#i want to write an entire post about how all of tris' friends exist to suffer for her

[literaryavenger]

You Were My Sunshine

Summary: Once a year you disappear for a whole day. Nobody knows where you go or what you do, but the team has learned to let you have your privacy. This year though, Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him and he follows you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death. Grief. Some angst. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I realize this is a little heavy and you absolutely don't need to read it. This one's mostly for me, but I thought why not post it and let Bucky comfort other people, if you need it. As always, my inbox is always open if you want to even just chat. I hope someone likes this. Also, I promise the requests are coming, a little slowly but they're coming. I'm on vacation for two weeks so I'll spend the time writing, probably.

Masterlist

“Have a good day.” Steve calls after you as you pass the kitchen.

You stop in front of the door to smile at Steve and wave at the team as they all have breakfast together before you keep making your way to the elevator that will take you to the parking garage.

“So, we’re really just accepting this?” Bucky asks the team when the elevators close behind you and he’s sure you can’t hear him.

“Yes, Buck.” Steve says firmly.

“But-” Bucky’s protests are cut off by Tony.

“She’s entitled to her privacy.” He says firmly. “Just let it go, Frosty.”

Bucky ignores the nickname and looks around the team, searching for anyone that might have his back, but nobody else seems to be too invested in your day. Bucky gets up with a huff and makes his way to the training room, resigned that he has to let you be.

You’ve always been an open person, you’re always there for everybody that needs you and you’re not afraid to talk about anything with anybody.

Your life is an open book.

Which is precisely why it drives Bucky crazy that, once a year, you disappear for an entire day and nobody knows where you go or what you do.

You disable all your communication devices, the tracking in your car and you don’t use credit cards anywhere. 

It’s like you cease to exist for a day, leaving no trace that you were anywhere.

At least that’s how the team sees it. 

They’ve all tried to figure out where you go, but that’s the only subject that you never talk about and, every time anyone asks you about it, your answer is always the same:

Don’t worry about it.

After so many years, the whole team has decided to listen to you and stopped worrying about it. 

Everyone except Bucky.

It’s not like you’re that close with him, but he considers you his friend and he trusts you, so it irks him that you have this huge secret that nobody knows anything about.

Needless to say, he worries about it a lot.

That’s why right now he finds himself tip toeing down to the garage. He sees you get into your car and drive away and, without even thinking about it, he jumps on his bike and follows you.

He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t follow you, that you’re allowed to have your secrets. But he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You make him lose control, you make him go insane. 

He just needs you. to know.

So he follows you, as discreetly as only a trained assassin knows how. He follows you into the city and stops a few cars away when you park in front of a secondhand bookstore. Bucky knows that shop all too well, it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s in the city.

He waits until you disappear behind a shelf before going in, watching you as you browse the books. It looks to Bucky like you’re looking for a particular book, when you find it, he can see your face lighting up.

You turn the book to look at the back cover and Bucky can read the title very clearly. ‘Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince’, one of your favorite books. Bucky knows that because he’s talked about it with you for hours, along with all the other books of the series and the Lord of the Rings books, Bucky’s favorites.

You chat amicably with the older guy that owns the shop while you pay for your book and then leave, getting back into your car with Bucky still on your tail.

Next you go to a small bakery and buy a coffee and a cupcake. Thankfully for Bucky you’re too distracted by talking with the nice, old lady that owns the place to notice him buying his own coffee.

He follows you again as you cross the street to the park in front of the bakery and walk until you find a secluded spot. You sit down against a tree and continue peacefully reading your book under the summer sun while sipping your iced coffee.

Bucky sits on a bench nearby where he has a visual on you, but you can’t really see him unless you were really looking for him. But you’re so engrossed in reading that Bucky’s sure he could sit next to you and you wouldn’t even realize it.

He knows you get like that when you’re reading something that captures your attention, and the Harry Potter books always do, no matter how many times you’ve read them already.

Bucky always thought you looked so cute while reading. You make no attempt to hide your reactions and it amuses him. So he spends the next few hours just watching you read, watching your beautiful face shining in the sunlight as you frown and snort and laugh and pout as your eyes dart around the pages.

It’s actually relaxing, he thinks to himself. Is this what you do every year? Take a whole day just to read without the chaos of the Compound and nobody to bother you?

But why would you be so secretive about this? Reading for hours with a cup of coffee is something you’d done countless times in your room, on the roof, in the backyard of the Compound or even in the common room, never really bothered by the noise the team makes when you’re so into the words you’re reading.

So why do it in secret?

After a few hours, around lunch time, you finally come out of the book’s trance and gather your things before getting up.

Bucky frowns when you don’t get back into your car and follows you as you walk to a small family owned Italian restaurant that Bucky’s never been to but always wanted to try. He discreetly follows you in and takes a table in the back where you can’t see him.

He watches you interact with the owner, the waiter and even the cook comes out to talk to you. It’s clear that they all know you and it seems to Bucky like you’re pretty close to them even though he’s never even heard you mention this place before. When you’re done eating, Bucky sees you playfully fight with the owner that doesn’t want to let you pay so you leave a generous tip that amounts to more than your check is and the owner chuckles to himself when you wink as you walk out.

After lunch, which Bucky has to admit was pretty good, he follows you to a flower shop a couple of doors down and he’s surprised to see the owner greeting you like old friends. It looks like she was already anticipating your arrival, a bouquet of blue roses already on the counter and ready to go when you arrive. You chat with the older woman for a few minutes before paying and leaving the flower shop to go to your car.

It’s clear to Bucky by now that you obviously have a routine on your secret day, and everyone you see on this day knows it.

So why don’t the Avengers? 

You looked so comfortable with all the people you’ve met today, Bucky can’t help but think that maybe you don’t feel like you belong on the team.

You drive until you arrive at your destination and Bucky is both surprised and confused when you park in the parking lot of a cemetery, get out of your car and enter it.

He subtly follows you in, watching you walk past a few graves and it looks to him like you know your way around by how effortlessly you walk without needing to check the names, stopping at one almost at the end of the row you were in while Bucky keeps his distance, always making sure to stay out of sight.

He sees you take a deep breath before kneeling in front of the grave and putting down the bouquet of flowers in front of it.

“Hi, mom…” You wipe the dirt off the tombstone and tidy the flowers in front of it with what Bucky’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Happy birthday.”

You take out the cupcake you bought that Bucky now realizes you hadn’t eaten yet and he sees you put a small red birthday candle on it and light it, then you just look at it for a few seconds before you sigh and blow it out.

“So…” You say quietly, looking back at the tombstone and Bucky can see a tear falling down your cheek.

A piece of Bucky's heart breaks seeing you so vulnerable and hurting like this, but he stays put no matter how much he wants to be at your side right now.

Bucky stands there in complete silence, hearing everything you say, hanging on to every word. He hears you talk about everything that happened in the past year, he listens to you talk about missions and parties and holidays. He hears you talk about the whole team and his heart flutters a little when you mention his name too.

You talk for a while and, after he assumes you run out of new things to say, he sees you taking out the book you just bought today.

“So, this year we finally got to the half-blood prince.” You say with a small smile. “It’s our favorite, hadn’t read it in a while.”

Bucky sees you open it and go to the page you left the bookmark in.

“It took me longer than I thought to find your favorite quote, I have to admit.” You say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 400 pages in, don’t judge me.” 

Bucky chuckles quietly at your playfulness, even in this situation. He can’t help but find you adorable.

“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” You read the quote before closing the book and looking back at the grave. “That’s what you told me when I was scared of the dark…” You say quietly with a smile.

“And that’s what you told me before you…” You trail off, not being able to finish your sentence as tears start streaming down your cheeks but Bucky has a pretty good idea where you were going.

That's what she told you before she died, so you wouldn't be scared.

He’s more than surprised that he didn’t know your mother died, and he’s pretty sure the rest of the team doesn’t know either.

Admittedly, families are a very touchy subject for the Avengers.

But Bucky’s even more surprised to see you breaking down, something you’ve never done before. You’re cheery, you’re bubbly, you’re everyone’s little ray of sunshine.

And it breaks Bucky’s heart to know you’ve been falling apart when you’re by yourself all these years.

“I’m sorry I only come here once a year, I just…” You start, so quietly that Bucky’s glad he has enhanced hearing otherwise he's sure he wouldn't be able to hear you. “I miss you so much and I can’t… I can’t bear this.”

He sees you running your fingers gently over the tombstone as you take a deep, shaky breath, but you can’t stop crying.

“I’m trying to be the person you loved…” You say after a moment of silence. “Your little ray of sunshine.” You chuckle softly through the tears.

It makes sense to Bucky now why you always try to be there for everyone else. It’s how you’ve always been, apparently. Always making sure no one feels alone because deep down you feel the most alone, and you don’t want anyone else to feel that way.

You are my sunshine

Bucky’s thoughts get interrupted when he hears you quietly starting to sing. 

My only sunshine

Bucky knows this song. It’s a lullaby that he’s heard you sing once before.

Clint’s family visited him at the Compound and you offered to watch his kids so he and his wife could have a date night.

You probably didn’t realize he heard you, you probably thought you were alone and it’s not like he was spying on you. He just happened to pass by when you were in Clint’s room, trying to get the three kids to sleep by singing to them.

You make me happy, when skies are gray 

You take a breath before continuing but your voice wavers a little. 

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you

Bucky can see you’re having trouble getting the words out, your voice almost breaking.

Please don’t take… My sunshine… Away

Before you can even get the last word out, you break down completely, burying your face in your hands while sobbing.

Bucky feels his heart break as he takes in your pain. He wishes there was some clear and simple solution to making this all better for you, but there's always been so much he doesn't understand about complex emotions like these. 

Right now, as he's watching how broken you are, though, he knows that he doesn't even care about understanding. He just wants to comfort you, to try and make it better...

Bucky comes to rest beside you, he kneels down to your level and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey…” He says quietly.

His presence startles you and you go into defense mode, taking his hand on your shoulder and bending it, then using your grip on his arm to push him face down on the ground.

Bucky didn’t expect you to react so quickly and aggressively which makes it easier for you to catch him off-guard and pin him down.

“Goddammit, Bucky!” You say after you finally recognize him and let him go, getting up and scrambling back to put some distance between you and him while breathing heavily.

For a moment, Bucky is a little stunned. It's rare that anyone is able to get the jump on him like that. But then he snaps back to reality. He lets you make your distance while getting back to his feet and stands a few feet away from you.

“Did you fucking follow me?!” Your sadness is quickly forgotten and replaced with anger.

“I…” Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He knows he’s in the wrong here and he has no defense for himself when he knowingly violated your privacy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what?!” You snap at him. “You didn’t understand what the meaning of privacy is?!”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, he’s never seen you this angry at anyone that’s not an enemy and surely never at him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just curious, I didn’t think this would be it, I thought…”

“You thought what?” You say when he trails off, clearly pissed as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I thought maybe you were a supervillain…” He jokes weakly, trying to make you laugh. “Or a stripper.”

His last word gets a surprised laugh out of you as you, fortunately, understand he’s just joking before you actually punch him in the face.

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief as he sees you laugh and then takes a tentative step towards you.

“I really am sorry…” He says quietly, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “I know it was wrong of me to follow you, and I didn’t plan on bothering you at all, which doesn’t make what I did better,” He quickly adds when he sees you’re about to say something.

“But when I saw you crying, I just… I couldn’t help myself.” He trails his hand down your arm to your hand and takes it in his. “You’re always there for everybody, I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t let anybody be there for you.”

You look at him for a long moment, processing his words. Of course you know he’s right, you don’t let anybody be there for you, but you also never really believed anyone cared enough to.

But looking at Bucky right now, it feels like he really does want to be there for you...

So you let him.

You look back down at the grave, your hand still in his as you intertwine your fingers together.

“She died when I was 14.” You say quietly. “I only had her, so I was on my own after that…”

Bucky listens quietly, his eyes on your face as he sees the tears starting to gather in your eyeline again.

“A few years later, Natasha and Clint found me during a mission. They saw me knock out a dude that cornered me in an alley and they were impressed…” You have a faint smile at the memory although it’s clear you’re about to cry again. “They offered me a place in the SHIELD Academy and, after that, I don’t know… I wasn’t alone anymore.”

You look back at Bucky to find him looking at you intently, his gaze intent and unwavering. 

“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”

His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.

With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.

In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.

This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.

And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.

Drabble

[writingwithcolor]

Author with cultural disconnect: How do I write without making it seem as if I hate my own heritage?

Anonymous asked:

I’m a white-passing Asian author, and I’ve never felt all that connected with my heritage. My current story centers on a fairy (re: fantasy-world POC) child and ends with her realizing that her parents are toxic af and her human best friend’s family takes her in. This is the perfect opportunity to sort through my own issues with my heritage and finally convince my monkey-brain that it’s okay to not know how to cook Vietnamese food or celebrate tet or speak Vietnamese… But I also realize that if I’m not careful, this could easily slip into “Hey, I hate my heritage and so should you!” So how can I stop that from happening?

Writing for yourself first, not an audience

I ask you a simple question: why put pressure on yourself to have any sort of non-offensive messaging for a story that hasn’t been drafted yet and is to convince your monkey brain it’s okay to exist as yourself?

That seems like the fastest way to stop the story from being actually cathartic and instead a performance art piece when you already feel hung up on performing as “properly” part of your culture.

As I said in Working Through Identity Issues and Other Pitfalls of Representation, not all stories you write need to be for public consumption. Especially stories you’re using for your own self-processing and therapy, because you’re trying to get a cathartic moment that is rewriting your own story.

At what point does the public need to be involved in that?

I do understand the compulsion to want to post—I have definitely posted some Questionable™ material in my drive to get validation for feeling the way I do, wanting people to witness me and say “same.” It’s a powerful urge. Sometimes it’s worked, but most of the time it’s just made me feel horrifically exposed.

But you really do not have to post in public to get any sort of validation. Set up a groupchat with friends if you want the cheerleading and witnessing—people who will know your story and give you good-faith interpretations and won’t accuse you of anything. Honestly I’d suggest setting up this groupchat anyway; as someone who just got one again after quite a few years without it, my productivity has skyrocketed from being around supportive people.

Let the monkey brain have its monkey brain moment and shut off the concept the story is for the public. Shut off the concept of performing for an unknown audience. It’s for you. Be authentic, no matter how bad it would look to outsiders. They’re not reading it. Part of getting catharsis, sometimes, is being the worst version of yourself, somewhere nobody else can see it.

Deciding to publish the work

If, after you do write it, you find that you actually do want to polish it up and put it somewhere… edit it. Rewrite it entirely if that’s what it takes. Take the story through the same drafting process every story needs to go through, ripping out the unfortunate implications as you go.

Editing can be its own form of healing, as you try to figure out what this character would need to not be hateful. As you realize, once this longform journal entry is out of your head, what was bothering you now that you can see it pinned down on a page. But you absolutely do not need to write with the intention of editing in that healing. When I’ve tried, it’s fallen flat.

The healing will come from being yourself, no public involved, and writing about your feelings in their rawest form. Anything else is extra.

There’s no point in trying to put guard rails on the drafting process, not for a deeply personal piece. And by the time that drafting process is done, you’ll likely have specific scenarios and contexts that you can ask about, and you might even have ideas on how to fix it yourself once the story has a shape to it.

This is 100% a situation where there’s no real sense in idea workshopping something in the plotting stage. You’re doing something for you. Decide if it’s for public consumption later (while acknowledging “no” is a perfectly valid answer), and only figure out how to make the story not overtly harmful if you decide to put it out into the public.

~ Leigh

[olderthannetfic]

Being a trans man and not being an anti is also isolating, which is part of why I think trans guys gravitate towards either being an anti or reposting anti posts. If you're not an anti, you get booted from discord servers, blocked on social media at best or sent misgendering rape threats, death threats and suicide bait by other trans men at worst, and now that I'm in college I've found IRL that not being an anti makes a lot of people in queer spaces available to the average college student incredibly uncomfortable. So you have to either be entirely alone - which is very difficult when you're young, queer, and just coming into your own identity - or you have to be around it a lot without saying a word. Agreeing with it at first wouldn't even be necessary. You just have to not say anything against it, and then you'll be able to be around other people.

It doesn't help that most trans men who get sucked into anti circles are teens at the time. There's 501 proposed anti-LGBT laws right now, not counting everything that has passed, the majority of it anti-trans. If you're a teenage boy seeing all this transphobia on the rise, you're going to feel powerless. Bullying people like antis do makes you feel power over at least a few people. Being told you can consume your way into being a good person via media intake makes you feel like you have power and control over at least that.

I was sucked in incrementally because I wasn't exposed to the more violent antis who fantasized about murder and hurting people for writing fiction, I met my only friend - who was an anti - after my dad had beaten me for coming out as trans, and I was sixteen. I got out when I was eighteen because once I went to live with my mom, a psychologist, she gently corrected me when I would say things that aren't based in fact. She pointed out how upset these people were making me. She taught me how to fact-check claims and look into the veracity of claims.

And when I tried to convey to my friends that no, what they were saying wasn't supported, they turned on me. Including the only person who had been there for me when I was hatecrimed, who had reached out to me specifically because she met me what day. I lost every friend I had in roughly 30 hours.

If I hadn't had a really great mom, a very intelligent rabbi who's well-versed in psychology and is a former lawyer who saw the "fiction made me do it" excuse used to defend heinous crimes and doesn't buy it, and an older half-sister who lived through people calling her a psycho lesbian because she's a lesbian who played D&D, listened to metal and dressed Goth in small-town Montana in the 80's/90's, I would have probably killed myself. Having those three people who accepted me and did not accept this extremist rhetoric kept me sane and repaired my self-esteem enough to keep me going.

But a lot of people don't have three adults who are intelligent, supportive, and know better than to fall for this faux-psychology. A lot of people don't even have one. Often, they have unsupportive people who also believe firmly in the faux-psychology of "if you watch a thing you'll do that thing IRL". So there's not only no one hauling them out of this, it's getting reinforced.

Being a non-anti who is a trans man gets me a lot of shit from a lot of people online and offline. (As other anons have mentioned during the ace discourse, online talking points come up on college campuses and in real life, because the internet is not an alternate dimension, it is something being used by the people around you who exist in the same physical space as you.)

A reality that I don't think people want to discuss is that trans men, just like all other people of all other genders, suffer a lot of psychological distress if they're put in a position where they have no support. I sure as fuck wasn't happy being in a position where I went from having tons of online friends, discord servers I could hang out in and fandoms I associated with good vibes to none of that, plus harassment, plus massive misgendering.

It's a lot less awful of an existence to be a trans man and an anti when you're young and need community and support than it is to not be an anti and be isolated. And humans gravitate towards the least awful option 99% of the time.

--

Yuuup.

Having some kind of real support network, usually offline but at the very least not randos you met a day ago on discord, is vital and is the difference between not only whether you rot in a pit of antidom forever but in stemming the massive flood of trans teen suicides. The overall queer rates aren't great, but the specifically trans rates... they're bad. They're so, so bad.

[juniperhillpatient]

I have talked about this a lot before but it’s on my mind & also it’s something that really should be discussed more in Buffy fandom -

People are constantly talking about how Spike defies all the rules Buffy was taught about demons & vampires & rightfully so. A vampire falling in love with a slayer & fighting for his soul for her is such a romantic notion & I do love it but the nuance of Spike’s arc is even more interesting than that! He does love Buffy but not only that he befriends the Scoobies too. He brings flowers for Joyce after she dies. He helps prove that Tara is not a demon when her family tries to gaslight her & isolate her. He becomes a pseudo big brother to Dawn.

And yet none of that is even what I’m here to talk about! Spike IS a hero & he does have a long spanning redemption arc before the soul (& we’re NOT here to talk about Seeing Red right now, as usual that topic is too expansive & requires its own post) that should be acknowledged & his character is rightfully praised but he is NOT the only exception to vampires having nuance & it drives me crazy that we act like he is. The Judge isn’t just talking to Spike when he says this:

“You TWO.” He’s talking about Drusilla too! He says that they share affection & jealousy. That Angelus in his total sociopathic lack of human emotion is the odd one here.

Then you have things like this -

Conversations with Dead People has Buffy sharing a very long & deep conversation with an old acquaintance turned vampire. And it’s far from the only example in universe of a vampire retaining some sense of camaraderie with people from their life!

That’s right this entire rant has been a lead up to talk about my best girly Harmony Kendall. You’ve fallen for my ruse if you’ve read this far muahaha! Admittedly Harmony’s strongest moments are mostly unfortunately on Angel but even in season four of Buffy when she dates Spike she is clearly intended at times to be sympathetic. Season 4 is also interesting because we see a lot interactions between various gangs of vampires like Harmony’s so-called minions & even Sundays gang where they’re very much evil but also sharing in living (existing?) space & acting like bickering roommates or siblings. Like creatures with bonds & personalities & intricacies.

The point I’m trying to make is that the show never truly wants to grapple with the existence of Spike in all his nuance but it’s also not just about him! In general there is so much to grapple with in the idea that vampires can change & be redeemed & I’m not saying I’m anti scary evil vampires I’m just saying the universe gave us these hints of nuance & then the characters never grappled with it & that’s lame. For Buffy killing things that have a shot at redemption however small would be a major emotional blow if she ever addressed it! Especially in her season 5 “am I just a killer 🥺” arc. Let’s deal with the implications!

Let’s deal with Xander’s trauma about killing Jessie & just how much it would/should hurt for him to see Spike increasingly choose good & work with the Scoobies. I would LOVE to know Xander’s reaction to Harmony’s arc on Angel or Cordelia befriending her & letting her go ina world where the writing acknowledges that he drove a stake through his best friends heart!

It’s just that the writers accidentally complicated their own lore & then totally refused to ever let their characters address what the cracks in the stories they tell themselves mean. Giles says that a vampire is no longer the person but instead the thing that killed them. What’s scarier: the idea that your loved one was killed & something wears their face like a mask OR much more insane (to me) the idea that your loved one came back very wrong but it’s still them? Your brother eats people now but he still remembers how you like your eggs & can quote every episode of the cartoon you watched as kids. Your mom murdered that woman from the PTA who always talked too much in cold blood but she still remembers the recipe for your favorite pancakes. The show wanted scary vampires but it got so caught up in never addressing the infinitely more complex & scarier vampires it accidentally created & sticking to the more simplistic initial idea that it did both the characters & lore very dirty. And I’ll never shut up about it!!!

[kimi240302]

Craving

A/N: Before you read this story, be aware I am from Germany and can't write a bit of English. That's why I'm sending this through an app that translates it for me.

A/N2.0: In this story, the characters are all a little older.

Summary: Y/N Swan tries everything to keep her promise to stay away from Demetri Volturi. But can you stay away from the man fate bound you to?

Demetri Volturi x Female!Swan!reader

Words: 3,4k

Main Post / Twilight Masterlist / Request list / Playlist 

Part 2 of Daylight Masterlist 

18+ I am new to the whole smut writing so please be nice  

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Tellin' myself it's the last time Can you spare any mercy that you might find If I'm down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try Try to follow your light, but it's night time Please, don't leave me in the end

- David Kushner 

"Y/N?!”

Startled, the young girl flinched. Her gaze, which she had directed outside the entire time, turned to the whiteboard, and therefore to her scowling teacher. When Y/N noticed that the whole classroom was looking at her in a wait-and-see manner, her cheeks turned red as she shrank slightly into herself.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Porter, I wasn't listening." Shaking her head, the teacher sighed. "That's been happening to you quite a bit lately Miss Swan!" Embarrassed, since all the attention was still on her, Y/N just shook her head apologetically. "Just pay attention from now on. The things we discuss today will come up in next week's exam."  Y/N sat up a little straighter, took out her pen from her bag, and pulled her notebook towards her, which made the teacher smile contentedly and continue with the lesson.

For fifteen minutes, Y/N was able to focus on what was going on in front of her, until her gaze turned back outside and her thoughts drifted back to Demetri. As she did so, her hand settled, as if by itself, on the spot where Demetri's lips had touched her skin. Her eyes closed and the memories came back. It almost seemed to her as if Demetri was here in the same room with her, very close again.

Annoyed, Y/N exhaled, opened her eyes and dropped her hand. Three weeks had passed since the meeting with Demetri in the library. Three weeks of pure torture, as Y/N no longer knew exactly where she stood, what she felt, or what exactly she wanted.

Then to top it all off, the young girl felt guilty towards her sister for indirectly breaking her promise. While it had been Demetri who had sought her out, Y/N hadn't really done anything about his closeness either, or really found it disturbing. Y/N therefore kept inventing excuses not to talk to Bella for more than half an hour to an hour, even skipping a phone call here and there. Bella, surprisingly, ignored this. She probably thought Y/N had a lot to do with school, which was true somewhere.

On the other hand, Y/N was overwhelmed with what she was feeling. She missed the feel of Demetri's body against hers. She missed his hands holding her, his lips on her skin, and his presence. Y/N even had to admit that she searched for him whenever she was out.

Yet it was almost as if Demetri Volturi no longer existed. As if he had disappeared from the scene and the only thing he had left behind was desire and words that Y/N did not understand, or rather did not want to understand.

"How long can you hide your sins from the light of day?"

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"You should come out to party with us." Mara, a friend of Y/N, looked at her piercingly. "You've been going out for two weeks only to go to school, and even there you're absent the entire time and hardly talk."

Annoyed, Y/N released air from her lungs as she flopped down on her bed. "I just don't feel like doing anything else. Everyone has that once, it'll pass."

Mara jumped up from the chair she had been sitting on for the past hour and tried to coax Y/N into doing something other than just lying around in her room. Her fingers encircled Y/N's ankles. With a strong tug, Mara pulled Y/N off her bed.

Startled, she let out a scream as she plopped to the floor. Silence reigned for a moment until the two friends looked at each other and burst out laughing. Mara lay down on the floor next to the laughing Y/N, as she couldn't stop laughing either.

Both friends looked at the ceiling, trying to get their breathing under control as they slowly calmed down.

"What's it like?" Confused, Y/N turned her head in Mara's direction. "What exactly?" Her friend looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I have a big sister Y/N, I know what heartbreak looks like. I'm just wondering what it feels like. I've never been in love, so I can't understand someone wanting to pull away from everything and everyone because of it."  Y/N turned her gaze back to the ceiling. Clearing her throat briefly, she tried to collect herself. "It's more complicated than heartbreak." The young girl took one deep breath. "You have to imagine that I never really knew who I was at home. I felt lost, which I still do from time to time." Y/N fell silent. Saddened and depressed by her own words, even if they spoke the truth.

"Why?" "Bella always cast a shadow over me. She was all my parents saw. I tried to step out of it, but every time I did, I stood in it again. So I gave it up and just lived in it. When I met Demetri, that's his name, I had the feeling of being seen for the first time. Really seen. I wasn't Bella's little sister anymore, I was just Y/N." Smiling, she closed her eyes and remembered back to the day she had first seen the vampire.

A cold hand placed itself under Y/N's chin and lifted it. This forced the young girl to look up. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of her bag as she looked into a pair of red eyes. "What's your name Chéri?" At the blond-haired man's voice, a shiver ran down her spine. "Y/N...." Her voice was soft.

With a soft smile, Demetri released her chin and brushed a tangled strand of hair behind her ear. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."

"What's it like to be around him?" "It feels like coming home. When he's around me, it's like I can finally take a breath." Y/N gave a soft laugh. Confused, Mara looked at her, "What is it?" "At the risk of sounding ridiculous, when Demetri touches me it's like he reminds me that I'm alive and not just existing. His touches almost burn, and they continue to do so long after he's gone."

Mara was silent again for a moment. "That doesn't sound ridiculous. On the contrary it sounds beautiful, like a connection anyone would want to have. But then why are you sad?" "My family is against it." Mara exhaled in annoyance. "You mean your sister is against it."  "And a few other people I care about, or at least used to." Y/N's expression changed to a sad one. "So what's the plan? To forget him." The young girl just nods.

Mara, sighing, nudged her friend in the ribs with her elbow, making Y/N wince.

"Now let's be honest, let's go to the club today. The others are coming too. The first step towards oblivion." Y/N rubbed the spot where Mara's elbow had hit her.  "If I come with you, will you promise not to be violent towards me anymore?"

Playfully thoughtful, Mara put a hand to her chin and considered for a few seconds.

"If I have to..." Dramatically, the hand moved from her chin to her chest. "I promise to behave towards you!"

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed the pillow, which had fallen on the floor with her earlier, and threw it in Mara's face.

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"Look who decided to join us for the night!" Mara spread her arms and showed her group of friends Y/N, immediately they all started cheering. "The lost child has returned!" Y/N rolled her eyes and plopped down next to Mick on the bench in the club. "I only skipped one club visit!" She had to raise her voice to fight the music. "One too many!" called Mick back, pressing his fresh beer into her hand. He put his arm on her shoulders and lifted the other beer to toast with the others.

As the evening went on, more and more alcohol flowed. Which helped Y/N lose any thought of Demetri and her confusing feelings for him.

With her eyes closed, Y/N moved to the tune of the music. The darkness that surrounded her, broken only by green and red lights every few seconds, made her feel safe and out of reach. Y/N felt free for the first time. No vampire drama could find her here. It was just her and her friends here.

The bodies around her, the young girl was already not even aware of, as well as the smell of sweat and alcohol. Smiling, she raised her arms in the air. 

Y/N's peace was quickly shattered. Startled, she flinched when two hands came to her hips. Her arms dropped down so she could put her hands over the stranger's and push them away. But as her skin touched the stranger's and she felt the familiar cold, the young girl literally sank into the body behind her. An unfamiliar feeling of relief spread through her.

"Demetri..."

His name was no more than a whisper, but Y/N knew he had heard her. After all, he was a vampire. The grip on her hips strengthened as if to assure her that it was really him, that he was really behind her and was not just an illusion.

"What do you think you're doing here Trésor?" Goosebumps formed on Y/N's skin. Tightening her grip on his hands, she sought the hold to steady herself. "Trying to forget." She murmured, not stopping to move, forcing Demetri to follow her lead.

The vampire snorted in amusement. His left hand settled on Y/N's stomach, where he applied enough pressure to keep Y/N's back against his chest. Demetri also released his right hand from her hip and let his fingertips travel upward just a few millimeters over the filmy fabric of Y/N's black blouse. When his fingers stopped at the exposed cleavage that started just below her breasts, Y/N had to gasp. Demetri's lips hovered just inches from her ear. "What are you trying to forget?"

Carefully almost, as if the vampire was afraid his mate would shatter like glass, he touched the exposed skin, between her breasts. Slowly his fingers slid up. Y/N bit her lip gently. She didn't want Demetri to know how much influence he had on her. However, the young girl quickly lost her focus as Demetri's fingers slid over her collarbone. Out of instinct, she grabbed Demetri's right arm, causing him to pause in his movement.

"I wanted to forget you." Her words sounded breathless and desperate. Demetri laughed, "And you really thought for a second that I would let this happen?" The vampire lowered his head. As he did so, he let his lips run over Y/N's cheek and chin. Arriving at her neck, he lowered his lips to her pulse point without further thought. Without hurting her he sucked his mouth there to make a mark on her. The young girl's eyes widened before she closed them. Her body automatically pressed even closer to his as Y/N's grip tightened on Demetri's arm.

"Good luck forgetting now." Demetri had moved away from her neck and taken his arms from her. Confused and slightly backward staggering, Y/N opened her eyes and at the lack of presence behind her, turned around. Only to find that Demetri had disappeared and left her behind  once again.

"He can't be serious now!"

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The young Swan girl felt as if a bucket of water had been poured over her head. Any signs of being drunk had disappeared and been replaced by a feeling of emptiness.

Slamming her apartment door behind her, Y/N shook her shoes off her feet. She had told her friends a half-hearted excuse, gotten out of the club into the next best cab, and headed home.

Tired, Y/N leaned against her front door. Her gaze slid around her dark apartment. Sighing, her head lightly banged on the door behind her. Tears came to her eyes as she realized how lonely she actually felt. Y/N didn't miss Forks, her sister, her father, or her friends, though. She was missing Demetri. Which made no sense from her point of view, since they were both never in the same place for more than half an hour.

Shaking her head, Y/N pushed herself away from her door, banished her way through the still dark apartment to the bathroom, and slowly began to undress in the process. She wanted nothing more than to wash the evening off her skin. The alcohol, her sweat, and the feeling of what Demetri had left on her skin. As she walked past her bedroom window, Y/N opened it to let the evening air in and since she lived on the fifth floor she didn't worry about anyone getting into her apartment.

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With a towel tied around her body, Y/N stood stunned in front of her bathroom mirror.

""This bloody..."" Twisting her neck a bit to the side, she looked at the red mark on her neck. Gasping, she propped her hands on the sink. "A hickey? Seriously!"

Shaking her head in front of her, she tugged on her towel again and left the bathroom to get dressed in her bedroom. Just as she was about to open her closet door to look for her sleeping clothes, a voice familiar to her was heard.

"Mon amour you should not leave your window open like that. Someone might come in here unannounced."

With a cry, the young girl turned to her bed. Stunned, Y/N looked at the vampire. Demetri had made himself comfortable on her bed. His hands were clasped behind the back of his head as he watched her with a satisfied grin.

"I live on the fifth floor! No one can get in there just like that. Except crazy vampires who don't know what privacy is!"

Angrily, she braced her hands on her hips. Demetri raised an eyebrow. "I thought the window was an invitation for me. After all, we both know that the height of your apartment is nothing that can stop me."  Several times Y/N blinked as she processed Demetri's words.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Y/N, enraged, grabbed the nearest object that fell into her fingers and threw it at Demetri. The latter jumped up from the bed to avoid the book Y/N threw at him.

"Mon amour you know that can't hurt me, right?" With an annoyed snort, Y/N grabbed her other textbook and aimed it at Demetri again. "I don't care!" Demetri ducked his head, repositioned himself properly, and looked after the book that had knocked a vase onto the floor.

"Think about your decor Y/N." Demetri's grin seemed to make the young girl even angrier. By the third time she turned to grab something and throw it at the vampire, Demetri had had enough. He closed the distance between them and stood directly in front of her.

Y/N, who was just turning back to face him, startled, dropped the book from her hand, and took an avoiding step backward. The skin on her back touched the cold wood, of her closet. This reminded her that she was still standing in front of Demetri in only a towel. Y/N's hands grasped the top hem of the towel and pulled it closer to her skin.

"Why are you here Demetri?" Y/N uttered her words only softly, with an uncertain tone. Demetri could even hear an anxious undertone. He stepped over the inches of distance that still existed between the two. The vampire raised his hand to Y/N's cheek, which made her close her eyes. The trembling of her body became more obvious and Demetri had to admit to himself that this reaction of his mate hurt him.

"Open your eyes Y/N." Demetri rested his forehead against Y/N's as he whispered his next words. "I beg you, don't be afraid of me." The young girl's eyes flew open. She had to swallow because of the closeness of their faces and the intensity of Demetri's gaze.

"Then give me a reason not to be afraid."

Demetri's free hand rested against Y/N's other cheek as he released his forehead from hers. Without hesitating any further, he lowered his lips to those of his mate. Instantly Y/N tensed and Demetri feared that he had gone too far. But Y/N leaned more toward him. Her chest pressed against his to keep her towel where it was as she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss as passionately as Demetri had.

The vampire's hands dropped down to Y/N's hips.

When they both broke away from each other, Demetri stopped with his lips just inches from hers. Y/N opened her eyes, letting her right arm slide down Demetri's chest. The vampire inhaled, even though he didn't have to, not breaking eye contact with Y/N for a second. "I would never hurt you Y/N. I'm not the monster the Cullens want me to be."

Y/N placed her right hand on Demetri's cheek. Her fingertips gently ran over his skin. With a smile, Y/N watched as Demetri's eyes closed as he leaned into her touch. She realized that he felt the same in her presence as she did in his, comfort.

Y/N leaned closer to Demetri with her face getting closer and closer to him. Just as the young girl was about to close her eyes, a ringing interrupted her. Startled, Y/N flinched and separated herself from Demetri. The latter opened his eyes annoyed when Y/N took her hands from him, put them back to the towel and detached herself from his body. Demetri let go of her, watching as Y/N went to her cell phone, picked it up and read the name. "Bella..."

Shaking his head, he walked back toward her. "Don't answer it." Uncertain, his mate looked at him as her fingers tightened around her phone. Demetri had enough of Bella, enough of the promise of what she had taken from his mate, and enough of waiting. He grabbed Y/N`s face between his hands again, pulling her body towards him and letting his lips meet hers. Startled by her mate's rudeness, she dropped the phone on the floor between them. Her fingers buried themselves in the thick material of Demetri's top, at his waist.

"Tonight you're all mine, tonight it's just the two of us!"

Demetri bent Y/N's head slightly to the side with his right hand. Immediately he lowered his lips to the skin on her neck, causing his mate to groan. Meanwhile, his hands wandered over her shoulders to the top saun of the towel, where he untied the knot Y/N had made in it to make sure the fabric stayed where it was.

Y/N shuddered as she felt the fabric of the towel loosen around her body. With trembling fingers she pushed herself away from Demetri. Confused, he looked at her and wanted to protest, but fell silent when Y/N's fingers went to the first button of his shirt and opened it. They both looked into each other's eyes while she repeated this with the other buttons. Carefully, Y/N ran the exposed skin back up as she undid the last button. As she did so, she could swear Demetri gasped several times. Arriving at his shoulders, she slipped the shirt off his body. She let her fingers wander further up his neck and pulled him down to her. This time it was Y/N who deepened the kiss directly as Demetri's hands worked their way down to her thighs. He lifted her up without breaking the kiss and placed her on the bed behind them.

The vampire and his mate created their own little world that night under the protection of her darkness. A world where Bella and the Cullens were forgotten. Where Y/N's fears for the future had no place. Where the ringing of Y/N's cell phone was ignored and where she belonged completely to Demetri.

A world that shattered with the first rays of daylight. When Y/N opened her eyes, she was aware not only of the burning sensation left by Demetri's touch, but also of the tightness in her lungs. She had betrayed her sister.

Y/N turned in bed to face her window. The side of the bed on which Demetri had been lying was cold, but not empty. A note lay on the pillow. Confused, the young girl straightened up, grabbed it and read it.

"Daylight exposes your sins more and more, so why still try to hide them in the darkness?"

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I will write a Part 3

@twilightlover2007​ @ssnapsaurus @svtbpbts

@xxx-wounded-angel-xxx  @ms-sasa​

[jinisnuggets]

Hello I could request a idol!Jake x mangaka!male!reader and the reader is introvert ( fluff please )

✧ ˚ · . 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

ᴾᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᴵᵈᵒˡ! ᴶᵃᵏᵉ ˣ ᴹᵃⁿᵍᵃᵏᵃ! ᴹᵃˡᵉ! ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ, ᴬᵘ

ᵂᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: ².¹ᵏ

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ᴮᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵐᵃⁿᵍᵃᵏᵃ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒ ᵉᵃˢʸ ʲᵒᵇ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃˢᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵖⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵖᵉⁿᶜⁱˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢˢᵉᵐᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ, ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ; ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃⁿʸ.

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᴺᵒᵗ ᵃ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ: ˢᵒᵒᵇⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴳⁱˢᵉˡˡᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ, ᵒᵛᵉʳʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ? ᴺᵒᵗ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ, ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠʸ :)

ᴺᵉᵗʷᵒʳᵏ: @starlit-network

ᴬ/ᴺ: ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱˢᵗᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗʳᵒᵖᵉ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵒ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ᵈᵃᵐⁿ ᶠⁱᶜ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ. ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ˢʰᵒʳᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʳᵉqᵘᵉˢᵗ ⁱˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ :ᴰ

Planning, drawing, writing, new page, repeat. Unfortunately, those 6 words were all you needed to say in order to describe your regular schedule. Everyday was the same. Sometimes asking if you would ever have a break, or ever be successful enough in order to have your manga have its own anime adaptation, it'd be a huge step forward and might end up bringing in enough money so you didn't have to constantly work on a new series.

Unfortunately, despite the numerous amount of animes that existed; the chance of getting contacted by a producer was rare. And even though your two series were pretty big among readers, the day you'd receive a call or even just an email would likely never come.

You wrote away, brainstorming new ideas in this competitive industry. Your newest manga, had recently come to an end, ending at the manga number of 34. You had to admit, you were pretty happy with how it was written, especially since recently you seemed pretty dry and void of motivation.

The public seemed to agree, approving of the manga and giving you the thumbs up to reassure you that it was indeed a well written series. The pressure was a bit much, after finally finishing an almost 6 year series you were already seeing posts online titled:

“Can't wait for L/n Y/n’s next manga!”

“If he releases a new manga then damn right I'm buying it.”

Seeing those posts made you feel bad, causing you to pick up a pen and notebook and start brainstorming.

“You're going to write another one? That'll be 3 series!”

Hand up to your forehead, sighing at your own ideas as you crumbled the piece of paper and threw it away. “Well that's the plan but with how terrible I am at coming up with ideas I'm unsure if there will even be a 3rd series.”

He looked at you and leaned his back up against your bed frame. You found yourself with some of your friends, both in your house to keep you company and to help you think of a manga plot.

Footsteps approached the room, entering and holding a bag of snacks enough for the 3 of you. “Yeah well, your past 2 series have had a large audience, so if you end up writing a 3rd series chances are there's going to be a good chunk of people rushing to libraries to purchase it. So you should think of something that'll attract attention to those in your fan base along with those who aren't.”

“Thank you for the help Aeri…” you muttered to which she smiled, closing the door behind her and pulling over a chair to sit near the 3 of you.

Soobin and Aeri had been your friends since middle school, they knew you wanted to write manga series later on and supported you the entire way through. The 3 of you were inseparable and had stuck together the entire way through.

Pressing your face up against your arms and covering yourself with it, you tried to restart your mind and clear it, that way it'd be easier to communicate a proper plan for the manga.

“What if you try to make it based on an event that happened in your life..?” Soobin questioned, lightly rubbing his cheek as he leaned over to grab a granola bar from inside the bag.

You turned your face to look over at him, and chuckled.

“What type of event…? My life up until now hasn't been very eventful, so I practically have nothing to write about…”

Aeri looked down at the two of you and put her arm up to her chin, “Think a little outside the box…”

You lifted your head and gently sighed, “I'll think of something. What do you guys say we watch a movie or a drama?”

_____

Getting out of your car and approaching the doorway entering the restaurant and finding yourself a comfortable seat to relax in.

Ordering your food and opening up your phone, scrolling through the latest news and lightly vibing to the music in the background which found itself playing in the restaurant speakers.

“That's the group that has been going viral lately right!?”

You glanced over at the table which the talking came from, spotting two friends with their eyes glued on the TV. You couldn't help but grow curious, looking up at the TV screen and seeing an idol group performing their most recent song on a music show.

You would be lying if you said that you didn't like Korean music, because you truthfully really enjoyed it. However it was the least of your importance at the moment because your full focus was on your phone.

Or at least… it should've been.

Suddenly, a soft, soothing voice touched your ears. Causing you an odd sense of relaxation as you found your own eyes tracing over the screen that was permanently stuck onto the wall.

His face… caught you a bit off guard. He was handsome but you got an odd sense of deja vu looking at him, maybe it was nothing and it was just your mind playing weird tricks on you. But this was not one of those cases because you truthfully did recognize him.

This was Sim Jake, a student that you knew from highschool and actually became quite fond of. Other than the fact that you both ate lunch together sometimes and talked every so often, you wouldn’t really know whether you could consider him a friend. Occasionally the atmosphere was a bit tense between the two of you, maybe that was because you grew feelings for him at one point throughout the school year but never spoke about it to anyone except Aeri, and well, you hinted at it to Soobin and by now you were almost certain that he had caught on.

Sim Jake had moved to Korea around mid school year for unknown reasons. There was rumor that he would become an idol, but nothing was ever confirmed; and well, rumor was rumor so you should never completely believe something.

Seeing him on TV felt almost… surreal. Looking at someone who you had met before and had actually spoken to, someone who you walked the same hallways as. You never thought that you’d experience something like that, you truthfully really did feel very proud of him, for achieving something that seems somewhat impossible.

But seeing your old classmate was not the only thing that came out of going to your local diner that night, because you also found yourself with a new idea.

_____

“Is that manga interesting?” Jungwon leaned over, coming to Jake’s shoulder and resting his head on it.

“Yeah, It’s from my favorite mangaka too, I heard they’re actually working on a new series.”

Jungwon looked up at his member and smiled, watching the pages and lightly reading them as the sheets flipped every 7-15 seconds.

Enhypen had recently finished performing on the stage of a music show. It had been a long night of dancing and singing along with cheering for other groups present. On the cold night, they all found themselves going back to the company on the bus, all members slightly shivering as they covered themselves with blankets.

“What’s the manga about?” Jungwon asked, attempting to keep the conversation going as he actively listened, trying to keep himself awake.

Jake loved to talk about his mangas and this being his favorite series, he of course would become excited the moment someone asked such a question. It was such an easy answer for him, and Jungwon listened to everything he had to say, smiling every so often at the quiet excitement that Jake expressed despite being unable to be loud due to some of the members already being fast asleep.

Jungwon pointed over at the cover, signaling the author’s name as he quietly muttered, “Is this their real name? Or a fake one?”

Jake chuckled ever so slightly, “It’s a pseudonym. Many mangakas use them because many like to keep their identities secret. Actually many fans have no idea what their favorite author looks like due to privacy reasons. The closest we’ll get is by these.”

He skipped to the end of the book, pointing at the little representative character that delivered a message to a reader at the end of every manga. Jungwon chuckled as he shut his eyes, making Jake remain silent as he stared at the manga. Despite being in the dark, Jake illuminated the book with a UV light, the type you would use for the visibility to the ink of an invisible pen.

“Y/n, would you like to eat lunch together?”

“Right now? I’m drawing-”

Jake frowned, looking down at you. Sighing, you gathered your supplies and followed him out of the classroom. Stopping to put away your sketchbook and other art necessities back into your locker, as well as pick up your own lunch bag in the process. You followed him out of the school, finding a bench under a tree where the breeze felt nice and cool.

“Why don’t you eat lunch with someone else?” you questioned, biting into the sandwich that you had brought as a bit of a lazy lunch.

“Because I don’t know you too well. In addition, I find myself intrigued by you. You’re always drawing and I wanted to ask, is there a reason behind it or is it just a hobby?”

You flustered a bit, a lot of people have watched you draw and have complimented you on your skill.

“Y/n you should put up your art in a museum!”

“You should write manga when you feel ready.”

“Work as an animation producer when you get older!”

Not to mention the amount of people who had asked you questions that you were almost tired of hearing. Being an artist came with its downsides but it was always good to have an extra skill which could potentially be a career, and pretty well paid as well,

“Well, I guess for now it’s just a hobby.” you muttered, looking down at the food inside the container. Picking up your chopsticks, beginning to eat once again, picking at the rice softly.

Jake’s gaze stayed on you, he sighed and looked forward, “I guess so, you’re practically an art genius so if you decide to start a career from it I bet it’ll pay off.” he added, mouth becoming a small smile that had been directed at you.

Nodding, you thought for a moment. “I don’t really find myself interested in art in terms of career. I think there’s better things out there… you know?”

Jake agreed, opening the small bag of cookies that he brought and handing you some. “Well, I get what you mean, if you turn a hobby into a career then it’ll start to feel more like an obligation rather than something fun. But I think it’s better in a way. If you’re good at something then it's something to take advantage of.”

Staying silent for a moment, you eventually muttered a small ‘I agree’ before going back to eating, he noticed and beamed ever so slightly.

“Y/n!”

Looking up from the pages that you had been working on, you held the pencil and looked at your lover who had been laying on your bed, staring at you knowingly. He was mainly there to keep you company and it had mainly been you who asked for it. It got lonely sometimes after all.

“What is it?” You asked, taking the opportunity to stretch and lay down on the floor for a quick moment, just to redeem yourself from the stress of continuously drawing.

“You've been working on that darn manga for so long, catch a small break.” He scolded, making you laugh in response as you glanced over to the shelves full of mangas that you had written.

3 series, 72 books total that came with multiple awards. Many action figures that had come from the anime production of your most recent complete series which gained an audience you never expected to receive. It gained attention from multiple celebrities and became one of the most popular anime series internationally.

Not only that but it helped your 2 previous books get much more recognition, which ended up causing your second to become adapted into a video game, which was very well made and had a wide variety of players.

“Well, this might be the last series I write. If not then I might stick to the number 5, that collection is becoming a bit big don't you think?” you asked, still looking over to the shelves that separated each of your series, holding figures, posters, fanarts, and of course, the mangas.

Jake nodded, smiling as he went down and gave you a small kiss on the forehead.

“You're doing great Y/n.” He muttered, making you glance over and kiss him on the lips. It was a feeling you enjoyed, as the feeling of his touch and arms comforted you.

“Thank you. I'll continue trying my best, I promise”

[offtorivendell]

On Elain, Gwyn and their apparent romantic worthiness.

TW: mentions of death, violent or sexual assault, infertility and pregnancy/childbirth related trauma. Please do not proceed if these topics bother you.

Disclaimer: please, please engage with this post with kindness. I promise I am not writing it to stir the pot, but because I - and many others - are fed up with seeing hurtful and harmful rhetoric spewed by the fandom, yet having no back up when dealing with it. Word vomit incoming, I'm sorry. This has been bothering me for a while.

My love to everyone who has been hurt by things they've read in this fandom. 💜

It's 2024 and I cannot believe we are still seeing posts, almost daily, about both of these women; all giving reasons why they cannot possibly be with Azriel. And I don't mean the debatable but utterly harmless discussions about Elain not looking good in black or Gwyn blabbing to Merrill when asked not to. Whatever, go nuts. I mean the truly horrific takes based around things these two women have had no control.

Now, my post history makes it very obvious where I stand in terms of ships, and yes, I'm well aware I've spoken before about the inherent power imbalance - that I perceive - which would exist if Azriel ever became involved with any of the priestesses in the women's shelter he is charged with protecting (to be clear, that's not me suggesting that Gwyn and her story isn't powerful, or powerful representation to those who see themselves in her, nor is it personal to Gwyn, or indicative of any of the sheltered priestesses and their ability to heal; it's purely a function of Azriel's position of authority over their sanctuary). I want to reiterate that my stating my feelings about this was never done with the intent to shame people who do ship them; we all ship who we like, and real world ethics should rarely come into it.

That being said, the following, in my opinion, is one of those times.

Firstly, I just want to say that lived experience informs how we interpret fiction, so please let me clarify something: the people who have said that they don't think Gwyn is ready for a relationship yet, and that NSFW fan art of her with anyone makes them uncomfortable, are not in any way in the wrong. They're simply the other side of the coin to those who find it empowering, and both are valid responses, often related to personal trauma. The problem lies with those very few who say that Gwyn could never have a romantic relationship, and call those who talk and/or post about it "gross." Some have called her "damaged goods." This is absolutely wrong and whoever is doing it needs to stop.

The entire fandom, even those who find romantic or NSFW content involving Gwyn uncomfortable to consume, frequently acknowledges that her trauma doesn't define her, and of course she should be able to enjoy love whenever she feels ready for it. Those who say otherwise are readily condemned from all corners. I've seen it happen and called the people out myself, as have many other Elriel shippers when necessary. However, Elriels are still very regularly and very publicly blamed for the actions of a few (some of whom I truly believe are burner accounts wanting to cause chaos, with their Elriel themed usernames and no post history), despite our largely collective action to call them out when we see it.

Could we do better? Absolutely, but so can you!

Because, on the other hand, I've noticed that, whenever I or others have tried to explain why the pliable bones "theory" - which attempts to reason that Elain could never be endgame with Azriel, as she and any baby would die during the course of pregnancy or childbirth - is equally as harmful, we are met with people publicly and wholeheartedly refusing to understand why (especially recently). Some horrific comments have been made to my friends, not to mention all of those I see well after the fact, which are never widely condemned by any but us. People will argue back that we're wrong, and have even suggested we're weaponising infertility! On Mothers' Day, of all the fucking painful days to say that.

Some of the push back I've seen recently includes:

"Nobody has said Elain is infertile."

No, nobody has, and that's not what we're saying or have ever said. We know you don't think this, as the Elucien fandom loves to write and draw Elain and Lucien's hypothetical future children (which is super understandable, as this is a romantasy fandom after all - no shame, enjoy your warm fuzzies).

What we are saying is that, if it's true that Elain's anatomy wasn't changed as Feyre and Nesta's was - and to be clear I cannot stand that entire plot, I wish SJM had chosen literally any other reason why Feyre's pregnancy was dangerous, as it is simultaneously degrading and doesn't fit with her previously established lore - then Elain and Azriel, together^, would be functionally infertile. Yet it's only ever framed as Elain's body not being able to work with Azriel's, never the other way around.*

^Why didn't the bat boys have to sacrifice their wings to keep their wives/mates safe? Why did the women have to change their anatomy? Because it would make it harder for them to be all powerful? Well Nesta sacrificed her powers! Why not just have Feyre be cursed by an enemy or something, and Nesta found a way to use the Dread Trove to save them all. Ugh. I love SJM's books, but this was such a miss.

*HOSAB/HOFAS SPOILER: funnily enough, this was never said about Ruhn and his eventual mate, even though he actually did think he may be unable to father children, thanks to the Oracle's prophecy. People shipped the hell out of him and a couple of different women throughout the CC series, despite the chance he could never get them pregnant.

"People haven't called Elain damaged goods, so it's not the same. We're allowed to not like her."

My faerie porn* lover in christ, what the fuck do you think the pliable bones "theory" is actually doing? It is suggesting that Elain's hypothetical inability to survive having children with Azriel, and for those children to also survive childbirth, is impaired. Ergo, she's damaged.

We don't care if you don't like Elain, we're allowed to have different preferences in characters and ships. That has never been the problem.

*I use this term with affection as a great lover of the genre.

But "damaged" vs a functionally "impaired" uterus? It's the same damn thing, and sorry, it's misogynistic af, not to mention ableist and homophobic at a minimum. In the same breath you are also reducing your favourite to her apparently functional uterus (even though the pliable bones argument is medically inaccurate, by the way - this is really damning of the state of health education across so many countries).

"Hahaha/lol."

Yes, I have seen people laugh and treat this as a joke. As recently as tonight, in fact. It's disgusting.

Regardless of your lived experiences and shipping preferences, both of these takes about Elain and Gwyn are equally degrading and horrific and need to stop, but if you're only calling out the comments that hurt you/your friends/your ship and not the others, then you should maybe attempt some basic self reflection and analyse those double standards you're carrying.

This entire fandom needs to do better. I'll say again, for the umpteenth time, to any of my fellow Elriels that if you think mocking Gwyn's past is funny, then you're not mature enough to read an adult series. But this works both ways, and if you think mocking infertility is funny/use it as a win, then you're just as immature. I would really and truly appreciate it if we were not left alone to argue over and over again why discriminating against someone who couldn't "have a man's children" is wrong, and why many, many people in this adult fandom - that is largely comprised of women! - might find such a theory, and the resulting discourse, incredibly upsetting.

Infertility hurts; not having a kid when you want one can be viscerally painful. Besides that, I know very few people who have given birth who don't carry around some sort of emotional or physical trauma from doing so. Treating a character's hypothetical infertility with one man as a joke is gross.

Please don't call Gwyn "damaged goods" or suggest that Azriel would choose somebody else over Elain because she couldn't have his kids.

They are the same thing.

It's not hard to be kind. Pain is not a competition.

We should all do better, and take care of each other.

[0lshadyl0]

Hi would it be alright to request yandere romantic hcs for Naruto please with a female reader if possible maybe she was part of his team in his younger days ; love to see what you come up with ^-^

I love this question, especially because of the concept of being a teammate, basically being the third member of team 7, since I think that another female character should have been the tri-lead and not Sakura (It's not that I dislike Sakura, in fact, I feel that she is a character with a lot of potential but undervalued by her author who only went out of her way to develop Sasuke. Sakura is a wasted potential like almost all the women in the series, which It makes me think that Kishi doesn't know how to write women… or he's lazy because they aren't Uchihas or Sasuke)

In fact, I am thinking in the future of making a fic with a team 7 made up of Sasuke, Naruto and Hinata, since they are the respective reincarnations of Indra, Asura and the descendant of Hamura, but that will be for another post

yandere Naruto Romantic Headcanons

Well, here I am going to develop Naruto in his early age, that is, Naruto from the first part of the series, it does not include shippuden, the last and I will pretend that Boruto does not exist (don't ask me questions about Boruto, I didn't see the series and I am not interested beyond the concept of Boruto's visual power but only because it would be a development of the byakugan not because I am interested in the character), so here we will see the child version of a twelve-year-old yandere Naruto (if I remember correctly, that's how old he was at that time) until he leaves the village with Jiraiya, keeping this in mind, let's continue

We all know the sad story of Naruto and how painful his childhood was, without parents, hated by the entire village, without friends and all that drama

The important thing is that from all that negligence and lack of human interaction, the need was born in him to attract attention in any way possible

basically what I want to say here is that he would turn yandere for literally anyone who pays him the slightest bit of attention and above all, this is key, who treats him well

I'm not talking about great charitable gestures or kindness, I'm talking about treating him with cordiality, basically the first principle of a decent human being (yes, that's how badly he's been treated)

He would trust you 100% if you approached and proposed to be his friend (let's remember part of a flashback in some filler chapter where he went into a dangerous forest to look for a kunai from an enemy ninja of the village just because some stupid and very bad-hearted children said that they would be his friends if he brought said weapon, basically sending him to die if it weren't for Iruka-sensei)

Another thing is that Naruto is tremendously obsessive, just look at how he behaves with his teammates, that will not compare to the obsession he developed with you.

and we must take into account, here Sakura does not exist in his head, you are the prettiest girl in the village and he has made his intentions very clear to you that in the future he wants to be your lover (boyfriend, in a innocent way since he is a kid)

He will not see mistakes or defects, he will fight with Sasuke or Kakashi if one of those two scolds you or disrespects you

he will not like your friends, not because he is jealous or that he thinks they are going to steal you from him, but it is more because of his insecurity and fear of being alone again, that is something you can repair If you make your friends also friends with him

He is clingy to the extreme but not very observant in the sense that he won't always remember your favorite color or food, but at least he remembers special dates.

your enemies are his enemies and he does hold grudges against people who hurt you

He will also see you as someone above him and everyone, he is like a worshiper (remember how he thought well of Sakura? It's the same but amplified) you are a being incapable of making mistakes in his eyes

His beloved's opinion is very important to him, so much so that it is above anyone else, above his teacher, Sasuke, Iruka, the ramen guy or even the Hokage.

At this stage he will be a little annoying, irritating and clingy, but nothing dangerous, a child in love, the most dangerous thing about his yandere side would come out later when his crush stops being childish.

[personasintro]

One Time Thing | 01

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; what are you going to do when your best friend asks you to have sex with her boyfriend?

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jimin x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: best friend's boyfriend au, angst, fluff, smut

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, oral sex (f.), protected sex, breast play

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k+

𝐚/𝐧: I've decided to rewrite and repost this entire series. It's one of my first series on this blog, have been put on-hold for the longest time ever. It still is... not gonna lie, rewriting this story brought me mixed feelings about this. I'm not sure if it's worth posting and writing – so please if you like this story let me know! The future of this story depends on you (literally) because I've been thinking about deleting it. I'm just not sure if ppl will like it, so if you do please let me know. Don't ask me how I came up with this story idea lmao I don't even know but I always come out with the weirdest ideas ever.

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ (links to be added)

“What?!”

The scream rips out of your throat, loud enough to make your best friend cringe at the loudness of your tone. But you don't care. You don't seem to focus enough to care. No other words leaving your mouth while you stare completely shocked at her. You just can't seem to believe what she just said. Your rapidly beating heart says it all.

No, you must've heard her wrong. She definitely didn't say it and you misunderstood her. That's right. But then she speaks again, repeating her once said words that make you stop breathing.

“I want you to sleep with my boyfriend.” she says like it's nothing. She makes it sound as if she’s asking you to water her plants or some other dumb request.

“What the fuck?!” Horrified by her words, you scream again. “Oh my god. I know what’s happening.” you say with a hand over your chest, where you can feel every beat your heart makes.

“You know?” she asks, genuinely surprised with her eyebrows raised.

You nod. “You’re pranking me, aren’t you? It’s because I gave you vodka instead of water you asked for that one time. You’re pranking me back.” you laugh as you shake your head.

She looks at you dumbfounded looking at your crazy state. You're laughing like a maniac, wiping your non-existed tears as she only stares.

“Woah, you almost got me!”

“I’m not pranking you, Y/N. I’m serious.” she says with an absolutely serious face expression.

Your smile drops as you check her face. There's a beat of silence. You've never been more confused than you're now. Nevertheless, you still wait for her abrupt laugh, telling I got you or anything that could prove her prank worked. But she doesn’t. In fact, she doesn't do anything as her features twist into a slight worry. She isn’t the type to prank anyone anyway. Staring right back at her, you find nothing but seriousness and that's when you know. 

She’s telling the truth. This is no prank.

“W-wait... are you serious?”

“Hundred percent yes. Let me explain this to you. I know it sounds crazy.”

“You think? This is the craziest shit you’ve ever said and you said a ton of it.” you deadpan, ignoring her silent laugh.

“I know this sounds really crazy and you’re probably thinking what the fuck did I just tell you...” she trails off but then suddenly laughs once she has a perfect view of your wide eyes and open mouth. What the hell is she on? Has she been doing drugs?

“I-I don’t get it.”

“Well, the thing is.. me and Jimin haven’t been really sexually active.” she starts explaining, your head shaking in a shock.

“I still don’t get it.” you interrupt her, causing her to roll her eyes while silently telling you to shut up with her expression.

“If you would just shut up and listen to me.”

“Okay I’m really curious how you’ll explain this.” you remark.

“We haven’t had sex for like months. Since I’m on birth control, I don’t know why but I don’t really want to have sex. The thing is I get horny but not to the point I want to act on it. I already tried to consult with my gynecologist but she just told me it’s completely normal for me to feel this way and that it has something to do with hormones or whatever,” she explains, not forgetting to roll her eyes as she sighs before continuing.

“She told me it’ll stop eventually. I already tried different birth controls. Jimin suggested I should stop using it but I don’t want to get knocked up. I feel much safer with birth control. But lately... we’ve been having these arguments about it. I kind of lashed out at him telling him he can fuck whoever he wants and I wouldn’t care. I’d just get so annoyed everytime he wanted to have sex. And I feel so bad because it’s not Jimin’s fault. I should be able to please him but blowjobs don't cut it this time. It’s just not enough.”

You blink, trying to let her words sink in. Once you get yourself together, at least enough to process her words, you lick your lips.

“But sex isn’t everything. You love each other so much and your relationship shouldn’t be based on sex.” you say truthfully while looking at her saddened face.

Now that the shock is fading away, you realize she's absolutely serious and this goes much deeper than you thought. All of this makes her frustrated.

“I know. Jimin is the kindest person I know. He told me that it’s okay and we don’t have to have sex but I know how much sexually frustrated he is. I feel like I’m such a bad girlfriend. After our argument we had this long conversation about it and then I was kind of thinking about you,” she says, her eyes nervously flicking to yours as you blink at her with a terrified look. “ You haven’t gotten laid in a long time always complaining how you’re not interested in having sex with a complete stranger. And I know you mentioned Jimin’s hot in the past so..”

“So what? You want me to have sex with him just because I said he’s hot? I said that about tons of men already.” And she doesn't see you having sex with all of them.

“Yeah but he thinks you’re hot as well.”

“What?”

What did she say? She has shocked you already too much today. You swear you're about to have a heart attack.

“He told me before we got into a relationship.”

That’s right. Mina and Jimin started as friends with benefits. They still slept with other people but after some time they became exclusive. After that they started dating and here they are. In a relationship completely in love.

“The thing is I know that you’re one of the kindest people I know. You always had my back and helped me with everything and I’m so grateful for you! And I know that you’ll not catch any feelings for Jimin.”

“I’m not that sexually frustrated that I need to have sex with your boyfriend. That’s ridiculous.” you say, sounding almost offended. “I barely know him.”

It's true. There are a few occasions where you and him see each other. Most of them happen at Mina's place and he happened to come there while you were there as well. It's not like you and him haven't talked. You do talk – casually but that's it. Nothing more. Plus, you're already busy with school and the only person you get to hang out in your free time is Mina. And Mina only. Well, there's Yoongi too – your other very close friend.

You could probably count on your fingers how many conversations you've had with Jimin. Not many, that's for sure. Most of the stuff you know about him is from Mina anyway. It's not like Jimin shares his personal life with you.

“That’s why it wouldn’t be so weird.” she says and you look at her completely dumbfounded by her words. Is she high? “I know it doesn’t make any sense right now.”

“I’m still shocked this isn't a prank.” you admit while you play with your nails. “Won’t you be jealous knowing me and Jimin are having sex?” The sudden thought crosses your mind. Not that you're seriously considering this stupid plan of hers!

“It’s just a one time thing. And no. I already told you how desperate I am. I need your help but I know how weird of me it is to ask you of this. You don’t have to do it. I’ll completely understand you. But you’re the only person I trust with Jimin.”

“B-but what about him? Isn’t this weird for him too?”

“Actually he had a pretty much similar reaction to yours when I first proposed this. He was hesitating about this but then he agreed to it.”

“I-I don’t know what to say to be honest.”

“Here, drink this.” she says, giving you your cup of tea she made for you. “I know you probably need something stronger than tea.” She tries to joke.

“Damn right. I could use a bottle of vodka right now.” you mumble before you take a few sips of your tea which by the way – doesn't calm your nerves. Not even one bit.

It feels like your head is about to blow up. Never in a million years you've imagined Mina would come for help about something like this. You do appreciate that she shares such a personal matter with you. But you're still not quite sure why she wants you to help. Sure, she explained herself and you're not dumb to not notice how much this truly frustrates you. But still. This has to be the dumbest ask of help you've ever experienced.

Averting your gaze elsewhere, your mind goes spiral and your thoughts wander to the mentioned man.

Jimin is handsome. There’s no secret in that.

You remember the first time you saw him. It was at a party and your mouth dropped once you were met at his sharp jaw, black hair and thick lips. All of these features make him mesmerizing and unique. After the party, you saw him in your art class but you've never talked to each other during it. He remained this mysterious guy everyone was looking and drooling at. Only if you would've known him a little bit more, you could've said you had a tiny crush on him. But can you say you had it? You didn't even know his full name back then.

And then Mina met him.

Somehow they bumped into each other and soon enough, they started to have this weird friends-with-benefits relationship. You've never drooled at him anymore. It didn't feel appropriate. Not when your best friend was having sex with him at any opportunity. It felt weird to think about him that way. Of course, he never stopped being a hot piece of man – you're not blind. You've blocked every nearly inappropriate thought of him.

Mina's voice cuts off your thoughts of her boyfriend.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. Not at all. I’m okay with whatever answer you’ll give me. I just had to try this with you because I’m so desperate. It’s been months since we had sex.” Her eyes turn glossy, sounding just as desperate as she says she is.

Knowing your best friend you're aware that this is something deep. This really must’ve bothered her when she came with this to you. She wouldn’t ask this of anyone else. Not when she’s completely in love with Jimin.

Have you ever imagined having sex with Jimin? Yes.

But do you still want it when he’s your best friend’s boyfriend? Not so sure anymore.

That sounds completely fucked up. Even if she seems to be okay with it.

Even when you don't want to admit it – Mina was right. You haven’t had sex for couple of months as well. You just didn’t want to hook up with someone you don't know, even if there were many opportunities for you to do so. You've always been picky about your taste and sex partners.

The last time you had sex was with your ex and that’s it. You've never had sex with someone who you weren’t dating with. It just wasn’t your thing. Still isn't.

What should you do? The decision is up to you. You could simply tell her no and then you would never have to talk about this again. But the desperation filling her face and the lack of sex in your life beg to differ. There's seriously something wrong with you because you catch yourself considering this. As if it already wasn't enough, Jimin's plump lips make their way into your brain. Argh! There's undeniable guilt pinching deep inside your chest because you're thinking about his lips when he's Mina's boyfriend. You can't help it.

Just the thought of seeing Jimin naked and feeling his skin against yours makes your skin hot already. Mina has opened the closed door now. Under different circumstances, you would've never dared to think of Jimin like this. Not anymore.

The lack of excitement and lust in your busy life is the cause of this. You suddenly start to imagine how this one time thing can be beneficial to all three of you.

Much to your surprise, you shock yourself and Mina when you mutter; “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Mina throws herself at you, clutching you to her body while you stay frozen, not being able to react in any way. You've no idea how this is going to go.

You are hoping you won’t regret your decision. This sounds already fucked up.

It takes only two days for Mina to set up a meeting with Jimin. You hate how businessy that sounds. Mina's idea consists of you and Jimin meeting somewhere alone, right before you jump straight to it. You're not sure if there's a point of getting to know each other a little bit better. However, she does have a point in making you two talk and make sure this is what you both want. You're not opposed to that. You definitely want to hear Jimin's opinion about this. Plus, Mina has never failed to remind you that you can back out whenever you want.

Even though you've tried to calm down your nerves and tried to tell yourself that this doesn't have to be any more awkward and weird than it already is – you just can't seem to shake off the nervosity flowing through your body. You're supposed to meet your best friend's boyfriend, talking about potentially hooking up together.

Mina gave Jimin your number which resulted in him texting you first. You don't think you could've made the first step. Not that it's required of you. It's them, well Mina, who came to you for help. As much as you'll get something out of this, potentially, they're the first ones who need help. It's not like you need one. All of this could be beneficial to you too.

Besides, you'll see how you and Jimin will get along and how the entire conversation will go.

You've agreed to meet at a local coffee shop, trying to keep it as casual as possible.

You wouldn't lie if you said you haven't considered backing out before even meeting Jimin. You're still not sure if you can face him and act all casual about this. In the end, you decide to keep your cool and at least try to see where all of this is going. Plus, you would feel bad for standing up Jimin. Or anyone who would be in his place.

Still, you nervously swallow as soon as you find Jimin sitting at a table, waiting for you. His phone is in his hand as he browses through it for a moment, just before he puts it back on the table and looks up. Your eyes lock shortly after and you realize there's no backing out now. You have to get there and meet him.

Maybe Jimin can sense your nervous state, or sees the way you hesitate but then he sends you a wide smile, waving you over. Gosh, you feel so weird. Not trying to block the entrance, you walk up to the table where he sits before you plop on the opposite side of him.

Seeing him this closer causes a lump to create in your throat. You're aware of his eyes on you as you pull out your phone out of the pocket of your jeans, trying to busy yourself before you have to truly face him. But all of this takes seconds and you're forced to lift your eyes up.

Brown hair parted in the middle, his eyes crinkle at the ends as he speaks softly; “Hi.”

It's been a while since you've heard him. Damn, you haven't seen him for weeks. That's if you don't count the art class you share. But even there, you barely paid any attention to each other.

“Hey,” you gulp, swallowing down the nervosity.

Before you can say anything more, the waitress comes to your table to take your orders. You order the first thing that crosses your mind which is a cherry tea. Jimin orders the exact same order looking slightly nervous. He doesn’t even look at the menu automatically saying 'same as her’.

“So,” he starts, chuckling and for the first time, you notice he's nervous too. “I don’t even know how to start. This is so weird.” he admits.

That makes you crack a grin.

“Tell me something about it. I thought I would run away as soon as I came here.” you laugh at yourself. Jimin joins your laughter, his top teeth sinking into his bottom juicy lip. God dammit.

“I’m going to be honest with you. I already know what my answer is and I’m not gonna change it. But if you feel like you want to back out you always can. I don’t want you to think this is something you have to do. Not for me or Mina. That’s our shit we pulled you into.” he says almost the exact same words as Mina. They both wanted you to know you don’t have to do this. And you know. God, you know - but you still want to do it.

“I know,” you smile at his caring gaze he is giving you. “But is this really something you want to do?” you ask just to be sure.

He smiles a little bit at your question. “I’m not going to lie. When Mina came to me with this idea I freaked out. But then it sounded kinda… good in some weirdest way possible. I love Mina but this is something we both agreed on.”

“Yeah, but like... I’m her best friend. Isn’t that weird?”

“It is. But I don’t really know you that much, no offense. I know you’re her best friend. She never shuts up about you but at the same time I don’t know you. No offense.” he says again, checking your reaction as if he's waiting for you to get offended.

“None taken.” you chuckle when he protectively puts his hands in front of him.

“So do you want to do this?” he asks, tone dropping lower as he stares into your eyes.

You bite your lip and without thinking you nod.

“Words. I need words Y/N.” Your name from his lips already sounds addicting.

“I do. I want this.” you speak softly, giving him the exact answer he wanted. He smirks a little bit, his sweet behavior changing to a cocky one for a bit.

You shake yourself out of the daze before it can erupt as you find your voice again.

“This is just a one time thing, right?”

“Of course.” he immediately agrees.

What kind of mess did you get yourself into?

It’s the D-day.

That sounds awful.

It’s time for you to have sex with Jimin. That sounds even more awful. You feel completely nauseous and nervous. But not in the way that makes you want to turn around. It probably sounds ridiculous and considering the situation and relationship between all three of you – you trust Jimin. You might not know him well enough, but he's familiar. He's no stranger. And from Mina's words back from the days they only hooked up, there is something to be excited for.

Which reminds you that Mina is working her shift, aware of you and Jimin hooking up today. You still can't believe she's fine with all of this and after numerous questions of whether she's sure of this or not, she has finally managed to convince you that yes, she is more than fine.

Since they relationship has started with sex, there's a chance that it's not important to their relationship that much anymore. You're not sure how they'll solve this in the future. Will Jimin fuck other girls?

Before you can burden your already ready-to-burst brain, you knock on Jimin's front door. Your jeans work as the best surface for you to wipe your sweaty hands against.

Why the hell are you constantly so nervous? Is it because you're about to have a sex for the first time in a while? Or is it because it's with Jimin out of all people? You're not sure.

The door opens and reveals Jimin.

He's wearing jeans with a black belt, with a matching black shirt tucked into them. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, exposing his forehead and brows to you as he shoots you a polite smile. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you almost stutter, but still give yourself a mental high-five for not stuttering.

Jimin eyes stay on your for a moment. He can probably see your nervous state. Hell, you aren’t even hiding it. You can’t but you wish you could.

“Please come in.” he says politely instead, moving to the side as he gives you a space for you to come in.

The moment you step inside, Jimin closing the door softly behind you, you note the scent of wood and something sweet. You can't put a finger on what it is, but it smells really nice.

Understandably, you've never been to his place. There wasn't any need to – let alone the opportunity. As you take off your shoes and let Jimin guide you deeper into his place, you silently take it in. You will give him points for a good taste in furniture and decoration. You're not sure what you've expected – not that you thought about what his place looks like – it still takes you by surprise. It's quite surprising seeing his home so beautiful. It's definitely modern with a personal touch of Jimin. Most men's homes are usually a big mess.

“Do you live alone?” you ask behind him, slowly following him.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you feel alone here all by yourself?” you ask curiously once you stop in the living room. Jimin motions for you to sit on the white couch and you obey, seating yourself on the soft mattress.

“Mina is here most of the time, so no.” he answers.

Your movements stop for a moment at the mention of your best friend.

“Oh, sorry. I should not mention her right now.” he awkwardly scratches the back of his head as he gives you an apologetic look. He sits on the other end of the couch, looking more comfortable with his arm stretched over the headrest.

“Why not? She’s your girlfriend after all.” you say, shrugging your shoulders. You assure him that it's okay and there's no need for him to act like Mina is not existing. However, it is weird no matter what. The last thing you want to be reminded of before having sex is Mina. You already feel so fucking weird about this and him talking about your best friend doesn’t really help.

“She is but due to our circumstances it’s not fair to you,” he says, “Do you want anything to drink? Water, coffee? Maybe some alcohol?”

He wants you to feel as comfortable as you can. If giving you some alcohol would help, then so be it. You kindly shake your head though. “Nah, I’m good.”

He nods as awkward silence surrounds you. You both look at each other and suddenly start to laugh. “This is so awkward. Are we supposed to jump right into it?” you ask laughing at how ridiculous this situation is.

“I mean.. we could. I don’t mind.” he surprises you with his words. Especially how simply they fall out of his lips.

Staring at each other, something stirs deeply inside your stomach and you recognize the little excitement. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you smile. “I suppose we could.”

He offers you his hand which you gladly take. His hands clasps around yours without interweaving your fingers. He leads you into his bedroom which is even more beautiful than the living room. He has a massive bed at the end of his room. Two night tables on each side. Big closet with mirror opposite of it. You can see some art decorating his walls but it still looks minimal.

“A-are we.. you know.. in here?” Great, you've stuttered.

“You know. You can say it straight away you don’t have to sugarcoat it.” he chuckles a little bit while closing the door behind you.

“Fine. Are we gonna fuck here?” you ask straight away and look his way.

He has a little smirk on his plump lips which he licks.

“That’s how I like it,” he mumbles more to himself. “We could move to the living room or any place you’d like.” he suggests while your cheeks burn. Did he just implied you could fuck perhaps in the kitchen if you wanted to? He absolutely did.

“No, this is fine.” you say after a while. You are more fine with this actually. You just feel weird thinking this is where he and Mina sleep together.

“I know what you’re thinking. Me and Mina haven’t had sex for so long. But you already know that.”

How is he able to read you so well when he barely knows you? “That’s why I’m here.” you say quietly walking to his bed. You touch his silky sheets which must’ve cost fortune.

“Do you want to back out?” he asks suddenly. You turn around finding him staring at you with his dark eyes. His stare changes. He isn’t looking at you innocently and friendly like a few minutes ago. You can see one thing you were sure of. Lust.

You bite your lower lip shaking your head.

“Words, Y/N.” he speaks sternly. You immediately remember the day when you met at the coffee shop. He wants you to say it out loud.

“Fuck me, Jimin.” you speak loud enough for him to quickly walk up to you.

Grabbing your face he presses your lips together. Other than being in complete awe that Park Jimin is kissing you now, you hold yourself back from moaning when his delicious soft lips taste way better than you've ever imagined. Mina is damn lucky. Your lips melt together so fast and you can’t breathe. The build up frustration of the lack of sex – on both parts – seem to get the best of you. Once Jimin pulls away to catch his breath, you both breathe heavily as he doesn't move away, pressing his forehead to yours instead. Your breath catches in your throat from the close proximity. You can smell his aftershave and fragrance that practically oozes from him. Not just that but the raunchy sex appeal as well. His lips taste like a cherry lip balm and there are traces of mouthwash on his tongue.

You wonder if this isn’t weird for Jimin. Kissing you while his girlfriend is away and she knows about this. This is so fucking weird but you can’t help yourself and kiss him again despite the lack of your oxygen. You don't know what gets to you. It's probably desperation. You don't want to talk about who he truly is. You don't want to think about Mina. You're doing this to enjoy this. You will treat him as he's just a normal guy, with no attachments to you or anyone you know.

Pushing him against his chest, he lets you push him down onto the mattress. He smirks at the dominance. You're trying to stay unaffected as you climb onto his lap. He lets you, hands hovering over your hips before he holds you there. The moment you sit down, your mouth opens once you can tell his cock is hardening. The bulge in his jeans is not that hard to notice now.

It's not like you're not wet. Fuck, you're dripping wet – you can already tell the discomfort between your legs. What you find ridiculous though, is the fact that you're not sure you've ever been this aroused and wet for your ex boyfriend.

He's barely touching you and your whole body is on fire, desperate to tear his clothes off to see what he's hiding beneath them. Jimin stares up at you, the little smirk still playing on his lips as he squeezes your hips. You start kissing his jaw and neck, inhaling secretly his scent again while you're careful not to leave any marks. A visible proof of what you're about to do – what you're already doing – is not something Mina should see. Even if she knows. You would feel like a complete idiot if she had to see Jimin and find any marks on her boyfriend.

Going back to his face and lps, you connect them again in a heated kiss even though you don’t want to kiss too much. Well, not that you don't want to but you're not sure if it seems right. After all – kissing is too intimate but you can’t help it. His lips are so addicting you always have to dive for another taste.

Your body screams for more, so you slowly grind yourself against his bulge. Throwing your head back at the sudden friction and slight relief it brings, you can't believe you're fucking doing this. Jimin is not unaffected either, he grunts as he squeezes your hips tighter, all while he helps you grind against him. He puts more pressure, leaving both of you gasping.

“Fucking hell.” he moans loudly, embarrassed how quickly out of control he is.

But you're too oblivious to his inner embarrassment, having no idea what he's been through despite Mina letting you the main problem. The truth is, his hand doesn't do its job anymore. Jerking off in the mornings or in the shower is not thrilling anymore. Not when he has a beautiful girlfriend, whom he has wanted to touch everytime she just laid beside him only in her underwear. He knows the lack of sex has made his hormones go crazy. That's understandable. It's not like he sees her as a sexual object, not at all. He was completely fine with the occasional blowjobs or handjobs (when she didn't want to mess up her make-up). But the truth is, sex might not be the most important part or thing in their relationship, it's still a key to a healthy relationship in some way.

And he did touch her. Sometimes. But it was more of him waiting for her to lash out at him. He is walking on eggshells when it comes to her. That eventually made both of them frustrated in their own ways.

He wanted to fuck his girlfriend so many times, but she was never in the mood.

But here you are. Grinding on his cock, looking like a perfect mixture of angel and devil at the same time. All of a sudden, he halts your movements and is met with your confused eyes.

“Okay you had your fun.” he chuckles deeply, biting harshly on his lower lip when he feels his hard cock poking you at your clothed entrance. You look just as fucked out, but you still find yourself to ask.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no,” he replies immediately. You are ready to laugh at that, but the only sound leaving your lips is yelping when he turns you over. He smirks when he sees your surprised stare by the sudden movement and how easily he has managed to flip you over. “My turn.” he rasps, diving his head to your neck.

Jimin mimics your movements from earlier. You suddenly feel him sucking your skin, too fucked out to tell him to stop. You don’t mind it. You find it so hot. You find him so hot.

“Is it okay for me to undress you?” he asks with a soft tone and gaze.

“Go ahead.” you nod at him.

You see his sweet smile before his fingers work on your button and zipper. You help him undress your jeans leaving you in your shirt and white underwear. You see him biting his lower lip again before he continues to take off your shirt. You are left in your underwear in seconds. The white bralette is complimenting your breasts and Jimin feels like salivating at the pure sight. Fuck, he needs to get himself together.

Jimin is unaware that you've picked your best underwear set you have in your closet. As much as he's not aware how guilty you feel for trying for him. You wanted to look good for him. It’s not like you want to seduce him. You just wanted to look your best. You still don’t understand what Jimin sees in you, or more accurately, why he had agreed to do this with you.

It seems like he wants to say something but he stops himself before pulling your panties down to your ankles. He tosses them on the floor not caring where they’re going to end. His gaze is locked up at your spread legs. Insecurity is already crawling through your whole body. You are about to clasp your legs when he stops you. Giving you a small smile seconds before he opens his mouth.

“Can I go down on you?” he asks suddenly. You lift your head and look at him surprisingly.

He wants to eat you out? Well damn, you're shocked again. You thought you’ll just have sex and that’s it. No foreplay. Not that you're complaining.

“Yes.” The answer comes immediately. And then you feel hot breath where you most need him.

He licks your pussy, having a taste of you. You moan loudly, throwing your head back in pleasure. You arch your back wanting nothing more than to touch him. But you know better and grab silky sheets instead.

“Oh my god!” you moan when you feel his tongue at your hole before he presses further. “Fuck Jimin!” You feel yourself clenching around his tongue.

He fucks you with his tongue, his two fingers pressing against your clit. He has experience, that's for sure. All this time you've craved someone else's touch and now you're getting it. You're way more sensitive which makes your orgasm approach faster than ever. You don't want it to end. Grabbing Jimin's hair and pulling onto them gently, still careful not to hurt him, you give him a silent plea of stopping. But he still keeps going, feeling you getting close.

“Stop, Jimin.” you moan and he immediately pulls away.

Mouth drenched in your wetness, his worried eyes are on you just as you breathe heavily, ignoring the feeling of disappointment your body feels. Your walls clench around nothing.

“Just fuck me. I can’t wait any longer.” you breathe, trying to calm down yourself. He immediately relaxes, something you notice just as he sits back on his knees.

“So greedy.” Chuckling he undresses himself.

You're watching his every movement while he watches your lustful gaze. He feel his chock twitching at your already fuck out state. You watch him pull his boxers off revealing his cock. You don’t know what you were expecting but damn is he thick. Knowing it's been a while since you've had sex, you wonder if he's going to fit.

“You mentioned you’re clean, right?” he asks, suddenly stroking his cock casually. You remember your conversation you had in the coffee shop. You both got tested and you’re both clean.

“Are you ready?” he asks for the last time.

You're about to nod, noticing the way he lifts up his brow as if he knew what you're about to do. Clearing your throat, you remember he wants to hear you.

“Yes.”

He chuckles at this knowing exactly what was going on inside your head.

He leans over you as he opens a drawer of his night stand. He pulls out a condom already ripping off the package. He gets back into his previous spot – he moves between your spread legs and puts the head of his cock at your entrance. “God, you’re so wet.” he says, almost fascinated.

You cringe at yourself when you find yourself almost saying just for you. He gathers some of the wetness onto his cock. He is about to tease you but god, you make it so hard for him. Spreaded in front of him like this completely naked. He says to himself little fuck it and slowly enters you. You want to squeeze your eyes shut but you don’t. You look at him through your hooded eyes. His eyes are closed and pleasure written all over his face.

“How are you this tight?” he grunts when he fills you to the brim. God, he's so thick. The words make you clench around him automatically. “You good? Can I move?” he almost begs but still stops to make sure you’re okay with this.

“Yeah, move. Please.” you whimper -  the feeling of pain and pleasure becoming too much for you. You need him to move.

“As you wish, princess.” he suddenly says completely surprising you with the pet name. He probably got lost in the pleasure, you guess. And he does as he says.

He starts slowly but it feels like he can’t keep going slow as he fastens up his pace. His left hand grabs your hips so you wouldn’t move too much. His other hand takes one of your breasts, squeezing gently as his thumb brushes over your nipple.

“Have you been fucked like this?” He grunts, keeping his rapid pace. Moans escaping your lips. “I asked you something.” he growls pinching your nipple causing you to arch your back moaning loudly.

“No. No one fucked me like this.” You answer between moans grabbing his hand that's on your breast. You stare at the veiny hand, enough to make your eyes roll back. What a fucking sight.

“I’ll fuck you properly. Don’t worry.” he smirks and starts to go even rougher and faster. You don’t think that was even possible.

“Fuck.” you moan, aware of the loudness and momentarily, you think of his neighbors hearing you. All of it is gone when Jimin speaks through clenched teeth.

“Moan my name.” he gasps.

You hesitate, not sure what to do. But his hand leaves your hip and instead comes around your neck. Your eyes widen, walls tightening when he squeezes slightly. Not too much – you barely feel it.

“I said, moan my name Y/N.” he growls like some beast having you moan his name again and again. You feel your orgasm approaching still not wanting to cum. It’s too soon for you. You could go for hours like this. As much as embarrassing it is to admit.

“Cum for me, princess. Cum around my cock.” he keeps grunting from above you and the blissful sound of his moans makes you squeeze him tight. The knot suddenly rips and you're cumming around him, your entire body feeling light.

You feel him twitch inside you, giving you a few firm thrusts before his moves become sloppy. Big fuck leaving his lips as he spills inside the condom. Once he's done, every drop of his cum inside the condom, he lays beside you while you both breathe heavily. You close your eyes for a bit trying to catch a breath.

Moments later, you feel the mattress dip as he moves. Opening your eyes, you see him standing up. He throws the condom into the bin that sits in the corner of his room. Sitting up, now that the moment is over you feel the weird feeling coming back.

You've never been in this situation before. What are you supposed to do? You should probably get the hell out of here. Jimin's eyes are on you, watching you and your naked figure as you quickly get to the edge of his bed, grabbing your shirt.

“I, uh, I should probably go.” you mutter awkwardly, quickly putting on your shirt followed by your panties. You don't bother to put the bra on, silently showing how quickly you want to get out of here.

“You can take a shower if you want.” he offers while putting his boxers back on.

You look at him stopping all your movements debating what to do. “Look, I don’t want to make this weird. Go take a shower, I’ll wait and then you can go home, okay? You don’t have to feel like escaping.” he says softly, but his eyes are nothing but serious.

As much as you want to leave, you kind of don’t. But the sound of shower and the thought of wiping the sweat and smell of sex sounds good. The whole bedroom reeks of sex.

“Okay.” you reply, picking up jeans from the floor.

“The first door on the right.” he tells you and with soft thank you you scurry into the bathroom.

His bathroom has a nice shower but also a bathtub on the opposite side. You quickly clean yourself thinking of how good Jimin’s touch felt. It’s too good and it’s all you can think about. You slowly shake your head thinking it’s from the adrenaline you feel right now. When you dress your clothes back on you slowly walk into the kitchen where Jimin is standing.

He turns around when he hears your footsteps. “Are you okay?” he asks you once his eyes find yours.

You nod despite feeling a big ache between your legs. He really fucked you roughly. “Do you want something to drink or eat?”

His behavior makes you a little bit surprised. He acts like nothing happened while you’re freaking out inside. “No, thanks. I should probably go.” you say awkwardly.

He escorts you to the front door where you quickly put your shoes and jacket on. When you are about to leave, his soft voice calling your name stops you. “Thank you.”

“For what? That’s what we all agreed on.” you laugh nervously. He simply nods, opening the door for you.

“I’ll see you.” he says with a little smile.

“Bye, Jimin.” you smile and quickly turn around to hide your red face.

When you hear the soft thud of a closed door, you exhale heavily.

Holy shit, you just slept with your best friend’s boyfriend. And it was fucking great.

[thechosenthree]

I am back with more Kendra haunting the narrative thoughts after watching Helpless.

This episode is all about slayers and tradition, it’s about the Watcher’s Council treating the slayers as expendable and disposable. Giles says “It's a test, Buffy. It's given to The Slayer once she— if she reaches her eighteenth birthday.”

This episode is about Kendra.

Even though the episode refuses to say her name, Kendra Young is everywhere! Not even a full season before this episode aired, we were shown— for the first time but far from the last— the tragedy of a slayer dying too young in the line of duty, another slayer rising from her grave and then her being seemingly forgotten about.

The show tries to forget Kendra the same way the council does. I’ve already talked in the post I linked above, about how Faith’s existence ensures that we don’t. But it’s more than that!! The tragedy of the slayers and what Buffy and Faith go through, the entire premise of the show, continues to remind the audience of the slayer who didn’t make it as far as them.

Buffy is going through an identity crisis this episode, she has lost her slayer powers and she doesn’t know why. Giles is in no big rush to figure it out, he doesn’t actually seem all that concerned, and Buffy grows increasingly adrift. She realizes she doesn’t know who she is if she’s not The Slayer.

She’s very aware of who she was before. She brings up Cordelia to make this comparison— her ex shadow self who is a representation of her childhood, of the Buffy she was before she was “Buffy, The Vampire Slayer”— and she seems ashamed of who she was then.

She doesn’t want to go back to being that person. She literally CAN’T go back, and she knows that. She has been changed by her experiences, even without her slayer powers, she is a different person than she was. Buffy says “I’ve seen too much. I know what goes bump in the night. Not being able to fight it— what if I just hide under my bed, all scared and helpless?”

She can’t return to the naïveté of the life she lived before she knew what was out there. I mean, she already tried that!! Buffy spent much of s1 trying to hold on to who she used to be, not wanting to let it go, not wanting to acknowledge that that girl and that life were already gone. Her death in Prophecy Girl goes hand in hand with her accepting that she can’t outrun her destiny, she can’t NOT be The Slayer.

Much of s2 was about accepting that being the slayer was a part of her life now. But Buffy continued to treat it like it was a job, one that had been chosen for her and that she’d accepted she needed to do, but a job nonetheless. She was at war with these two sides of herself, unable to see how they could possibly fit. Kendra played a big part in helping her along that journey. “You talk about slaying like it's a job. It's not. It's who you are,” Kendra tells her in What’s My Line.

Kendra who identified as “The Vampire Slayer” before identifying as Kendra. Kendra who never had a childhood or the chance to try and figure out who she was as a person. She was a weapon and a tool forged, used and discarded by the council (and the show). Being the slayer was not only who Kendra was, it was all she was allowed to be.

I can’t imagine the writers were unaware that writing an episode like this would remind people of Kendra. After all that same Buffy speech I quoted earlier includes the first mention of Kendra’s stake since it’s introduction in Becoming. “… Or what if I just become pathetic? Hanging out at the old slayer’s home, talking people’s ears off about my glory days. Showing them Mr. Pointy, the stake I had bronzed.”

Buffy is able to imagine living long enough to grow old IF she doesn’t have her powers. That isn’t the life of a slayer and she knows that, has seen the consequences of this life first hand. She herself has already died young, and a year later she watched her friend die. She goes from being unable to imagine any kind of future at all for herself to spiraling about the possible reality of a powerless one.

Buffy talks about all this while name dropping the stake a 17 year old slayer gave her just before her death… A slayer who didn’t even live long enough to be forced to endure this cruel test.

Reminding the audience of Kendra seems intentional. Which makes them refusing to say her name even more infuriating.

But she IS there, whether truly intentional or not, the show continues to remind me of her. She’s nowhere and everywhere all at once.

[artfightdramaconfessions]

post/752382771764297728 GOD, THIS I'm a somewhat popular artist in an ~average-size fandom with a couple original stories on the side and watching in real time as some people stopped treating me as a person and started acting like my work just spawned into existence for them to do whatever with as if I wasn't right there was astounding. Someone I was in a discord server with once just straight up tried claiming my own self insert as their OC??

The fact some of you are so defensive over claiming someone else's characters as your own is baffling. You can say "it's just harmless inspiration" all you want, but lifting a whole character with minimal difference doesn't qualify as just inspired. There are so many ways to make a character inspired by another that aren't this, I promise you.

I've seen comments on this blog saying "no, it's actually totally cool and if it happened to me I wouldn't mind at all" and maybe you wouldn't, true, but until it does happen to you, you don't really know how it actually feels, do you? But it did happen to me and it was fucking miserable. Same goes for "just ignore it, it doesn't affect you" because IT DOES. I ended up having to stop posting about my characters because not only was it deeply uncomfortable to experience, it was actively making me paranoid about sharing anything about them outside of my friend circle.

And specifically re "Once you release a character to the public they're no longer entirely yours, like a child growing up and moving out" My children are not my property, intellectual or otherwise. My characters are. I didn't design my kids, I didn't write their backstory, personality, or anything else about them. They make their own decisions, because they are their own people. I can't do that for them, and neither can anyone else but them. My OCs are not. They cannot make their own decisions, they do not have a life independent of what I make of them. "that comes with an amount of acceptance that they’ll be AUed to hell, and misinterpreted and that somebody will make a character based on them" being treated like this is not some unavoidable universal truth, what are you talking about. Nobody is entitled to my, or anyone else's, creative work.

TL;DR This whole debate sucks and you don't own my OCs just because I dared post about them online while having a small fan following ffs. Be better.

related post

[namazunomegami]

A healthy dose of stalker Geto thoughts

a/n: FYI, thats the result if you lock me up in an empty room with my laptop and a playlist full of mareux, NIN and MSI. At least I got a newfound love for Closer now bc some years ago a fic ruined the song for me lmao

Before you ask, yes, I have mental problems. But likes and reblogs are still appreciated <33

wc: 1919

cw: geto is fucking delulu, online stalking, serial murder, poisoning, dismemberment, geto cooks his blood into a meal, implied bondage, kidnapping, reader was abused, corruption, reader is forced to torture and kill their abuser, gore

credits: nakatsuji sakutaro for one of my fave geto fanarts ever <33, my dearest @notveryrussian for proofreading, my criminal pedagogy teacher for some interesting details about organized criminals lol and arone_cosplay on tiktok bc his scream au cosplay was the sole inspiration when I started writing

The dark content is heavy with this one so there's nothing wrong if you won't interact with this post! If my horror enthusiast bestie says that this shit is scary, believe them. Minors are gonna get kicked, obviously.

He’s definitely not that “Joe Goldberg from You” type of stalker. He despises the guy, he watches that show to have a laugh. It’s his form of disaster tourism. Geto is almost the antithesis of Joe. I was a big fan of the first season of You so let me elaborate. Joe has a savior complex and he latches onto any conventionally attractive rich woman in his proximity and tries to mold them into his ideal type (which is vulnerable, dependent, innocent, and forgiving) and when shit hits the fan he becomes a whiney little bitch saying stuff like “aww, but I did this all for you :cc” because he’s in complete denial about his crimes and psychopathic nature. Geto is the opposite, and what makes him so fucking scary is that he doesn’t need to convince himself that his actions are right. He knows he’s right.

Also, he won’t put on a fucking cap and go out on the streets to stalk you. That’s just a dumb decision, he has a job to do, and it’s easy to recognize him. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t do it in his spare time, from a comfortable distance. He only needs one of your socials and digs up every little detail about you. Your entire lore. Pictures shared by your relatives when you were just a little kid, he tracks your friends’ accounts (he wants to make sure that you’re surrounded by the right people), all the locations, cafés, restaurants you share on your instagram highlights, your celebrity crushes, all the playlists you made on spotify, everything. He gets to know you before you’re even aware of his existence, you’re an open book to him before he talks to you. It’s so easy to get a feel of your essence in the online space, use the tremendous information to his advantage, surprise you, win you over with his fake thoughtfulness.

"Aw, you’re so sweet, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess."

Yeah, a lucky guess, he just scrolled your twitter until 4 am to reach your first ever post.

The easiest way to understand how his mind works is to look at his MBTI type and I’ll try to hold myself back to not flood you all with my everlasting love for Jungian psychology and cognitive functions. INTJs are meticulous, skeptical, analytical, practical, everything is centered around a bigger, more complex system, a spiderweb of thoughts. Their subjective ideals and values have the utmost importance. They get lost in the details sometimes, but they manage to prioritize creativity and rationality in their actions and thought process. So, if we want to pick a category among murderers, he’d definitely belong into a mission oriented type (canon is my only proof for this). He couldn’t care less about money, power, or satisfying his needs for control. He’s the personification of punishment in his mind.

Evil is petty, he is petty, but not so much to just deal with every single nuisance in the shape of a person (looking at Joe again lol). He won’t go after the Karens at your workplace or the shitty classmates who just wanted their name on your assignment without any contribution. If he kills, he must kill for a valid reason and does it brilliantly. Calm and level-headed, organized, devoid of anger or any intense emotion. He makes awful lot of preparations for a kill. He studies the victim just like he studies with you. Their schedule, relationships, habits, social media presence. He’d rather arrange the scene to give the impression of an accident. Mixing cleaning products, fucking around with the heating system and letting them die of carbon monoxide poisoning or a house fire (an easy kill if the victim smokes). He rarely lets himself get carried away and get all bloody and gorey because he knows how much effort he must put into disposing of the body. But he does feel like a god during the process. That he rules over life and death. That he has the divine right to decide who should be removed from existence.

The only slightly risky thing he allows himself, is to put his earphones in and call you up while dismembering a corpse. Good thing that his grandma has no use for that big ass meat grinder, a literal jackpot for getting rid of the bodies. His voice is soothing, so sweet you can turn into a blushing and giggling mess, but you can still hear the loud chopping noises as he severs the body parts right at the joints. He shrugs it off that he’s just meal prepping.

You believe him, you don’t question him further. But he does cook a delicious meal just for you and sends it to your workplace. And you have absolutely no idea that he was thinking about cutting up the ingredients with the same knife he killed his victim with. Luckily, he changed his mind. You don’t deserve to have any remnants of a lowlife in your system. But the idea was nice, just like how modern witches tie their favorite person to them. There’s something ritualistic about blood consumption in his mind that he can’t explain. Hopefully, a few drops of his own didn’t ruin the meal. At least you weren’t complaining about the metallic taste. He doesn’t mind he has to live off on two cans of Monster because he pulled an all-nighter. You’re falling head over heels for him so it’s worth the suffering.

The only thing that makes his heart ache is that as your relationship develops, he must use you to forge his alibis. He immediately copied the keys to your apartment, without your knowledge of course. Sometimes he drops by when you’re absent, goes through your stuff, sniffs around, looking for trinkets. He comes over specifically when he plans to kill his next victim. Sneaks out in the middle of the night, kills them, then goes back to your place and crawls back next to you. And he’s as silent as a cat, as a phantom, as a ghost.

He’s a fucked up man in every aspect. You think he’s too hyper fixated on restraints and bondage. He’s far too keen to spend an excruciatingly long time arranging the rope in an aesthetically pleasing way, or have the gag’s and blindfold’s colors match perfectly. His creativity and imagination are running wild when you’re the rigger. You almost question his sanity when he asks you to use cable ties and masking tape on him. What does he want? To feel tortured? Deep down he’s fascinated with the feelings a potential victim might experience. A taste of distress, vulnerability, helplessness that he usually has no chance to feel, yet he’s thrilled about it. You still won’t suspect a thing, everybody’s got a weird kink or two that they can’t explain, right?

He knows that one day, you’ll discover his secret. That he can’t hide it forever and even though he justifies his vile actions by giving it a noble cause, he must earn your forgiveness. He deliberately kept those who hurt you mostly alive. Whether it’s a bully, the shittiest ex known to mankind, or an abusive parent. He knows he has no right to kill them. But he can bring them to your basement, gagged and tied up. The best birthday gift ever is to let you have your revenge, right? Or maybe he just wants somebody as irredeemable as him, like he’s undeserving of anything nice in life so he must break it, tarnish it, ruin it. The world is a such a cruel place for kind spirits, he feels the need to corrupt them. Bring them down to his level.

He lined up a bunch of tools, a wooden bat, scissors, knives, razor blades, a hatchet, a hammer. He transformed the basement into a makeshift rage room. You don’t dare to cry, run, or scream at him, the person before your eyes makes you freeze completely, your features are distorted in dread. An old response got triggered, your nervous system remembers those years, you’re flooded with memories. You feel yourself regressing back to the victim you once were and that’s the process that Geto wants to stop once and for all. It’s so strange that you find safety in his presence and his firm hold above your elbows. He’s looming over you like a shadow, a shroud. Like the devil on your shoulder. Cooing in your ear to pick up something and have fun, let your rage cloud your mind, make them relive your pain. Don’t worry about a single thing because he will do all the clean-up. And you have no idea why, but you accept.

It’s strangely comforting. You feel in control, all-powerful, accomplished. It feels better than it should. It feels so right but it shouldn’t. There’s no guilt in you, only endorphins running rampant in your veins. The dopamine rush enslaves you, fills your brain with white noise. The pain does fade a little or something just irrevocably breaks in you. Maybe you’re just as fucked up as him and you managed to bury it in the deepest corner of your psyche. All bottled up for years like the most exquisite French wine, chained just like a beast but now it’s freed. Your reward is a bloody pile of flesh and guts that once was a person, and utter devotion gleaming in Geto’s eyes.

Your consciousness gets clearer, you notice the sensation of being drenched in blood and sweat when the realization hits you that there’s no going back. Now, you’re sticked together for life. You know his dirty little secret and now you’ve forged your own that he can blackmail you with if you ever want to get away from him. But why would you do that? You’re everything he needs and he’s all you have.

[vibratingskull]

Hiiii I love your fics so much that I'm genuinely suffering from Yandere Thrawn Brainrot 😭 can I pretty please request Yandere Thrawn x fem reader where the reader is just accepting of his behaviour? like maybe she's a rebel who has been just abandoned by her friends so she just gives in because actually the attention he gives is really nice when she behaves or maybe she's one of the emperors daughters who is always kind of forgotten about in comparison to her sisters so Thrawns attitude isn't a red flag for her because he treats her so nice and has never once sidelined her or forgotten anything about her! I just think it's an interesting idea to play with like I'm sure Yandere Thrawn would be ecstatic to have a partner who doesn't bat an eye to his behaviour and soaks it up desperately, even the brothel fic you made could fit with Yandere Thrawn (look at how bad the brainrot is LMAOOOOO) ofc I'd have to request some smut in it like maybe he eats her out on his command chair 🤭 (that's all I can think about since the last Yandere thrawn AU you just posted haha make it as crazy as you want it to be tbh I love giving you full reign over this your smut is like high quality wine for me at this point!) Anyways! Before I get completely off track and send you a whole essay of ideas I just wanna say that I cheered when I saw your requests open and you don't have to write this idea or if you prefer to tweak it then that's absolutely fine! I hope you're doing amazing and I'm looking forward to your beautiful creations!!!

Yandere Thrawn is best boy, you cannot change my mind! He can be a murderous psycho or a complete puppy if you play your cards well. Aaaaaaaw thank you dear ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I'm really happy you like my silly stuffs, even the smutty ones (i'm so not confident about those), it will be a 2 parters !

ThrawnxF!reader

Tags: Yandere behavior (duh), possessive, painting, meet cute

You sigh, sitting alone at the table. You make your drinks twirl in your glass, silently observing the ballroom. Your hand supporting your chin you look at the couples dancing, the lively discussions around the room, the laughs and smiles, the kisses exchanged behind closed doors, and the champagne flowing freely. 

You catch one of your sisters dancing with a suitor, a metal and gaz magnate infinitely rich, they have been glued to one another during the entire party. You turn your head to see another one leading a political discussion with her natural charm, they all laugh at her witty comebacks and believe every word she speaks like gospel. You turn again to see your third sister on the stage, singing softly a beautiful melody, admired by the rest of the audience. 

And then there is you... 

The fourth. 

The last one. 

You do not have the charisma, the talent, or the political gene to rival any of your sisters. No one knows what to do with you. Everyone planned a beautiful future for all your three sisters to make the Empire shine brighter but you? Nobody has any idea. All your professors searched for a secret talent, a hidden jewel, hoping you are simply a late bloomer. 

But nothing came. 

Oh, you tried. You tried so hard! Spending sleepless nights working on your studies to at least hope for a well-made brain. But you are so average, both in looks and intellect. Nothing shines about you, nothing is worth noting. 

You sigh and finish your drink. 

Your only little quirk is your paintings. That’s the only thing distinguishing you from your sisters, you not failing art class. It is quite fondly regarded when you’re five but when you’re an adult princess of the Empire you need other qualities and skills than a good brush move. 

You just wanted to go to art school and live simply, not that overdramatic life wrapped in politics and secrecy. You wish not for the power and the riches, they bring you too much headaches. You want to leave the Palace, find a small apartment, get a cat, and for everyone to forget your existence and leave you in peace. 

But no... Not a chance. 

This very party is a shining example. It is officially a diplomatic meeting between high political top hats but the true goal of your father is to show off his daughters in the hope you find a future husband, wealthy and powerful, and then marry you off. 

Nothing more. Nothing less. 

You are a prop to your father’s politics. Good to lure a man and his funds into the imperial bank. 

And right now you are failing spectacularly. Now that you mind per se, but the man you call father and emperor will inevitably learn about that and you don’t want to anger him. You still value your life. 

You sigh again mentally preparing yourself to stand up and try to “seduce” men, feeling a headache rising, when- 

“Will you allow me to join you?” A rich deep voice makes you turn your head. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn, a hand on the back of the other chair of your table, is looking at you with a small grin and sparkling eyes. 

“Oh...” You can only say, surprised for him to spawn out of nowhere, “I mean yes! Of course Grand Admiral.” 

“Thank you, your majesty.” He bows his head. 

He elegantly sits down next to you. Even his manners are impeccable, full of grace and dexterity. You feel so slow and clumsy next to him. You see his long, delicate fingers hovering over the canapes before choosing one and lifting it to his mouth to bite into it.  

Maker, even Military officers are more dignified than you... You subconsciously straighten your back to at least match the energy he brings to the table, trying not to appear too sluggish.  

You know this man for being the first and only alien to have reached the Grand Admiral rank, which is really impressive, you will give him that. He always struck you as a balanced and polite man. He revealed himself as an art enjoyer on your first meeting and very nicely proposed himself as a model for male anatomy. You accepted and you meet every other month when he comes back from his campaigns. He lets you draw and paint his body in silence for long hours before coming to take a look and give you advice from time to time. 

And then he leaves. And that’s the end of that. 

Or it is the end of your relationship because he seems to roam around the residency aisle of the palace a lot. Numerous times you caught the back of his head disappearing behind a corner when you left your studio after a long painting session. You have no idea what he comes here for in the residency wing of the Palace, nothing interesting for a Grand Admiral around here. 

As a matter of fact, you do have an idea why he comes to this part of the Palace, you suspect he comes to visit one of your sisters regularly. And he must be seriously enamored for risking the wrath of the Emperor! You don’t even want to imagine his reaction if he discovered the Alien got access to one of his dear eldest! 

You just hope the sister in question takes her precautions to not get caught. 

That would also be a huge waste for the Grand Admiral, if an alien such as him managed to reach this rank it means he must be terribly good at what he does! Not that the Emperor shares any tactical info with you, his daughters, it is a simple observation. And he looks rather dashing too... Your vain side would be devastated to learn such a handsome man would be executed, that would be such a loss for the Galaxy you nod to yourself. 

You remain silent, observing the guests and your sisters shining in their dresses and jewelry. They are so radiant, you think with envy. Typically the type of women a man as handsome as the Grand Admiral would pursue, they are in the same league. 

Contrary to you. 

You start feeling a tingle at the back of your neck and you turn your head to discover Grand Admiral Thrawn silently looking in your direction smiling softly. You spin your head again to see what he might be watching with such tenderness in his red gaze, only to see... 

Nothing?  

You frown. 

“It is you I am looking at.” Thrawn’s deep voice rises again, with a touch of controlled amusement. 

You turn back to him with an embarrassed smile. 

“Oh, I just thought you saw... Nothing.” 

He tilts his head slightly. 

“What did you think I saw?” 

“I don’t know, something interesting.” You take your glass to your lips to sip, feeling your throat going dry. 

“But I am looking at something interesting. The most interesting person in this room.” 

Oh okay. 

You know where this is going, you know that sweet sugary tone. 

“What do you want Grand Admiral?” You put your glass back with a clank, “What demand do you want me to ask my father?” 

He cocks his head again, squinting like he didn’t understand your question. 

“I have no demand to ask your father.” 

“Of course you don’t.” You snort. 

They always do that. Come with a sweet voice and a compliment and then beg you to interfere with your father in their favor. 

You are no political genius but you recognize a freeloader when you meet one! 

“You always come to me! You think I am the weakest and easiest to manipulate for your benefit, you come with doe eyes and then ask outrageous demands, in the hope of gaining political powers. Well, I am sorry, go knock on another door!" You speak irritated but low to not start any drama. 

Vice Admiral Thrawn blinks at you. He shakes his head, trying to disarm the situation. 

"I assure you, Your Majesty, I did not come to ask any political favors of any kind.” He reiterates softly, “I simply saw you, so beautifully dressed and dolled up and could not help but come to you.” 

You sniff with disdain. Lies. If he doesn’t want political favors from your father then he wants access again to one of your sister's beds, another classic you had to deal with!  

“I am sorry Grand Admiral.” You say coldly, “I have nothing to give you.” 

His smile widens and you hear a low chuckle. 

“But on the contrary, it is me who wants to give you something, Your Majesty.”   

You look at him suspiciously as he takes something from his pocket. He puts a little box hermetically sealed in front of you. You tentatively take it and open the lid to discover a colorful powder in a tangerine shade. 

You look at him mouth agape and mute with surprise. 

“I heard you needed this shade to finish your latest painting.” He says softly, “I traveled the galaxy and found this powder made from local seashells in an isolated world. I saw it and knew I needed to get it for you.” 

This shade... 

Is the exact one you need, down to a t. 

“How... How did you...?” 

“That is not important, Your Majesty  I know how much you care about this painting and wanted to help you.” 

This painting, you saw it in your dreams. 

It was a flash of a faded memory of your dead mother, smiling at you before the sunset. Long, long ago... 

This powder is the perfect shade for her eyes... 

“Oh dear Maker...” You start sobbing, hiding your mouth behind your hand. 

“Your Majesty?” Grand Admiral Thrawn asks, “Are you all right?” 

You nod, wiping any tear that might have rolled down your cheek, getting back control over your sobs. 

“Yes... Yes. Thank you Grand Admiral, this is a very thoughtful gift.” You smile at him. 

Now you feel dumb to have given him the cold shoulder. 

But how did he know about that painting? You don’t remember talking about it to anyone? You specifically hid it behind a sheet. 

“You are welcome, Your Majesty. It is my pleasure.” 

His hand furtively reaches yours and caresses your finger with the tips of his own. You let him do it. You don’t know why. It is simply not unpleasant... 

“I just thought... I’m going to sound stupid, bear with me, I thought you wanted to use me to get close to my sisters.” You chuckle embarrassed, “It is a bit stupid...” 

“Why would I want to get close to your sisters when you are here?” He asks. 

“Because... I am just me.” You shrug like it is evident, “Nobody knows what to do with me.” 

“I have plenty of ideas of what we could do together.” He whispers, taking your hand gently to kiss it, his red eyes looking brazenly at you. 

You feel heat spreading on your cheeks. 

“Vice Admiral!” You choke “How dare... We are in the middle of a ballroom!” You chastise him. 

“We can leave anytime you desire...” He licks your knuckles with the tip of his warm tongue, looking insolently at you. 

You feel yourself melting into a puddle at that gaze on you. So many unchaste images cross his read shining eyes while devoring you. You feel stripped naked before him. You gulp and turn your head away, you cannot hold his gaze, you feel like you’re about to combust. 

He chuckles and kisses your hand again. 

“I am merely joking, Your Majesty. I know you cannot simply fool around with any man. But maybe  you will allow me this dance?” He stands up, still holding your hand but awaits your response. 

You gingerly look at him. Dear Maker, he is so tall... 

He looks at you with a small smile, gently squeezing your hand. 

“I... Can allow one dance.” You concede. 

“You are so generous with me, Your Majesty. I thank you.”  

He helps you stand and guides you to the dancefloor, his warm hand on your lower back. He spins toward you and grabs your hand, pressing your two bodies together. 

“Hold on to me, Your Majesty.” He says sensually. 

And he makes you spin and twirl on the dancefloor, holding you so close you can feel his high body warmth through your clothes. He is a very, very good dancer you realize.  

The dance starts normal and modest as it should be but it slowly dissolves into... something else.  

You can feel his large hands roaming your entire body, playing with the straps of your dress, raising the hem of your dress to touch your naked thigh, he grabs the pin and frees your hair in your back, he grabs your hips to press them against his in a sultry move, almost grabbing your butt... 

It feels like he is making love to you, fully clothed and in public. You fail to put a stop to it and protect your modesty, he is just so good at it that you blindly follow him, losing track of time. 

You gulp, losing your breath as he makes your head spin dangerously. He never once stops looking at you, devouring you with his shiny rubies, hunger lying deep in them. 

You are breathless, straps down your shoulders, your skirt high on your thighs and your legs trembling terribly, threatening to give out under you if Grand Admiral Thrawn wasn't holding you firmly against his tall body. 

“Gra.. Grand Admiral...” You can only say. 

“Is there a problem, Your Majesty? We are simply dancing, like I promised we would only do.” 

“This is not a dance! This is...” You try to get angry at him but your beating heart only pumps blood to your cheeks even more. 

“You did not stop me once.” He tilts his head, “If you said no I would have stopped immediately.” 

“Someone could see us! Someone-” 

“There are a lot of people around us. They hide you perfectly, no one will ever know. You can let go entirely, let me guide you...” He whispers sultrily in your ear.  

His hand on your back slowly caresses his way down towards your butt and his hand on your leg slowly brushes his way up towards your crotch. 

This... This is so indecent! 

So scandalous! 

So obscene! 

So... 

You should slap him across the face and ditch him there but you want more of it. You feel fire starts in your loin, slowly spreading in your veins, coursing through your entire body.  

Quite unexpectedly he lets you go. You look at him without understanding, he grins and kisses your hand gallantly again. 

“Have a nice evening, Your Majesty. Thank you for this... Delicious moment. I will see you for our next modeling session.” He rolls his ‘R’ like a purr and leaves. 

Did he... 

Is he the one who ditched you? At the height of the tension? When you were about to say ‘yes’ to him? You remain standing still in the middle of the dancefloor, mouth agape, breathless, hair and dress in a mess. You walk back to your seat, your legs wobbly at every step. 

You feel played. 

How dares he come around to set you on fire and just leave you, arms dangling, craving for so much more?! Such a ... Tease! You readjust your dress modestly, making sure none of your sisters saw anything of this... Outrageous display. None of them are looking in your direction, they are fully focused on their friends or songs. 

You sigh, feeling like an idiot. Typically a thing that wouldn’t have happened to your sisters, they would have either put a stop to it or enchanted him so much that he would have dropped to his knees, begging for more of them. 

You're the only one dunce enough to get played like that. 

But... You cannot help but like it. It felt good to be someone’s center of the universe, even for two fleeting minutes, feeling his daring hands exploring your body so... immodestly. No man ever treated you like that, even less a man so handsome... 

You shake your head. Stop that! It is blind lust speaking. 

Your eyes lay down on the little box. You reopen it, to be sure of its content. Exactly the pigment you needed, the exact shade and vibrance...  

How did he know? 

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

The first time he saw you was during an Imperial ceremony, from far away. The youngest of all the daughters, dressed in gold, pearls, and Orichalc. He was still a simple commodore back then, without as much power to himself. He was from very far away, not able to discern the features of your face, but it was clear from your body language and posture you didn’t want to be here. 

Like himself. 

Pryce was unavailable, a rarity for a shark like her to miss a political event like that, but she pressed him to go, to form alliances with as many senators as possible. How on the Warrior’s Blue Csilla was he supposed to do that? He is surrounded by sharks and snakes ready to eat each other for their selfish benefits, something so beyond him he simply forgets this is actually a thing people do instead of worrying for the good of the many... 

Saying he was terrified would be false, but saying he was comfortable would be a lie.  

It takes a lot to make him uncomfortable, but politicians always do the trick.  

So in a weird way, he felt kinship towards you. He knew nothing about you, he was not even sure of your rank at that very moment, but like him, you wished you weren't there at that moment. 

The massive difference was that he was anonymously sitting in the grandstand while you were on the big stage, to be looked at and admired like a pretty doll by everyone else. How uncomfortable it must feel... He felt sorry for you. 

Despite your discomfort, you accomplished your duties with grace, obeying your role. It was commendable of you.  

“Who are those young ladies on the side of the stage?” He leaned towards his sit neighbor. 

“Do you live under a rock? They are the Emperor’s daughters, the Imperial princesses.” He got chastised. 

He nodded thankfully and returned to his silent observation of the ceremony. 

It was not so long in retrospect, but isolated on this stage it must have felt like an eternity for you. 

After the ceremony was the real challenge for him, for two hours he had to remain comfortably seated in silence to observe a stage, now he was truly meant to go out of his way and meet politicians.  

He had to take refuge to the buffet or the corners of the room more than one time. Why can’t he read and anticipate politicians’ maneuvers? Why was he so blind to this type of warfare? After a new uncomfortable discussion that ended up with him pissing off his interlocutor because they couldn’t meet eyes to eye he caught a cozy area, almost hidden behind heavy curtains with sofas and a fountain, isolated from the rest of the busy party. He entered, hoping to find some peace and quiet but he found a young woman here, dressed in gold, pearl, and Orichalc. 

“Your Majesty.”Thrawn bowed respectfully, “I did not want to disturb your peace, I will leave.” He immediately excused himself and turned to go away 

When... 

“You may stay, sir.” You simply responded, not even looking up from your drink twirling in your glass. “I do not mind...” 

“I thank you, Your Majesty.” He bowed again and took a seat. 

Not on the same sofa as you, it would be terribly improper to impose his presence on a woman like that. He chose one a little removed from you to leave you in peace. 

He was gathering his thoughts, but you kept catching his eyes, something about you was...interesting him. And he didn’t know what, nor the true nature of his interest in you. 

“What?” You asked out of the blue, “You keep giving me side glance, you never saw a woman before?” 

“My apologies, Your Majesty. It was impolite of me” 

“Yes, it is. My father killed men for less than that.” You added acidic. 

Something in your tone and demeanor... Like a heavy lassitude, like you were crushed by something. But what? 

“I will keep it in mind, then. Thank you for the warning, Your Majesty.” 

You sniffed with disdain before looking back down to your drink. 

“So it’s you....” You finally added after several minutes of silence, “the Navy’s favorite pet.” 

He turned back his gaze to you, squinting. 

“The Navy’s pet?” He repeated politely. 

“The only alien in the Navy, and a Commodore at that. You pissed off a lot of people, my congratulations.” 

He was not able to judge if you were sincere or sarcastic. 

“I do my best to do my job. But some people never seem satisfied, I cannot do anything more to content them, I am afraid.” He humbly admits. 

“Like me.” You let out with a little voice. 

You did not say more and he did not pryied. 

“Why are you not enjoying the party, Your Majesty?” He asked, curious, “Your sisters are getting their fill.” 

You snarled in response. 

“If you came here to flaunt my dear sisters in my face you can leave, sir.” 

“My apologies, Princess. I was simply curious why a young adult would not enjoy such a party.” He explained. 

You turned your head and for the first time your gazes crossed. 

“What about you? You do not seem the type to enjoy parties either.” 

“My young years are behind me.” 

You frowned. 

“Are they?” 

Well technically he is still considered rather young for Chiss standards with their longer lifespan but for humans, he is middle-aged. But you don’t know that. 

“I am over 45.” He informed you. 

The way your beautiful human eyes rounded up in surprise was quite delectable. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“I am not.” 

“You barely look 35.” You responded astonished. 

He came to understand it was a compliment on his physical appearance. Something he was not used to. 

“I thank you, your Majesty. You look ravishing yourself.” 

He stopped dead. Was ‘ravishing’ too much? How do you respond politely to a woman appreciating your physical appearance, and what is the proper and polite response when that woman is an Imperial Princess? 

You gauged him up and down before exploding laughing. 

Not one of those overly musical and false laughs of politicians and freeloaders, a true, pure, and sincere fit of laughter. Something coming directly from the heart. 

Something fresh. 

He remained still, not knowing how to react. Your laugh was quite pleasant to hear, and the smile you tried to hide behind your hand enhanced your features gracefully.  

“Oh Maker.” You breathe to calm down, “You are quite funny, sir!” 

He failed to see what was funny in his response but he was not starting to question a Princess. You sighed deeply, still shaken by the remnants of your laugh. At least you were smiling now, that heavy sentiment hovering over you seemed to have disappeared. At least for now. 

“Thank you, your Majesty.” He diplomatically responded. 

“So tell me truly, why did you come hiding here?” You asked, a bit more lively. 

This time he was the one looking down at his drink for a fleeting moment. 

“Politics... Evade me entirely.” He finally reveals. 

“Same.” 

He looked at you curiously. 

“But you are a Princess of the Empire.” 

“That doesn’t mean I can lead. I dislike politics. I prefer my studio.”  

A studio? The type he is hoping for? 

“What type of studio?”  

“Oh ... Just.” You gave him a side glance and lowered your gaze, embarrassed “No. You will find it stupid.” 

“I will not judge, Your Majesty.” He solemnly declared. 

“I ... Paint. A little...”You revealed, fidgeting your fingers. 

His heart jumped and all of his social anxiety and restraints lifted up like a cloud. You paint? It’s marvelous news! He loves paintings, why not tell him sooner? 

“This is not stupid, Your Majesty. Art is a very noble and respectable hobby, I am a humble art enjoyer myself.” He explained calmly, keeping his growing enthusiasm on a leash. “Would you have pictures of your work to show me by any chance?” He daringly asked 

You looked at him absolutely horrified.  

Please, do not look at him like that...It displeases him, even though he doesn’t quite know why. 

He likes it when women are comfortable with him, it is gratifying to be perceived as a protector. He wants you to feel relaxed around him. 

Especially you 

For some unknown reasons... 

“I... No!” You hurriedly responded. 

He tilted his head. He wanted to see some of your work. It is so important for artists to be seen and perceived for them to flourish in their talents. 

He just wanted to give you a positive boost... But you denied him. 

“I understand.” He responded, a bit disappointed to have lost this opportunity to speak about art. 

You looked at him, embarrassed before rising on your feet to close the curtain entirely, giving the little salon a cozy and very intimate atmosphere. You took out your imager of your little purse and approached him shyly, suddenly self-conscious. 

He looked at you approaching with an impassible expression, but hope constricted his heart. 

“Do you promise to not mock me?” You asked like you weren't an Imperial Princess with significant powers. 

No. At this very instant you were a shy, but hopeful young artist, ready to expose herself intimately to a fellow art enjoyed, pressing your imager against your chest.  

You were taking a leap of faith... 

And he was ready to catch you in his arms. 

“I never mock an artist, Your Majesty.” He declared with all the serious in the world. 

You gulped and sat down next to him, handing him the imager with a slightly trembling hand. 

“This is not very good...” You warned him. 

Who cares? If you are a beginning artist with a low level he will be more than happy to give you references and art currents to study to help you in your art journey. 

But you were actually really good with a brush. No need to get all shy about it, you should be proud of your paintings! 

You studied a lot of subjects and tried a lot of different techniques and materials, your style could be soft and appeasing with pastel colors, bold and brash with vibrant brush strokes, or gloomy and eerie, creating a haunting atmosphere. 

But no matter how different your paintings might be there was one very clear constant for him. 

Your innate good and soft nature. 

Not in a fragile or virginal way, no. But something bright, shining like a real sun, luminous, warm, inescapable, and unstoppable... 

How could you be Emperor Palpatine’s daughter? 

How was that possible? 

He silently observed your work under your worried gaze, awaiting his judgment. It is clear you hid this part of yourself from everyone else, and maybe he was the very first person who took interest in your hobby, the very first one you let gaze upon yourself so intimately like that... 

Because it was very intimate, he knew it. He stripped your soul naked before him and he ogled without any shame, taking as many details as he could. 

And he very much liked what he saw. 

Where were gentle souls like yours in the galaxy? They appeared so rare and he would very much appreciate one in his life. A friend honest and deeply good by nature... 

That sounds terribly enticing to him. 

He knew nobody on Coruscant, spending his entire leaves in art galleries. But maybe now he could visit them with a nice company at his arm? Simple rendezvous filled with passionate discussions about art, speaking and debating a subject until you both lose your voices and only look into each other eyes to continue the discussion. 

That sounds terribly nice... 

But you are a Princess and him a Commodore. How would that work? He was not even sure he had the right to be in the same room as you.  

But the idea was just so nice... An art partner, being friends with an actual artist, getting to witness the intricate process of creating a masterpiece.  

That is just so alluring to him... 

“So?” you asked with a short breath. 

“This is high-quality work, Princess. You have an undeniable talent and obviously worked really hard to get to this level.” He praised, “I can only encourage you to continue.” 

“You think... I could live on my brush one day?” You inquired, hope lying in your voice. 

“It is a real possibility, I can see it happening.” He nodded with a tight encouraging smile. 

“... Thank you.” You let him knew, “I...” 

You seemed to be about to say something else but suddenly jumped on your feet, the heat signals of your face through the roof. 

“I need to go! Good evening Sir!” And like that you left him, speechless, still holding your precious imager. 

Maybe the tension of showing your art to someone else for the first time was too much for you. This was quite endearing and he let out a little chuckle amused. 

He resumed his art exploration on your imager, he will find a way to send it back to you. 

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

He didn’t sent it back. 

He kept it, he has it every day in his inner pocket, close to his heart. He rummages through it when he can, seeing you through the pictures, getting to know you through each paint stroke.  

He innocently thought about you two becoming art friends to satisfy his knowledge cravings, but instead, he developed an... interesting bound with you. 

Without your knowledge.  

He tried several times to come to see you at your art studio to give it back, only to remain at the door, silently spying on you painting through the cracked door. 

He wished not to disturb the holy inspiration flow so precious to artists. He would break your entire rhythm if he knocked at the door and stopped you. 

How could he dare disturb the process of art? Especially yours? So he remained at the door for long hours until you decided to exit the room or he heard someone come by. 

When you weren’t here he forced the door open to tidy up the place and look at your last pieces. 

But one day you were simply preparing yourself to paint so he entered. Unannounced, unwanted he walked in like he owned the place. You didn’t see him at first, focusing on your flimsy sheets when you raised back on your feet to discover him observing your latest piece with attention, his hand holding his chin, appreciating every detail. 

“Oh dear Maker!” You jumped back. 

He turned his head to you with a tight smile. 

“My apologies, Princess.” He said not at all sorry. 

“What are you doing here?!” You asked in some sort of panick. 

“Your father requested my presence today, and I had hoped to be able to catch you paint.” He mundanely explained it like it was evidence. 

“And why is that?” You asked suspiciously, hiding some sketches behind you. 

“My apologies Princess, I got ahead of myself. I have something belonging to you and wanted to give back.” 

He took out the small imager of his pocket to hand it to you. He already has several copies and backups of all your art. 

“My imager!” You shouted, relieved. “Where did you get it?” 

“You actually gave it to me years ago when I was still a Commodore.” He explains gently. 

You took the imager back and looked in the gallery, with an elated smile.  

“I don’t think I ever caught your name, Mister.” You raise back your clear gaze at him. 

Of course, you knew his name, he was the only alien of the fleet, surely his name traveled the corridors of the Palace and he knew it. But Politeness and etiquette demanded you asked. 

And you are a very polite woman. 

He put his right hand on his heart and bowed to you. 

“I am Vice Admiral Thrawn. I am delighted to meet you again, Your Majesty.” 

You elegantly bowed back. 

“I am (Y/n) (L/n).” 

“Are you not a Palpatine?” Thrawn tilted his head. 

You bite your lower lips, like you spoke too much. 

“I... Prefer to identify with  my mother’s name.” You explain. 

“It is a very beautiful name, it suits you marvelously.” He reassured you, “Do you mind if I remain for your next session? I long to observe an artist in their element.” 

“Oh well...” You spin your head towards the holo clock on the wall and all of your glee seems to melt, your smile disappearing, “I am afraid there won’t be a session today... Yet again.” 

Thrawn squinted. 

“Is there a problem, your Majesty?” 

“No its...” You sighed deeply, “Another model ditched me apparently. He should have been here an hour ago...” 

“If you allow me, your Majesty, I can replace him if you wish.” Thrawn proposed immediately. 

“I...” You purse your lips, thinking “I usually book models for three to four hours, are you sure you have that time?” 

“I do today.” He answered politely, hiding his enthusiasm, “By a splendid hasard I have nothing booked for the rest of the day. I can model for you as long as you need.” 

He very carefully planned today’s agenda to have his afternoon and evening free after his visit to the Emperor. It will postpone some operations on the Chimaera, but nothing he cannot catch up on, he made sure of it. 

You hesitated, your gaze traveling from Thrawn’s stern face to your flimsy sheets. 

It is the fifth model ditching you. 

The fifth Thrawn got rid off.  

Cleanly. 

Discreetly. 

When he entered your studio in your absence he got the occasion to detail your work and picked up on your... attraction, towards those young men. 

Something that infuriated him greatly, even though he wasn’t sure why. He never felt like that before, longing for your presence, to get to know you better and well. This is a very new sentiment to him, he desires to be with you, to listen to you talk, to help you, to just be here in the same room as you. You could be silent and still, sitting on a pedestal and he would sit and look at you with all his attention, trying to pierce your secrets. 

Why are you doing that to him? Where does this deep sentiment of covetousness come from? Right now he just wants to grab your hand and flee away from the Imperial Palace with you, take the first shuttle and take off for the never-ending universe, take you far away from that man you call father and Emperor for you both to live free. 

He always feels so cold all day long, but in your vicinity, everything warms up, the ice melts, and the sun dares from its rays on his flesh, bringing him back to life and waking him up from a long coma. Laying his gaze on you he feels like opening his eyes for the first time and taking his first breath. 

Is that... Love? 

Did Cupid finally hit him with an arrow after ignoring him all his life? 

He quite likes how that sounds. 

He wants more. So, so much more... 

But for now, he looked at you hesitating, patient, with a tight polite smile of someone only desiring to help. 

“Well... If it isn’t too much trouble for you, I would appreciate it. What about a portrait to start?” 

“But of course, Your Majesty. I am here to serve.” He bowed his head again deeply pleased that his plan worked. 

He cannot help but wonder, how do you see him? Is he handsome or repulsive to your eyes? Is he powerful or weak? 

He will soon know it through your primary sketches... 

------- 

“What are you thinking about Grand Admiral Thrawn?” You call him back to reality 

Thrawn blinks, realizing he is posing for you once again in your studio. It is quite rare that he lets his memories take the forefront of his mind but his mind drifted off observing you painting him like that. 

You took great care to not look at him in the eyes since that party and he is greatly pleased by the turmoil he stirred within you. Today again you cannot look in his direction without your face’s heat signals rising. 

How delectable... 

You draped a long fabric on him and gave him a staff to hold, ordering his pose, and started to paint. Holding the pose is hard but that only pushes him to appreciate art even more. He feels your focused gaze skimming his skin, detailing his muscles, observing the crooks and crannies of his flesh, taking in the different shades of blue of his skin. 

He feels his heart accelerating with your eyes traveling his naked form. 

He never exposed himself in such a way to anybody before. 

It is so intimate. 

So erotic... 

He feels great under your gaze, he feels... Empowered. Like he could become what he was always meant to be under your brush, that through your gaze he truly could realize himself. He feels his chest puffing up with pride and satisfaction. That surge of warmth spreading in his chest and heart when your eyes skim his skin feels so soft and right... 

“You truly have mesmerizing eyes, I hope I will be able to do them justice...” You say almost to yourself, fully focused on your sketch. 

“We could do a series of portraits after, you could study them in detail.” He proposes. 

“Thank you Grand Admiral.” You smile. 

“Please, call me Thrawn, Your Majesty. I am a simple man at your art service in this room.” 

“Then call me (Y/n).” You decide, “Let’s just be a man and a woman for this afternoon.” 

“I simply cannot, Your Majesty. You are an Imperial Princess, I cannot address you with such familiarity.” He counters. 

Who is he to address you so casually? He will not strip you down of your titles and grandeur.  

You pout, visibly displeased by his response. 

“All right...” You say very disappointed. 

He clenches his jaw, conscious of his misstep. 

“If you truly desire it, I will address you as you wish (Y/n).” He responds softly. 

But in his mind he will keep using your titles, they suit you so well. 

You nodd enthusiastically, relieved by his new response. 

“Do you want to take a look?” You ask. 

He descends from the pedestal and passes on a gown to modestly cover himself, but he doesn’t close it, coming to admire your genius on the canvas, discovering himself through your own eyes. 

You take a picture with your imager that he gave back, adding it to your collection. His heart sprints at the view of the imager in a very Pavlovian response. 

He had... other uses for your imager. 

He will never admit it, not even under torture, but... He furiously masturbated several times using your art collection on the imager. He has no rational explanation for it. One day he was terribly bothered, to his utmost inconvenience, and hoped that some nice paintings could distract him. 

But instead  

He just got such a clear picture of you, of your good nature, of your amazingly sweet personality that he became hard like wood, worsening the situation. He found a self-portrait of yourself, looking straight back at him with such a clear and assured gaze... And he just lost it. 

He fisted himself, entranced by those expressive eyes looking brazenly at him. 

He never came so hard before, his entire body struck by lightning, setting fire to his very soul. He was left breathless and disoriented, his large chest rising up and down rapidly, your impudent gaze fixing him intently. 

The high was so high the descent was devastating, leaving him craving more of you, by any means necessary... 

That’s when he decided to enter your studio for the first time. 

Thrawn discovers the canvas. 

He discovers himself slouching regally on a throne like he is presiding over a tedious political case and is about to give his royal judgment. 

You remain a step behind, fidgeting your fingers. 

“What do you think?” You ask a bit worried. 

An idea flashes in his mind, a bad idea, but oh so delicious... 

“Technically very interesting and avant-garde. But there is something...” He teases sadistically. 

“Something? What? What is wrong? What did I do wrong?” You immediately panick. 

“Are you familiar with male anatomy?” He asks, falsely investigating. 

Of course, you are familiar with it, he saw you paint it plenty of times. 

“Yes! I am!” You protest. 

“Let’s see...” He gently takes your hands to place them on his large pecs. 

Your eyes round up in surprise and your breath is caught in your throat. 

“Feel the muscles, how they are built in the body.” He casually instructs while he takes your hands for a jaunt on his body, caressing himself with your soft palms. 

“Hum... Grand Admiral?” You try. 

“Feel where they start and end, where they cross paths and attach to the bones.” He slowly pushes your hands down his abdominals. 

You audibly gasp as he directs your hands on his naked body. While your body heat skyrockets in your embarrassment and confusion, he revels in the softness of your touch and the freshness of your hands on his thick skin. 

Your touch is delightful. Delicate and tender. He has all the pain in the world to not moan in bliss... 

He presses your palms on his abdominals, pushing them farther and farther south. 

“It is very important you understand how the muscles twist and bend.” He lectures you like you didn’t already know that. 

“Grand Admiral...” You press him more and more embarassed. 

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. 

He takes another one and you do the same. 

He finally blocks you against the desk where you keep all your colors and pigments. You jolt when your back hits the wooden table, caged between his half-naked body and the furniture. He stops your hands on his groin region, right above his cock.  

He looks at your flustered face intently, how you evade his gaze and your heat signals are the worst he ever saw. He refrains from licking your face as he so desperately wants to. 

Your sex is irradiating a warm light to his infrared vision, well awake and demanding attention. He takes great pride in the reaction of your body to his daring advances, but you also appear tense. 

“Feel how my male body is different from your female body, feel it deeply... within you...” He whispers, looming forward to press his forehead against yours to look at your eluding gaze. He pulls your hands to wrap your arms around his waist as his own hands come to seize your hips, slightly slipping them under your corseted top to caress your smooth human skin. 

You cannot help the gasp escaping you, shocked to your core but indubitably... interested. Curious and craving for more. 

Still, the uneasy feeling remains in the pearl of your eyes. 

He presses your hips together and rolls his pelvis, delighting himself in your hot and bothered reaction. Your hands are trembling and sweaty but they hold on his lower back. You slowly and timidly raise your gaze to meet his, mouth agape and with a short breath. 

You gulp as he smiles, satisfied.  

Are you a virgin? Will he be your first? 

His heart pumps harder! 

You first... But more importantly your last! 

He lowers himself with a satisfied grin, but right before he is about to kiss you, he suddenly grabs your ass to lift you up and put you on the table, making you yelp in surprise. His hands lift your skirt to caress your round thighs, dividing them open to slide between them swiftly. 

His blood is beating furiously, his hands caressing and exploring your gorgeous body eagerly, mentally pesting against those useless clothes hiding your naked perfection to his burning rubies. You let out a weak moan between precocious fear and irrefutable excitement. 

Your hands circle his shoulders and you dig your nails into his blue flesh, to his utmost pleasure, pulling you tighter towards you. 

Everything comes to a halt as you look into each other eyes with heavy breathing.  

He wants you. 

He craves you. 

And he will have you! 

In one way or another, you will be his and his alone.  

He will rip you out of your father’s claws and build you a life of comfort and love.  He will hold you close and tight, showering you with adoration every day, worshipping at your feet. 

Thrawn taunts you with his lips, hovering them over your parted mouth, making your throat go dry with anticipation. He teases you with a kiss on the tip of your nose, before letting out a low growl as your gazes meet, you cannot help but moisten your plump lips with your tongue with a short breath.  

Thrawn hand seizes your lower back to pull you close and tight against him, his second hand embracing the back of your skull to pull you ever so slightly closer to his tempting grin. 

You look at each other in a suspended moment, listening to each other heavy heartbeat, feeling the sheer tension in the room before Thrawn lowers himself with the intent to kiss you. 

“Please... Do not hurt me...” You ask with a voice so low and feeble he barely hears you, tears in your eyes. 

He stops his motion. 

Why would- 

“Sorry for my late arrival Princess, I-” 

A man enters the studio unannounced, absolutely ruining the moment. You yelp in surprise, pulling on your skirt to cover your bare legs while Thrawn merely turns his upper body towards the intruder to shoot him with his glare, making no effort to cover his modesty. 

The man is clearly embarrassed to have walked in during an intimate moment, but Thrawn wants him more than embarrassed. He wants him repentant and desperate.  

“I am sorry, Sir.” You jump off the table, flustered, pushing your hair behind your ear to put up a front, “Thrawn, I present you Sir Hatway, a curator of an art gallery I invited to judge my art.” You gesture towards the impudent. 

The man clearly doesn't know what to do with himself in front of a naked Chiss. 

“Sir Hatway, this is Vice Admiral Thrawn of the Imperial Navy and one of my favorite model.” 

Thrawn heart speeds up at the compliment, but outside he is still shooting down Hatway, frowning, displeased. 

“Should I... Wait outside, Princess?” The impolite man asks. 

‘Yes he should!’ Thrawn thinks, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“No! No...” You hurriedly respond, “It is all right, you didn’t interrupt anything. We can look at my paintings now.” 

Thrawn gaze slides to you. 

What do you mean ‘didn’t interrupt anything’? He wants to ask impudently.  

He chastises himself. You are an imperial Princess. You cannot just fool around with anyone like that without consequences from your father, you must preserve your reputation. 

The insolent nods unsure, still uneasy, before turning towards Thrawn with a smile he surely hoped to be affable, but honestly is just pathetic. He takes a step forward with his hand extended. 

“Please to meet you Grand Admiral Thrawn.” 

Thrawn consciously takes his time to gauge him up and down from all his height, straightening his back to look at him with all the smugness his rank conferred him. He finally took the man’s hand to shake it. 

“The pleasure is mine, Sir Hatway.” Thrawn tightens his grip until the man winces in pain, “You will obviously not say a word of what you saw.” He asks, deadly cold. 

“N-no, sir. I saw nothing and know nothing...” He pitifully responds 

“Good...” The Chiss nods, venomous. 

“You can go, Grand Admiral.” You say, fidgeting your fingers, still visibly agitated, “We are done for today.” 

“If you allow me, Your Majesty. I am interested to witness your audition.” 

“I...” You bite your lower lips again, thinking, “All right.” You concede. 

When Thrawn exits the changing room in his pristine white uniform, Sir Hatway is no longer the pitiful man who entered the studio. He stands proudly before your paintings, detailing them and judging them imperially. 

You remain a bit behind, full of apprehension and hope. Like the day you showed Thrawn your imager. 

“This is not very good to be honest with you, Your Majesty. This is amateurish at best, and I am being generous.” 

Thrawn stops dead in his tracks. Did he hear right? 

“But I...” You try. 

“It will not be possible I am afraid. You should abandon painting entirely, this is not a world for a fragile flower like you...” 

Thrawn takes a single glance at the painting you are presenting right now. 

Your dear mother’s portrait. 

You spend long hours on this one, pouring your tears and blood in the paint to bring it to life and honor that woman. 

And that... Uncultured fool rejects it?! Calls it amateurish?! Thrawn never saw such passion in a portrait in a long long time! 

He heard enough. 

He walks to the man with three long strides, catching both of your attention. 

“Sir. I will invite you to take back your words immediately.” He said very coldly, camping in front of the fool, towering over him with all his height. 

“Who do you think you are to teach my job?!” The impudent retorted, any traces of the former shy man long gone. 

“Who do you think YOU are?! Is your heart so dry to be so blind before such a shining jewel, before such explicit talent, before such an evident masterpiece? I can not let you say such things.” 

The man looks at Thrawn afraid and confused but sticks to his guns. 

“No! It is my job to evaluate artists that wish to enter our art gallery and she doesn’t have the level expected.” 

“Can you not see she is ahead of her time? That she is avant-garde in so many aspects? I pity your gallery Sir, we must only find mediocrity inside.” 

“Are you insulting me?!”  

“You insulted her first.”  

“Grand admiral please...” You try to calm them both 

Thrawn raises his hand to sush you. 

“She has no talents, and no future in the art world. I am doing her a favor by telling her early.” He bites. 

Thrawn feels about to punch this man. 

Instead, he takes a step back and takes out his pair of gloves from his pocket, and throws them at the impudent’s face. 

“I will protect her honor, I challenge you sir.” 

“What?! No! This is getting ridiculous, stop-” You try to interject again. 

“Fine! Whenever you damn please Alien!” The fool retorts. 

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay, @obbicrystaleo, @germie2037 @davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @leo4242564

[hadesoftheladies]

FEMALE MOVIE/TV RECS (PART 9 / ADULT & FAMILY ANIMATION)

got inspired from a recommendation post so decided to make a list of movies and shows with female-centric stories/female protagonists. since i can't post all of the genres in one post, i'll split it into multiple posts and y'all can save or add to the list as you wish. (disclaimer: i have watched most of these, but i only know about the existence of others. not every movie/show on these lists will be my recommendation. my recommendations will be beneath the list with reasons. also some of these are way better than others in terms of storytelling/performance--which is why i'll list my faves separately):

Common Themes/Tropes:

-Woman/girl is OP and gets bullshit from other people for it

-Heroine tries desperately to fix the world

-Leaving home to go on adventures for the sake of a dream or doing the right thing

-Sisters are a lifeline

-Women/girls can literally do or be anything

-Violence is the only answer men will understand

-The world is so big, grand and beautiful and she wants to see more of it

-Girls being the conscience of an entire society

-Things going ham when she reaches Boss Level

-Magic (and violence) are good things, especially paired together

-A man (usually a father or guy friend) is the only conscience she has left

-F*ck marriage there's bigger problems TM

-I must save my father/sister

-Serious mommy issues

-Has an animal companion or IS the animal companion (robots also count as animal companions in terms of function imo)

-Making friends with the monster

OF WHICH ARE FOR ADULT AUDIENCES:

Pantheon

Scavenger's Reign

Blue Eye Samurai

Arcane: League of Legends

Trese

HAVEN'T WATCHED:

Pantheon

Lilo & Stitch

Fiona & Cake

Star Vs. The Forces of Evil

Trese

Princess Mononoke

Green Snake

The Breadwinner

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Violet Evergarden

Barbie in The Diamond Castle

Monsters Vs Aliens

Epic

Finding Dory

Encanto

The Incredibles II

Tinkerbell: Legend of The Neverbeast

Brave

WOULD HIGHLY RECOMMEND:

Blue Eye Samurai (10/10) (super gritty, but the perfect revenge story, puts John Wick to shame)

Scavenger's Reign (8/10) (split story, but two of the main characters are women, and one is a black lesbian! fantastic animation, though don't watch if you're intensely trypophobic, it can be sci-fi horror)

Mulan (9/10) (one of the most perfect animated Disney classics)

Turning Red (8/10) (this movie remembered the tween era)

Tinkerbell (if you crave matriarchy, sisterhood, magic and female centric society and story, then you need to watch the Tinkerbell movies)

Wolfwalkers (7.5/10) (an anti-colonial, anti patriarchal, pro-pagan fantasy movie with beautiful animation and a very touching, female-centric story)

Arcane: League of Legends (10/10) (gorgeous animation, amazing writing, incredible performances, and don't get me started on the sisters that take centre stage--also, lesbianism and gender nonconformity!)

The Legend of Korra (8/10) (good writing, a badass protagonist, a fantastic cast of characters, beautiful scoring, beautiful animation, amazing action sequences)

PERSONAL NOTES

The Mitchells Vs The Machines is basically a drama between a lesbian girl and her dad who have to figure their relationship out while they're running from robots. It was full of heart and fun and had some good jokes in there. I'd definitely recommend it.

Raya & The Last Dragon is the first Disney movie with a gender non-conforming princess! It also has some of the best action sequences in any Disney animated movie, however it doesn't hold a candle to The Incredibles II, which stars Helen Parr as the main character of the film. It's one of my favourite films of all time because of how they depict Helen and the main villain of the story (a badass genius of a woman). Really pro-female films, even for all their flaws.

Abominable has some of the most gorgeous visuals I've seen outside of a Disney animation. The texturing and coloring is so vivid it makes my mouth water. It's far better than Over The Moon, but both have their own charm. Abominable and Home have very similar plots. Also, the girl in Home is voiced by Rihanna while Beyonce voices the queen of the faeries in Epic.

One movie that shares a similar theme (kindness to animals even if we don't understand them or they scare us) with Abominable is The Sea Beast. The Sea Beast is one of the best animations with a black female girl as a lead I've ever seen. There's also a badass black woman pirate. There are some scenes that could have been written (or colored) better, but I loved it either way. I think it was the first animated film to depict shrinkage for black hair! And it didn't lighten the skin or whiten the features of the black characters!

Many people view Frozen II and Brave as "almost" masterpieces whose writers ultimately failed them, and I can say that I agree to some extent. There are many things technically wrong with the movies. Minor details that set the pacing off or take away from the immersion. However, I still love both of them. I really love daughter vs mother and sister vs sister stories (that includes Tinkerbell: The Secret of The Wings) because there's so much to explore in such relationships. They also both have some killer soundtracks, some amazing visuals and well-executed action sequences. I've truly seen way worse than these two films, and the characters are mostly loveable.

The Breadwinner is an animated film about a girl dressing up like a boy under the rule of the Taliban so she can earn some money to help feed her family. It's scored very high by critics.

I'd also recommend The Owl House (even though there's some appeal to genderism in later seasons). It's the first time I've seen a bisexual animated character and the enemies to lovers arc with Luz and Amity is unmatched in cannon magic school stories. I also really love the depiction of The Owl Lady who is treated like a male character in that she is allowed to be non-maternal, single and old (and wrinkled), arrogant and boastful, all without the show trying to punish her for it. The Boiling Isles are also fascinating as a setting.

If you like The Owl House, there's a chance you'll love She-Ra. There were many things I found annoying about She-Ra, but my experience was mostly positive. I'm not the biggest fan of Catradora, but I do appreciate the drama. I loved the world-building and magic system mainly, so the character quirks didn't get to me as much as they have others. Also, amazing antagonists in this series. It could have been more mature, but it's still entertaining.

I also definitely recommend Home on The Range. It's a whole movie with talking animals, but there's no tomboy like the main female protagonist in a Disney movie. She is one of the most tomboy characters Disney ever made. Also, I love 2D animation and this film reminds me why. Also, the idea of a feminine, micromanaging old heifer, a bull-headed, roughhouse new girl cow, and a young airhead cow that can't sing going on an adventure across the wild west to save their human's (a sweet old lady with some bark and bite) farm? And they have to compete with a hotshot, asshole male horse who is young and fast? It's like the perfect western comedy but with cows!

Anyways, if you can't tell, I love animated stuff and a lot of these are my comfort movies.

[thefirstknife]

The Observatory

I've been rotating a piece of the TFS CE lore in my brain so long I forgot to write about it. There's no transcript yet that I can find (I might do it myself tbh if nobody else does), but here's the scans with the whole text.

So, there's a lot going on in that CE, but the main gist of it is that the whole CE is written like a report from Eido. She investigated information about the Witness and the Collapse to try and help prepare us for our inevitable fight against it. Through her investigation, she found old Eliksni databanks that contain ancient records of past civilisations; main one being discussed is the civilisation that would eventually end up becoming the Witness.

There was a lot going on with them, shown to us through discussions between two specific individuals; they're only identified through code as HNW047622 and RS6243199. I'll call them HNW and RS. I've mentioned this before because we could see one of the pages in the preview of the Collector's Edition.

These individuals talked a lot and gave us insight into the Witness' civilisation. In short, they were super advanced and had something they described as the "Gardener's tools" which they apparently used to terraform other planets. They also talk about the concept of "the final shape" a lot and lead philosophical debates about its meaning and whether or not they have a responsibility to bring that concept to others in the universe. I'll probably go into their civilisation in-depth at some point, but for now I want to go off about something that appears to be a minor detail.

As part of their conversations, In the 5th image from the scans, they extensively talk about the final shape. The RS individual mentions something called "the Observatory." It is apparently some sort of a prediction machine. Full transcript of the relevant conversation and the rest of the post under:

[RS6243199]: I agree with you, in theory, but we do not exist purely in the theoretical. This suffering is already happening now, all the time, everywhere we look. Come see me, and I will show you the Observatory's readings. Such sights as we have seen, my friend, make me sick to my soul. [HNW047622]: I thought that the Observatory could only see possibilities. The future-branches of past visible-light readings. [RS6243199]: We have made improvements. The glass-minds*** trim the excess branches. What we see now are the strongest paths. And in the seeing, they become true. [HNW047622]: Then tell me what you have seen. I gain nothing from running from the truth, no matter how uncomfortable. [RS6243199]: Cities turning on themselves in a frenzy of self-destruction. Children offering up parents in superstitious sacrifice to bloodied gods. An entire people who would boil off their own atmosphere rather than let their neighbors enjoy fresh air! Great waves drowning worlds. Bodies which do not decompose, for everything, down to the very bacteria, has died as well. Machine-plagues carving their prediction-machines into moons. Your garden, destroyed. As the Observatory saw it, so it came to pass.

The footnote is a text from Eido:

*** From the context, some sort of computational assistant? There appears to be some etymological overlap with the names of Vex Minds. Something to investigate later, perhaps!

This made me instantly lose my mind when I was reading. Very early into Lightfall's release, I made a post about the Veil and the history of the universe. It's about some very peculiar similarities between a lot of prediction technology and caches of information that preserve ancient history and ancient civilisations and how they may connect to the Veil.

Mind you, this was before we knew a lot about the Veil; I wrote this pre-Veil logs and before it was confirmed that the Veil is linked directly to consciousness and memory. It was also before Season of the Deep which gave us Akashic Revelation: a lore tab in which a Guardian tries to go through the portal and experiences a vivid flashback of memory of his own pre-Guardian life. The name of the tab is important: akashic records is an esoteric concept for a supposed existence of a record of everything that has ever happened in the universe, past or present or future, human and non-human.

This is basically what I proposed in my post, before this lore tab, about the Veil; that the Veil or some source the Veil can tap into, is something similar to that. That all of the prediction machines are essentially pulling from this same source. In the post, I mentioned the OXA machine (the "black box for galactic civilisations" that allowed the Psions to see the future), Inspiral lore book (in which various civilisations and individuals left their records in the Darkness), the Device (the machine built on Vex technology by the Future War Cult in the Golden Age, led my Maya Sundaresh, used to displace consciousness and also see the future as used by Lakshmi-2), and even maybe the Sundial made by Osiris. I also mentioned how there's a possibility that even the whole scope of Vex prediction technology is somehow based on or tapping into this same source.

I am very amused at how I wrote: "It’s also interesting that Maya Sundaresh seems to be quite involved in pretty much every aspect of this." So true past me, that really is interesting! Her connection to the Veil and Lakshmi (and the importance of the Device and FWC) will later be revealed in Veil Logs. Almost like these connections were made deliberately, between all of these machines and the Veil.

With the benefit of new lore being released in the time since I made the original post, I am even more convinced that there's something going on here, and especially after TFS CE because the section I copied here mentions yet another incredibly similar machine: the Observatory of the Witness' species. It's not described in a lot of details, but from what we did get, it's quite unmistakeable that this is similar to things like the OXA and the Device.

The Observatory is clearly shown to be some sort of a machine that can see the future. Or, rather, as HNW says, it can see "possibilities." This matches what we've seen of the Device when Lakshmi-2 was using it; she was able to see different possible futures, futures that were getting increasingly narrow and biased to what she wanted to see. Identical formatting for using some sort of a machine to predict the future is shown as well with a Psion Ixel using... something (? maybe the OXA?) to do the same.

And again, the same formatting is used this season when a Psion Qorix uses her inate Psion abilities to project visions of the future into the minds of those present at Caiatl's War Council. It's worth noting that Psions have huge ties to Darkness abilities, as well as their entire species having been influenced by Nezarec to an unknown extent, but enough for them to share psionic/psychic abilities, an affinity to void, helmets that reflect his head shape and possibly more we don't know about. It's also worth noting that Nezarec was the one who was transporting the Veil on his Pyramid ship and lamented how Neomuni were not using it to its full potential. Nezarec may have used the Veil to influence the Psions.

This is important because these devices aren't exact, and the Observatory seems to share the same caveat. It shows possibilities, not certainties. Different users might see different things, painted by their own desires and experiences. However, there's something in all of these prediction machines that can lead to a real prediction of the future. The invididual RS mentions several visions, most of which are not specific enough to identify, but sound plausible given the sheer size of the universe; they must've happened somewhere at some point. There's one specific that we know: "great waves drowning worlds." And there's one mentioned by RS that also happened; the destruction of the "garden" made by HNW. This is mentioned in the beginning of the CE. HNW terraformed a planet, but that planet was later completely destroyed.

Even more interesting, the way the Witness' species used the Observatory seems to imply that they employed the Vex directly to help them manage this machine. RS explains that the "glass-minds" are capable of "trimming excess branches" and allowing only the "strongest paths" to be explored. Perhaps this was their way of not falling into the trap that the people using the OXA or the Device could fall into; by having the Vex monitor and manage this prediction machine, it stops the user from inserting too many personal variables. And yes, as Eido noted as well, "glass-minds" is a phrase that indeed shares similarity with the Vex and is almost certainly referring to the Vex.

This is incredibly interesting for a lot of reasons. First, as I've already mentioned, these sort of prediction machines are common throughout the universe and keep being mentioned. Different species at different times have been capable of creating similar machines for similar purposes. Inspiral also goes deeper into how species could use the Darkness to access memory and history through it; the Ecumene and the Qugu had these abilities and used them as part of their civilisation. Through Psions, we get a mix of these two things; the Psions have both tangled with prediction machines like the OXA, but they also posses seemingly inate Darkness abilities that function similarly. They can project futures and possibilities to others, they can merge their minds (and bodies!), and their old religion was based on ancestor worship. Emotions, memories, consciousness itself: these are part of Darkness and governed by the paracausal entity we know as the Veil. It seems like machines capable of giving insight into the past and future are connected to the consciousness of the universe.

Second, these things somehow always come back to the Vex. We don't know how the OXA was built, but the Vex could access it. The Device was build from Vex technology and so was the Sundial. The Observatory is very closely linked to the Vex as well; either built by them or simply being close enough to be accessible for the Vex to manage it. The Vex are more or less known for their manipulation of time, their ability to move through it and use it as a tool, as well as for their prediction and simulation machines and constructs.

And of course, this year revealed to us that the Vex, or at least a part of the Vex, have tried recreating the Veil in the form of Black Heart, but failed due to their inability to understand paracausality. However, it seems like the Vex are drawn to the Veil even outside of just the Sol Divisive, as can be seen from Neomuna. The Vex were a constant threat to Neomuna throughout its existence and the Vex have been trying to access the CloudArk, an alternate reality engine built on the energy of the Veil.

This season in particular has been fairly suspicious with the Vex as well, showing us a concerning evolution of the Sol Divisive and the Vex in general; their radiolaria emitting Darkness energy, Oracles appearing outside of the Vault of Glass and also resonating Darkness, their attempts to "merge with the Witness" and a strange message that seems to be implying they're still not done with reaching out to the Veil in the form of the Black Heart. I talked about this more here.

Are the Vex drawn to the Veil for a particular reason? Perhaps they unknowingly tap into something the Veil is responsible for, like prediction, through the simple fact that the Veil is the paracausal entity responsible for Darkness which is memory? For the Vex, memory could work outside of time; perhaps their prediction abilities are simply them being able to "remember" the future, because they can exist through and outside time.

There is also the even more mysterious possibility here that revolves around a few hints in regards to the Veil and the Traveler being a single entity at some point in time. If the Veil and the Traveler used to be one before becoming separated, this may be what Unveiling talked about through metaphor; the mythical Garden before the universe existed could've been this singularity that was just the Veil and the Traveler together as one. And as Unveiling also noted, in one of those parts of Unveiling that seem to be closer to the truth than others, the Vex already existed then. The reason they're so out of place in a universe of paracausality is because they appear to have come into existence before paracausality so it is foreign to them. They might remember the time when the two were one, therefore they still have an instinctual draw to the Veil; and honestly, to the Traveler too, given how close to it they've settled in our system. As the lore on Scatter Signal notes, someone told us that all Vex agree that "Sol is Salvation." It's where both the Veil and the Traveler are.

This is beyond speculative, but it's been on my mind since that first post well over a year ago because of how closely linked Darkness, the Vex and these peculiar prediction devices have been throughout the history of the universe; now added with one more, the Observatory, most likely the first one ever made (or found), by the species that would later become the Witness. I could be off on the exact nature of this connection, but I feel like there is some sort of a connection all the same. I also feel like they wouldn't have mentioned this in TFS CE for no reason, especially because we're clearly not going to deal with the Vex until after TFS.

Either way, the Observatory mention and description really got me spiralling into unhinged territory. It added such a specific little detail about something I've speculated about before and made it fit perfectly. I wonder if this will remain just like a little curiosity and background worldbuilding or if there's a more direct reason for including it; namely if this is more hints about post-TFS stuff regarding the Vex.

Until we know for sure, I will continue to believe that all prediction abilities and prediction machines are tapping into a single source; the consciousness/memory of the universe, produced by the Veil as a part of the inherent propery of Darkness. The Vex are key to this because they may be doing it in a very specific way given their relationship to time, the possibility that they existed in the universe before anyone else, and possibly because of their memory of a time when the Veil and the Traveler were one.

It could be also something simpler and not entirely interconnected. But I was very pleased to see yet another Vex-based prediction machine being introduced into the universe, adding to the existing ones that have been fairly relevant this year and mentioned several times like the OXA and the Device. Can't wait for TFS and post-TFS content to see if this is something we'll be exploring in more detail, especially as we start dealing with the Vex!

All this about a half of a single page of TFS CE. Girl help.

[thecynthh]

do you not find it a bit disrespectful to repost/rewrite other peoples fics? i understand that you’re doing it because people really liked them, or whatever, but i also feel like it’s kind of rude to do so.

personally, if i left this app or deleted my account and came back to find someone was posting my hard work, i would be genuinely upset.

if the og writer gave you permission then that’s a completely different story.

not at all hating, just wondering.

so lemme give u my perspective, i am just like everyone else a consumer, meaning i read and i comment and i like and twiddle my thumbs scroll on this app for at least 2 hours a day.

i have favourite accounts and stories with aspirations to write better and more overall and without the inspiration from the friends and writers that have deactivated i would’ve never began writing and posting my own shit

i was just as happy to find out that i could save old stories from deactivated accounts as much as people were happy to find out that i was reposting them. so coming from a writer and a consumer i don’t see that much of a problem considering my terms.

the way that i’ve made my links is if i wanted too, i could delete the whole thing unless that person tries to copy and paste it into something else entirely. so i have control and moderation about how much it can spread.

i have stated multiple times that if the author or someone close to them reaches out to me specifically asking or demanding for me to take it down i will happily comply. I have stated this MULTIPLE TIMES and in every single post that includes the actual link to any of the stories.

then again i’m not personally close with any of the writers but if they say the word it’ll all be gone in seconds. i would understand as a writer, the frustration and seeing it from an outside perspective that it is indeed disrespectful.

would i be butt hurt if someone did do that to me personally? no, because in the end yes it is someone’s personal work but it’s still just a fan fiction about a 21 year old man who will probably have moved on with their life in a couple of years.

mind you all of these fics still exist somewhere on tumblr, all of it is for the public to find. i have simply compiled it into a couple google docs while STILL CREDITING THEM.

what about u anon? are you using the links? do u enjoy the fics ive collected?

as a matter of fact who does use the links and think it’s morally wrong of me to be doing this. because in the end it’s majorities favour.

sorry for the rant/ if this came off bitchy/ i could’ve phrased this whole thing better but thank u if u even read a single paragraph.