air vent as jk Simmons rambles on pontificating

The universe has a favor to ask

Ryan is trying to escape now the only way he can disassociating and giving out with his ex

J.k. Simmons made his ears bleed to cause him to focus

So he can tell his back story, a bigger god thoughts accidentally began to take shape and he didn't like that very much so he thought another thought...destruction

My destruction doesn't want to be destruction, he thinks humanity is pretty sweet not interested in being the destroyer of worlds

Here comes the glory hole joke

There's a Cthulu appendage coming out of it

The property manager came to check the facility and jk Simmons traps him in there too and manages to fulfill the black man dies first rule of horror films rip dude you were an asshole

The soundtrack is putting in work

Blood rains down like fresh snow to a heavenly chorus

Brenda has game as she is decidedly neither tall nor blonde I would go to say specifically coded as simetic heritage

You have to suck Cthulhu cock to save the universe

The glory hole is glowing with heavenly light

annd Ryan sticks his -the audacity

Men so homophobic won't even do anonymous gay shit with an alien to save the universe

Jk (pun intended) he needs his liver (smol piece)

Points for the jk saying you really thought your penis was going to save the universe

Ryan doesn't want to give up his liver - via fragmented bathroom mirror shard

And now he's ranting about a shit dad

The rest stop is coming undone the universe is bleeding through

Break down number 3 in which Ryan starts yelling out into the cosmos for popa

Uh oh busted papa space god is here

Now he's threatening to steal his ryans memories well I mean he's illustrating the macro

Jesus all that for a girl you known for two months YIKES 😬😬😬 down bad

Literally was gonna ask he just knows...where his liver is? And how's he going to extract it without passing out from the pain

Creepy box of frightened women like at least 14

Plot twist he's a serial killer?

Who does a months long fake relationship? Them murders???

Yeah man rough.... Don't fall in love with your murder marks

They actually showed the monster

I mean the clue was there, your deeply misogynistic dad offs your mom that's grade A serial killer building blocks

Did they think we needed a bad guy to explain to excuse the self mutilation? It was fine enough he was a douche bag

They just wanted to explain why he was picked

Not special as in chosen one but unique as in especially shitty and this is a double suicide because we are both terrible

To quote jk exactly

We are both beings of pure destruction

[thatblackravenclaw]

The Date

Blog Details + My Library

Neville Longbottom x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

warning(s): fluff, cursing, smut-ish, dry humping-ish, not proofread

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.

I can’t believe I agreed to another blind date. Tiffany owes me a lifetime of Cauldron Cakes if this doesn’t work out. The last time I went to one of these, she set me up with Justin Finch of all people and all he did was talk about himself. I just drank Butterbeer until he become barely. The date finally ended about two, agonizing hours later. As soon as we got back in the castle, we went our separate ways and I have not talked to him since.

Now, I’m sitting in Madam Puddifoot’s, in a corner, ten minutes early, trying to guess who my mystery date is. Tiff knows pretty much everyone at Hogwarts so it could be anybody really, but she only dates tools so I doubt it’ll be anyone good.

Five minutes go by before I hear the bell above the front door ring. It’s Neville. He looks a bit nervous. This is honestly the last place I thought I would see him. It’s not a very crowded place, so it’s good for an introverted person like him, but it’s a bit.. girly for him. But since he’s here, I can’t help but admire him. He’s gotten taller since we first got to university. He towers over a good amount of people at school. Even some of the professors.

His eyes wander around the room as if he’s looking for someone. Considering the only single person in here is me, I’m guessing that I’m his date. I get up from the table and walk over to him. His height is definitely intimidating up close, but his shyness makes it less intimidating.

“Hi Neville,” I say as gently as possible. I guess it works since I can visibly see him relax.

“Hi y/n,” He says not quite at a normal tone, but not a whisper either.

“I guess I’m your date,” A small smile wipes on my face. He nods his head, and we walk to where I was sat.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I ordered an herbal tea. That alright?” I ask as we sit down. He nods his head again and I nod in acknowledgement.

It’s quiet for a bit before Madam Puddifoot comes back with our tea.

“Anything else for you dearies?” I look over at him to see if he wants anything.

“Ginger Newts? Please?” She warmly smiles at him and toddles to the back. The quietness takes over again. I reach a hand over and hold his.

“You don’t have to be nervous Nev. It’s just me.” His eyes soften and he lets out an exhale.

“Y-You’re actually the prettiest girl in our grade.” My smile can’t help but widen at getting a full sentence out of him.

“Only in our grade? Damn, looks like I gotta aim for prettiest in the school.” He smiles at that, and we drink our tea.

The conversation goes smoothly after that. He loosened up. Even started telling some jokes. I laughed so hard that people started looking over in our corner. We would just shush each other and continue laughing. As we finished the tea and Ginger Newts, we decided to go walk around outside. The snow hasn’t hit us quite yet, so the weather is bearable. I learned that he loves Herbology. He has almost every type of plant at his house. He learned that I had a crush on him from our 1st to our 3rd year. The time went by fast. Too fast.

We barely make curfew as we stumble in. Our laughing turns into hushed tones, but smiles stay upon our faces.

“Do you want to come to my room? I think Harry and Ron said something about going to Hagrid’s and Dean and Seamus snuck off somewhe-“

“Are you trying to get me into your bed Neville?” My tone is teasing, but his face still turns red.

“No! No! I just thought-“

“You’re okay Neville. Let’s go. I’ve always been curious as to what boy’s dorm rooms look like.” I take his hand and lead him to Gryffindor tower. The walk isn’t long. That’s a lie, it’s very long. Especially with all the steps, but being with him made it go by faster. We continued talking, kind of loudly, while the painting looked at us with disdain.

There aren’t many people in the common room. A few stragglers. Dean and Seamus are there, but they’re so wrapped up in each other that they don’t even notice Neville and I walking upstairs. He opens the door and sure enough we’re the only ones there. I walk all the way in and take a look around. It looks a bit different than the girls dorms. It also smells a bit different than the girls dorm. I can tell the one in the middle is Harry’s. Seems fitting as he’s “the chosen one”. Whatever that means. I look back and see Neville standing next to a bed.

“I’m assuming this one is yours?”

He nods.

“Wanna sit?”

He nods again. I walk over and sit down while he’s unmoving.

“Nev, I thought we got over the shyness?” I pat the spot next to me and wait for him to sit down. Once he does, I hold his hands and look at him.

“Have you ever been with a girl Neville?” He shakes his head no. I lift a hand to his cheek and look into his eyes.

“Do you want to?” He doesn’t say anything. Almost like he’s frozen.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do anything, but if you do, I need a verbal answer.”

“I,” he clears his throat, “I do.” I smile and lean in closer to him. My nose lightly bumps his before I peck his lips. I lean back to assess how he’s feeling. His eyes are still close, and his lips are slightly puckered, stuck in this kiss. I chuckle and lean back in. I reconnect our lips and at that moment swear that I will study every day as long as I get kiss Neville for the rest of my life. He says he’s never been with a girl but the way his lips move against mine tell me differently.

My legs straddle his lap, and my hands move down to the side of his neck. I can tell he’s hesitant to do anything else, so I help him by wrapping his arms around my waist. His arms tighten around me, bringing up closer. I move a bit to settle on his lap and feel a slight bulge meet my clothed core. Our lips momentarily part, but not by much. He groans against my lips and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds to ever reach my ears.

I kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He shudders underneath me which motivates me more. I remove myself from his lap and stand up. My top is first to go. His eyes are darkened as they stare at my figure. I raise my blouse slowly above my head. Only left in my lilac lace bra, I slowly unbuckle the belt to my jeans. I move them down my thighs and they fall down to my feet, revealing the matching panties.

“You gonna leave me half-naked by myself?” I tease. He gets up and takes his clothes off in record time. I try not to laugh so I don’t ruin the moment, but the way he almost trips on his trousers has me smiling to myself.

I take my place back on his lap and roll my hips against his crotch. My lips reconnect to his neck, and I kiss around until I find what I’m looking for.

“Fuck me,” I hear escape his lips.

Found it.

I suck on it while continuing to roll my hips. His noises become whimpers which goes straight down to my pussy.

“Can we- fuck. Can we try something?” I nod my head yes while slowing down my motions. His hands take a hold of my hips and bring me to a complete stop. I whimper at the loss of friction. My eyes move with the motion of his hands. He pulls his dick from his briefs and moves my panties to the side. He runs a finger through my folds and collects my slick, groaning at the feeling. He takes his finger and rubs it over his tip. It’s my turn to groan. I think I know what his idea was.

I wait until he moves his finger to place my pussy right on his shaft. He closes his eyes and I take the chance to place my lips on his. His arms take their rightful place back around my waist and I continue rocking my hips. His tip brushes up against my clit and I can’t help but to moan into his mouth. I rock a bit faster, and I feel him throbbing underneath me. I pull back reluctantly to catch a breath and his lips chase after mine. I’m embarrassed to admit how much that one simple thing turned me on. One more hip roll and my orgasm unexpectedly washes over me. I shudder and collapse into his figure but don’t stop. The overstimulation has me moaning in his ear. His hips start to roll up and meet mine. His soft moaning turns becoming louder, mixing with mine. His hold tightens and then his hips shudder to a stop. The sound he makes, makes me want to go a second round.

He loosens his hold and I look down in between us. His cum is still coming out in spurts. The sight alone should be in a porno. I take my index finger and swipe a bit of cum. My eyes close as the tanginess hits my tongue. The sound of the doorknob makes us turn our heads in sync. I reach over for my wand and close his curtains around us.

“Who’s been fucking in here? Damn!” Dean exclaims from the doorway. I hide my face in Neville’s neck as we silently laugh.

[embe95]

It's Flirting!

Lee Minho drabble, yey <3 I just had an idea and went with it, had a lot of fun, so much so that it is currently 2.30am and I should be asleep.

Word count: 3,413 (whooooooops)

I really want to be where she is, just be close. Maybe even ask her out properly? Would she want me to?

I haven’t heard from her in days.

And suddenly I’m worried that I may have done something or said something that could have offended or hurt her. That maybe I went too far with a joke or made her feel uncomfortable.

That maybe I’ve read it all completely wrong and she doesn’t feel the same way in the slightest. That maybe she hates me. That she’s already secretly married to someone and just hasn’t told any of us.

”Calm. The fuck. Down,” I growl, throwing my phone against the couch. I hear it bounce and hit the carpet at the exact moment Chan comes out of his room.

”You good?”

”Mmm,” I voice a somewhat dissatisfied sounding consonant and keep my head in my hands.

”Minho?”

”She still hasn’t answered.” The sentence is almost inaudible but he catches it like a pro.

”Dude, it’s a group chat, she’s probably busy.”

Chan heads to the fridge and apparently grabs the carton of OJ, because the next thing I hear is probably heard by everyone who lives in the building.

”AGAIN? JISUNG I SWEAR TO GOD!”

A door locks at the end of the hallway.

”Why does he do this? Jesus… fucking empty. Every time…”

”You know he’ll buy two just to say sorry.”

”Yeah, yeah…”

I blow air out of my nose and toss him the half full banana milk I just drank from.

My phone still doesn’t buzz. Did I break it? No, surely not. Why isn’t she answering?

”Thanks. Like I was saying, she’s probably just busy. You gotta message her directly. Don’t count on the group chat, she isn’t that active on there anyway.”

He’s right. But I won’t tell him that. I can’t text her.

I stare out the window at the wintery city. The frame kinda makes all of it look like a painting; the snow fall dilutes and blurs all lines and makes things softer and more abstract. She’s probably having hot chocolate at the university library, maybe from her cat-themed thermos. Maybe she decided to splurge a little and got a fancy Starbucks salted caramel version.

I want to buy her hot chocolate every day. If only she would text me.

”You think she’s at the library?”

Chan’s brows furrow as he stares back at me. The look seems to be something along the lines of ”you’re creepy” and ”how the hell should I know”.

”Never mind. Jisung!”

My friend’s massive head of black hair is visible before anything else, then his eyes peek from behind the frame.

”Huh?”

Chan takes the opportunity to chuck the empty orange juice carton at the figure, who throws his hands up haphazardly. It does nothing to block the attack so the inevitable happens and it collides with his torso.

”YA! I’m sorry, I’ll get more when I go out!”

Our eldest roommate says nothing, just points a finger at Mr. Han Jisung with such vigor that even his nostrils flare.

”Did you need me?” Jisung’s scared eyes find me, the corners of his mouth rise nervously.

I’m happy I remembered to buy the milk I promised.

Why isn’t she answering?

”Yeah, have you talked to Y/N today?”

He cocks a brow and nods, slowly, hesitantly.

”Yeeees…” One word becomes as long as a sentence as his lips begin to curl up into a smirk. ”Whyyyyy?”

I didn’t think asking him would make him stare at me like this. It’s an innocent question isn’t it?

”Minho and Y/N sitting in a tree…” Chan’s soft mumbling is accompanied by a little dance, his arms swing back and forth, elbows bent.

I’m pretty sure my ears are as pink as his hoodie and I don’t like it.

”Shut up!”

”K-I-S-I-N-G-G… wait…” Jisung mumbles but I can’t see the face that is joined with Chan’s amused bark because my eyes are rolling.

”Never mind.”

”Man, sorry, sorry! Okay. Yeah, I talked to her, she’s at the library getting ready for next week’s exam.”

I knew it. My eyes find the window again. I should study too, probably, I mean… there’s gotta be something I need to read books for.

Why do I suddenly feel like going out into that mess of a weather? Getting all dressed up, throwing on layer upon layer, and I probably need to change, these sweats won’t do. Why am I just out of the blue feeling like I should head to the nearest Starbucks for some salted caramel hot chocolate? It’s because of her. I want to be where she is right now. I’ve wanted it for weeks.

Is it a bad idea? Would she want me there even though she hasn’t reacted to any of my messages in the group chat today?

She wouldn’t care if I wear sweats when I walk in, she doesn’t care about what people wear. She’d say she just wants me to be comfortable. But maybe she wouldn’t care if I came or not.

”Why do you ask?”

Chan and Jisung are both staring at me. I’m usually pretty sensitive to people’s attention but maybe I was traveling too far in my mind.

”I just… well I figured she was- I just wanted to see if- I mean maybe I could-”

”Want me to dial for you while you struggle to the end of that sentence?”

”You think I should call her?”

Jisung is obviously confused by the question which did indeed come out way more enthusiastic than I intended.

He had probably been preparing for a punch, a glare or some common form of my affection.

”Y-Yeah dude, if you want to, sure. Or you could just go surprise her,” he shrugs. As if he’d read my mind. As if it’s the easiest thing in the world. For him it probably feels like it, his track record with charming gestures is undefeated.

”That’s a great idea man!” Chan chimes in with his two cents after finishing the banana milk. ”But Minho, you gotta be nice.”

”Huh?”

”You act like… how should I put this… you act like a baby around her?”

”What?”

How can he say that, what is he on about? I mean… I can’t say I act totally normal right now, it’s hard to when she’s always smiling and laughing and hugging and breathing and dancing and sitting on my lap and flipping her hair around. And breathing.

”What the fuck does that mean?”

Chan looks down and crinkles his nose.

”I mean no offense man, it’s just that if you want to go have a romantic library date, you might want to- I don’t know- try not to snap at her so much?”

Snap? I don’t… do I? I mean I joke around and all but… Have I done or said something that actually offended her? Maybe I went too far with a joke. Or made her feel uncomfortable.

I’m right back to where I started. My brain is doing loops. Fuck.

Of course she doesn’t want to answer my texts. Why would she? If I’ve been a dick then… Fuck!

Jisung comes closer, at first I think he’s going to come hug me or something but instead he slumps onto the couch. Chan leans on the kitchen island situated behind the large, grey furniture.

The younger of the two looks deep in thought, like he’s reminiscing. ”Mmm… He does have point.”

There’s a flow of negativity in the room suddenly and I need them to specify their claims quickly and clearly, a request I then voice.

”I mean, yeah, you joke with all of us and we love you for it…”

”But maybe with Y/N it just gets a little…”

”Childish?” Chan’s voice is overly high and gentle, like a child confessing to a stupid thing they did.

It's like his words press the rewind button on a tape of all the moments I've shared with her. I see it all. What goes on in my head doesn't match what comes out. She sits on my lap, and I feel like I want to pull her closer and smell her hair. The weight feels comforting, I'm close enough to gently kiss her neck. Instead, I complain about how heavy she is. She comes to our house to watch movies and brings me my favorite soda. I feel like she knows me and it makes me feel... well, really touched actually, I don't even remember telling her about it. Instead, I ask why she didn't bring any chips. We dance together at the club downtown. It's like the twentieth song and neither of us has left the dance floor while everyone around us has come and gone thrice over. She moves so smoothly, looks so alive and anytime she grabs my hand to do a spin under my arm or so spin around with me I feel so electric and happy. Dancing with her feels easy, and I wish she'd let me take her home. Instead, I ask her why she keeps stepping on my toes. She slumps down next to me at the café, leaning her head on my shoulder and tells me how exhausted she is after a bad day. Her hair smells amazing and I love how warm she is. I'm sorry she feels tired. I want to take her hand in mine and run my hand through that perfect head of hair, to tell her I'm here. Instead, I tell her not to look at me like that and that maybe her bad day was caused by that ugly hoodie she's wearing.

Of course she doesn't want to answer my texts! I wouldn't either.

"It's okay, man! I just mean that maybe if you really wanna make a move-"

"No," I say softly and stare back outside. The snow is falling even harder now, the day turns into evening as the sun begins to set somewhere behind the thick cloud cover. "You're right. I've been an ass."

"I didn't say you've been-"

"I don't think she'd want to hang out alone. I'll just see her tomorrow at the club like always."

When I make my way to the kitchen, hands already reaching for the coffee pot to brew some evening joe since I won't be heading out after all, a pair of strong hands grab my shoulders and spin me around. I don't like it when Hyung manhandles me.

"Minho, that is not what I meant. I don't even mean that you have to stop joking around, I just mean that you should be sincere for a bit, and then you can go right back to it. I don't think you'll get out of being 'just friends' if you're not honest."

I don't like it when he's right either.

After a brief conversation with the two which included me stating out loud that I have a crush on Y/N for the first time, I ask Jisung to check how long she'd be at library. He's happy to, since he's such a sucker for surprises. He wants to join me so he can see the look on her face, but I've never really had a problem saying no to Jisung. Or anyone, really, except Y/N. I then get changed, throw on my hoodie, a coat, some boots and a beanie, and I'm ready. Almost, I still need two salted caramel hot chocolates, one in each hand.

Lucky for me, there's a Starbucks around practically every corner. I choose to head for the one closest to the library, so our drinks will stay warm.

Then the lump in my throat swells and nearly blocks my breathing. How did this become so momentous? It isn't a date, I'm just bringing her some hot chocolate. She might not even want it. She might have left already, changed her mind about staying late. Am I nervous because of what my roommates made me realize? Could I be walking into something that'll make me cringe for the rest of my existence? This feels very new and terrifying. I should just forget about this and head back inside.

But I want to see Y/N. I really do.

And I don't really even have to make tonight anything special. It doesn't have to become "the night that Minho confessed" or whatever. We can just hang out. I can help her with her revision and just sit next to her as she reads. That's creepy. But she looks so beautiful when she concentrates, like a majestic being asked to solve a complex riddle. Her eyes get all cat-like, narrow and glowing.

But maybe... Maybe she doesn't want me there and I'll just bother her.

I don't know how I ended up inside the elevator taking me to the study rooms on the third floor of the university library, but here I am. All this thinking blurred out my steps and direction but somehow... here I am. Standing in the quiet, student-filled space that is quite foreign to me, but very familiar to the person I am here to see.

Focusing my gaze, I play the real-life "Where's Waldo?" in the huge space. I'm slightly embarrassed to be staring at people so bluntly because they all seem so focused, but then again, I don't really care.

Then suddenly, I see a hand moving. It's a frantic wave and my brain skips every step and jumps straight to what I know to be true; it's Y/N. The glass door of the small study room she's in opens and she tiptoes towards me. It's like I'm doing a full body scan, the way my eyes stay on her. She looks happy, her smile is wide and her steps are accompanied by excited hands.

"Oh my gosh! Hi!" she whisper yells.

She might actually be happy to see me. Hoodie-clad arms are around my neck before I can register a thing, and my heart rate skyrockets. The embrace is tight. Her embrace always is. And she skipped the hot chocolates in my hands, she didn't even look at them.

"What are you doing here? Wait, wait. Come here," she grabs my arm and gently guides us back between all the tables, couches and chairs to the room she'd just exited. 

When the door is closed, I hear it. Silence. Not the kind outside in the general study hall where you can hear a pin drop and the creek of a chair echoes for fifteen minutes. The kind that takes sound and swallows it. This room is-

”It’s a soundproof room so don’t worry, it’s okay to talk!” she says as if she’s a kettle that’s just begun to boil. ”But Min, what are you doing here? Oh, is one of these for me?”

No, dumbass, they’re both for me.

”Y-Yes, I thought you might like it,” I gulp, handing one to her.

”That is so sweet, thank you!” Her smile just makes all my cells dance. ”I’m just so surprised and happy you’re here, I wasn’t even sure you knew where the library was!”

What? You saying I don’t read?

”We walked you here with Jisung last week.”

Forehead crinkled, she takes a slow, calculated, sip of the hot chocolate. Whatever she was staring at me for was apparently forgotten when the liquid hit her tongue. ”You remembered!”

You like it? I just got you the same thing I got for myself, don’t read into it.

”Yeah. Uh- what are you studying for?”

”Minho, is everything alright?”

”Mhmm, why?”

She stares again, but says nothing.

”Come sit here. I have this big exam next week and…”

I sit next to her as she goes through the topic. I’m so immersed in her voice and the way the grey hoodie frames her face that I barely half-listen, yet I’m interested in everything she tells me.

”Did you come here just to see me?” she finishes after saying she’s happy I’m there but that she has to keep going for at least a little bit more.

Of course not, I’m here to play volleyball.

”I thought maybe you’d like the company.”

She’s silent for a moment, again.

”Okay… well, you’re right. It’s good to see you. As always.”

We stay quiet as she stares at me. I want to believe that she did look at my lips, but I dare not hope. 

”Wanna quiz me? I just got through chapter seven.”

I do.

She’s so intelligent and enthusiastic about the topic. She gets a few wrong and goes back through her notes expertly, reads for a few minutes and then we get back to it.

I have never, ever had this much fun with a book. I scan through the pages, mind on the amazing person next to me. I hope I’ve been kind, I’m pretty proud of the way I’ve held my tongue. Maybe tonight could be the night I tell her how I feel.

”You’re so good at this, it’s amazing.”

”Okay, that’s it, what is up with you tonight?”

What is this annoyed tone? What happened?

”Huh?”

”Is something wrong? Are you mad at me? Has something happened that you’re not telling me?”

”W-wha- No! Why would you think that?”

”Then why are you being cold?”

Cold? Now I’m ”cold”? This can’t be right, the guys said… what is she talking about?

I set the book down and turn to face her. Her features seem agitated, tight. It scares me a little. It annoys me more.

”What are you on about?”

”’You’re so good at this’… ’here you go’… ’there you are’… ’it’s okay’… ’me and Jisung walked you here last week’… what the heck was that? Of course I remember? But who are you and where is my Minho?”

”Y-Your Min-”

”Yes! My Minho, I want him back!”

”You’re acting so weird. What do you mean?”

As she explains the tape rewinds again. She sits on my lap and I complain about how heavy she is. She asks if I mean it and I get up without letting go of her, flipping her so I’m holding her bridal style. I squat a few times and shake my head. She comes to our house and brings me my favourite soda and I ask why she didn’t bring chips. She pokes out her tongue and pulls a bag of them out of her tote bag  and I have to wrestle her for them, after which I get her favourite soda from the fridge and bring it to her. We dance together at the club downtown and I ask why she keeps stepping on my toes. She then proceeds to step on my toes (for the first time that night) and asks what I want to drink next. She slumps down next to me after a bad day and leans her head on my shoulder. She bursts out laughing when I slander her hoodie because it’s in fact mine. Without another word I offer her sips of my hot chocolate for the rest of the night, and when it's finished I go buy another one.

And she wanted to answer my messages. She was just busy (and Chan was right again but I don’t want to think about that).

”And another thing! I haven’t considered you ”just a friend” in weeks so Chan and Jisung can just take their Tiktok psychology tips elsewhere and stop messing with us!”

I have to shake my head to rattle that sentence around. Make it make sense.

”It’s called flirting! And another thing-”

”You talk too much.”

”What?”

I lean closer quickly, grinning. Our knees touch. I make my intention, my hope for what will happen next crystal clear by cupping her cheek.

”Can you just shut up for a second if this means you don’t think I’ve been a dick to you?”

She’s silent, again. Her eyes are darting between my eyes and lips, the words she wants to say travel to her gaze easily.

And then I kiss her. This just became "the night we kissed for the first time", which is more than I could've ever hoped for. She's so perfect.

”You are a dick, though. I never said that,” she smirks as I let my lips travel between her cheeks and mouth. "And you're overdressed, the dress code for study dates with me is sweats."

That night, as we travel hand in hand back to my place, the fierceness I knew accompanied her kind heart was more visible than ever. She doesn’t wait for me to fully open the door to the apartment.

The wooden rectangle flies open with force and hits the wall as Y/N bursts in.

”YOU TWO! You ever try to get him to ’tone it down’ or whatever the fuck the advice was, I’ll make sure your fridge will always be full of nothing but empty orange juice cartons!”

[newtonsheffield]

Molly! So many damn questions about the little women au! What's Anthony's point of view? Why did he flee to the continent? Why doesn't he know kate loves him? Why was he pushed to edwina? So glad edwina in this universe is true to book edwina!!!!

Wait i want more of the little women au.

Hmm…I can already feel myself getting too attached to this AU But let’s see Anthony’s point of view

Part 1

He hated being back here. He hated it. The feelings of incompetence that rose up in him whenever he sat behind that damned desk were nearly choking him. And worse, every day he had to see her.

Kate Sharma, the girl he should have stopped looking at well before she blossomed into the beautiful woman she was now. The girl who made his chest ache and his pulse race whenever he saw her smiling at her sister. The girl who’d never be in love with him. She barely tolerated him, most days, rolling her eyes and nudging his feel until he sat properly, railing against any opinion she viewed as wrong. But he wasn’t meant for her. And apparently, he wasn’t meant for her sister either, no matter what anyone said.

And he’d known it had been wrong to propose to Edwina in the first place, he hadn’t wanted to marry her, but his Mother had decided, and hers had as well evidently. So he’d done it, he’d done the dutiful thing and proposed to the sister of the woman he was in love with. And she’d rejected him. And worse, she’d known that she wasn’t the one he’d wanted. So he’d left. Because what else could he do? Edwina would surely tell Kate, hell, Kate probably knew already and she’d said nothing.

But now he was back,

Now he’d watched Thomas Dorset fawn all over her.

now he’d stood in the library while she’d screamed at him, and she’d seen him for exactly who he was. And he’d hated her for it. Almost as much as he’d loved her when he’d crushed her against his chest, as his pulse pounded in his ears, and they'd moved together as one finally. A moan had risen in her throat, and he'd taken full advantage, swallowing it down, his tongue sliding over hers and-

She'd wrenched herself away from him, and whatever else she'd said, One thing had stuck in his mind.

I have spent my entire life loving you

The rest of her speech had settled against his skin.

Be yourself, or nothing at all

He'd sat for hours, until his head no longer felt fuzzy with drink, and his chest had stopped aching, and by the time he'd risen to dress for dinner, he'd known one thing:

If He couldn't be the man Kate would love anymore, if she'd never marry him: He would be a man she respected.

Anthony got up the next day, and dressed, and went about his affairs, talking with his steward, checking Gregory's latin, listening to Hyacinth play the piano. He tipped his hat when he saw Kate with Dorset in the street,

"Miss Sharma."

"Mr Bridgerton."

And then it happened, while Anthony was holding a toffee apple, like a bloody fool. Thomas Dorset got down on one knee in the middle of the county fair, ripping Anthony's heart from his chest, leaving him bleeding all over the grass.

"Kate Sharma, will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?"

Anthony couldn't bear to look, couldn't bear to see Edwina's knowing expression when her eyes flicked towards him, couldn't bear to listen as she said yes. But as he eyes caught with his over Dorset's shoulder, those deep dark pools he'd dreamed and dreamed of: He couldn't look away.

"No, Thomas, I'm so sorry."

And though it wasn't at all: It felt almost like a victory.

So now here he was: hiding a little from his family, and Kate, in the library, the Christmas party carrying on outside the doors.

The snow was falling in slow spirals outside the window, fluttering to the ground, painting the world brand new. And if he were a more whimsical man, we would've seen it as a sign.

The door flew open suddenly, noise rushing in with it, snapping his head from the window.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't realise you were- I'll just go!"

"Kate, stay. Get your book." He knew somehow, that that was what she would be doing. She had often snuck away from their parties, taking a book from their shelves to read later. Something about it made him smile.

They hadn't been alone together, not since the last time they were in this room, and nothing had changed, but somehow everything had.

Kate's hands twitched nervously, twisting in her skirts for a long moment, their eyes caught together before she nodded, ducking towards the shelves, her fingers running over the spines. Anthony couldn't stop staring at her, at the candlelight bouncing off her cheekbones, catching in her hair. She had always been so beautiful, even when she'd been fifteen, and he'd been just sixteen, desperately trying to pretend that the tightening in his chest wasn't love. Now at 23, he didn't see the point in lying.

"I'm sorry, about Thomas." He wasn't really, he just couldn't stand the silence between them any longer. Even when they'd been at their most petulant, their most spiteful: there'd never been any silence.

Kate turned towards him, her eyebrow raised, a scornful tut escaping her chest. "No, you aren't."

"No, I'm not." He stepped towards her, just a step, and just like always Kate stood her ground, her chin tilted defiantly towards him, though her eyes raked over his forearms, his coat abandoned, shirtsleeves rolled. "You didn't love him."

"I didn't. But perhaps I should have married him. Plenty of women don't love their husbands, they make do."

He took another step towards her, crowding her a little against the bookshelf, his chest nearly brushing hers as her shoulders heaved with her sharp intake of breath. "You deserve to be married to someone who loves you."

"And who's going to love me, Anthony?" There wasn't any hint of a laugh in her voice now, just her eyes burning against his. "You?"

"Yes." He pressed his forehead against hers, her sharp intake of breath against his skin, letting his eyelids flutter closed. "Tell me you want me to love you, and I promise, Kate, I'll do it for the rest of my life."

Part 3

[heyitsjay03]

Headcanons about each of the lords (+the Duke if you're writing about him) if they ever happen to adopt a little child?

THANK YOU ANON MY THE UNIVERSE BLESS YOU WITH PILLOWS THAT ARE COLD ON BOTH SIDES

okay okay okay okay this has definitely been on my mind so lets get into the thick of it

Alcina Dimitrescu

(im starting off with alcina for obvious reasons)

Alcina would be on the way to the church with the slimy moron, the demented doll, that disgusting manthing and Mother Miranda

She'd kiss her daughters goodbye and head off through the snow, quietly muttering about how cold her ankles were

while Moreau is literally up to his chin in snow but its fine

as she gets closer to the church she keeps hearing this. thing. it sounded familiar but she couldn't exactly put her finger on it.

she strays from the path to find it because it was just so familiar

as she weaves her way through the snow, her dress gets caught on something. she leans down to get her dress unstuck when she realises its this tiny basket.

like seriously. just a little woven basket in the middle of the snow. and it doesn't look like its been there for that long- there's hardly any snow on it

when she tugs at her skirts again, the basket makes the same noise she's been hearing

she stands back up to her full height, staring down at the basket with narrowed eyes

this cannot be a good idea, can it? opening a strange basket in the woods after being lured out here. it's probably some village manthing's trap.

she's about to step away when she hears the sound again- much more intense and much more clear

Alcina leans down and opens the lid of the basket

inside is this tiny thing- all soft and warm in a padding of blankets

a baby

she stands and looks around

who on earth would be so moronic as to leave their baby in the snow? it's much too cold for a baby to survive-

oh

she sighs, getting onto her knees to pull the baby from the blanketed basket

the meeting will have to wait. it's too cold even in the church for this tiny thing.

when she finally makes it back home, she's greeted by her daughters in a swarm of buzzing flies.

as they manifest in their true forms, they're asking what- or who, rather- their mother brought for dinner

Alcina smiles and shakes her head, unwrapping the small bundle clinging to her breast

"this... is your new sibling" she announces, "they'll be staying with us from now on."

and the sisters are ecstatic. a new sibling!

Daniela especially is happy that she is no longer the youngest. she usually is the one to parade around the castle with her sibling on her shoulders, showing them the coolest hiding spots for hide-n-seek and the windows with the best views

Bela is incredibly protective. like. incredibly.

she smelt blood from across the castle and when she found her little sibling sniffling about a skinned knee earned from a game of tag with Angie, she lost her shit and almost broke the damned thing with her sickle

And Cassandra has been caught reading bedtime stories by nightlight multiple times. she tries to play it off but everyone knows that she loves- absolutely adores- her newest sibling

we all know Alcina is such a wonderful mother to the girls so adding another baby to the mix was a guaranteed success

she's so doting and careful (a little overprotective at times but she means well) as she is with her girls

as the child grows into a teen, she panics a bit because "my beautiful baby is growing into such a beautiful, talented adult" so expect a lot of late night visits when she just sits on the edge of her bed and just admires how much you've grown

Salvatore Moreau:

now this one is an easy one too if i'm 100% honest

think Moses type beat

(if you don't know, Moses was found in the riverbank in a little basket)

apparently i really like baskets

anyways

Moreau was so out of his element when he found this tiny, screaming, writhing piece of soft flesh

the first few weeks were rough

but he eventually got the hang of it (with Alcina's help of course)

he would take his child fishing every now and then- just the two of them out on a boat for a few hours

the kid would literally swim more than walk and that little fact would make Moreau so freakin proud

also this kid would be so well-versed in movie and film history it's stupid

like expect this little 4 or 5 year old babbling not about toys or snow or how many sticks they found but instead about the copyright war over the film Nosferatu and the destruction of its copies

Moreau, as the child gets older (like 11 or 12) would have just a tad of trouble trying to keep the kid out of the village

he'd wake up one day and go out onto the lake, expecting his child to be swinging their legs off the dock and watching the sun rise over the water

and when he finds that they were not, in fact, swinging their legs off the dock and watching the sun rise over the water, he p a n i c s

i mean, full blown red alert

all of the lords are summoned to help Moreau look for his missing kid, the lycans are given an article of clothing to help find the scent, Mother Miranda goes to search the village herself- the whole shebang

and when the kid is found playing with the village children, Moreau bursts into tears

needless to say, the kid isn't allowed to go to the village anymore

until they're fifty (Moreau's words, of course)

but the kid sneaks off more and more as they get older, using Alcina or Donna or Karl as an excuse to be away

and Moreau knows but he never says a word

seeing his child happy and free with the kids their age makes him happy, even if he is a tad, a tad, a tad bit nervous

Donna Beneviento:

when Donna found this child huddled up against the base of the stairs leading up to her front door, she at first thought it was a doll of hers

it was only when she actually walked outside that she realised it was this shaking, shriveled child in tattered clothes

she spent a good five minutes just staring, wondering how on earth she's supposed to react

that's when Angie jumped in and pulled at her skirt, telling her to "let the kid inside, already!"

Donna went immediately to work on some clothes- why on earth were they wearing such ragged things?! it's freezing outside!- while Angie entertained in the parlour

honestly, it didn't go well

the kid was a little bit unsettled by the floating doll that moved and spoke on its own FOR GOOD REASON

and when Donna walked back in with her measurement tape and some fabric, the kid backed themselves into a corner of the room with their gangly legs tucked into their chest

Angie sighs from the opposite side of the room, letting her little feet fidget as she gestures to the kid. "they're no fun" she pouts, "wouldn't even let me know their name"

Donna puts her materials down slowly and lifts her veil back before attempting a small smile

it takes a while but upon the offer of food, the kid finally lets Donna make them some clothes while Angie makes conversation

she works in silence, only offering small awkward smiles

Angie finally brings up the topic of where their parents are when the kid's clothes are done

when the child goes silent, Donna nods in understanding before hurrying off to make a room for them

as Angie helped tug the blankets up to the child's ears, they promised they'd be gone in the morning

Angie was the one to tell them off.

"You'll stay as long as you need, you silly goose!"

and the child did

Donna would let them tag along for meetings so long as they promised to keep quiet and help keep Angie out of trouble

most of the time, it didn't work and they both would end up in trouble but Donna let them come nonetheless

and when the other Lords question where on earth this little kid came from- all dressed in black fabric that matched Donna's dress, she just shook her head and let Angie chase them off verbally

she'd spend literal HOURS locked in that workshop making new little friends for her child and when they were old enough, she'd let them into the workshop

and when they were even older, she'd walk them through making their very first doll on their own

she'd just watch with pride as they carefully painted the freckles with a shaky hand while Angie danced around their ankles singing of how excited she was to have another friend

The Duke:

he would be setting up shop near the base of the Dimitrescu castle when he catches a kid trying to steal some his wares

he wouldn't be terribly upset, more concerned

it wasn't something shiny or expensive that they were trying to steal

it was some of the steaming-hot food he had left to cool in the wintry air

he confronted the child gently and with a warm smile

"That's cordon bleu," he says, gesturing to the steaming plate. "I can make you some if you'd like"

and as the child eats, the Duke continues tidying up his shop for any future customers

the child, through a mouthful of food, points to different items and asks their purpose, their price, their possible enhancements

the Duke answers each question with patience, happy for the company

but he doesn't just let the questions go one-way

"How about a trade?" he asks as the child asks about the strange-looking bottle of green liquid. "An answer for an answer."

the child agrees and the Duke starts to peel back layers of why the child was here looking for food

they had been orphaned by the last lycan attack, only barely making it out by fleeing into the woods

they tried to forage off of berry bushes and successfully managed to kill a pig- only for the blood to attract lycans before they could properly eat it

the Duke nods and continues busying himself with his shop, feeding the horse that pulls the wagon

the thought had hit him when he watched the child petting his horse

that horse hated everyone. including him at times.

maybe...

when he offered to take the child in, the kid nearly burst into tears and thanked him repeatedly, swearing to earn their keep

and they did, seven times over

what started off as a purely business venture morphed into something more as time went on

when the child would come back from selling smaller household items like gasoline and the occasional package of bullets, the Duke would have them climb onto the roof of the wagon and watch the sun set together with a plate of food

speaking of which, like Moreau, the Duke would raise the most cultured child

this kid would know how to prepare and identify different dishes and their ingredients just by looking at them or smelling them

and their palate would be far more sophisticated than most adults

the Duke, as the child gets older, would eventually allow them to choose destinations to set up shop- even outside of the village

wherever his child wants, the shop would go

it allows them to see the world and its earthly wares together- something the Duke had lacked in his life before the child was brought into the picture

Karl Heisenberg:

listen to me very very carefully

this man would be the most chaotic father ever to walk this earthly realm

when he finds this kid in the elevator of his factory, he's kinda standing there like 🧍 "what the hell-"

and when the kid starts spamming the button while maintaining eye contact, he kinda snaps out of it and starts chasing after them as they drop down to a different floor

it goes on for a solid twenty minutes before he finally managed to track them down in the corner of his office

and when i say this man is confused, i freaking mean it

i mean

why the HELL would some random kid be in his factory? don't they like... play with ponies or something at this age?

to be fair, this man literally has never been allowed a childhood so

obviously he starts scolding the kid ("what the hell are you doin' in here? it's dangerous and there's some really freaky shit here, kid"), dragging them to a nearby sink because "holy shit kid, you're filthy"

the kid is silent essentially the whole time, just kinda staring into his eyes

and of course Karl's gonna be like "...the fuck're you doin'?"

the kid's face is cleaned off and Karl sends them back out towards the village with a scratchy blanket he pulled out of the bottom of his desk drawer

he's working on his 'equipment' one day when he starts reaching for a wrench, keeping his focus on the body on the table

when i say this man jumps skyhigh at the kid asking a question, i mean it

he drags the kid back out, yelling about how dangerous it is and how "you shouldn't do that! you're gonna get yourself killed! go back home!"

the kid doesn't listen

it becomes a regular thing- Karl finds the kid wandering around the factory, Karl brings the kid out of danger, Karl tells them to get lost

eventually (day thirteen of this) he asks why the child keeps coming back

and he hates the answer he gets

it was something along the lines of "it's warm and there's nowhere else for me to go"

so Karl reluctantly eagerly lets them stay

it's a lot of rules at first (a kid shouldn't be allowed to just wander around a bunch of mindless cyborg killers, let alone a factory) but eventually the child learns to mind Sturm and the others

doesn't mean Karl does not have a fullblown heart attack when he walks into his workspace to find the kid tracing their finger along the center of the battery for the Soldats

after a very long talk (and some deep breathing) Karl reluctantly eagerly lets them sit against the very far wall to watch him work on the machinery- not, under any circumstances, the actual bodies

as the child blossoms into a young adult, they start to help out with certain aspects of Karl's work

exclusively machinery because Karl could not physically handle having his kid watch him get elbow-deep into a corpse

and Karl is so freaking proud of it

when the Soldat is kicked to life, he's got his kid in his arms and cackling like the proud dad he is

yeah. paternal Heisenberg>>>