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#i'm very dramatic about all this but it was a nightmare
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actually, medical gaslighting is when you’re stuck in the hospital and a nurse comes in and says “okay we’re just gonna run this one test and talk to the doctors and then we can probably discharge you in about ten minutes, okay?” and they do the test and they leave and then about FOUR HOURS LATER the nurse comes in and repeats the exact same pantomime and this goes on for about 3 days and every single day they tell you you’ll almost definitely be allowed to leave that night but you stay there anyway and never once does anyone tell you what was wrong with all the other damn tests they just ran and why those weren’t good enough to let you leave.
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wonder-worker · 5 months
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I've been thinking about the tragedy of Elizabeth Woodville living to see the end of her family name.
I don't mean her family with her husband, which lived on through her daughter and grandson. I mean her own.
Her sisters died, one by one, many of them after 1485. When Elizabeth died, only Katherine was left, and she would die before the turn of the century as well.
All her brothers died, too. Lewis died in childhood. John was executed. Anthony was murdered. Lionel died suddenly in the peak of Richard's reign, unable to see his niece become queen. Edward perished at war. Richard died in grieving peace. For all the violence and judgement the family endured, it was "an accident of biology" that ended their line: none of the brothers left heirs, and the Woodville name was extinguished. We know the family was aware of this. We know they mourned it, too:
“Buy a bell to be a tenor at Grafton to the bells now there, for a remembrance of the last of my blood.”
Elizabeth lived through the deposition and death of her young sons, and lived to see the end of her own family name. It must have been such a haunting loss, on both sides.
#(the quote is by Richard Woodville in his deathbed will; he was the last of the Woodville brothers to die)#elizabeth woodville#woodvilles#my post#to be clear I am not arguing that the death of an English gentry family name is some kind of giant tragedy (it absolutely the fuck is not)#I'm trying to put it into perspective with regards to what Elizabeth may have felt because we know her family DID feel this way#writing this kinda reminded me of how I am just not fond at all about the way Elizabeth's experiences in 1483-85 are written about#and the way lots so many of the unprecedentedly horrifying aspects are overlooked or treated so casually:#the seizure and murder of two MINOR sons and the illegal execution of another;#her sheer vulnerability in every way compared to all her queenly predecessors; how she was harassed by 'dire threats' for months;#how she had 5 very young daughters with her to look after at the time (Bridget and Katherine were literally 3 and 4 years old);#how unprecedented Richard's treatment of her was: EW was the first queen of england to be officially declared an adulteress;#and the first and ONLY queen to be officially accused of witchcraft#(Joan of Navarre was accused of her treason; she was never explicitly accused of witchcraft on an official level like EW was)#the first crowned queen of england to have her marriage annulled; and the first queen to have her children officially bastardized#what former queens endured through rumors* were turned into horrifying realities for her.#(I'm not trying to downplay the nightmare of that but this was fundamentally on a different level altogether)#nor did Elizabeth get a trial or appeal to the church. like I cannot emphasize this enough: this was not normal for queens#and not normal for depositions. ultimately what Richard did *was* unprecedented#and of course let's not forget that Elizabeth had literally just been unexpectedly widowed like 20 days before everything happened#I really don't feel like any of this is emphasized as much as it should be?#apart from the horrifying death of her sons - but most modern books never call it murder they just write that they 'disappeared'#and emphasize that ACTUALLY we don't know what happened to them (this includes Arlene Okerlund)#rather than allowing her to have that grief (at the very least)#more time is spent dealing with accusations that she was a heartless bitch or inconsistent intriguer for making a deal with Richard instead#it also feels like a waste because there's a lot that can be analyzed about queenship and R3's usurpation if this is ever explored properly#anyway - it's kinda sad that even after Henry won and her daughter became queen EW didn't really get a break#her family kept dying one by one and the Woodville name was extinguished. and she lived to see it#it's kinda heartbreaking - it was such a dramatic rise and such a slow haunting fall#makes for a great story tho
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cerastes · 8 months
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I saw there are a lot of forest fire in chile right now. are you gonna be okay?
Three days after the fact, yeah, I'll be fine, personally and physically, but it's dire, I'm not going to lie. I've never seen so much fire in my life. When you think about a big fire, your impression might be two or three buildings on fire with some firefighter trucks spraying water at it. This was kilometers upon kilometers of raging blazes. Kilometers. Heads up if you are sensitive to these kinds of posts, this isn't a happy one.
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Entire hills on fire. Lush green hills reduced to ash and smoke.
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Not to mention the urban parts that got hit badly
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The official death toll keeps increasing each passing hour as they clear up the rubble and ruins and find more corpses. People I know lost everything. Some people I know lost their loved ones. Dogs are eating corpses on the street because they haven't picked them up yet, so you have neighbors warding off said dogs. Bodies get picked up too badly burned, eaten, decomposed, or a mix thereof to be identified.
It's a tragedy. It all reeks of smoke, there's ash everywhere.
It was sudden, it was brutal. Seeing elderly survivors wondering "what's next for me? I don't have enough years left among the living to rebuild all I lost, all I worked for throughout my life, gone like that" breaks my heart. The government is offering all sorts of aid, but there's also people whose documents, like ID and other identifying documentation, was lost in the fire, so they have to get re-issued an ID before they can actually start filing for aid. The SML (Servicio Médico Legal) is oversaturated with all that's suddenly on their plate and can't return the bodies of people to their families yet, and these are all people that still need food, shelter, hygiene, and so on after the fact. Seeing the logistical nightmare that becomes life after you lose everything firsthand from other people is sobering and painful. Yeah, they survived, but what comes next? It's a sense of uncertainty that is smothering and asphyxiating, it's hopelessness.
I apologize if I come across as dramatic, especially so as someone who was luckily not affected, but it really, really has been heartbreaking to witness, especially from very up close, as I was there, and it's one thing to know of a tragedy that happened elsewhere, maybe even in your own country, but elsewhere, and it's a whole other beast to have seen it directly as it unfolded.
Keep Chile in your thoughts. If you are able to, please consider donating to Desafío Levantemos Chile, to my knowledge the only drive that accepts Paypal, thus, foreign donations, to help the various efforts to rebuild and aid those affected. Desafío Levantemos Chile dates back to 2010, when Chile got hit by a devastating earthquake, and is an NGO that bases its continued existence in being able to provide aid during catastrophes such as this one.
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yeeterthek33per · 4 months
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Meet you maybe never (Pernille Harder x Magdalena Eriksson x Reader)
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A/n Sort of requested. This one's been in the to be done pile for a while, and I wasn't entirely sure about it, but I knew I wanted to write it. Hardersson need more love, and I will go to the grave saying this.
Content/Warning(s): Fluff, mild angst (really have to squint bc honestly), Artist R.
Part one in a new series of mine. Let me know how I went, guys.
Pernille's sigh of exhaustion holds a familiar weight in Magdalena's mind.
One that she shares greatly, considering she also shares the exact reason for it.
Moving is a pain in the ass.
However many boxes they'd carried up the stairs to their new shared Munich apartment remains to be seen, given that she didn't remember packing this many boxes.
The place has certainly been well maintained, and everything feels brand new too, so they were both very happy with the turnout.
In saying that, unpacking is going to be a nightmare.
Sure, it was a spacious place, and they have several other rooms to work with, but now with boxes in place, their concerns lie with furniture, only being left with a bare mattress and two camp chairs until they could get around to going furniture shopping.
Looking over from her position leant back against the wall, having set down the final box in the living room, she spots her girlfriend lying flat on her back on the cool floorboards, arm draped over her face dramatically.
An amused smile crosses her lips, and she chuckles, moving to sit cross-legged next to the blonde on the floor, hand patting her stomach.
"All good, Love?"
Pernille hums softly, although given the grimace on her face, it's more like a groan than anything.
"Perfect. Just perfect."
Magda holds back a laugh, letting her hand fall to rest on her girlfriend's arm, caressing the skin above where it had fallen to rest over her eyes.
"We'll get there, Love. It's not like you haven't done it before."
"And every single time, I'm reminded how painfully exhausting it is."
The defender simply chuckles, nodding her head as her hand migrates to the woman's hair, gently carding her fingers through the light blonde tresses.
Humming softly, she shifts to lay her head in the younger woman's lap, looking up at her with a small affectionate smile that's returned with a loving look in the swede's eyes.
"Hi."
She playfully taps the defender on the nose.
"Hi."
There's a soft giggle from the light blonde.
"Love you."
Magda's small smile turns into a bigger one as she moves her hand to cradle her face.
"Love you, too."
Maybe moving to Munich isn't all that bad.
--------------------------
"Magda, come look at this."
"One second love, this dining set would go pretty well with-"
She looks around her when she notices isn't beside her.
"Babe?"
She calls out.
"Come look."
She wanders over to where Pernille is pointing, a wall across the street visible through the furniture store's windows.
It's painted in varying stages of forest greens, baby blues, and over the top is a beautiful landscape of what they assume to be the German countryside.
A little cottage on a hill, in front of a rising morning sun, brilliant oranges, and reds contrasting the background greens and blues.
"That's gorgeous, we should go have a look later."
"Let's go look now."
"But we have to-"
Pernille's already out the door before Magda can stop her, leaving the swede to sigh softly and walk back out the door after her excited girlfriend.
The painting up close is intricate with little design details that you wouldn't find unless you looked up super close.
Little details, like the bricks on the little cottage, aren't actually solid bricks but aligned words like quiet, peace and home.
The sun is made up of faintly written words of bright, future, and Pernille tells Magda, the German word for Happiness.
It's feels so planned out and thought out, they spend a long time looking over each detail, feeling every line and ridge of paint on the wall.
A local actually stops to tell them about it when they ask.
It'd been there for a couple years, having no idea who'd painted it. It just appeared one day.
They decide they love the piece, snapping a photo of it to show to family and friends for later.
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"Shit."
You barely feel the wall against your back in the cold.
Winter in Germany is not a fun time to be outside, and yet your stupid bored brain decided it needed to scratch an itch right now.
Waiting to be pick the perfect blank canvas, you had to duck behind a bricked off area while wearing your mask.
It covers most of your face bar a small gap for your eyes.
You hadn't exactly been subtle before and you'd already been photographed wearing it.
The last thing you needed right now was the press up your ass, or worse, the police.
Unfortunately, no matter where you are in the world, paparazzi are terrifyingly aggressive.
Quickly slipping away over another wall, you hop over a bin and find a blank, almost white wall, perfect height and size.
Assessing it for a second and checking for anu nearby vantage points that people could see you in and finding none in the low rise area.
You quickly drop your backpack, rifling through the old thing for your spray caps, and move to get to work.
It had come to you earlier and had been what had initially started the itch, said itch having been in the middle of a work meeting that you could not wait to get out of.
There would always be satisfaction in the way the lines matched up and swirled around others.
This time, though, it wasn't just a colourful background to look at.
You wanted to leave something on top of it, and you knew this one would take time.
Thankfully, you knew this area of buildings was mostly abandoned due to high levels of restructuring, so getting caught by locals wasn't an issue.
It was the occasional roaming tourist that gave you worry.
Pulling out a piece of charcoal, you use it to sketch out the baselines, not wanting to get ahead of yourself again, like you had last time when you spent far too long changing little mistakes made by using black paint first, leading to your biggest issue in the first place.
A public image to the mysterious artist of Munich.
Not something you need right now.
Sighing, you roll your head side to side, eyeing up the now line drawing in front of you
It looks pretty good.
It seems frustration helps you work better.
Unlike quite a few of the lackeys you know at work.
You roll your eyes at that.
Popping your achingly cold knuckles, you admire the lines for a moment longer.
This is one you want people to see, like many of your others, only more important.
It was a big thing for you, and you knew it would finally do something for the right people.
Now, just to fill it in and get the hell out of there.
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Magdalena and Pernille get a welcoming party with the team.
The captain, Glódís, introduces herself to the pair.
They immediately find the woman incredibly welcoming from the get-go, a warm smile to pair with the kind words and introductions to the staff at the party.
"And finally, you've met him already, but, our beloved man in charge, Alex Straus."
Alex shakes both of their hands.
"Lovely seeing you ladies again, even if it's only been a couple of hours."
He pauses to chuckle softly and then gestures around him.
"I can only hope you're settling in well. The girls are eager to get started on the season with you both."
The nod from the Icelander confirms that with a small chuckle, herself, the lot of them pestering her about the team's newest signings, having to remain tight-lipped until they could meet them in person tonight.
She gestures over to the not-so-subtly excitedly waiting group of women in the room.
"Better go introduce yourselves. Otherwise, I fear they might have my head for hogging you both."
The couple giggle softly at that.
Pernille's the first to settle with the girls.
Having spent four years with Wolfsburg made it so she had to learn German if she wanted to keep up with the banter, so she's into the mix of things quite quickly.
Particularly with the international players who all find immediate common ground with someone who they've played against many times over the years, especially after the most recent World Cup.
Georgia tucks the Dane under her arm, officially claiming her already, and latches onto Magda not soon after, both of them attaching to the Englishwoman right away.
"Finally, after who knows how long of losing to these two at City, I get my transfer here and the find the next season, the ol' captain and striker who gave me so much strife playing against Chelsea, followed me here."
There's so good-natured ribbing, and Georgia pokes Magda in the ribs in particular.
"What, can't take a little Chelsea blue, Gee?"
Magda pushes back of course, competitive as she is.
"Pft, you and I both know Manchester Blue is the best blue."
The swede scoffs.
"You wish, Stanway."
"Nah, it's just facts, Eriksson."
The rest of the group giggles, knowing this fast friendship was going to be an entertaining one.
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It seems it doesn't take long.
News of the artwork in Munich spreads like wildfire, catching the attention of your bosses almost immediately.
There was no way they would allow the media team to share this, considering the illegal nature of the piece, but they weren't displeased with it's sudden appearance, nor the traction it's gaining either.
It's a big thing for them.
It means more attention on the club, and it means more support from people because of how much they love the artwork.
That was an ego boost and a half.
Now, as you stare at the image on the projector board, you start doing what you always do and pick apart the piece.
Somethings not quite right with it, you think.
"Ms L/n, what do you think of this new development?"
Trying to appear as though you were paying attention, you look around at the other board members around you.
"I think it's the perfect opportunity for our latest news to gain attention. It certainly won't hurt that those players will gain attention, too."
Pausing to think for a moment before adding.
"Of course, there is always the risk of bad attention, especially from the press, but we can deal with that like we always do."
Another pause for a moment.
You glance over to the projector with the photo of the mural, rubbing your jawline softly, noting that something just felt off about the piece all of a sudden.
The eyes aren't right, there's not enough curve to the jaw.
You can't figure it out yet.
The itch returns for a moment before you continue, avoiding starting up too much on the itch.
"And with the good press, the club will gain more support from fans who will follow the players here, too. We should try and boost the promotion while we're at it. I'm aware the media team is doing the usual, but let's get in on the waves these two seem to be making while we're at it. Does anyone have any ideas?"
A woman further down the table pipes up.
"We can set up for some get to the know the players videos, have some meet and greets, send some of the veteran players with them over to a couple different plazas?"
A soft nod from you in agreement.
"Sounds good. We can let the media team handle the rest. Please. Stephen. Continue."
He nods before flipping to the next item on the agenda.
"Thank you, Director."
Nodding at the man, you turn back to your papers, scribbling small notations every so often, once again.
It seems the board aren't against it.
Good.
For now, you'd just have to encourage the publicity of the piece.
Not yourself.
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With training beginning within a couple of days of moving to Germany, it doesn't take long for whispers of the piece to make it to the gossip in the changing room.
Magda and Pernille don't realise what it's about until they ask what all the fuss is.
Some of the younger girls had been fawning over a photo taken from a distance, the piece lit up perfectly under the early setting winter sun.
Catching the sight of it over the shoulder of one of them, they ask about the name attached to it.
Scrawled in the caption, something catches Pernille's eye, having some knowledge of written German.
'Straßengänger'
Streetwalker.
"Who's that?"
She directs the question towards the younger Dutch girl on the team, Jill Baijings.
"Eh, a popular street artist, though they aren't really known aside from the name. Their stuff is really good, though."
She holds the phone closer to the women.
"Have you seen this yet?"
Pernille looks closer at the image, brows raising in surprise, with a soft muttered 'oh'.
The red, blue and baby blue, apparently FC Bayern themed background, made the highly realistic greyscale portraits pop nicely.
It was a promotional image for them.
As in Magdalena and Pernille.
Words scribbled under the image read,
"Welcome to Munich, Magda and Pernille!"
The image itself is beautiful.
It's an image of their faces in what is most likely both stages of goal celebration, screaming with victory, eyes crinkled and wide smiles, paired together over the gorgeous pattern, highlighting it perfectly.
It almost doesn't look real in the photo. But it's still very awe-inspiring to see.
Fans always have the most talent when it came to art like that, and it never ceases to amaze them.
Magda peers over her shoulder beside her, letting her appreciation for the art be known with a low whistle.
"Honestly, you guys will have to see it in person, though. it's so much better when you can get up close to it. All of their artworks always are."
"What did you say the name was, again?"
"Straßengänger."
"What does that mean?"
It comes from Magda.
"Streetwalker. We don't actually know where the name came from, whether it was the artist themself or the locals but either way."
They both nod, humming thoughtfully.
Maybe they would have to check it out.
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You know coming back is a bad idea, but you love the piece too much to not come back to it, knowing it would irk you to not get a better stance on anything that might need fixing, despite your best efforts to ignore the itch.
Of course, this time, without the mask on because that be even stupider.
Going back to the scene of the crime wearing exactly the attire that would incriminate you.
Standing back from a distance, you snap a photo under the settling sun in the cooling weather.
Something catches your attention off to the left, a pair walking down the sidewalk, well, more strolling slowly then anything.
Linked arm in arm and bundled far less than a lot of people would be for winter weather, they're wearing coats but braving the cold with thin material pants and shoes.
It's not that that catches your attention, though.
It's more your unabashedly gay side that notices them.
It seems you've caught the attention of your art's subjects.
Because here they are, noticing it finally, standing back admiring your work of them.
You quietly step away, but still close enough to hear the soft murmuring of them, being the only people on the street at this dying hour, you can hear them amongst the small breeze passing over the road.
They're definitely speaking Swedish because you can't make out what they're saying, only understanding the familiar lilt and tone of surprise in their words.
"Det är vackert."
"Varför oss?"
"Jag vet inte men det är fantastiskt."
You're about to walk away when Pernille walks closer to it, running her hand over the dried paint, her eyes moving over the piece slowly.
You notice she's tracing the underlying wording, realising she must have seen your art before to notice it that quickly.
As you keep a subtle eye on her, she's standing in the fading rays of sunlight, giving her a soft golden glow.
Her girlfriend moves to wrap her arms around her and it's then you see both of them a little differently to before you'd seen them in person.
They're absolutely beautiful, together and individually, and you realise you haven't captured that properly with your latest work.
It gives you another itch.
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"You know, we have to meet this person."
Magdalena hums softly in agreement, hands running over Pernille's shoulders, staring up at the wall, eyes tracing the lines, the shading and the shape work, particular over the little footballs making up the swirls on the O in Welcome.
Her hand moves to her pupils in the portrait, paying attention to the way they're made up of shining stars.
The same with Magda's portrait.
There's a soft shuffle from behind them, and Magda's head swivels to look up at the source for a moment.
You're standing there, looking down at your phone, a soft smile on your face as you tap away at it.
She'd seen you standing there earlier already, taking photos, so she doesn't pay you much mind in the end, and you turn and walk away, putting the phone to your ear.
Although, there is mild niggle of curiosity, she brushes it off.
You're probably just another tourist looking at the piece.
"Come on, we have to head back soon or we'll start freezing out here."
"Few more minutes, Magda... Where's all those Swedish genes gone huh?"
Pernille teases the taller woman, poking her in the cheek.
Magda rolls her eyes good-naturedly.
"Yeah, yeah, real funny, babe."
Pernille chuckles, leaning back into the Swede.
She was right, though.
She had to find whoever did this.
The curiosity was getting to Magda, too.
Why them?
Of any of the influential people in Munich.
Or just any of the women's players.
Why them?
She has so many questions.
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"And last but certainly not least, welcome to our newest signings, Magdalena and Pernille. Thank you for joining us and we hope you enjoy your stay here at FC Bayern."
The FC Bayern committee room erupts with a small applause from the players and board members before them who were all called in for a club wide meeting, even receiving a small whoop from Georgia in the back that makes the players around her either chuckle or roll their eyes at her.
"Now, handing off to our creative director."
"Danke, Herbert."
Stepping up onto the podium, the person immediately catches Magda's attention.
It's you.
The woman from the other day in town, at the wall.
There you are, climbing the steps up to the podium, black blazer jacket and blue jeans, half tucked with a white button up and a FC Bayern logo embroidered on the jacket pocket.
Pernille notices it, too.
"Now, I know this probably going to be the boring part but I'll try and keep it simple and just go over what our plan is for the next few months."
Looking out over the group, you keep your best public smile on.
"Don't worry, you don't have to remember any of this, as you'll be reminded as each one comes up so we don't miss anybody."
As you start to list off each of the latest marketing events and programs, your eyes shift over the players in their seats, despite the usually tired response at your while lilted, droning about the business side of things, you make eye contact with a very vigilant looking certain pair.
Your eyes crinkle mildly as you fight off too much of wide smile.
"There's a few meet and greets we want to go ahead with before the start of the season, including our newest signings, men and women, we'll send the details to those involved later."
You pause for a moment, eyeing up the latest of the new men and women in the crowd, placing back on the Scandi couple for a second before drifting and continuing.
"And, finally, we have an unfortunately mandatory promotional event on the third of October. It is also a black-tie event, so even me, who as many of you know already, shows up to everything wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, will have to dress up, please do the same. Thank you for listening everyone."
"Thank you, Director."
Taking a seat back with the crowd, it's almost like you can feel a pair of eyes on the back of your head.
You don't turn to face them, though, already knowing exactly who it is.
After the meeting is adjourned, you stand and ready to leave back to your office when a body stands in front of you.
A familiar tall Swede.
"Hey, I don't believe we've met properly."
"I'm Y/n L/n, creative director here at FC Bayern München."
"Magdalena Eriksson, although you already know that, it seems."
You smile, nodding and extending a hand out to her.
She shakes with a warm but firm grip, leaving the skin tingling a little.
She really is much more beautiful in person.
"It's lovely meeting you, Magdalena-"
"Call me Magda, feels a bit much for a full name, now."
"Lovely meeting you, Magda."
Letting go of her hand, you bid her as polite a goodbye as you can give, knowing any longer and you'd gay panic yourself into a problem, you make your way towards the door.
As you shift through the small crowd of players, nodding and smiling in acknowledgement to those who do know you or have met you, you exit the room swiftly, heart mildly racing.
You'd seen the look of recognition in her eyes, not from knowing who you are at Bayern, but perhaps somewhere else.
You aren't risking it.
--------------------------
First and second training with the team went as smoothly as it could for any new team members.
However, their third is a little less cathartic.
Having to do extra medical assessments and fitness testing before being able to join the team, everything had been hurting that day.
They arrive home to their shared apartment almost completely worn down from the session.
At home, in their new apartment, finally furnished, for the most part, they both agree to get an early night's rest.
Annoyingly though, they can't seem to find it in them to sit still and toss and turn for the next hour or so, both of them in agreement they weren't sleeping right now.
They head out for another stroll through the quieter parts of the city, instead, taking a bus out there for the first ten minutes or so.
Hand in hand, they stroll down the quiet village-esque side of Munich, just breathing in the cool air, occasionally stopping to admire the rustic, olden style.
It's in the really silent part of town that they notice something.
The distinct sound of... a rattling can?
A spray can to be exact.
Pernille nods in the direction of a small alley, Magda initially shaking her head no, not sure if they should really confront someone who could be possibly dangerous or someone associated with the law.
Of course, the Dane sneaks over anyway to peek into the alley.
There, a figure stands with their back to them, hand wrapped around a baby blue can of spray paint.
The painting looks halfway done.
It's a portrait.
Of Pernille.
The woman's eyebrows just about fall off her face at the surprise and she turns back to her girlfriend who's waiting anxiously, looking about three seconds from dragging Pernille to the next taxi back to their apartment.
She gestures quietly to whisper to her over the cold wind howling through the gaps in the buildings.
"It's that artist."
"I figured, but we really shouldn't be associating with them. C'mon, we have to leave."
"Magda, c'mon, this is our chance to meet the person behind that mural."
A bit of back and forth before Pernille peeks her head around the corner to look, again.
This time, though, the person is bent down, rifling through their backpack, and a spray cap.
When Pernille turns back to a now very concerned Magda, she whispers in her ear.
"Just another minute. Just have a look at least."
The Swede very reluctantly agrees, looking for herself.
Concern is the first thing to pop into her mind.
This one is just of Pernille, accentuating the woman's eye colour and bright smile.
Is the artist, infatuated?
A million thoughts an hour as she watches the smooth, almost mesmerising way their hands trace lines and fill gaps.
When you pull out a paint marker to start with smaller details, she turns back to her girlfriend.
"Are they obsessed with us or something? This feels a little weird at this point."
Pernille frowns, almost shaking her head to disagree.
As the woman's about to answer, there's suddenly some shuffling, almost unnoticeable jingling of zippers and a body sat up on a short wall on the other side of the walkway, bag back on their shoulders once more.
"Actually, I'd say it's more an appreciation for a pair of legends in Munich."
They both startle heavily, Magda going into protective mode, arm around Pernille, pulling herself in front of the woman fully.
--------------------------
The pair of them peeking on you were about as subtle as a whistle among bells.
Figuring you'd have to finish it later, you pack up swiftly, ensuring your mask sits on your face correctly before sneaking out of the alleyway to sit up on a wall above them.
After a not-so-much needed scare, you raise your hands in a surrender gesture.
"I won't hurt you. I just figured I should say hello personally since you're both here and all."
Magda looks nervous, and you can see the curiosity in Pernille's eyes from where you're casually seated.
"Although, I do suggest not sticking around. It's going to be a PR nightmare for the three of us if you're seen with the Straßengänger."
You punctuate the nickname with air quotes.
As you're about to jump up to climb onto the rook and make a swift disappearance of yourself, you hear one of them yell out to you.
Hesitating, you turn back to the pair.
"Why us?"
Pernille's brilliant grey-blue eyes look up at you, a radiance of dying curiosity in them as she holds her girlfriend's hand to calm the woman.
You stop for a moment before shrugging.
"A pair of beautiful women in the biggest sport and uprising for women. Why not you?"
It's there Magda gets a unrecognisable look on her face and you decide to leave it there.
With that, you scramble up onto the building, annoyed with yourself for having dragged ALL of your gear with you and also for leaving a half finished work behind.
A day or so later.
Luckily for you, no one else seems to stumble upon your work just yet, and with much scouting and caution, you find yourself back in that alley finishing what you started.
Making sure to adjust the shine in the subject's eyes to fit exactly how they shone up at you the day previously.
This time, the representation of the Danish captain seemed far closer to the spectacle she is in real life.
You're pleased with yourself for this one.
And it's scratched half the itch you'd had days prior.
Now for the other half.
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After their sudden meeting with the Straßengänger, Magda and Pernille are left with more questions than answers.
They both agree to just return home for the night, knowing it's a question for another day when they aren't in the middle of an already chaotic media storm.
After that, they get swept up in everything Bayern and put everything about the artist to the back of their minds.
Their first match is approaching fast and Alex already has Pernille in the starting lineup, so she gets distracted in preparation for that, finding herself busy studying the formation and technique of an entirely new team.
So much so, that she almost... almost forgets about the mural maker.
Although...
There's just one question that bugs Pernille constantly, despite her best efforts to focus fully on their new path in Germany.
Magdalena feels much the same.
"Who are you, really, Straßengänger?"
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apt502-if · 11 days
Note
I think I have the ultimate™️ angst ask for the ros minus rainn (also kinda of nsfw warning, ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable pls!!)
If mc and ro were being intimate, how would the ros react if MC said rainn's name in that moment?
OUCH YIKES OOF D: D: D:
A: This would be their worst nightmare. This is their worst nightmare. A would immediately stop and probably leave the room. I think the relationship would be over after that tbqh It would ruin them! After their past and then that they'd most likely give up romance and relationships for good. They would leave the room and cry in the bathroom for an hour before distancing themself and rebuilding all of the walls MC managed to break down :<
L: L would make a joke at first out of reflex ("Usually people are mistakenly saying my name not the other way around lol") and then stop. If it's just FWB then they wouldn't care that much. They would, as a friend, delicately tell MC to handle their issues though. In a relationship, they'd insist on having a conversation. L is a lot more understanding when it comes to relationships and messy feelings and moments like that because they've dealt with a lot of people in their days of hooking up. They'd tell MC that they should take a break and give MC time to figure out how they truly feel about their ex before getting back together. Just very understanding! Much more than most :P In a deeper relationship, L will say that but internalize it as "I'm not enough for them I knew I should've never gotten into a relationship this is why."
Cal: Cal would try to ignore it for MC's sake. They'd make an excuse as to why they have to stop and probably run out of the room. Cal's gut reaction would be to push it down and pretend it doesn't bother them because they don't want a confrontation or to embarrass MC. People pleaser ways :P Eventually Cal would give in and have a sit down with them. It would really hurt them though. And would take a long time to get over it.
M: Get mad. :P M would definitely ask MC if they're just a distraction from Rainn. They'd be insecure and question themself. M would go home and need a day or two to process what just happened. Then they'd outright ask, "Do you want to breakup with me?" and MC is like wow don't be dramatic LOL but all of the characters are dramatic so. M would give MC time to figure it out but I think the relationship would be over for a while. Not forever but for a while.
G: Find out who Rainn is to decide whether Rainn is better than them. If they are, G would make it their mission to be better and to make sure MC realizes that Rainn is the downgrade, not them. G is competitive.
Andi: Suppperrr awkward and super hurt. Wouldn't be able to look MC in the eye for a while. Like A, I think the relationship would be permanently done. If it was someone else they'd prob be able to move on from it but it's Rainn. Just bad all around. Andi would also be in too deep to be able to breakup and be just friends with MC. It would probably be bye bye Andi in general for MC for good.
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reiluvr · 7 months
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Suguru's Morning Routine
hello! this is a new account, just cause i wanted to start somewhere new! requests are open and im still working on everything so...
i'll eventually make a masterlist, once i've posted at least 5 works or so.
this is pretty much 100% fluff even though i'm a hardcore angst girl. just starting off easy. uhhh there's suggestive words but no smut.
just suguru being head over heels for you and toru <3
It's the way Suguru has his alarms set for at least half an hour before the other two ring. He's so used to this routine that he doesn't even really need the alarm, his eyes already open and hands reaching for his phone to turn the alarm off in case it wakes you two up. He turns his body, a smile subconsciously falling onto his face as he observes the mess of your hair. He gently brushes a few strands away from your mouth, fingers tracing your features as he grins.
Once his ten minutes of admiring you are up, his body shifts, neck craning to admire Satoru on your other end. His heart flutters as he watches the constant rise and fall of Satoru's chest, finding solace in watching the "honored one" look so mundane. His smile only widens further as his eyes trail down to observe how your legs entangle with Satoru's, Suguru being the only somewhat normal sleeper. In the quiet of the room, a small giggle escapes him as he thinks back to the beginning of the relationship, how hard it had been to get a good amount of sleep between Satoru's limbs stretching across the entire bed and you're constant mumbling. Now it's only one of his countless favorite things about his two partners.
He alternates between both of you, waiting until the sun has fully risen to quietly get out of bed, humming a soft tune as he turns on the coffee maker, already pulling out countless items from the refrigerator. It was honestly a blessing that Satoru was loaded, because not only did he eat for a family of ten, all three people in the house had very different tastes, leading to grocery weekends being quite hectic. He places three cups on the counter, practically adding only a few drops off coffee to the first one as he drowns it in creamer and sugar cubes. He moves to the second, not even trying to fight the smile as he notices the small paw prints on the side of the mug. He had gotten accustomed to finding cat themed items all around the house once you had moved in. It had been a nightmare listening to Satoru whine constantly about how "those stupid cats mean more than we do, right?" He adds two sugar cubes to the cat themed cup, pouring the coffee and topping it off with whatever nut based milk they had bought that week. By the time he turns to the last cup, Satoru's poptarts have popped out the toaster, so he quickly places them on a plate while he heats up a pan to prepare his own eggs. He quickly pours coffee in his own cup, not bothering with sugar or cream as he takes a few sips, mixing granola into some strawberry yogurt. By the time breakfast is ready, he can already hear Satoru's soft whines from the bedroom, the man already having found something to complain about. He places the poptarts on one end of the desk, placing the granola in the middle, and the eggs on the other end. No one spoke about it, but everyone knew they had an assigned seat.
He takes his coffee with him, leaning against the door frame of their bedroom as he watches. Satoru seems to be clawing at the bedsheets, one hand digging into the bed as the other is wrapped tightly around the bedframe. You stand there, hair a mess and clothes all ruffled, clearly just having gotten up, with one of Satoru's ankle in you hands, desperately trying to pull him out of bed. Suguru rolls his eyes, you'd think after years of living together, they'd be over this dramatic scene every morning. He sighs, placing his cup on the dresser as he shuffles behind you, hands wrapping around your waist as you drop Satoru's leg in surprise.
"For once, could you two just wake up normally?"
He has to suppress his smile as he hears your own frustrated complaints, already talking his ear off first thing in the morning.
"I woke up and he was literally laying on me! So I push him off and he start whining and crying, you know how he is, he's all like "you don't love me" and "I'll just go die, I guess". And then! Suguru, you're not gonna believe this, actually, you will, cause Satoru still acts like he's 16. He pulls me back with him as he's like, "Hey ma". MA? WHY IS HE TRYING TO HAVE SEX FIRST THING IN THE MORNING??-"
Suguru does the only thing that he knows will shut you up, pressing his lips against your own as he silences you, Satoru cackling in the back as you push Suguru away, already on another rant about how you're living with two men who are horny 24/7. Of course, you're just kidding, already back in Suguru's hold a few minutes later, both of you just swaying in place while waiting for Satoru to finish washing his face. (He has a 24 step skin care routine.)
The three of you finally settle into your places, both you and Satoru digging into the prepared breakfast in front of you. Suguru sighs happily, watching as a bit of yogurt sticks to your nose, Satoru pointing it out. He watches as Satoru throws his head back in laughter as you try to wipe it off, only smudging it more. He holds back to urge to tell Satoru not to speak with his mouth full. He watches as you rub your nose red, somehow still missing the smudge. He watches as Satoru finally reaches over, using the edge of his sweater's sleeve, it's Suguru's sweater but he's already accepted he's never getting it back, to gently rub your face, getting rid of the mark. By the time he takes a bite of his own eggs, they're cold. He just smiles and continues eating, a cold breakfast being a small price to pay for enjoying his morning with his favorite people.
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creativewritersposts · 3 months
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concert ticket - Lando Norris
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summary; Lando Norris x reader
You're hyped to get concert tickets for Taylor Swift - the Eras tour until everything is sold out and you're very upset about it. Lando gets very creative to cheer you up!
warning(s); none, little bit angst, fluff, maybe grammar errors
author's note; hi ✨ hope you enjoy this one!
Quickly reminder my request box is always open 💞
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"hey babe, Taylor Swift is going on tour!", a squeak escapes your mouth, too excited since you heard the news. Lando huffs, rolling his eyes, "I'll not go with you!". It's not like he hates the singer, he likes her songs but for two or three hours nonstop?
You blink twice, "why not?". You put on your begging face which lando never could resist. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, "I'm not a fan of songs like "Stopp you're losing meee", he imitates the lyrics with dramatic body gestures. "You cry over her songs like you're lovesick and you're in a happy relationship with me!", he argues.
You can feel how your mouth changes into a small, thin line. "don't you dare to talk about this masterpiece like that, Lando Norris!". When it comes to Taylor, you're ready to fight. He bites on his nails, if it makes you happy, he would go with you.
"One deal, you have to organize these tickets and I'll go with you", he smiles apologizing. Here you are, one month later in front of your laptop since thee hours.
It's frustrating. You're not the only one with the plan to buy tickets and you need to wait. "argh!", you smash your hand on the keyboard, it could be such a happy day.
When you click to the main page, the worst nightmare came true; no tickets available. Sold out.
Of course you didn't call Lando - he would throw a party just not going to this. But for you it meant the world.
After three days Lando is worried, he was away for promotion and you were awkwardly quiet. Too quiet.
He knows the ticket sale started, you talked nonstop about it for one month straight. He's sure you got tickets, that's why he didn't bought any.
He was sure you'll get some.
Unlocking the door he steps in, ready to say hello to you with a big hug, kisses and good food.
"Hey darling", Lando steps in the kitchen and kisses your neck from behind, because you're cooking. "Hm", you mumble under anger about the world.
"Someone is in a bad mood, huh?", jokes Lando in love. You look so cute when you're grumpy.
"Shut up", you hiss in his direction under tears, bad mood is no explanation for your feelings. All hopes are gone.
"What happened?!", Lando got big eyes, shocked about your reaction. It's atypical for you. "We're not going to the Eras tour", you sob whilst holding the pan. Cooking his favorite meal. With his favorite tv show. And you're not even allowed to see your favorite artist, your biggest idol.
"I'm so sorry ", Lando steps closer and hugs you tight, "you're not!", you sob even more in his chest.
"I am", he lays his chin on your head, thinking about what he can do. He can't help with concert tickets but he can help you.
He kisses your hair, asking you randomly, "you're free thursday night?", you just nod. After this you sit down and eat the dinner without more conversations about this. But he has ideas.
Four days to get the ideas to your best night ever. He goes to shops, asks his friend to help him and learns Taylor Swift song lyrics. He ordered fan merch. It's not hard to hide from you because you have a busy time schedule at work so you're not coming home until 8pm.
"Lan-oooh!", you see glitter on the floor inside his apartment. "Lando?", you look through the open door, where you can see ballons, more glitter, different colors, colored snacks and letters on the ceiling, 'eras tour' on it. "aww how cute!", you can't believe he did it for you. A Taylor Swift themed night.
"Change into your fanciest, most glamorous dress because we're having the best night ever with Taylor", he dances like a goofball in the living room. Before you walk into your wardrobe, you walk back to Lando and kiss his lips, "i love you", thankful to have this man in your life.
He wouldn't say it loud but maybe he got two tickets. But that's a surprise for later.
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heartsoji · 2 years
Text
haikyuu boys with an s/o who's really scared of horror movies
pairings: iwaizumi x reader, oikawa x reader, tsukishima x reader, bokuto x reader
a/n: lol this is me i actually cannot with horror like at all
warnings: post-timeskip in iwaizumi's
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iwaizumi hajime
iwaizumi's pretty good with horror movies
occasionally, he'll be a little caught off-guard with a sudden jumpscare, but he's pretty much fine otherwise
now YOU..
you are not ok.
you are screaming, hiding, and tearing up
he honestly doesn't really understand what's so scary about them
since i hc iwaizumi to be a realist, he'd be like
it's a movie. it was filmed. those are actors. it's so obvious none of that stuff could ever happen in real life
still, he understands that you're really scared and tries his best to comfort you
time to put those beefy athletic trainer arms to work
he lets you cling onto them for the whole movie and lets you use then as a stress ball
iwaizumi's a traditional, old school, cheesy hopeless romantic. convince me otherwise.
therefore, his method of comfort usually comes in the form of soothing words and back rubs in his arms
its actually quite nice. he lets you scream into his titties (HE HAS TITTIES AND THEYRE MORE ROCK SOLID THAN REGINA GEORGE'S MOM'S. CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.)
when you're truly scared scared (like heart pounding, sobs racking ur body, you're def gonna get rlly bad nightmares type of scared scared)
he will probs turn it off bc he thinks that no movie ending is worth this much terror
he cares about you a lot, after all. he thinks its slightly amusing when you're screaming your head off at the obviously fake blood, but he would never want you to be fearful for real
rubs your back and whispers soothing words into your ear
"its ok" "i'm right here" "don't worry, i'd protect you if they ever came" type of stuff
after you've calmed down a bit, he'll try to make you laugh
jokes, tickles, anything, really!
he hates seeing you scared. he just wants you to be happy
10/10. marry me sir.
oikawa tooru
lol
hate to break it to you but
tooru is equally as scared of horror movies
you guys have to cuddle up in blanket burritos together and scream at every jumpscare
honestly you both only make it through the movie through sheer willpower
if you're crying, he'll try to comfort you, but tbh he's pretty damn scared himself
however, once the movie is over, he's totally fine
movie forgotten. out of memories. what movie should you guys watch next?
but YOU
you're still crying
you're still really shaken up
you're def gonna have nightmares
he takes that opportunity to be the manly man he is and swoops you up bridal style
he's very charming. he looks at you in the most dazzling, heart-melting way
lol boy u were just crying too stfu
he cuddles you close, and just like iwa, whispers sweet words into your ear
however, unlike iwa, they're much more...childish? playful? how to describe them..
"it'll be ok. your big, strong, boyfriend will protect anything that tries to hurt his princess" "*dramatic gasp* YOU DON'T THINK I'M CAPABLE OF FIGHTING IT OFF BY MYSELF? HOW COULD YOU UNDERESTIMATE ME LIKE THIS? THIS.. THIS IS BETRAYAL" "they don't even look that strong. im sure i could hit a volleyball at one and it would rip into two!"
stuff like that
he would make sure to cuddle you extra close that night
overall, he's pretty fun and is good at making everything seem less serious. 8.5/10!
tsukishima kei
honestly, he's as affected by horror movies at the average guy
he doesn't find them as terrifying as oikawa, but he's definitely not as unaffected as iwaizumi
but you'd never know that
why?
he just hides his emotions really, really well
also he just sometimes focuses on the wall behind the tv and drowns out the voices
he just sits through them and bears them, basically
now, why? why in the world would he do this when he doesn't even enjoy it?
to make fun of you, duh. shouldn't that have been obvious?
when you leap 30ft out of your seat into the air, he laughs at you
he'll even add onto your fear by like grazing your opposite shoulder when you aren't looking and pretending he didn't do it
hes a brat
but honestly, he partially enjoys it when you spring onto him at the jump scares, no matter how much he denies it
as we all know, the boys a lil shy about asking for affection
with horror movies, he gets your affection without even asking for it! yay!
but once the movies over, if you're really shaken up, he'll use his giant beanpole arms and spoon you until you fall asleep
but then he'll be an ass about it the following week
pokes, grabs, jabs you and will say,
"huh? it wasn't me. maybe it was the (wtv villain or ghost or spirit or wtv from the movie)!"
2/10. makes fun of you and makes the movie even scarier tbh. the 2 points r only bc of the comfort he gives after its over.
bokuto koutaro
like most things in life, bokuto goes between two extremes, and never crosses into the middle
he's either having super insane cut shots that go BOOM
OR he's doing awful and is in his emo mode
same thing with this
he either isn't affected by it at all and just laughs
or he screams when the character breathes a lil too heavily
now, if he thinks the movie's not scary at all, he's pretty good to watch with if you're super scared
during the scary parts, he lets you cling onto his beefy arm while he just watches the movie in amusement
like there's a really scary scene where there's a huge jumpscare into the most climatic scene in the movie and you're burying your face into his arm but in the background you just hear:
"HAHAHAHAHA! Y/N Y/N! YOU GOTTA SEE THIS! HE'S...HE'S GETTING CHASED BY THIS GREY LITTLE CHILD! HAHAHAHA ITHIHIHIT'S EYES LOOK LIKE TAPIOCAAHAHAAHA"
"oh the grey little child is smiling! it's kinda cute! why is the main character guy sweating? he looks like me right after a long game"
"why'd the grey little child pull a purple thing out of his throat? what's that? i wonder what it tastes like though..i think it would be a thick gummy texture, but maybe a little gooey on the inside. definitely grape-flavored. the really sweet artificial good one. oh.. now i want a gummy!"
yeah
he definitely makes it less scary because he makes all the scary stuff seem really stupid
honestly pretty nice. you might not get as many nightmares because of him
now
when he's terrified, he's more terrified than you
*main character sneezes* "AHHHHHHH"
think oikawa x 800
mhm
honestly, you kind of have to take the comfort role even though you're deathly afraid of horror movies
"kou, he's just walking. its ok."
honestly he makes it seem less scary like this too because it forces you to see why the movie isn't actually that scary because you have to find out the reasons to comfort him
8.7/10. a sweetie
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catchingdaydreams · 3 months
Text
Dungeon Meshi spoiler
Theory time : Laios greatest desires
It's been bugging me about what Laios greatest desires are as there are different ways to portray it. So here's my interpretation.
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Firstly I want to acknowledge that Laios is still or some what is still the ultimate monster. Whatever he wrote down in his book describing the ultimate monster abilities (not physical appearances I'm focusing on) came true in one way, shape and form. Firstly, the ability to consume the lions desire in the first place. Secondly, in the side stories his poop actually creates a forest. Now the quote "can change shape" actually occurs twice throughout the series (so far).
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Firstly turning into the monster and secondary, turning back to a human. The second time was not an act of the Lion as said quote "no magic works on it", thus it is completely Laios doing to shape shift freely. It's also interesting to note that both times he sheds his skin when changing into a new form. Like why this specially? Funny enough we do see this other time, as he turns into a wolf in his dreams to save his friend from the nightmares.
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Furthermore, while turning back into a tall man, he isn't completely monster free. His aura remains that other monsters still recognize and therefore fear him.
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The idea that weaker monsters fear stronger monsters to the extent of avoiding them is mentioned many times throughout the series. For example Senshi talks about how delicate the food chain is and that a stronger monster (squid/ krachen one) caused an imbalance to the abundance of other species. Naturally dragons are known to be one of the strongest monsters in the dungeon, as Thistle set a variety of different species to kill his party. Yet a common thing arises, coexist is near non-existent as power overall dominates all (either by kicking others off their territory or eating the weaker one). This Laios presence being the ultimate monster is not only removing other strong-ish monsters but disrupting the overall food chain.
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Now that I establish what I think Laios is I want to drive it back to what his ultimate desire was. Here are some common ideas that I've seen from others on what his curse was:
To never turn back into the ultimate monster again.
Laios has repeatedly mentioned that he wanted to be another race and fauns over Falins chimera form. So never being able to shape shift again could be his curse.
Never will be full.
This theory stems from when Laios is still eating the dragon despite his friends being full/stick from overeating. They make a comment of concern when Laios says he's not really full yet. There is also speculation from one of the panel of Laios being dramatic as he tried to eat a walking mushroom.
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Monsters fearing him and/or fail to cultivate them
In my opinion all of these are correct. Yet how?
Laios cannot eat monsters anymore
It was the main driver/theme thought the series from him and his group to eat monsters to survive. Yet little by little Laios ambitious desire to eat monsters for survival quickly became for the pleasure of taste. This isn't a bad thing, as I would like to clarify. Yet the Winged Lion doesn't really have a grasp of humanity and sees desire as desire, thus is exploiting Laios to go down a gluttonous path. And it does this by offering/guide them to a variety of monsters and access to water and basic needs for cooking. This though doesn't work as Laios is Laios. He isn't selfish. His desires for monsters mixed with the need for acceptance is heavily stated with wanted to integrate and cultivate monsters up on the surface. Furthermore, as he's not alone unlike other dungeon masters such as Thistle or Mithrun, his actions are quickly dispelled if they are reckless. For instance Senshi makes a very important note of keeping the ecosystem in balance and to not over take/kill species as it would upset the food chain. Without his party, gluttony would further be his downfall.
Yet becoming the ultimate monster can also be seen as a gluttonous ideal. He's a apex predator, thus like an actual apex predator no one is able to challenge him / prevent him on what he can or cannot eat eat. The only downfall to his survival is his abundance of prey. Heck being able to eat the lion's desire also alludes to his power of gluttony too.
So with the curse, wouldn't it be ironic to prevent his desire to eat monsters. Being the ultimate monster is now a double edged sword as prey escapes him. He cannot share his desires for eating monsters amongst his people anymore, thus the quotes or trial and error from the epilogue pages. Even if he gets his hands on a monster he cannot truly enjoy eating it, as it never makes him full, which can be interpreted from the epilogue page as well. One might look at the page and interpret as him getting ill from eating the walking mushroom too.
Basically, Laios, as a monster, cannot be a part of an ecological process such as a food webs. He wanted to be accepted and liked by his peers, now he's rejected by nature. Forced to crave for the taste of monsters flesh but it remains elusive.
Forever unsatisfied
By ones desire
Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk
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bairdthereader · 3 months
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Charlie Spring, An Appreciation: Part 1, Courage
Nick Nelson gets a lot of love, and justifiably so; I'll be the first to admit that he's amazing (see my many Nick-related posts as evidence). But I hear all too often that Charlie is leveling up by being with Nick, or that Nick is too good for Charlie. I beg to differ—vehemently—and here's why, part 1 (of 3, maybe?).
I often find myself in awe of Charlie during some of the quietest and least dramatic parts of the Heartstopper show and comics, because his bravery, resilience, and tenacity are displayed in ways that seem inconsequential, but are actually incredibly meaningful and telling. This boy has a thread of steel running through him, whether it's obvious at first glance or not.
We see this almost from the very beginning, when Charlie is assigned to a new form and told that he'll be sitting next to Nick, "one of the rugby boys," and, "I'm sure you'll get along swimmingly." Here is not only Charlie's worst personal nightmare, but also a teacher who is blithely unaware of the terrible position he's just put Charlie in--being placed in close, daily proximity to the type of person Charlie associates with the darkest time of his life. But we don't see fear on his face, or even that much dread—this tells us so much about him in just a nanosecond. There's resignation and bitterness, yes, but Charlie knows he can withstand this, because he's been there before and survived. This is borne out in later conversations with Nick where Charlie assures him that "I'm used to it." This is a horrifying injustice, one Nick rightly calls out, and it shows Charlie's resilience in the face of a degree of cruelty that many people never experience.
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This little moment outside of the changing room is another revealing scene. Charlie knows exactly what he's walking into, exactly the kinds of comments and sly bullying he's going to experience in that room. He knows he will have to have his guard up every second, that he will have to prove himself to this group, even though he shouldn't have to. He also knows he'll be fighting his own self-doubt, and so this experience will be a battle on two fronts. (Three fronts, if you include trying to hide his feelings for Nick.) But he does it anyway. Sure, you could argue he's doing it solely to be near Nick, but I think this is also his way of making sure that those boys don't dictate his actions or his life. This is Charlie taking a stand. And this is just one example—he does this over and over and over again, in many different settings and situations.
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Case in point, calling it off with Ben. Charlie has been the victim of what is essentially brainwashing and abuse from Ben for months. Ben has told Charlie verbally and shown him physically that Charlie means less than nothing to Ben, and that Charlie can never expect anyone to ever want him or care for him. And Charlie often, tragically, believes him. That Charlie is able to break free of this vicious cycle and take the steps to distance himself from Ben shows his immense inner strength. You can see on Charlie's face (thanks to Joe Locke's inimitable talent) that he can't even believe he's done it. And we have to keep in mind that this happens long before Nick is a real possibility, so we can't say Charlie does this for Nick. He does it for himself.
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I do have to include one of the more iconic scenes, because this ⬇️is Charlie's clarion call, his hope, his banner, for the rest of this story. He knows he has a lot of problems to work through, that he's complicated and sometimes hard to interpret, so it's easy to see this scene and think Charlie's words come from a place of insecurity (and of course that is some of what's happening here). But he's strong enough to both acknowledge it and ask honestly that Nick not let those parts of Charlie become the focus of their relationship. He requests, even during this moment of almost brutal honesty and vulnerability, that Nick see him completely, as the whole person he can be, because Charlie knows that person is there inside himself. The self awareness and bravery this takes is enormous.
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There are a million other moments like this that I could write about, both big and small:
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But I'll end this already lengthy post with this: When one considers the amount of sheer courage Charlie has to exert just to live his daily life, it almost defies understanding. Charlie Spring is a gladiator of the mind and heart, completely worthy of any good thing.
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phoward89 · 3 months
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Professor!Coriolanus x Innocent!Reader
Masterlist
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Dark!Coryo, Obsessed!Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Sweet!Reader, Naive!Reader, manipulation, obsession, professor/student relationship, power imbalance, age difference, blackmail
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Part 2:
Your mouth felt dry, as if there was cotton in it, and your eyes were a bit heavy as you blinked them open. What the hell? Did you really get hung over from a glass of wine?
Hell…
You must've because you're suffering from a pounding headache. You feel like a woodpecker’s banging against your skull.
When you go to sit up, you notice that you have a long, strong, muscular arm wrapped around you. What the hell?... Who's arm is that? It can't be Professor Snow’s, can it?
No.
No, no, no.
It can't be his arm around you. Even tho you got sick from the win he brought you home, right?
But you suddenly realize that you're not in your room. That room's larger, the furniture’s mahogany, and the walls are a stony-blue instead of your favorite color. Oh my god! You're in your Professor's bed, aren't you.
Oh hell…
Talk about a nightmare.
You look over to where the long arm reaches a body, only to see Professor Snow sound asleep. His platinum blonde curls are a mess against his pillow and his face looks so serene and carefree. Not one wrinkle or line on it.
But then you realize that his chest is bare and that the blanket draped over him is sliding awfully low. You feel like a panic attack’s about to hit you, so you take a couple of deep breaths. But, then you look down and notice that sometime in the middle of the night the blanket and slid down; exposing your bare chest to the air.
Holy shit!
You're naked and in bed with Professor Snow!
And if that isn't enough, you feel and ache between your legs. An ache that tips you off that you slept with your professor last night. But you don't understand why you'd do such a thing. It's so unlike you.
Feeling like the walls are caving in on you, like you don't know what's real and what isn't, you flung your professor's arm off of you and bolt up.
Coriolanus was in a deep sleep, but was abruptly awoken whenever he felt his arm get roughly tossed around. “Where are you going, darling?” Coriolanus asked, his deep voice hoarse with sleep, looking at you as his hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist.
“Get away from me!” You shouted, slapping him across the face while wringing your wrist free from his grasp and pulling the sheet up to cover your naked body with.
The platinum blonde didn't find your dramatics very amusing. He wasn't expecting you to have a melt down as a result of waking up next to him. Oh, why did you have to be so dramatic?
Pinning you underneath him on the bed, Coryo seethed, “Don't hit me again unless you want me to slap you across the face in return.”
With your reaction, Coriolanus knew that he had to resort to his backup plan to get you to behave. And what was his backup plan?
Blackmail.
“Now you listen to me, baby, and you listen to me real good.” Professor Snow hissed dangerously, his baritone thick and poisonous, as his face leaned into yours so closely that you're about to go cross-eyed. “You seduced me and I'm not letting you go run to the University Chancellor crying that I forced myself on you cause I'm not losing my job over your golden cunt.” A dark, calculating look spread over Coriolanus' face; his cerulean eyes turning into black ice. “You're a dirty girl, huh? Seducing me for a passing grade. But I'll fail you if you dare utter a word about last night to anyone.” His lush apricot lips ghosted about yours as he asked, “Am I clear, baby?”
“Crystal.” You nod, eyes wide with fear.
He sits up, a relaxed look all over his handsome face. But as he reaches to grab something off his nightstand, something just doesn't seem right to you. Even tho you were drunk you'd never have a one night stand with your teacher, who's a decade older than you. Hell, you're- well were a virgin up til last night. There's no way you seduced Professor Snow and let him have your first time.
Sitting up, you turn to Coryo as his long fingers wrap around his phone. Needing to know what happened last night, you frantically remark, “I know I was drunk last night from the wine, but none of this makes sense. I was a virgin, I wouldn't just seduce you into deflowering me.”
Coriolanus brings his phone up to his face and unlocks it, all while telling you, “Hate to break it to you, darling, but you were all over me last night.” Quickly, he taps at his phone, only to bring up a video. He pulls you closer, gluing you to side side, while holding the phone up for you to see and hitting play. “You see, Y/N, I recorded us fucking last night. For an insurance policy, in case you try to cry wolf and say that I did something unwanted.”
Your horrified eyes are locked on the video. You feel sick to your stomach watching your drunken self withering underneath your professor- Coryo; begging him for more and moaning out his name. The girl on the video underneath the curly-haired platinum blonde was you, but her actions were so unlike any you'd do. Did being drunk on wine really turn you into a sex crazed vixen?
Coriolanus taps his phone and stops the video. Taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he threatens your reputation with, “Now, wouldn't your parents be so disappointed learning that their youngest fucked her professor after drinking and flirting with him just to becomes the teacher's pet; ensure a passing grade?”
Panic spreads throughout your entire body. Shaking your head, tears stinging your eyes, you try to defend yourself. “I didn't do that, Professor Snow. I don't know what happened last night while I was drunk, but I didn't sleep with you for the top spot in your class.”
Coriolanus nods, hiding his grin of victory. Now he knows he's got you right where he wants you. That you'll do anything to keep your reputation intact- to keep your parents from viewing their spotless lamb as a spiked dove.
“Well, I suppose we could come up with a solution to the predicament we're in.” Coriolanus purs, sounding like the cat that got the cream.
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In life Coriolanus is a cat, you're the cream, and he's got you. Oh boy, does he ever.
His suggestion to solve your problem in the wake of sleeping together was for you to quit school and move in with him as his girlfriend. You didn't like that idea one bit and told him so, but Coriolanus said that your parents would be thrilled at the prospect of him joining the family. But they'd be devastated if the video every came to light, if it ever came out that you seduced your professor to pass a class.
The idea of disappointing your parents terrified you. You wanted them to be proud of you, like they're proud of you our older brother, and if they ever found out about what you did last night…well…
So, what else could you do other then agree to Professor Snow's suggestion?
And that's why you're now living in a gilded cage. A gilded cage of pomp and circumstances.
Coriolanus has you all to himself. You're his dove, caged up for him to do with as he pleases. He plans on making you his assistant once he heals from his poison induced internal injuries. Ones that he'll be getting soon since he's going to be spiking the teapot at the teahouse when he has a friendly meeting with Festus Creed in a handful of minutes.
Honestly, he looks forward to poisoning himself because it means you get to worry over him; dote on him as you care for his wellbeing.
And once he's well again, you'll be by his side from the moment he wakes til the moment he goes to sleep.
Professor Snow always had great ambitions and being glued to the hip to the daughter of Colonel Javani Halvir will surely give his dead political career a sudden breath of life.
But Coriolanus is also obsessively attached to you. More then he expected to become. Without you, he's nothing more then a shallow shell of a man.
“Baby, I'm meeting my friend, Festua Creed, for tea soon. You'll be okay here grading the papers for me?” Coryo asks, strolling into his study where you're seated at his desk- marking up papers with red pen.
Papers in which one of yours should be in, but due to a drunken mistake it's not.
Raising your head and turning your attention to your boyfriend, who’ll become your fiance once the customary 6 months of proper courting is done, and tell him, “I'll be fine, go enjoy your tea.”
The regal blonde comes up to you, only to lean down and press a kiss to your temple. “Don't be too harsh while grading those papers. Not everyone's as bright as you are, my little dove.” Coriolanus whispers against the shell of your ear before leaving you alone in his study.
You just shake your head while underlining something in red pen on the paper you're stuck grading. You can't help, but feel like you're not very bright. If you truly were, you wouldn't have found yourself blackmailed into a relationship with Coriolanus.
But at least your father and Coryo got along. In fact, Colonel Javani Halvir was so happy that you managed to capture the heart of Professor Coriolanus Snow, the son of his late friend and comrade in arms, General Crassus Snow.
But unknown to everyone in Capitol City, Panem is that you're the one that Coriolanus captured. And by nefarious means too.
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engie-ivy · 11 months
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(I really thought this was gonna be a lot shorter than it is! I still couldn't resist the epilogue😅 Written for @wolfstarmicrofic 30th: Traitor, to add some Fluff to an angsty prompt!)
1651 words
Part Two: Label-Stuff
Remus and Sirius are in a strong, committed relationship.
They just don't know it yet.
Couple-Stuff
"Remus, it's just you and me now, there's no one else left." Mary clutches Remus' shoulders as she looks him in the eyes. "We're the last ones standing, the only ones who haven't succumbed. The others all have fallen. It's just you and me."
Lily rolls her eyes. "Dramatic much, Mary?"
Mary shakes her head disappointedly. "Alice was a lost cause ever since she laid eyes on Frank back in third grade. Then Marlene met Dorcas at the coffeeshop and we lost her pretty soon after that. Of course no one can forget the day Gideon took Emmeline away. And now the unthinkable has happened, and our very own Lily gave in to James Potter, of all people." Mary pats Remus' shoulder. "We're the last ones who are still living our best single lives, free and independent."
"Goodness, Mary," Alice sighs. "You talk like being in a relationship means your life is over. It's just the beginning of a whole new and exciting phase!"
Lily nods in agreement. "I must say, it's a lot better than I thought it would be. There are actually so many new experiences to enjoy in life as a couple!"
"Yeah," Marlene says. "Even that stupid lameass couple-stuff isn't so bad when you have someone whom you enjoy being in a stupid lameass couple with. Like going to the bloody Farmer's Market on Saturday morning and sharing one of those giant, ridiculous caramel syrup waffles."
Mary looks unimpressed. "I spend Saturday morning in my bed after partying on Friday night, because, oh yeah, I still have a life."
"I actually like the Farmer's Market," Remus disagrees. "I usually go with Sirius. He pretends he thinks it's all so lame, but who always wants to share the syrup waffle?" He chuckles fondly.
"It's not just outings either," Lily says. "Just the normal everyday stuff too, like cooking, having dinner, doing the dishes, you never have to do it alone anymore."
"Sitting on my couch in my pj's watching trash tv with a bowl of food in my lap is like the best moment of my day," Mary says. "Never eating alone anymore sounds like a literal nightmare," she shudders.
Remus shrugs. "With Sirius and I being roommates, I haven't really been doing those things alone for years."
Emmeline glances at him. "Well, yeah, I guess you can do those kinds of things with a roommate too, but as a couple, you can add sappy romance to that everyday life! Candlelit dinners, movie dates, walks on the beach, watching the sunset…"
"Why does that have to be exclusively for couples?" Remus protests. "I mean, Sirius and I both love dinner and a movie, or taking the dog to the beach and watching the sunset. We can just do those things together."
Mary gives Remus a strange look, but then focuses back on Emmeline. "I can do all those things with three different guys each week if I want to."
Emmeline shakes her head. "It's not the same as being with the one whom you know is your person."
Alice thinks for moment, trying to find the right words. "Think about it like this," she says slowly. "When you're all dolled up, in full makeup, wearing your best outfit, ready for a night of fun, yes, you can have a good time with anyone. But the best thing about being a couple is that when you feel like absolute crap and look like an absolute mess and just want to stay in bed all day, your person will also be there, taking care of you, bringing you comfort food, making you feel better."
"Sirius has a sixth sense for when I'm having a bad day," Remus says with a soft smile. "Whenever I feel down, Sirius will bring home my favourite chocolate cinnamon buns, which they only sell at a bakery on the other side of town. And he's probably the only one who can make my tea exactly as I like it. He will make sure there's always a mug with hot tea on my nightstand when I'm sick."
Alice tilts her head and studies Remus thoughtfully.
Mary arches an eyebrow looking at Remus. "I was gonna say isn't that what you've got a mum for, but apparently, you can also have a roommate for that." She shakes her head. "Anyways, I still don't think having someone to bring me tea when I'm cranky is a good enough reason to have to constantly take someone else into account, deal with jealousy and spend time with in-laws you don't like."
"But even that is suddenly not so bad anymore!" Lily argues. "I always thought that I would hate having to spend my Sundays having dinner with my in-laws, but James is taking me to his parents' house this Sunday for the first time, and I must say, I'm actually excited!"
"Oh, you should be!" Remus says enthusiastically. "Sunday dinners at the Potters' are amazing! I'll tell you, Monty's Sunday roast is to die for!"
The girls all stare at him.
Remus scratches his head awkwardly. "Sirius started taking me with him years ago." He smiles sheepishly. "He says I'm Effie and Monty's favourite by now."
Lily keeps staring at Remus as she continues. "And I'm also going to spend Christmas Day with James' family…"
"Oh," Remus immediately chimes in. "Great! Effie pulls out all stops. Sirius and I always help with-"
"Bloody hell, Remus!" Mary breaks in. "You bloody traitor!"
Remus closes his mouth and blinks at Mary in confusion.
"Here I was, thinking that you were my last ally among the couples, but it turns out that you've been in a bloody relationship with Sirius Black this whole time!"
"I'm in a… With… What?" Remus sputters. "No! Sirius and I are friends, just friends!"
"Remus," Lily says calmly, crossing her arms over her chest. "The only way your relationship with Sirius differs from a couple's, is that you're not having sex with him."
Remus' cheeks turn red and he averts his eyes.
Lily's eyes widen. "Remus John Lupin!" She gasps. "You didn't!"
Remus' face turns bright red as he stares at his hands. "It… happened. Once or twice."
Lily shakes her head. "I can't bloody believe you!"
Remus lifts his head and looks at her defiantly. "Well, can you blame me?" He says defensively. "You know what he looks like! Besides, what's the harm?" He shrugs. "We're both single, but we still both have… urges, so to speak, and we find each other physically attractive, so why not?"
"And do either of you ever sleep with anyone else?" Marlene asks seemingly casually, studying her nails.
"I'm not," Remus says. "I mean, Sirius is just objectively incredibly attractive, no one can deny that, and we have great… uhm, chemistry in the bedroom, so it really wouldn't make sense for me to go out of my way to pick up some random guy. I don't really know about Sirius, but I don't think…" Remus trails off, pausing on the idea of Sirius with someone else and feeling inexplicably nauseous, and suddenly he wants nothing more than to change the subject. "Look, this is all very personal, and none of your business!"
"And do either of you ever date anyone else?" Marlene asks undeterred.
"We're not dating!"
"Fine." Marlene rolls her eyes. "Does either of you ever date anyone?"
Remus shakes his head. "Why would we? Sirius is my best friend for a reason, I can't imagine having a better time with anyone else, and I have zero desire to spend an evening making awkward small talk with a stranger. Besides, we both aren't looking for anything. Sirius does not want to give up on his freedom, and I don't want to deal with all the expectations and accompanying anxiety that come with a relationship."
"Oh, for god's sake, I can't bloody believe it!" Lily pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. "You and Sirius are both so bloody afraid of commitment, but you completely failed to notice you've been in a bloody committed relationship to each other for years!"
"Sirius' and mine relationship is platonic!" Remus insists. "And, well, sometimes also physical, I guess. Platonic and physical, not romantic. I mean, not that I don't love him. Of course I love him, but more in a way that we complete each other. Sirius just feels like home, he's the only one who…" Remus trails off and runs a hand through his hair. "Wait, what was I saying again?"
Mary gives him a flat look. "I believe you were explaining how you love Sirius and are physically attracted to him, he's your other half and you're safe haven, but oh, all in a purely platonic way of course."
Remus groans and hides his face in his hands. "I'm screwed, aren't I?"
"Jamie?" Lily asks hesitantly.
James hums while he's laying with his head on Lily's lap, as she runs her fingers through his hair (like she has absolutely not been itching to do since fifth grade, no, absolutely not).
"Would you…" Lily is very careful to breach the topic. James isn't exactly good at dealing with change, and she doesn't want to upset him. Remus and Sirius are his best friends, and he might not be happy with the dynamic of their group potentially changing. Besides, those boys are both like brothers to him, so what if it makes him uncomfortable if the relationship between the two of them turns out to be not-so-brotherly?
Lily braces herself. "How would you feel about Remus and Sirius potentially one day being… more than friends?"
James stills, and a moment passes with him just laying motionless with his head under her hand, as Lily holds her breath.
Then James sits up and turns to her, his eyes wide and blinking at her. "Haven't they been a couple for the past three years?"
Read Part Two here!
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thewebcomicsreview · 7 months
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I'm hardly the first person to notice this, but good god webcomics are the least time-efficient possible way of telling a story, aren't they?
I've been trying to figure out a better method of telling a story so that I could finish it before I die of old age (or, perhaps more relevantly, before everyone loses interest). It seems like no one really wants to read prose on the internet, but also people don't really like a comic that takes a year to go anywhere.
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The main bottleneck is dialogue. You can only get 2-3 lines in a standard comic panel, so even a short conversation of character texture can take several pages. It makes me wonder if the Single Panel With Text Beneath It style (like ForEach) isn't just the Objectively Correct™ way to tell a comic on the internet. It's very efficient on the art, you can include narration if that's your jam, and it's very easy to make it work on mobile. (Also the art being separate is a boon if you want to make marketing materials). But everyone will correctly call you a Homestuck rip off.
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Though the other thing Homestuck did was make these sprites of the characters that could be used to crank out a bunch of panels for scenes where nothing visually interesting was happening. You don't really see that copied as much
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Not openly, anyway. There's a stigma. I've thought about rebooting Legend of the Hare as a visual novel, where that kind of thing is arbitrarily more accepted, but it does start raising the question of why you're bothering with the visuals at all. I don't think the kind of person who makes webcomics is usually looking for an excuse to get out of drawing, even if it lets them increase their page output dramatically. Making sprites that don't look like absolute ass is also really hard. Homestuck sprites have a really specific janky charm to them that I've never really seen any other comic pull off.
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And, yeah, you could always just use a simpler art style, like Order of the Stick does, but it's super hard to get anyone to read a webcomic with great art, let alone simple art designed to maintain a high page output. And, again, why are you making a comic if you don't want to draw, unless you just naturally happen to draw that way and be really fucking good at it like Rich Burlew is?
It seems like the only really good way to tell a story in a reasonable amount of time as a webcomic artist is to make enough money off it that you can work full time, and, um, that's not really feasible either.
I don't have an answer I like. I guess just kill yourself in the content mines working webcomics as a second job that doesn't pay you anything.
I don't have a conclusion, capitalism is a nightmare.
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wakkass · 1 year
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It's impossible to put into words how much I love designing characters, especially for AU.
Yes, I recently had an avatar AU, and I really wanted to draw Katara from there (and also Zuko). I usually draw a static pose in order to display all the details of the clothes. This is such a kind of character sheet that helps me to better imagine the scenes in my head.
If you're interested in reading about the AU itself, then there will be some information about it.
I apologize in advance for mistakes in the text, English is not my native language. But, I hope, this will not interfere with understanding.
In general, my AU concerns the ending of the series, because at some point it seemed unrealistic to me. There is too much positivity with the obvious problems of the post-military space, as well as little logic in some moments (for example, I don't understand what Zuko was doing in Ba Sing Se. Did he abandon his newfound throne to the mercy of fate with the risk of a palace coup? Did he not feel the effects of a lightning strike? The longer I think about it, the surreal it seems to me).
At some point I thought, "this is all like Aang's dream, in which everything is intentionally good. As if this is the ending he wants, but it's unattainable." And then it dawned on me. But it really looks like his fantasy about the future after defeating the root of evil. This explains why Zuko recovered so easily, why everyone is just relaxing and having fun without a drop of post-trauma. Because Aang wants everything to be so naive and simple after defeating the Fire Lord. Because he's dreaming about it.
I know this is a very hackneyed narrative technique. It's pretty easy to say "this is someone's dream" to deny any events. But I found it curious, especially against the background of the episode "Nightmares and Daydreams", where Aang's dreams already simplified the reality around him. For me, it's like a lead-up to the finale, where he actually sleeps.
You ask, "but why is he sleeping?". I also asked this question, and the answer to it killed me. Because during the battle with Ozai, when the stone hit Aang in the wound, he fell into a coma. His body was paralyzed because his brain perceived it as a repeated lightning strike, again fatal. The avatar's state was the only one that did not allow Aang to die, but only to fall into a coma. And instead of an epic battle, we have a little helpless boy spending a huge amount of energy just to maintain his life.
The second Aang collapsed, he disappeared, leaving Ozai alone with the remnants of his temporary power. And no one else saw the avatar…
I'll leave the intrigue for you about this, but for now I'll tell you about the concepts from the art.
Naturally, everyone searched for Aang, and, naturally, they did not find him. Katara and Zuko were the only ones who did not participate in the search, for several reasons:
Zuko was rehabilitated for a very long time after being struck by lightning, and Katara nursed him (I'm sure there are a lot of fics about this topic. The only difference is that there is no romance here. The focus of my AU is not on it, but on the problems of the consequences of the war). He survived, but he had major problems with his heart, digestive system and spine. Who noticed the cane in his hands? Yes, Zuko couldn't walk without it. From now on and forever. He was physically unable to leave the palace, and Katara maintained at least some of his condition.
Even after Zuko's rehabilitation, it was necessary to keep the power in his hands. Imagine what a shock the Fire Nation experienced when not just the former Fire Lord was overthrown, but the country's policy changed dramatically. Now Zuko needed to keep power in his hands and establish a new regime as soon as possible, before his opponents raised armies and people against him. This boy, who recently sat quietly at a military meeting, needed to show unprecedented strength and power to everyone: both officials sought to turn the situation in their favor, and the people who wanted stability and prosperity. But how to do this if Zuko couldn't even breathe normally, and getting out of bed required tremendous effort? It was impossible… Anyone else would have given up, but not Zuko. He has never given up without a fight and has never turned his back on danger, even if he risks dying.
It hurts me a lot for him, too. Fate has never stopped pushing Zuko against obstacles, but this time he couldn't rely on himself. He almost couldn't bend, his body almost didn't obey. He was an easy target and there was nothing he could do about it. This helplessness irritated him, saddened him, oppressed him. The only thing that wasn't broken yet was his spirit, and Zuko was barely able to maintain it in such conditions. If it wasn't for Katara, I don't know if he would have coped in the end. She was now his only support, his only ally in these cold oppressive walls, the only rational grain in his doubts.
You ask, "Where is Iroh? Where is Mai?"
Iroh, along with the White Lotus, took on a mission to liberate the Earth Kingdom from the Fire Army and establish relations with the kingdom. In fact, Iroh now shared power with Zuko: uncle was engaged in foreign policy so that his nephew could focus on domestic policy.
With Mai, everything was much simpler: after getting out of prison, she was completely disappointed in the guy who always left her. She sent him a letter, where she finally ended their relationship, and left with her family somewhere far away. Perhaps she and Zuko will cross paths again and will be able to establish a relationship. But not now.
Katara remained to help Zuko not only with treatment, but also with his policy. As a resident of an almost disappearing tribe, as well as an able leader, she helped him with projects and plans to improve the quality of life of the population and actively participates in them. She performed those missions that Zuko can only entrust to her. After all, she was a friend he could rely on and to whom he could open his feelings.
In her design, I wanted to reflect the combination of two cultures: Fire and Water. I was based on the designs of the "12 Kingdoms" (if you haven't watched this gorgeous anime or haven't read ranobe, I strongly recommend doing it. This universe is no less interesting than the avatar's world, I'm sure you'll like it), because the palace intrigues and the plot with winning the respect of the court reminds me very much of the story from there.
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One day Zuko's legs finally gave up, he could not get up. All the stress he was going through was breaking his body so much that at some point the Katara's treatment stopped working.
It was a very difficult moment for both of them. Zuko has just started to promote his ideas and defend his rights to the throne, and Katara sincerely did not know what to do. If the truth about the true state of the Fire Lord had come out, all the ill-wishers would not leave this opportunity and attack, this couldn't be allowed. They urgently needed to create the appearance that everything is in order, but how?
Zuko came up with a very brazen idea. He asked Katara to use bloodbending on him to simulate walking. It was a very difficult request for her, because this skill represented the worst face of the war, it was created to torture people. And the last thing she wanted was to torment Zuko. She hesitated for a long time, he saw it, but he couldn't wait. He couldn't stop, it wasn't a luxury he could afford. Therefore, he went out, trying not to get up and move much.
Naturally, at some point his weakness was noticed at the most inopportune moment. Naturally, at this moment Katara couldn't let Zuko fall. Imperceptibly under her sleeves, she moved her friend's body like a puppet, causing him as much unbearable pain as most would not stand. But Zuko was not like that. He stood it.
It looked like this to me somehow:
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They were both very depressed that day. He was suffering physically because of Katara's bending, and she could not believe that she had caused the suffering of a person dear to her. It broke and scared her, she opened the way to the Hama's madness, and was very afraid to fall into it.
Zuko assured her that it was impossible. Hama didn't have people to guide her, while Katara has friends. Maybe Zuko didn't consider himself the best moral mentor, but he promised to be there in the most difficult moments for Katara, and now he won't leave her.
This encouraged her and opened her eyes to her own cowardice. She was afraid of the darkness of Hama, and instead of curbing it, Katara hid it in herself, ignored it. And that's what it led to: the person who needed her help suffered. But she didn't want to run away anymore. She wasn't going to give up without a fight and turn her back on those who needed her.
At the beginning, Katara trained on herself, experiencing the same pain as the victims of bloodbending. Careless movement of blood through the vessels could cause internal bleeding at any time, it was very dangerous. The Hama's voice in her head pressed on her conscience, saying that innocent people felt all this pain, and only Katara was to blame for this.
Later, she learned to control the flow of water on puppets, like Hama. The point was to pass water through the threads without bursting them. Absolute control was required here, and Zuko taught her the techniques of firebending for self-control. This was necessary for Katara, because the Hama's voice in her head did not subside and did not allow her to correctly distribute her forces. It seemed like Katara was about to stumble, but Zuko wouldn't let her do it.
Gradually, Katara mastered this skill and tried to draw blood on Zuko's legs. The effect was unexpected. Her great willpower and desire to help him resulted in healing. Zuko began to feel his legs, and Katara discovered the reverse side of this bending. No, she didn't heal him completely, it's too early for him to get rid of the cane. But maybe one day she will become so strong that she can do it.
Katara realized that there was no evil magic, there was only evil intent. This was her first step towards learning to look inner demons in the face, and not to hide them in herself when it was possible to hurt others.
But what about the other design?
Katara's father sent her a letter asking her to return. Her family needed her help, because she was the last waterbender, a carrier of culture and skills, as well as a healer of a new level, the daughter of a tribal leader.
At home, everything was not the same as before, moreover, everything taked shape as a Northern Tribe. I really like the idea of the comic "North and South" about the problem of assimilation. Only here has Katara accepted all aspects of its culture, even the most unpleasant ones, and she would not give up so easily when this newfound knowledge was in danger of disappearing.
Actually, I wanted to draw her outfit of this arch. I wanted to redesign the costume for myself, because I like to do it. I kept the front strands of Katara, we don't talk much about them.
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I would really like to describe the path of the rest of the team and what they do, of Aang and what happens to him. But I'm already tired of typing, and you probably read.
After all, the post is more about designs, and not about the AU itself, so the goal to reveal some of my ideas has been achieved in principle. Maybe sometime later.
Hope you enjoyed reading this :3
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wraithdance · 27 days
Text
The Five Year Plan | Gaz x Reader
Synopsis: When your fiancé breaks up with you, you start to question your timeline; who needs a man when you can have a baby yourself? Who better to ask for help on creating one than your arch-nemesis Kyle Garrick?
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Note: F!Reader, Fat/Plus sized Reader, Reader is implied to be Black but can be read as WoC, Readers nickname is 'Siggy', there will be no y/n use Content warning: none; besides a terrible grasp of british-isms, this is a poorly edited filler pov for Kyle because I'm burned out from prepping for the semester start next week :'(
Chapter Two: Should I Get Her Cake?
Kyle was deeply confused.
He stared at the sad little wreath on Siggy's door (a relic from Christmas she never took down) pondering what exactly he did to set her off this time.
He's of course not thrown off by the door being slammed in his face or being told to piss off, as Siggy was prone to dramatics and made it a mission to do one (often both) at least thrice during the week. Kyle furrows his brow trying and failing to understand what cake had to do with anything.
He hadn't mentioned it whatsoever, just the tea.
He'd really never say anything about cake as he didn't really enjoy it very much, or really any crumbling confection. He'd been on one too many ends of an ear cuffing as a child for getting sugar or icing on his school uniform. His solution was to avoid the matter altogether.
With his arms crossed and head cocked in thought he tries to replay the last 15 minutes in his head again.
He'd come back from his run, said hello to the doorman, chatting with him about Kyle's mum and her new found bridge obsession. Then he'd checked the mail (nothing but junk so he tossed it with a sigh) and had come back upstairs. He wasn't exactly surprised to see Madelyn crying, she often cried, often cried on this floor in particular for some reason. 
It'd been how he'd met the younger woman actually. He'd opened his door to her knocks and come face to face with big green eyes and a quivering lip.
Kyle had not been in the best mood- honestly he'd been murderous, one would be after being in fucking Urzikstan of all places, where he'd been a stones throw away from death by falling out of a helicopter. He'd finally gone to a dreamless sleep after returning home from the nightmare of an operation, when he'd woken to the timid knocks. He'd landed on his ass from the couch and cursed every deity known to man as he stomped to the door.  
They'd both been confused by the other upon his answering, Madelyn more so then him. The petite woman had squeaked up at him in fear. With an eye twitch Kyle had asked Madelyn what the issue was. She'd simply burst into tears and said something about her sink being broken.
He'd calmed her down eventually, neck heating from embarrassment when she'd launched herself into his arms. Siggy had chosen that moment to walk by and had given him a look of complete judgment- eyebrow raise and a look up and down- and all. He'd tried to explain that he didn't know what was happening and Siggy had just snorted, crab walking inside with her obscenely large shopping bags of clothing and slammed the door.
(She really was big on that.)
Kyle had gotten Madelyn to calm down enough for him to learn that the building's handyman had lived in Kyle's apartment previously. Madelyn had thought to ask him for assistance on fixing the overflowing sink in her bathroom but hadn't known he'd moved out. 
That was strange to Kyle as he'd been living in the flat for at least two years at that point. 
Madelyn had explained that away saying she'd been on an extended sabbatical in Prague helping rescue stray cats. Kyle didn't really want details on that, so he'd offered to help her with her sink in the interim. She'd bounced about happily when he'd tightened the loose handle of her faucet. Ever since she'd been coming to his floor for different odds and ends or to drink tea and watch Downtown Abbey.
He hadn't known she knew Siggy at all, so he was completely taken aback by what he would consider a low threat hostage situation. Considering Kyle's career he knew this was nowhere on the scale for dangerous situations but Siggy looked ready to jump out of the nearest window.
He'd thought he was being helpful by offering himself up to Madelyn as a distraction but that had only seemed to make Siggy angrier. Her lips had curled up in utter disgust the moment he'd offered tea for Maddy and it had avalanched into his current confusion about the cake.
He gives up figuring it out after a spell, turning towards his door with a furrow in his brow. He reaches for the handle when a sudden thought stops him in his tracks.
Siggy was vengeful.
In a way that put some of his more mischievous methods of retaliation to shame. He'd thought he had reached peak pettiness when he'd gaslit Johnny into believing he was prematurely balding for three weeks straight. He'd done it by shaving small coin sized spots of hair on the Scot's body and keeping a poker face when accused.
(Soap should have learned not to wake Kyle up at ungodly hours with useless chatter. Then to have the nerve to make fun of a man's silk bonnet of all things?)
(Besides, if anyone was traumatized it was KYLE, the hyperactive man was hairier than a dog and Kyle still had nightmares about it, but he digresses.)
When Siggy was upset and feeling particularly vindicated about it, she had a nasty habit of playing mind games or being an outright bully. She was single-handedly responsible for more than one neighbor’s decision to move out after declaring war on them for some reason or other.
He'd witness her stealing welcome mats, making noise complaints, using her law degree to intimidate, or getting into outright yelling matches with offenders. Hell, Kyle had suspected she was behind the great trash bin brawl.
Trash bins on the floor had gone mysteriously missing and reappeared in odd places within the building. The result was accusations being thrown and Mr. Haversack and Mr. Dudley coming to blows.
Kyle, who had come off of another long mission abroad, had walked into the aftermath of the chaos. He'd sidestepped the police who'd had his neighbors in cuffs and were taking down statements, to stand at a self satisfied Siggy's side as she watched on.
She was eating a sweet and chuckling to herself. She'd been far too invested in the goings on to be unkind to him standing so close, she'd even told him what happened.
Kyle wasn't an idiot, far from it and he prided himself on that fact. It's what got him into such an elite military squad in the first place. One does not get awarded medals for their counter-terrorism efforts by being a numpty. So he without a doubt, knew Siggy had been the one behind the trash bin debacle and told her so.
She'd gazed at him under lowered lashes and cocked a brow as if to say 'Oh, really?'
Kyle won't admit he was a bit lightheaded watching her lick icing from her fingers while maintaining eye contact with him. Instead he'd told her of his thought process on why he thought she was the culprit. Siggy had shrugged neither confirming nor denying, and very obviously did not care about his opinion on her innocence.
He'd still given it nonetheless, she hadn't taken well to being called childish.
Siggy had sworn at him (again something Kyle will never admit got his blood racing) and had gone on a tangent about the neighbors she'd been menacing. It took Kyle awhile to stop watching her flashing eyes and heaving chest in interest to understand what she'd been saying to him.
According to Siggy, some of the neighbors had been reporting the only Asian family on their floor to the home office for made up infractions. Mr. Dudley had rallied up a few others sympathetic to his cause, to assist in the targeted harassment of the family of four.
Siggy was enacting justice on the scared families behalf as they'd been frightened about possible retaliation impacting their immigration status if they spoke up.
Kyle had felt like a right dick and apologized to Siggy profusely.
She'd tilted her chin to look down her nose at him, preening at his groveling. She'd accepted after some time and Kyle had asked about Mr. Haversack's part in the fray. Siggy had just shrugged, polishing off her sweet, citing that Mr. Haversack had closed the lift on her when she'd been attempting to juggle groceries.
Her bag with her carton of eggs and strawberries had dropped when she'd raced to the lift trying to make it before the doors closed. She claimed Mr. Haversack had given her a dirty look and pressed the buttons to close the doors when she'd stared down at the mess on the floor.
The memory gave Kyle a pause.
Siggy did seem to take food related offenses very personally. Kyle looks at her door again in consideration.
“Should I get her some cake?” he questions into the air of the silent hallway. 
After a beat he makes plans to pick some up at the market next to the shady burger shop in the morning, as an apology for whatever he’d done. The last thing he needed was another reason for Siggy to steal his paper off his doorstep.
With that in mind Kyle finally walks inside his flat to join Madelyn for tea.
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shadowdaddies · 8 months
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Could you do a Rhys x reader where people always thought she was more masculine until she mated with Rhys where she started to become and feel more comfortable being feminine and just being herself.
It’s like the saying where if the woman feels safe enough and comfortable in the relationship, she allows herself to be more feminine and starts to relax little by little.
It’s also like that trend going around on TikTok where it’s like when you’re by yourself, you double check everything and you are hyper aware of everything around you, but the second your husband is there, you can relax and just turn off your brain and not worry about anything lol
Hopefully I explained this well enough. My dyslexic ass is having a rough time today 😀
okay tbh I'm not the most familiar with this but a special thank you to @lidiacerv0s for the help + showing me the TikTok trend. I hope you enjoy this, it was fun to write🤗💜
The Archer
Rhysand x fem!Reader fluff
warnings: this gets very suggestive towards the end, I couldn't help it 🤷‍♀️
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With a final sweep of black coal to your eyes, you stepped back from the mirror, taking in your finished look. You kept the makeup simple but dark, to match the all-black tailored suit you’d donned for today’s meetings. Smoothing down the sides of your hair - neatly pulled back in a tight bun - you sighed, already tired of the facade you were building.
Rhys was busy with matters in Windhaven, leaving you in charge of the meeting with the Lords in the Hewn City today. It was doomed to be a day full of males challenging you and people looking to you for direction, something that always exhausted you.
A knock on your door distracted you from those thoughts, and you took one last look in the mirror at the severe female staring back at you before striding towards the door, head held high and chest out as you wore the mask of confidence you relied on as part of your role of High Lady.
The click of your heels echoed through the obsidian stone hallways, announcing your approach to the counsel room. The set of double doors were opened for you, your unamused gaze sweeping the room as you assessed the varying levels of nerves each Lord exuded in your presence. 
With a cruel smile, you looked to Keir, the Lord immediately straightening in his seat at your piercing gaze. You let out a dramatic sigh, long nails idly tapping against the long table as you relaxed in your chair. 
“Report,” you ordered, smooth voice cutting through the room like a knife as everyone grew impossibly silent. Keir rambled about problems in the Court of Nightmares, status of the Darkbringers. Complaint after complaint from each incompetent male at the table. All problems and no solutions. 
As Lord Thanatos began to complain about his daughter and the behavior of the young women in the court for the thousandth time, you cut him off, letting the dark look in your eyes convey the thinly veiled threat that lurked beneath your words like a shark in the water.
“I will be sure to check on your daughter, as well as all the females in this Court soon. Any threats that we find will be dealt with at the hands of the Shadowsinger.” You looked pointedly at Thanatos with those words, your lips curving upwards as the scent of his fear permeated the air. 
“Now that you all have your agendas, this meeting is adjourned.” You stood from your chair, chin high as you strode towards the doors that were already being opened for you. 
With a glance over your shoulder, you flashed a feline grin at the males, each of them shrunk into the seat of their chairs as they stared at you, wide-eyed like the helpless children they were inside. “Do not disappoint me,” you purred, a final warning before you disappeared from their sight.
You barely held your composure, forcing yourself to keep a leisured pace until you were away from everyone. Closing the door to your room, you nearly collapsed against the wood as you finally let the mask slip. 
An inviting tug on the bond nearly brought tears to your eyes - Rhys was home. Without a second thought, you winnowed back to Velaris, kicking off your heels as you ran to where Rhys stood, stirring something that smelled incredible over the stove.
“You’re home,” you cried, running towards him. Rhys set down the ladle, fully turning towards you as he wrapped you in his arms, allowing you to sink into his comforting warmth. 
Pressing a kiss to your head, Rhys tilted your chin up to look at him. “You are so beautiful, darling,” he whispered, capturing your lips in his in a hungry kiss. You collapsed into his hold, back arched as you allowed yourself to be swept away from your worries as he swept your feet off the ground.
“Are you making dinner?” you murmured against his lips, admiring the way Rhys’s violet eyes twinkled as he looked down at you, playfully bumping his nose against yours. 
“Mhm,” he hummed. “I’m trying a new recipe that I think you’ll love.” Tears threatened to spill as relief washed over you, this magnificent male who would always care for you, look out for your needs.
“Thank you, my love,” you whispered, allowing Rhys to set your feet back on the ground as he prepared plates for the two of you. 
“Come here,” Rhys purred, patting his leg as he took a seat at the table, both plates in front of him. You practically squealed with delight as you dashed to claim your seat in your mate’s lap. Relaxing against his warm chest, you sighed as Rhys slid an arm around your waist, rubbing soothing circles against your skin as he cut your food for you. 
“Here, darling,” Rhys whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck as he brought the fork to your lips. You moaned at the flavors, head leaning back against Rhys as you murmured praises for his cooking. 
“I am so lucky to have you,” you whispered, kissing his cheek as Rhys grabbed another forkful of food for you. 
He simply chuckled, his hand squeezing your waist affectionately. “And I you, my love.”
Once you were content, a full meal resting in your stomach, you began to gather the plates to clean up. “No you don’t. Let me do that. Why don’t you go take a bath, change into something more comfortable?” Rhys teased, his eyes darkening with barely controlled desire.
You responded with a smirk, pulling your hair from its updo as you let the hair fall over your shoulders in waves. “I can do that. But I want to bake you something for dessert after,” you countered. 
Rhys swallowed thickly as he watched you ascend the staircase, his eyes trained on your form with each step. You stepped into the bathroom, a content sigh slipping from your lips as you breathed in the floral scents wafting from the already-filled bathtub. 
Peeling off the offensive suit, an unabashed moan left you at the feeling of the warm water on your muscles. Allowing yourself to soak for a short while, you scrubbed the memories of the day from your skin before stepping out of the tub. 
A devious grin graced your lips at the idea that came to mind as you stared in your wardrobe, pulling the lacy pink lingerie from the drawer. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help the bright smile that took over your features as the real you smiled back. 
You strode down the stairs, the confidence you exhibited real this time as you locked eyes with your mate. Rhys watched you, enchanted, from the other side of the room, admiring your free-flowing hair and the way the lace of your lingerie framed your curves.
“What are you doing?” he choked out, his knuckles white as they clutched the countertop.
Bending over, you gave your mate a view of the cheeky panties you wore (if they could even be called that) as you pulled ingredients from the cabinet. “I’ve had to deal with those incompetent males, wear awful restrictive clothing all day... I just want to spend some time with my mate, wearing something that’s a bit more... me,” you finished with a giggle, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you cracked an egg in the bowl.
Rhys prowled to stand behind you, his hands roving over every part of you he could touch. Playfully swatting away his hand, you shook your head as you scolded him.
“If you would like to help with the baking, you are welcome to. We can play later,” you whispered, lifting up on your toes to give a playful tug to his earlobe. Rhys shivered, but nodded as he stepped back slightly. 
“I would always like to do whatever serves my lady,” he responded, his finger lightly grazing your arm. “What can I do for you?” 
You hummed thoughtfully, swaying your hips as you whisked. “I would love if you would taste this for me,” you declared, scooping a bit of the chocolate batter on your pointer finger. Violet eyes darkened further as Rhys gripped your wrist in his large hand, drawing your finger into his mouth. 
You could see the moment he scented your arousal, his tongue flicking against the digit as his eyes remained locked on yours. “Delicious, as always,” he moaned, smirking as you pulled away with a blush.
“Alright then, let me get this into the baking pan then,” you whispered. Before you could reach for the pan, Rhys already had it in his hand, reaching for the bowl as he poured the remaining batter. 
Rhys held you in his lap, playing with your hair as you told him about your day, and listened about his while the brownies baked. 
“You are an incredible female,” your mate murmured, his sweet words interrupted by the timer signaling that dessert was ready. You leapt from Rhys’s lap, enjoying the feeling of his eyes on your body as you plated dessert for the each of you and returning to your spot on his lap. Pleased moans left the both of you at the rich taste of dessert, and you settled into Rhys’s arms, deep contentment settling over you. 
Rhys scooped you up bridal style, carrying you over to the couch where he wrapped himself around you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as his hands idly wandered your body. 
“What else do you want to do tonight?” Rhys whispered, dipping his head to pepper kisses along your neck.
A content sigh left you at the comfort and care he was giving you, a vibrant contrast to the dark role you played earlier today. “Nothing tonight. I just want to spend time with you, my perfect mate,” you responded, pressing a lingering kiss above his heart as you settled into him.
“Well, how about tomorrow I take you shopping? And then we could get dressed up, go to a nice dinner?” Rhys questioned, his playful tone a show of exactly how well he knew you. 
“I could be convinced to do that, I suppose,” you retorted, unable to hold in the joyous laugh that escaped you. 
Rhys flipped you over, his onyx locks falling in his eyes as he caged you in underneath him. “Good, because I’m not done with dessert. And these,” Rhys emphasized with a snap against the band of your panties, “will need to be replaced,” he purred as you heard the fabric rip.
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