#its genuinely one of the best things ever made I love music so so much

[ajxrn-archive]

I love music

[fluffysucker]

Say Something.

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Mob Au)

'You are the one that I love, and I'm saying goodby'

It is written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.

A/N: I was writing a request that was so fluffy but couldn't shake this from my head. I had to let it out. Let me know if you want part two. Also, if any of you wanted to in a taglist, you are so welcome. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me

TW: Mentions of physical abuse. Mention of miscarriage.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you tried to focus on the good things. Your hair was combed to perfection. Not a single strand of hair falling from its place. The hairpieces made the hairstyle ravishing. The simple makeup look you asked for was excellently done. Highlighting your best features with colours that work best with your skin tone. However, the best thing yet was the dress. It was your dream dress. It hugged your body like it was made specially for me, which it was. From the material, the shade of the white, to its exact length in centimetres, the dress was dazzling. And the look was beautifully finished with the white flowers you were holding.

You looked stunning. The most gorgeous you have ever been. However, you didn't feel like it. You wanted to get out of here. You wanted to disappear. You wanted to hide from everyone. It was becoming too real. There was no escape. Before the panic could take over and make you break down on the floor, the door to your room knocked. You turned to see your father enter the room.

On this day, they said fathers get emotional. They would tear up or cry. You would be able to see the undying love they have for their little girls as they grow up. But you could only see one thing in your father's eyes. Victory. He was about to have the biggest deal of his life finalised today, no matter what it cost. You wondered if the signs had always been there. That your rocky relationship with your father would lead to this. The lies you used to tell yourself that your father loved you were never true. That your happiness mattered nothing in the face of his interests. At least he had the decency to tell you that you looked beautiful.

You locked your hand between his arms as he led you outside, where everyone was waiting. You tried to ease your nerves and draw the biggest smile your face could handle. You stood in front of the door as it opened. There was no going back now.

You tried to focus on the music playing and the bright blue sky instead of the people staring at you. You wanted the aisle to be longer. You didn't want to reach the end. Because for you, it was the end of everything. Your wishes weren't granted. Your father came to a stop. He pressed a kiss to your cheek as he handed you to your future husband.

It took a lot from you to keep a smile on your face. Standing in front of your husband-to-be, holding your hands between his foreign hands. You were trying to convince yourself that the smile on his face was genuine and that maybe it wasn't just an accord with him. Maybe there was still hope. Which is why you avoided his eyes so you wouldn't be disappointed.

But you should have known better. You should have known that it was not his eyes that you should have avoided. It was the ocean blue eyes that never left you. But the moment you noticed him, you couldn't turn away. His eyes spoke loudly. So loud. Pain and defeat are coated with anger and rage.

You remember vividly your last conversation together. Your crying and begging for him to understand. His accusations of not loving him enough. But you did. You loved him enough. You loved him too much. Which is why you refused to let him stand in the face of your father. You couldn't let him risk his life. You couldn't let this kind of danger fall on him. And most certainly not because of you. Your father was neither understanding nor loving. So if you had to live miserable lives, he could live his life. That is a sacrifice you were willing to make. And just like that, your three-year relationship was down the drain.

You couldn't help but stare at the man who meant everything to you. who your heart beats for. The love of your life. He was sitting close, yet so far. It should have been him standing here. It should have been the happiest day of your life. But fate was never on your side. Starting with making you fall in love with your father's rival

You thought about the days you spent together behind closed doors so nobody would see you. The lazy morning in bed with you cuddled up in his arms The movie nights that would always end with heated makeout sessions. The secret dates under nobody's eyes. The stolen getaways so you can finally be free and act like the so deeply in love couple that you were. The happiest days of your life. Now they were memories you kept so close to your heart.

You collected yourself quickly before your act would fall as your fiancé squeezed your hand. You heard him say the two words, and you wanted to cry. You wanted to shout and scream. You wanted to throw a tantrum like a child. That was how desperate you were. But you never did. The officiate turned to you to ask you the same question. You wanted to have the courage to say no. Stand your ground. Tell the truth. Run away with the man who has ever truly loved you. But you couldn't. There was too much to lose.

With one last look at the man who would always have a hold on your heart, you kept the tears inside, and with a heavy breath, you turned to the officiate and said, "I do".

"And now, I announce you as husband and wife." Waves of clapping and cheers filled the decorated garden while dreed filled you.

And just like this, you went from being a Pierce to being a Rumlow. And you lost Bucky Barnes.

Twirling the straw between your manicured fingers, you were standing at the bar. Taking a break from all the chatting and loud laughter. You were delaying rejoining the others. The act has been getting harder lately. You were trying to stay a little bit longer in the peaceful corner of the venue. Until you heard his voice. Your thoughts stopped. Your heartbeat went faster. You knew he was in here. Your circle of acquaintances would usually cross. You would meet on these occasions. But you never talked or acknowledged each other. Stolen glances were all you had ever done.

You gave in to the urge and turned to look at him. You couldn't help the smile that formed on your lips. You hadn't been that close since before the wedding. He looked so good. The expensive black suit. The huge frame. The low bun. The well-trimmed beard. The strong perfume. You felt the tears gather in your eyes. You missed him terribly. Beyond what you ever thought.

Your staring must have caught his attention, and he turned his sight in your direction. He didn't expect to find you here. He knew you went off to hide somewhere for a little bit. He didn't know it would be at the bar. You always tried to steal some time away from these events. He often kept an eye on you whenever he knew you were an attendee. It was a force of habit. A habit he couldn't break despite how hard he tried.

After the wedding, he hoped that every time he met you again, he wouldn't feel his heart move from its place. But this time, it never came. Every time, he was taken back by your beauty and grace. Your captivating eyes and sweet smile. You were always the most beautiful.

And there you were, sitting close to him. Yet so out of reach. How he wished he could take you away and escape this world. The bartender placing his order in front of him broke you both out of your trace. You regained control of yourself, pulling the drink to your lips to take a sip. That's when he saw it. The reason for the distance between you. The reason for your downfall. The wedding ring with a big diamond ornamenting your finger

"Mrs. Rumlow." He cleared his throat before he spoke his bitter word.

The last name was never music to your ears. However, for him, it was like a hit in the gut.

"Mr. Barnes." You understood why he would choose to be so formal. To the world, you were rivals acting civilised. Nobody knew what you both meant to each other.

God, he missed your sweet-like-honey voice. It soothed him and put his mind at ease. Now, it was a harsh reminder of a harsher reality.

"Congratulations on the new deal. I heard it was very successful." Despite the bar being less crowded, you were still surrounded by people. You couldn't let them know the truth or even sense something. You had to act normal. Like you never knew him outside of this room.

"Thank you." The shortness and stiffness delivered the message. And you heard it loud and clear. Your attempts were unwelcome. So you decided to leave. Your time hiding away was running out anyway.

However, as you were getting up, you miscounted your steps, making your long dress tangle with the stall. You expected to fall down and make an embarrassment out of yourself, but the pain never came. You only felt a familiar, strong metal arm wrapping around your waist, catching you. This time, you were so close. You could feel his hot breath on your face. His eyes stare so deeply into your soul. His arm tightened around you. You almost gave up. You prayed your eyes weren't showing it all. But they were. It would explain the confused expression on his face. Your eyes were screaming at him. Sadness wrapped in pleas for help. A complex look. He should have let you go now, but he couldn't. He missed having you in his arms. He missed everything about you.

The call for your name brought you both back. He steadied you to your feet before ripping his arm away. You straightened your posture, regaining your composure after this accidental slip. An immediate smile was drawn on your face as you saw your husband approaching. He came to a stop next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Been looking for you, baby." Your husband spoke as he kissed your cheeks.

"I was getting us a drink." You didn't lie. Usually, you would bring him a drink so he wouldn't get suspicious of your absence.

"Always so considerate." He laid another kiss on the top of your head. Being overly affectionate in public was something you were used to from your husband.

"Ain't I the luckiest guy in the world, Barnes?" He turned to Bucky, who was still standing in front of you.

"Yes, of course." Despite his neutral tone, he meant it. Any man who had you had the biggest blessing. He envied this man with every fibre of his being.

Both men talked about work very briefly. It was a formality. An act to go with the night. It was very well known. Bucky Barnes and Brock Rumlow don't get along. Their mobs weren't on the same page. But for the sake of the bigger picture, both had to learn how to coexist. Temporarily, at least.

"This reminds me. Are you free next week?" The bizarre question caught Bucky off guard.

"I'm throwing a party for our second-year anniversary. Would love it if you could come." Brock pulled you closer to him as you laid your hand on his chest, your smile not breaking for a second.

"I want to celebrate the best day of my life." It's the irony of the world that Brock's best day is Bucky's worst. He still remembers the heart-wrenching feeling of watching you marry another man. The excruciating pain of losing you

He was about to turn down the invitation. But he remembered the look in your eyes. Sheer helplessness and hurt Even if it was for a split second. Even if you looked so happy now. He wasn't going to take his chances. He couldn't turn away from your call for help, even if you didn't voice it.

"I wouldn't miss it." And he didn't. And he never regretted something more.

The party was a blast. A beautiful celebration of love. You and Brock looked so happy. A perfect couple. He wanted his instincts to be right. But only came face-to-face with his worst fear. You were happy with another man. A man that wasn't him. And could never be him.

Between the gala and the party, Bucky tried to look around. See if he could find anything out. To get a glimpse of your life behind the lights. And he got nothing. Only good things. Maybe his longing for you made him misread the signs.

After the wonderful speech Brock gave about you and your marriage, Bucky couldn't take it anymore. He had to leave. And most importantly, he had to let you go.

You barely met again after that day. He avoided even the galas that he would see you at. He needed to move on. He needed to forget you. He needed to let go of the girl who turned his whole being around. even though it was going to crush him. He had to.

He spent more time at work. More than he ever did. He started doing the dirty work again. Something he stopped doing for years. But he needed an outlet for the pain and rage. An escape from the brutal reality.

He knew how pathetic he was being. It's been two years, and he can't let you out of his mind. He tried to see other people. But it would only be physical. He couldn't find it in himself to be vulnerable or emotional with any other woman. Only you managed to tear his walls apart. Only you invaded his being. Sometimes he wishes he had never met you in the first place. The sweet girl sitting in a corner by herself in the over-the-top gala. He knew Alexander Pierce was your father. But he couldn't resist. You took his breath away the moment his eyes landed on you. And when he got to know you, you blew his mind away as well. You were nice, kind, polite, understanding, trusting, smart, and everything good. He had to have you. And he did. He fell head over heels for you. You gave meaning to his life. Bucky was madly and deeply in love with you. He still is.

And by some miracle, you loved him too. You let him have you. He remembers, after your first time together, As he held your exhausted form to his chest, he heard your sleepy voice whispering something he should have expected. "Please, when it's time to leave, let me down slowly." Of course, you would think he was only using you for something. He couldn't blame you. So he made it his mission. He would show you how much you meant to him. How much he loved and cherished you.

So maybe he should have fought for you? Shouldn't have chosen the city's peace and safety over you? Should have risked it all?

But this means nothing now. He had to move on.

Now, he was sitting in his office in his mansion. Sitting on the couch with his drink in hand and Steve and Sam on each side, They were joined by a dear guest. Nick Fury. Nick is a huge part of the mob. He started it off with Pierce at Hydra, but both of them grew too big. Then Pierce showed his true colours. So now he was playing on both sides. And nobody could stop him. A lot tried. But no one succeeded. Nick Fury was too dangerous of a man.

It wasn't a formal meeting. It was just a gathering. It wasn't planned. Nick showed up at Bucky's house. They talked about work for a bit, but the conversation drifted with time. With Steve's girl falling asleep in his lap, they found themselves talking about parenthood. How family and their line of work don't usually go together. However, those who did have families always managed to be the best. However, nothing could have prepared Bucky for the turn the conversation was about to take.

"Not all of them turn out to be good. You've got Pierce, for example. I have never seen a worse father in my life." The mention of the man's name caught Bucky's attention. Pierce definitely didn't win the Father of the Year award, but what does it mean?

"What do you mean?" It seemed Steve was thinking the same way as Bucky.

"That man married off his daughter to a beast and watched as he ate her off." The statement didn't sit well with Bucky.

"What are you talking about?" Bucky couldn't help, but he asked, wanting to know more.

"Alexander knows exactly what Rumlow does to his girl." Nick's answer wasn't enough for Bucky.

"What does he do?" He didn't care how desperate he looked or sounded. He needed to know everything.

"I think the scars on her body speak for themselves." It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. His blood ran cold. His lungs almost stopped working.

"Rumlow hurts his wife?" Sam was one to speak, knowing his best friend wasn't in the right state anymore.

"Hurt doesn't even begin to describe it. Poor girl has been hospitalised ten times in the last two years." His tight grip on the glass almost made it shatter in his hand. They have been doing this to his girl.

"How do you know this?" Steve couldn't help his curiosity.

"I know everything. And Pierce doesn't put much effort into hiding it from those close to him."

"How come nobody else knows?"

"I said only those close to him."

"But they look so happy. He seems to love her."

"Of course they do. Rumlow wants to be seen as a good family man. The perfect husband So they need to be a picture-perfect couple. Not a single flaw. It's easy to paint when you beat somebody that much."

"Why didn't she try to leave?"

"And go where? Her father has no problem with it. I heard that Rumlow slapped her in front of him. And Pierce did nothing."

Bucky was grateful for his bestfriends who kept the questions going because he needed to know everything. But he couldn't speak. Nick seemed to be talking about some stranger he barely knew. And it was true. But not to Bucky. That was you. His whole entire world. And someone was hurting you. And you couldn't do anything. You were helpless. He should have trusted his instincts.

"How bad does it get?" He mastered the neutral tone, so not even Nick would know the fire burning through him.

"I don't know. All I know is if that was my daughter, Rumlow would be dead a long time ago." Instinctively, Steve pulled his daughter closer to him and laid a soft kiss on her head. How can any father not protect his daughter with his life? Steve would never know.

"But the girl is tough. Despite it all, she is still nice and caring to everybody." Nick added. And it somehow hurt Bucky more. For godsake. You even tried to be friendly with him. He, who left you, was a deer in a wolf's den.

"Have you ever met her?" Nick asked, looking at Bucky.

"Only on parties and occasions." He could never tell Nick that you were the love of his life.

Nick stayed for a little longer before he left. And Bucky couldn't recall a single thing after Nick told them the truth. Steve and Sam wanted to stay with their friends, but they knew better. He wanted to be alone right now. And he did. He went upstairs to the master bedroom. He opened a drawer in the side table and looked at a small album he kept hidden from the world. He tried to get rid of it but never had enough courage. It had all your pictures together. This album meant more to him than all of his good fortune.

Looking at the pictures, he felt like he was drowning. They took you away from him, only to hurt you. Bucky didn't know what to do. He must think straight, because if he didn't, he would go over and kill them all right now. It would be a bloodbath. But you were worth it. so worth it.

Before he could make any wise decision, he reached for his phone, dialling the number of the person who would help him.

"Bruce, I need a favour."

Bucky was standing by the bar, watching people talk and laugh in their very expensive attire. It was all so fake that he wanted to throw up. But maybe the act wasn't the only thing bothering him.

Bruce was able to do him the favour he asked for. And he gave it to him today. Your medical reports. All of them.

Bucky was stunned, to say the least. He regretted asking, but he had to know. How could anyone do this to you?

Broken bones. Internal bleeding. Deep Cuts. Concussions. Vaginal bleeding. Three miscarriages.

Bucky couldn't help the tear that fell on his face as he read the last report. It was two months ago. Two weeks before he met you again. A week before the anniversary party. You were recovering from another miscarriage and a broken elbow. Yet nobody could tell. You put on the act to perfection that even Bucky believed. You managed to trick Bucky, who claimed to have known you best. His heart ached to see how much Brock had to beat and break you to fool everybody that you are so happy. Bucky was a strong man who everybody feared, but he had to read how a nobody hurt his girl. Yes, you were his girl. You were always going to be his girl. He needed to figure out a way to get you out of there.

Which is why his eyes never left you since you walked in. It took all his willpower to not go and beat the hell out of Rumlow. But he knew better. All he could was wait and think. He watched your moves and your voice. You were such a good actress. With all you went through, you acted the happiness so well. He wondered how you were really behind closed doors.

He didn't plan to do anything tonight, but the moment offered itself when you walked to the garden alone. He followed you out instantly. Not knowing what to do. But he had to do something.

You were breathing the fresh breeze ear. You needed to a moment of peace, or you would have lost your mind. This morning, Brock lost his temper, and your body was still aching. It wasn't something you hadn't seen before. You mastered the ability to look and act fine by now. You just needed a moment away. You were glad there was a garden so you could enjoy the view of the stars

The familiar voice calling your name made you stop in your place.

"Mr. Barnes." You turned to him with a smile on your face. Even if you were alone, you weren't dropping the formality. Also, it looked like he never wanted you to

"I want to talk to you." He didn't know how he was going to approach the topic, but he had to do something. Say something, at least.

You gave him your full attention. What do both of you have to talk about? And after all these years. You weren't sure if you could even hold a conversation with him.

"Are you okay?" The question caught you off guard. It was a strange question to ask.

"I'm fine, thank you." You tried to keep a smile on your face. You haven't talked in years, and that is what he wanted to say?

"How are you and Brock?" Bucky was a feared mob boss, yet he couldn't get a word out that made sense.

"We are great." You couldn't hide your surprise. The last thing you expected was for you to talk about your relationship. Let alone with Bucky, from all the people in the world.

"Are you sure?" He should have thought about what to say first before he followed you.

"Yes, pretty sure." You weren't really seeing where this conversation was going.

"No, it's not great." Way to go, Bucky. He thought.

"I beg your pardon." Yes, of course, your relationship wasn't great, but that wasn't for Bucky to know.

"I know your relationship isn't that great." Bucky was hoping to get any reaction from you other than your pretty smile.

"I don't think that's for you to judge." You were taken back by his statement. So you went in defence mood.

"No, it's. It's when you aren't safe." You tried not to let your emotions take over your face. He didn't mean it this way, did he?

"I think I would be perfectly safe with my husband." You prayed he didn't catch your lie. You were a good liar by now.

"Does he make you memorise this?" Bucky was frustrated. Not with you. But with your situation.

"Does he tell you to always pretend you are happy?" Bucky was done with your act.

"Mr. Barnes, I don't think we should be talking about my marriage. And you can't talk about my husband like this." You knew you had to be direct and forward. Even if nobody was around, this wasn't a chance you were going to take.

"Do you have anything else you want to talk about?" You received silence, but you could tell he had a lot to say.

You turned to leave because you couldn't stay and have this conversation. Even if you wanted so desperately to stay in Bucky's company.

"How many more hospitalisations will it take for you to admit the truth? How many more babies do you have to lose before you leave?"

You froze in your place. It was like time had stopped. You were trying to process what Bucky just said. Every cell in your body was working overtime to keep you from shutting down. You turned again to look at him with your pale face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like this." Bucky felt guilty for throwing it like this in your face. But he saw you leave, and he had to stop you.

"How do you know?" The question may be irrelevant, but for you, it was important.

"It doesn't matter." Bucky tested the water by taking small, little steps towards you. You didn't move.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that I know." He was itching to hold you. Wrap you in his arms and protect you from the world.

"I'm okay, Bucky." It had been so long since you said his name, but it still felt the same. And you were back on track with your act quicker than you thought.

"No, you aren't. Nobody should ever go through this." He came to a stop in front of you. You saw empathy in his eyes you hadn't seen in a long while.

"Let me help, please." Bucky had no problem getting on his knees and beseeching you to allow him to step in.

"You can't help me." Your voice was tiny. You felt exposed. That part of your life wasn't to be known.

"No, I can. I have to try." Bucky wanted to help you, not just for your sake but for his too.

"No. It's my life now. I'm okay." You knew Brock wasn't going to get a trophy for being the best husband when you married him. However, it got so much worse than you thought.

"Stop saying that. You aren't." Bucky hated the surrender in your eye. The shakiness of your voice. He hated how you were choosing to accept this life when you deserved nothing but the best.

"There is nothing me or anybody could do." You made your peace with this fact long ago. Since Brock first hit you and nobody moved.

"I can. I should have never let you marry him in the first place." He moved even closer to you.

"Then it would have been the both of us, now. Either dead or suffering. I'm okay with it being me." You were. Maybe that is the reason you managed to survive up to now. That Bucky was okay

"You think I'm not suffering this way?" He followed his instincts and placed his flesh hand on your cheeks.

He prepared himself for you to flinch or move away quickly. But you didn't. On the contrary, your face softened. You were craving Bucky's gentle touch. You missed him so much. Bucky took this a sign and let the next words fall from his tongue.

"I still love..."

"Please, don't.

You stopped him right away. Did you still love Bucky? With all your heart and even more. But it was way more complicated than this.

"There nothing you could have done or can do to change it. It's my life, and I can't escape it." He should move on. He shouldn't even be standing with you here.

"I was doomed from the beginning. I'm so sorry I dragged you with me."

You shouldn't have let him love you. You should have heard his name and went the other way. You should have spread him all this pain and mess. If you failed to do it, then you would now. You moved away from, already missing his touch.

"Thank you, Mr Barnes. But I can never leave." You put on the act again, keeping your tears inside. You wished you weren't that helpless or broken, but you were. You were surrounded by monsters that can never let you break away.

You gave Bucky one last smile before you turned to get back inside. You didn't want to anger Brock more. And you didn't want to drag Bucky deeper. Even if your heart longed for him dearly. It wasn't right. You were a tragedy from the start.

[myouiminn]

Shy Hearts

Neville Longbottom x Reader

Notes:don't repost without my permission!

The night was alive with the buzz of the party in the Gryffindor Common Room. Neville Longbottom stood there, enveloped in a mixture of joy and excitement, along with a hint of anxiety. He wasn't the type to stand out in a crowd, but he was determined to make the most of the night.

As he watched fellow students dance and laugh, his eyes met yours, Y/n. You were chatting animatedly with Hermione, and he couldn't help but smile at you. He had always found you incredibly captivating, someone who seemed to radiate light wherever you went.

His heart raced as you finally noticed him and waved enthusiastically. Neville felt a pleasant warmth spread through him as he waved back, trying to appear as confident as possible. He realized it was now or never; he didn't want to let this chance slip away.

Summoning his courage, he left his corner and made his way over to you. The sound of music and laughter almost drowned him out, but he was determined to make himself heard. As he approached, you smiled warmly at him, causing his heart to skip a beat.

"Hey, Neville! So glad you came!" you said, genuinely happy to see him.

He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, the party is amazing. You... you look amazing."

Your smile widened, and you gestured to the dance floor. "Shall we dance?"

Neville eagerly agreed, following you onto the dance floor. As the two of you danced, he began to feel more at ease. Words flowed more freely between you, and he realized he had much more in common with you than he had ever imagined.

You talked about books, potions, and even your hopes and dreams for the future. Neville was falling for not only your outer beauty but also the incredible person you were on the inside. He loved how you laughed at his jokes and encouraged him to open up more about himself.

As the night progressed, the connection between you grew stronger. You saw how kind, thoughtful, and intelligent he was. And Neville admired your confidence and passion for the things you loved. It was a mutual exchange of energy and interest, creating a special bond between the two of you.

When the party was nearing its end, you found yourselves in a quieter corner of the room. Neville looked into your eyes and smiled, feeling grateful for having mustered the courage to approach you.

"Y/n, I wanted to say... I had a really great time tonight. And I'd love to see you again. Maybe we could grab a coffee at the Three Broomsticks sometime?" he asked, nervously.

Your smile transformed into an even brighter one, and you nodded eagerly. "I'd love to, Neville. Can't wait."

And there, on that magical night in the Gryffindor Common Room, Neville discovered that sometimes the best things happen when you take a risk and set aside your shyness. He had found someone who valued him exactly as he was, and he couldn't wait to see what the future held for the two of you.

[bettathanyou]

hii i just wanted to say i really appreciate how much love you put into all of your writings, its all so heartwarming and detailed, and you capture cedrics character SO well. you have such an in depth understanding of his personality and its commendable. i really admire your dedication and love for this guy and how willing you are to share it with others :]

but ya i have a request, a headcanon list (or story/anything u wanna do) of Cedrics autistic behavior and maybe how he would act with an autistic partner? the idea of there being this mutual understanding of each others needs is really sweet to me. also i personally hc him with adhd alongside autism so it would be neat if that could get mixed in somehow, too :D no problem if not!

ANON. WTF YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY FR?? THAT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME, THANK YOU. I get so scared of MISCHARACTERIZING Cedric, so to hear that I have an in depth understanding of him from you made my entire day, month, YEAR. I hope this headcanon list is good and up to expectations!!

AuDHD Cedric The Sorcerer Headcanons (With Autistic S/O)

Coming from someone with AuDHD with an autistic best friend, I can't stress how much source material I have to speak about this sifkdiieis

FIRST THINGS FIRST. SENSORY ISSUES GALOREEEEE. That man will shrivel and die if he were ever in the modern era and came into direct contact with a microfiber towel.

A secret Headcanon I have (outside of the reasons I listed in my first headcanon list about Cedric!) Is he wears gloves BECAUSE Cedric has sensory/texture issues. His potion ingredients seem incredibly bizarre at times, and I'm sure the textures of them just get overwhelming at times. If you're wondering why the fingertips are exposed, he might need the extra grip to handle delicate objects, etc etc.

His robe is basically a weighted blanket, argue with the wall. He needs to be regulated somehow, and he's still a nervous wreck anyways

We know Cedric's speech is affected by his audhd. Dude has pedantic speech, overly emotive or deadpan, his volume control is non-existent when excited.

Expanding on that, his tendency to mix up words for spells seems a little... Neurospicy, on top of the anxiety

Forgets spells constantly. Not actually forget how to do them, just forgetting they exist cuz adhd

Has CHRONICALLY turned his workshop inside out because the thing Cedric was using just disappeared after he set it down!

(it was in his hand the whole time lol)

HC that outside of, yk, lack of personal space because no one knocks except Sofia, Autism rage whenever you're being interrupted from a task, especially something your fixated on, DRIVES HIM SO INSANE

Lack of patience. Just. Irritable, and same

His only friend (before Sofia) was an animal companion. C'mon y'all.

Music is so important to Cedric! It helps him regulate. He sings, he dances, he appreciates the dragon Acapella! Definitely uses music to stim, as well as dancing. He does it way too much. Audhd people usually are very connected to creative outlets such as music

Speaking of, his flying machine? CEDRIC IS AN INVENTOR. SO MANY INVENTORS ARE/WERE NEURODIVERGENT

Cedric is so genuinely shocked by kindness from Sofia even though she's consistent with it. That can definitely be trauma, but also feels like a lack of emotional permanence

Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria SO BADDDDD Cedric would have a shutdown about it (thanks ADHD)

Prone to more shutdowns than meltdowns. But as we know, shutdowns inevitably lead to meltdowns anyways. I hc that Cedric is definitely seen as "melancholic" because his mood shifts as well as masking (poorly) his mental state after having meltdowns in private

Definitely tugs at his hair, bites himself, hits his head/fists on hard surfaces during meltdowns :((

Cedric's job as royal sorcerer is fun for the knowledge as special interest aspect, but the social parts leaves him in bad burnout, at least before his redemption

Still hates the social aspect of his job though

Potions are his special interest

The amulet of avalor was a hyperfixation, there I said it!

Due to trauma, but also to adhd, I think Cedric has no emotional object permanence. Dude for real acts a little TOO shocked towards Sofias kindness-

There is two types of audhd: sarcasm is the only language they're fluent in, and cannot distinguish sarcasm to save their life. Cedric is the first.

Sofia is the second type LMAO

Where's the same outfit everyday. Like. Cedric would buy the same set of clothes/outfits because too many choices are just overwhelming, and too many textures are Bad

Speaking of textures, again

Picky eater

I've never seen Cedric eat anything except those jellybean looking candies at his parents house

Jellybean/sweets as a safe food

I hc personally that Cedric is familiar with food magic because he conjures his own meals. I can't imagine people would respect his needs/wants enough to be especially accommodating, so he did it himself

Cedric talks to children as equals because of the lack of social hierarchy due to autism

However with the royals his age he is desperately trying to please people for the sake of acceptance (mood)

Okay

Rapid fire s/o headcanons!

Y'all either talk for hours, or parallel play without a word

Doing Nothing Together While Vibing Is Essential

Even though y'all understand each other well, sometimes the weird social rules you force yourself to mask with still stick. So sometimes y'all will have to ask "are you mad or are you unmasked rn"

Same thing with sarcasm. Taking jokes too literally so then you gotta ask for clarification. At this point it just adds to the joke xD

Cuddling/hugs is the best because THE DEEP PRESSUREEEEE

But also don't touch me when I need space pls

Infodumping whenever the chances arise

Seeing cedrics eyes sparkle his smile lines crease when talking about something that excited him feels like the warmest ray of sunshine

Cedric will sometimes get distracted by how much he loves you and loves seeimh you being happy while infodumping and will ask you to repeat things while apologizing profusely

Cedric will buy you little comfort objects you like or give you cool things he finds

Pebbling!!!

Sometimes y'all need to sleep alone for the sake of space, but other nights you gotta be in each other's skin

And both are okay!

Laying in bed doing a separate activity until bedtime is a good compromise when one of you doesn't want to spend the night, but still wants time together

Switching hyperfixations

Adopting each other's vocal stims/speech mannerisms

Suddenly you're saying Merlin's mushrooms UNIRONICALLY

When shutdowns happen, y'all have communication cards! Very helpful for both parties :))

You both doodled in the margins of each other's communication cards

Cedric chronically loses his and you now you're just letting him use yours until they manifest again 😭

Meltdowns, Cedric needs to be alone. He just can't handle ANYONE seeing it, even you

You respect that... And take care of him afterwards with whatever he needs

Whatever way you need support during shutdowns/meltdowns, Cedric accommodates without question

Just

So much love and acceptance and CHOOSING to put in the work in your relationship

Anyways, that's all I got! Feel free to add on! TYSM for the ask!! This was so lovely and self indulgent to write lmaooo

[zynart]

the picture of aubrey dorian grayham

i havent seen anyone else say it yet, but i've often felt like drake had the vibe of a real-life dorian gray, even for years before this and even aside from all the allegations. and if today felt like a slashed painting, let's cover what i mean

it's about an almost 40 year old whose entire online presence for years has been culture curation and memes and celebrity shit and partying and womanizing and more partying on instagram and plastic surgery and trendsetting trend following and making music to make tiktok money and memeing with celebrities for instagram

a slightly dorky looking guy who seemed like a somewhat self-aware and kinda soulful enough dude in his early 20s, who got famous making music about love and emotions or heartbreak or whatever that even got him the "sensitive rapper" moniker (whether the image was real or fake all along, what i mean in how he came across in public) who has now spent a decade as this giant star where i cant remember the last time i've seen him do anything that looked like it showed an actual emotion beyond insecurity and pettiness and self-aggrandizement in all that time, especially about love

guy made songs like marvin's room but when's the last time he seems to have had any actual emotions about any women besides just chasing an endless list of women as status symbols and feeling wronged or slighted or threatened by women over petty shit. guy got famous off a song like best i ever had, made "sweatpants, hair tied, chilling with no make-up / that's when you're the prettiest" into a catchphrase people referenced for years. i dont know what his true self was but just like in the story, we're not arguing about whether dorian was rotten from the start, just talking about how it seems

haven't seen him show genuine emotion in years aside from trolling. flaunting wealth, trying to take taken women getting off on the concept of dominance play over other men. it's like someone who cared so much about looking hard and chasing pleasures that, because they thought real love and heartbreak looked weak, decided it was better to lose the capability at all

"enthralled by the hedonistic worldview that sensual fulfillment is the only thing worth pursuing in life... dorian expresses the desire to sell his soul. the wish is granted, and dorian pursues a libertine life of varied amoral experiences while staying young..."

someone whose entire life is vacationing with drinks beautiful settings or clubs or mansions or posing with celebrity women or trolling for memes, shown no actual emotions except pettiness and resentment in years. plastic surgery to look fitter and younger. life that's not lived as much as meticulously crafted and curated for instagram

circling back and seeing its a reverse dorian gray situation. one might think that instagram is the real-life painting, but the drake that we see and know is the drake on instagram, the carefully curated hedonistic party animal billionaire with a parade of celebrity friends and women, ab etchings and pout and photo filters and vacation settings for a look curated to be unchanging, constant, the biggest star on the planet. the drake we dont see, the drake in the attic, is the real drake. the person behind the curation

tbh maybe it's not that deep, it's just. a certain dorian gray feeling is something i've always gotten. this drake is something that in theory can't last, you would've expected any given billionaire playboy to have wound down and found love and settled by this age, there's only so long you can stave off time until you're actually old without a family around you, unless you're dorian gray and you can just keep going. but at some point someone's still stabbing that painting

[pavardscherie]

― what i deserve ;; pablo gavi & pedri gonzalez ;; second snippet

⤷ pairing: pablo gavi x f!reader ;; pedri gonzalez x f!reader ⤷ summary: your relationship with gavi ended after he cheated on you. a year has passed, pedri always checked up on you with small messages until he invited you to one of the home games. somewhere between losing your heart to pedri; gavi still attempts to get you back. ⤷ warnings: curse words ;; injuries ;; mentions of blood ;; hand around throat ;; explicit sex scenes ;; asshole!gavi ;; cheating ;; violence in fights ;; spanking ;; dom & sub ;; dirty talk ;; teasing ;; very deep feelings & conversations ;; slight triangle thing but not most of the time ;; second chances kinda ;; friends to lovers ;; not proofread & probably horrible written kiss scenes lol ⤷ izzy's non-sense talk: I've got so many snippets prepared???? I'm still writing the first part since it's ass-long, but i can't wait for you to see!

Pedri’s hands fit perfectly around your waist, the calloused palms pressing against your hipbone. His chest pressed tightly against your back, swaying from left to right. Loud music boomed through the club, drowning out the conversations and any sounds made by the guests. One of your arms reached over your shoulder, manicured fingernails in a medium coffin shape carefully brushed over Pedri’s neck.

Within seconds, you found one of his weak spots. Grazing the soft skin of his neck with your delicate fingers caused several waves of shivers to travel down his spine. “Don’t do that to me . . .” Pedri whispered, the words only a shallow, warm breath against the shell of your ear. Head dipped down further, his chin found a comfortable place in the sensual curve where the side of your neck connected with your shoulder.

Your answer to his plead was a simple chuckle. Corners of your glossy lips lifted into a wide smile, you glanced down at Pedri. Admiration swirled in the chestnut color of his eyes, the black pupils slightly dilated and a glossy layer above, from the alcoholic mixtures and beers, he drowned over the span of the last hours.

His calloused hands massaged the smooth skin around your waist, and a feeling of comfort spread through your warm body. Pedri always treated you like a princess, the queen you deserved to be in his own words. Your eyes wandered over the people around you, the teammates of Pedri dancing tightly with their significant other, and enjoying the days off after an important win.

A smile crept its way on your lips until your drifting gaze met a pair of deep auburn orbs, staring shamelessly at you and the way, your hips swayed in a perfect rhythm with Pedri’s. From across the room, the little glimpse in his eyes almost looked like guilt. But it was nothing more than the alcohol creating a glossy layer across his squinted eyes. A glass tightly in one hand, the other buried in the front pocket of his black cargo pants — you’ve never see him wearing anything else when jogging pants weren’t allowed.

Gavi’s gaze didn’t move an inch, his eyes glued to the spot where your ass connected with Pedri’s crotch; rubbing against one another while dancing way too close for his taste.

He remembered the nights when you agreed to accompany him to one of the famous parties around Barcelona. How you were pressed tightly against him, and his finger wandered across your body. But Pedri wouldn’t do that. He was much more of a gentleman than Gavi could have ever been.

A genuine man, who wouldn’t let a single touch of his hurt you, while Pablo knew how much you loved his hand around your throat — rough fingertips digging into the side of your neck. But throughout the night, after being forced by his own head to witness the little interactions between Pedri and you, he had to admit, you looked much happier in your current state than you did with him in the last months of your relationship.

Still, it bothered it. Pained him to see you pressed against his best friend, and knowing, Pedri would be the one to take you home for the night.

But in the moment your head turned, and your gaze landed directly on him, catching him staring shamelessly, he forced himself to glance away for at least a second. Sadness overshadowed your expression, your lips fell straight into a frown.

You could have a new chance at happiness with the beautiful man, who had his arms around you, respected your decisions and promised to place the world in your hands. And it felt incredibly right.

But why did the tears fill your eyes? A single drop rolling down your cheek as the heaviness spread through your body. Using your thumb to wipe away the tear quickly before Pedri noticed the sudden lack of energy in your movements; you tore the eyes away from Gavi’s statue. "You think, I can take you home without any intentions?" Pedri's whispered question captured your attention, relieved about the fact that you could focus completely on him again.

"Always the gentleman, huh?" A quiet chuckle escaped your mouth, as your hand on the back of his neck, held him in place. The warm breaths, he exhaled, fanned over your smooth skin, sending shivers down the length of your spine. "You deserve the best gentleman . . ." Pedri's raspy voice vibrated in his chest, the deep vocals coaxed out and blown against your body. "I'm not the best, but I'm trying to get close to it . . ." He confessed his opinion about himself without hesitation, reminding you that even if he seemed to be a better person than Gavi was to you, Pedri still carried a couple of mistakes and wrong decisions from the past on his shoulders.

"You're doing a good job in proving yourself, don't think you needed it in the first place, but whatever you want." You pursed your glossy lips, pressing them against his cheekbone. In Pedri's arms, redemption felt much easier than being on your own.

Days ached, the nights became longer until the sun settled in the sky again, calling for a new morning. "Is that you, accepting my invitation, to my house for the first time after rejecting it at least five times?" Pedri's eyebrows were raised, surprise twisted in the sharp features of his face.

"I can still take it back, Pedro." You raised your hand, pointing one of your slender fingers straight at his face. Lips stretched, an amused smile decorated your facial features. "You already answered, there is no turning back." He chuckled, placing a soft kiss along the side of your neck.

And while the interactions seemed sweet and shared with admiration, Gavi was forced to watch another piece of a romantic story unfold in front of him; losing another part of your heart to Pedri.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

The Prettiest Star

i started writing this last night but finished it today so it’s kind of both Song-fic Saturday and Smutty Sunday for my 250 Followers Writing Event

Song-fic Saturday 🎶 song: The Prettiest Star by David Bowie

pairing: Sirius Black x plus size! reader 

tags / warnings: NSFW (minors do not interact!), smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, oral, p in v (unprotected — use condoms y’all, this is fantasy), fem!reader, plus size! reader, reader insecurities about her weight, body positivity, non-magical au (couldn’t have them just apparating out of the rain, right?)

notes: i’m a huge music fan and love Bowie and have been listening to Aladdin Sane a lot because it’s just had its 50th anniversary, so hence the song inspiration (“The Prettiest Star”)

word count: 8.1k (yike, please enjoy)

“Does this look too tight?” you ask Lily as you look at your reflection in your favourite jumper, tugging it down repeatedly. You’ve never been particularly thin, but you’d gained a noticeable amount recently, and it was increasingly making getting dressed the worst part of your day. “It looks fine, Y/N,” she says, a bit dismissively, then catches herself (and the look on your face), and adds, “Really. You look beautiful. Don’t ever let the scale tell you different,” giving you a warm smile. It was the “right” thing to say, perhaps, and you were grateful for what a sweet friend she always was to you, truly, but it didn’t make you feel any better. And… if you were brutally honest, it kind of annoyed you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, and the feeling made you feel guilty on top of everything else. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong; in fact, she was just genuinely trying to help, or perhaps even just genuine in what she said. But somehow, when it came to any comments on your body — especially specifically about your weight, negative or positive, you grew irritable even more than uncomfortable. You felt as if no one understood the mix of self-consciousness and self-confidence that you felt. As if everyone projected either how they felt about themselves or how they assumed all fat people felt onto you. Worse, you felt that you could never express your true feelings to anyone. Even when you tried, things came out muddled, or things you said were directly contradictory — yet equally true. It couldn’t possibly be that no one else felt contradictory things about themselves, about their bodies, could it? Were you just shit at articulating your feelings, or were your feelings that atypical? 

You opt to keep the jumper on even though it hugged your chest a bit more tightly than usual. A twinge of regret went through you at the thought that usually winter was your favourite time in terms of fashion in general and your wardrobe specifically. You loved your winter clothes and winter aesthetics overall. You really didn’t want to let a little weight gain get in the way of that, but it had a way of making itself known no matter how much you tried to avoid it. 

On cue, it whispers in your head, “You probably only like winter clothes more because they cover more of you. None of those pretty sundresses Lily, Marlene, Mary, or Dorcas wear ever fit you. Not to mention any summer outfit that involves no bra or a visible bralette - not a chance.”  You shake your head at yourself, trying to convince yourself that comfort was a complicated thing, that you didn’t have to overanalyze everything in such an accusatory way.  

You finish getting ready and head to the pub with Lily to meet the others. Remus and James greet you, and James can’t say enough times how lovely Lily looks. It makes you happy for them, two of your best friends so in love, but you can’t help but feel a little funny, a little longing at the lack of those comments ever made about you. 

The thing is, you didn’t dislike yourself. In fact, there were many times you genuinely thought you were beautiful, or that you wouldn’t trade yourself for anyone else. But those thoughts came more easily when you were alone, and not wanting to be anyone else did not include not wanting to be yourself, minus a bit here or there. 

You feel a pair of arms come around your middle from behind you, and there’s no time to be freaked out because you immediately know who it is. It’s like a sixth sense. Sure, you recognize his intoxicating smell, can feel and hear the texture of his characteristic leather jacket, but there’s more to it. Before you even consciously register these things or hear him whisper in your ear, you know it’s him. Sirius. Your best friend in the entire world. “Hello, darling girl,” he greets.  “How is my finest friend on this finest of evenings?” 

“Hi, Siri,” you smile, leaning back into him. “I’m alright; you?” You turn your head up to look at him. “Just alright? Oh, we need to remedy that, love. Urgently.” He looks around a bit, registering your other friends, sharing greetings here and there. “D’you have a drink yet? Let’s go get one, yeah?” he asks, unwinding his arms from his hug but leaving one around your shoulders, where it stays as you walk over to the bar together. 

“You’re good then?” you ask again, giggling a bit - sometimes it was as if you couldn’t help it; his presence made you giddy. “Me? Oh, I’m wonderful. I’ve been having the greatest hair day, which is truly saying something, and now I’m with you,” he squeezes your shoulder a bit, “What else could I possibly ask for?” 

You roll your eyes, your smile never fading, wrap your arm around his waist, and say, “Two rum and cokes, maybe?” You nod toward the bartender. “You always have better luck getting their attention than I do. It’s like they only see the attractive girls, honestly.” 

Comments like these came easily to you when you were around people you trusted. It was strange; they weren’t really intended as self-deprecating. And you weren’t fishing for compliments either, especially not with your closest friends. Part of you wanted to be able to make comments like that freely, to not have to censor your thoughts and feelings when it came to your appearance, thinking that such things really shouldn’t be taboo in the first place, and especially not with people you loved. The other part, well, you weren’t so sure what the other part wanted. 

“You’re attractive,” Sirius responds, matter-of-factly, your heart rushing a little at the sound of it. You knew you had feelings for him, had for ages and had no use in denying it, but there was also the lack of pity in his comment. He never treated you as fragile; his voice never took on the tone of a motivational poster. “Maybe not to everyone,” he adds candidly, “but no one is attractive to everyone. And,” he pauses, looking down at you conspiratorially, “a lot of people have shit taste anyway.” He pauses again, considering you intently. Then something shifts in his expression, and he adds, speaking more quickly than before, “I mean, not everyone likes Bowie, for example. Bowie, Y/N, Bowie. Why should we ever put stock in what other people think if some of those people can’t see - or hear or whatever - beauty when it’s right in front of them?”

You grin but shoot back, “You’re attractive to everyone.”

Raising his eyebrows, looking straight into your eyes, he responds, “Does that include you then?” A careless group of girls bumping into you saves you from having to decide how much of a joking tone to put on your response. You didn’t find Sirius attractive. You found Sirius the most beautiful person you’d ever met, in senses that went far beyond his impeccable hair, his striking grey eyes, his pronounced cheekbones. 

He holds you closer protectively at the jostling crowd, turns to ask for your drinks, and begins absentmindedly stroking your shoulder as he does so. 

“No wonder you always wear this,” he says, pinching your jumper, “It’s so bloody soft.” 

You had no idea he ever remembered or even noticed what you wore. Marlene, sure. Marlene was making a statement every time she stepped out of the house. And her face and body punctuated that statement with a big exclamation mark. But you? You hardly ever got that kind of attention. Maybe a “nice shirt” when you wore a particularly fun pattern, but that was about it. 

You notice him looking at your torso as he says this and swear his eyes linger on your chest. You’re worrying he can tell it’s tighter than usual, so you tug at the hem, but when he looks quickly away, you try not to make too much of it. 

You’re having loads of fun with your friends, swapping stories, sharing shots, occasionally shouting the lyrics to the good songs that come on. You and Sirius — who’s standing next you, his arm perpetually around you, much to the dismay of the many girls and few guys who come flirting — have a habit of turning to each other every time a new song comes on, deciding in unison whether it’s a good or bad one. The very occasional disagreement yields the most fun arguments, always along the lines of “You think this isn’t rubbish? You’re making me question our entire friendship here, love. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” (Sirius) or “Oh, come on.  This sounds exactly like every other song in the genre but mediocre. Not everything has to be original, but it’d be nice if it weren’t typical and trash.” (You) 

Then some new Bowie comes on. And Sirius looks as though he’s just received the greatest news of his life. 

Cold fire, you’ve got everything but cold fire / You will be my rest and peace child, rings out Bowie’s electric voice. “Come dance with me!” Sirius bursts at you, hardly asking, dragging you by the hand to where a few (mostly quite drunk) people were dancing. He’s holding both your hands, and you’re moving together organically, falling into a languid rhythm with each other and the song. By the next line, Sirius is singing along, and as he sings with Bowie, “I moved up to take a place… Near you,” he shuffles closer to you seductively, looking nowhere but into your eyes as he places your hand on his shoulder and moves his own to your hip.

He’s theatrical with every lyric, each of which he knows by heart; “So tired,” he swoons; “It’s the sky that makes you feel tried,” he belts looking up toward the ceiling; “It’s a trick to make you see wide,” his eyes come back to yours, open wide and full of mirth; “It can all but break your heart…,” he steps closer to you again;  “… In pieces,” he swoons again, this time onto your shoulder, leaning on you and holding you close. You’re too busy laughing both with and at him to be able to sing along yourself.

“Staying back in your memory… Are the movies in the past,” he continues, acting less and dancing smoothly with you, spinning you around and catching you close afterward.

He’s staring into your eyes, his face very close to yours as he sings, much more softly now, swaying slowly more than dancing, “How you moved is all it takes… to sing a song of when I loved… the prettiest star.” His hands squeeze you as he says those last three words. 

He gives you another playful spin and goes on, “One day… though it might as well be someday… you and I will rise up all the way… all because of what you are…” Then, for the first time in the whole song, he and Bowie don’t synchronize. As Bowie finishes the line over the speakers, “the prettiest star,” you distinctly hear — and see, since his lips are so close to you after all — Sirius finish, “my prettiest star.” 

The rest of the world has all melted away by this point; all that’s left is Sirius; all you can hear is the song, his voice, your frantic heartbeat in your ears. His hand comes to your face, caressing your cheek then resting there.

You have no idea how to react. Sirius flirted with you often. But Sirius flirted with everyone often. It was just a quirk of his personality. And Sirius touched you often. But it was never this gentle, this intimate. You don’t want to get your hopes up. Because as much as — or perhaps because of how much — you love him, you can’t really believe he’d see you that way. You’ve let yourself entertain the idea many times, sure, even suspected from time to time over the years of your friendship that maybe just maybe your desire was mutual, but ultimately, your fears and doubts — doubled every time a girl half your size who could so easily be on any billboard flirted with Sirius — would win out and push those thoughts and feelings down. 

Your rhythmic swaying, your prolonged eye contact, your bursting heart and muddled mind continued through the end of the song. Though you knew it must have been about a minute and a half, it had felt like hours, time expanded by both bliss and trepidation, by the time the music changed and you broke apart. As you do, Sirius just watches you, as if searching for something. 

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of your jumper when you whisper, “That was fun,” and give him a quick hug, not letting yourself linger and pulling back before his arms were comfortably around you.

You have plans with Sirius the next day, and as you’re getting ready, you can’t help but remember back to his comment on your jumper last night, more worried at your appearance now that you think he noticed it more than you did before. You’re standing in your room in just your underwear stressing out over what to wear. You’ve put on your best bra, the one that does the most to help your figure without being too uncomfortable, and you’ve made a mess of your knickers drawer looking for a clean pair of high-waisted ones. 

There was a time you would’ve avoided looking in the mirror at this stage, but now, you stand in front of it and give yourself a serious look. You suck your stomach in, and pull a bit with your hands on your hips, then let it all go, contemplating the difference. You turn to your profile, admiring the curves of your chest and your arse, but wishing there was less of your thighs immediately after. Arching your back and grabbing your arse, you wonder whether anyone — you close your eyes and admit to yourself: no, not anyone, Sirius — whether Sirius would find this, would find you attractive. As you take a deep breath, you lament how thinking of others’ opinions always made it so much harder to look at yourself with loving eyes. You didn’t hate your body, but your frequent worries that others would brought you down on more days than you wanted to admit. 

You put on your favorite jeans, but as you go to choose a top, you remember one you’d borrowed from Lily a few months ago that had looked good. It was quite loose on her and a bit tight on you, but you each pulled it off differently. You ask her for it, and she happily obliges, but when you put it on, a knot turns in your stomach. It’s way too tight. The pattern is stretched; your boobs look huge; it somehow brings out rather than covers the fat on your sides. Taking it off in a hurry, you have to take another long, calming breath to keep tears of frustration at bay. 

After finally finding something of yours that worked, giving the top back to Lily with a quick “Thanks, but it didn’t look as good as last time,” and giving yourself too many “final” glances in the mirror, you bundle up as you head into the windy afternoon.

You meet Sirius at the record shop near his flat. You see him before he sees you. He’s browsing the racks, and per usual, he looks effortlessly cool and unreasonably attractive. His long fingers are accentuated by his several silver rings as he flips through the records. He pushes his long hair out of his eyes in a careless gesture, and you’re almost angry at how it falls so perfectly he might as well have just spent an hour in front of a mirror. 

You’re approaching him when a cute girl in a hot crop top walks up to him. She steps closer to him than any normal interaction would warrant. “Anything I can help you find, handsome?” she asks, and you wonder whether you’re imagining the twinge of a double meaning in the question. Maybe she’s just a flirty person doing her job. “We have a few special ones in the stock room I could show you…” Nope, not just doing her job. “Thanks, sweetheart, but I’m waiting for someone.” As he looks away from her back toward the records, he catches you in his peripherals. He smiles a beaming smile at you and gestures you over. 

“You’re not going to believe what I found,” he begins enthusiastically. You hug; it lingers, and he squeezes you lovingly. “Mm, you smell nice,” he adds, as if it’s a normal thing to say. Is it a normal thing to say? Maybe it is. Maybe you’re overthinking, especially after the moment you shared last night.

“Thanks, new shampoo. What’d you find?” You look toward the records to ease the tension you were probably creating. 

“Check this out.” If he noticed any awkwardness, he definitely doesn’t show it. He pulls out a record you had recently had a long conversation about. 

“Brilliant!” you react, snatching it from him and turning it over in your hands, reading its contents eagerly. 

He chuckles at you, and if you’d been looking at him instead of the record, you might have seen the accompanying adoring look. 

“I know. It’s our lucky day.” 

You browse around the shop together, chatting easily, both about music and all sorts of random things that came to mind. Talking to Sirius is always easy, always gives you more than the contents of the conversation to hold onto, to fill you up. 

You go to pay, and the girl from earlier is working the till. Sirius goes to the loo, so it’s just you and her when you hand her a couple of records to ring up. 

“Cool choices.” “Thanks.” “Is that your boyfriend?” she asks, nodding behind her toward the toilets. 

“Oh, um,” you stutter. You’re not exactly sure why “no” doesn’t just easily come to your mouth. “I don’t know how you managed it. Lucky bitch,” she half laughs. You’re mortified; you can’t tell for sure, but you think she is trying to be friendly, just in a very strange record-shop-employee, rock and roll kind of way. 

Sirius comes back around, and you hope to hell he hasn’t heard anything. 

“All good, darling?” he asks, putting his arm around you. This wasn’t unusual for him, the nickname, the contact. But you’re already in an uncomfortable headspace, and your first thought is that you hope he isn’t doing it as an act for her benefit. You don’t even know if he’d heard, and your anxiety is taking over anyway. You keep running the woman’s words over in your head. How had she meant it? Did she mean she couldn’t believe you had managed it? As in specific, chubby, you? Or was she just making girly conversation? Would she have said the same to any woman, no matter how attractive, who had come into the shop with Sirius?  

“You alright?” Sirius’s voice breaks you out of your spiraling. You look over at him, and his gaze is gentle but concerned. 

“Yeah, fine, sorry,” you reply quickly. “It’s all good,” he smiles comfortingly at you. 

Once outside the shop, you debate your next move. Normally on weekends when you’d get records, you’d then go eat, then go to his and listen to some of them, sometimes sharing a blunt, sometimes just getting high on the music. 

You’re both looking up into the newly drizzling sky when Sirius says, “How about, we get take-away somewhere close, then just eat at mine? It looks like it’ll get worse soon, but I reckon we can make it before it really starts up.”

“Yeah, great.”

You’ve made it only a few blocks, though, when the rain pours down in sudden torrents. 

“Oh, shit!” he laughingly yells, protecting the records, taking your hand, and sprinting to the nearest protective awning. By the time you make it, you’re both already extremely wet, and the weather is so windy the cover hardly helps in keeping it from getting even worse. 

You’re squeezing as close to the wall as possible, standing chest to chest, the records between you, his arm around your waist, your faces close enough for you to see each individual drop as it travels down his face. His eyes match the sky behind him, and you silently marvel at his beauty. He looks up for a second then is overtaken by heartfelt laughter. 

“Didn’t quite gauge that one right, I guess,” he chuckles. You’re laughing with him when a particularly strong gust blows freezing water forcefully at you, making you gasp and stiffen. 

“Shit,” he laughs. “Let’s make a run for it.” He takes your hand again, and you both jog the few blocks to his flat. 

You’re both still giggly when you step inside, leaving a puddle in the doorway where you stand. You take off your shoes and outer layers, but you’re drenched all the way through. 

“Bloody hell, it’s freezing,” he amusedly complains, stripping down to only his jeans, leaving his clothes in a pile by the door. He hugs himself and rubs his arms, trying to warm up, and you’re glad your soaked demeanour is already such a mess he probably can’t tell how flustered you are by how attractive — and bare — he is. He reaches over to you and rubs your arms like he had been doing his. “Fuck, you’re freezing too. Come to my room, and I’ll lend you something to wear.” Your giddy mood dissipates immediately. There was no way in hell his clothes would fit you. He was obviously leaner than you, and your hips and thighs hadn’t gotten along well with men’s clothes even in your thinnest of states. He’s halfway to his room already, and you’re frozen by the door. “Y/N?” 

You look over. You hope he doesn’t notice your eyes quickly travel his bare torso. “You coming or what?” he keeps on casually. When you get to his room, he’s bringing some towels out of the bathroom and throws you one. You start drying your hair as he rummages in his drawers. “Um,” you start. You sound more nervous than you mean to. He clearly notices because he immediately turns back to look at you to see what’s going on. “What is it?”

 You hate worrying him like this, especially over something so stupid. Why did you always have to make things uncomfortable? Or better yet, why couldn’t you just be a girl who would fit in his clothes. “Hey, what is it?” he repeats, gentler this time, coming over to rest his hands on your shoulders. Your self-deprecating, cruel inner monologue is clearly showing more than you’d hope. “You alright, love?” “Yeah, no, I’m fine, sorry,” you try to laugh it off. “Don’t apologise.” It’s gentle, not scolding. “Just talk to me.” His hands continue rubbing your shoulders lovingly. “Just that I think I’m fine like this is all. Don’t worry about finding stuff for me,” you try. “Don’t be ridiculous; you’ll freeze to death. It’s fine; I don’t mind.” He goes back toward his dresser.

Ugh, how do you say “It’s not about your minding, actually. It’s about my stretching and ruining anything you could possibly lend me” without sounding weird and embarrassing? 

“Thanks. Um, I’m not quite sure anything of yours would fit me though.” “We’ll find something,” he says relaxedly, opening another drawer. “Here, this one is really warm and comfy, and it’ll definitely fit,” he says, tossing you a sweatshirt. You recognize it, have seen him wearing it before. He only ever wore it while lounging at home, and it was quite big on him, so maybe it would be okay. 

“And… uh,” he rummages, “try these. They’re a bit small, but they’re stretchy.” He hands you a pair of sweatpants. You’ve never seen him wear these. They would probably be too big on him. He grabs his towel and some clothes for himself. 

“I’ll go change in the living room. Just come out when you’re ready. Grab whatever you want.” His tone is friendly, at ease. Unlike your feelings. You are freaking out. As soon as he closes the door, you strip down to your knickers, which thankfully aren’t very wet, at top speed, thinking you should hurry in case it takes you time to figure out the clothes. You don’t want to take too long and make things awkward. You towel yourself off and slip on the sweatshirt. It fits fine. It isn’t loose like it is on him, but it doesn’t look too weird. And it is indeed warm and comfy. Now for the more concerning part: you try pulling the pants on, a repeating “please, please, please” playing in your head. Fuck. No luck. They stop a bit above your mid-thigh, and there is no way you’d be able to pull them all the way up. You think of putting your jeans back on, but they are drenched, and it would’ve been like trying to get back into a heavy straight-jacket. You start panicking, unsure what to do, already worrying you are taking too long to come out. You look through his drawers, but all his other bottoms look even smaller. You try just wrapping the towel around your hips, but you look quite strange in the mirror. 

You’re pacing in his room when he knocks. “Y/N? You alright? No rush, really, just making sure everything’s okay?”

You brace yourself, go to the door, and crack it open, hiding your body behind it, just popping your head around. He’s standing there, his wet hair half tied up, a dry t-shirt and sweats on. 

“Um… the sweatpants don’t fit,” you whisper, embarrassed. 

“Oh. Uh, that’s okay. Um, how about…,” he looks around, as if bigger pants would magically materialise somewhere in his living room. “Oh, perfect.” What could possibly be perfect right now? “Your favourite blanket is already on the sofa. How about I turn around, and you can just go get under it, and I’ll hang your trousers on my heater.” 

You nod timidly, the warmth in your cheeks from your embarrassment blazing even hotter at the thought of how sweet he always is to you. 

“Great. Uh, ok,” he chuckles, awkwardly turning around. You scamper to his sofa in your underwear, quickly covering your legs with his big cosy blanket. 

“Ok,” you let out softly. He turns around and looks you over. You can’t tell what’s in his eyes as he does so, but there is an intensity there that you’re not used to. He blinks quickly and gives you a strange, strained smile. He disappears into his room, and you hear him sorting your clothes out to dry. 

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweatshirt when he returns. 

“You alright? Comfortable?” he asks, seemingly back to normal.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, I didn’t meat to, uh, well, sorry I’m a bit difficult,” you reply a bit awkwardly, not knowing what exactly to apologise for but feeling the need to. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. You have nothing to be sorry for. Really. If you’re okay like this, then we’re all good, right?” You can’t help but worry what will happen as soon as you have to get up. Would you wrap the blanket around yourself like a weirdo?  As if reading your thoughts, Sirius goes on playfully, “I’ll wait on you like royalty so you don’t even have to get up.”  You make an odd half laugh, half relieved exhale sound in response, and he just chuckles. “Starting with…” he fast walks over to the door, grabs the bag of records and brings it back over to the sofa, sitting next to you but not getting under the same blanket like he usually does. “Which do you want to listen to first?” he asks, bringing them all out to look at together. 

As soon as you started discussing it, it’s like waking up from a nightmare, realising all is well and returning to a calm normality. You debate and joke, decide on a record, and he gets up to put it on and make some tea, still chatting casually to you throughout. 

When he’s back on the sofa with you, he looks down, smiles, and says, “Looks better on you than on me.” You tug on the sweatshirt self-consciously, smiling shyly at him.  You fall into your easy rhythm, listening, talking, laughing, and before you knew it, the whole record’s played. Sirius gets up, walking toward his collection rather than the small stack of new records on the table. He picks one easily, and puts it on. The quirky piano of Bowie’s “Time” begins, and your heart speeds up. You love this album. So does Sirius. But this isn’t the first track. It’s the first track on the B-side, and the next song after this, you remember, is “The Prettiest Star,” the song you and Sirius danced to just last night. He doesn’t say anything until he’s seated next to you again. “I know we usually listen from the beginning, but the B-side is better on this one, and I didn’t feel like being patient.” His tone is playful, but there’s a heaviness to it. He glances away from you and leans toward the table to take a sip of his tea. 

“What’s your favourite track?” you ask, smiling. You’ve asked him this question innumerable times over the years, but you’ve never been as excited for his answer as this time, and you have a feeling you know what it’ll be. 

“‘The Prettiest Star,’” he replies immediately, looking toward you again. As quickly as he had, he looks away again as he adds, “Because it reminds me of you… even before last night…” After a beat, he ventures a glance toward you, that same searching look from last night taking over his beautiful features.

Unlike last night, you don’t feel panicked — nervous, sure, but more than that, loved. “Last night felt pretty special,” you say. “Yeah?” He seems hopeful. “Yeah, it was.” His voice is serene, like he’s contemplating something utterly peaceful. “It’s funny, though,” you say, and he looks at you, his eyebrow quirked. “It’s really about you, isn’t it? Not me.” You laugh. He looks like he wants to laugh with you, a twinkle in his eye, clearly happy that you are happy, but confusion holds his expression. You explain, “Well, you’re ‘the prettiest star,’ aren’t you? You’re obviously prettier, the prettiest… and the brightest in the night sky in fact… ‘Sirius.’” You say his name with all the love you feel for him.

He leans toward you, taking your hand. He’s smiling, but there’s a sadness to it. 

“You might not be named for a star, but you’re my prettiest star, Y/N.” He looks into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”  His eyes scan your face. “It’s almost too bright to bear sometimes, to be honest, your beauty,” he adds, smiling more vividly now. He brings his other hand to your face, just as he did last night. But this time, his fingertips begin by taking their time tracing your features: your eyebrow first, your nose, your cheekbone, down to your jaw. His thumb grazes your lip, barely touching it but lingering there, before moving to caress you cheek. “You’re so beautiful, my prettiest star,” he repeats, as the song begins in the background. 

“Sirius,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. 

“Darling girl,” he responds, moving closer to you until your foreheads meet. Your nose nuzzles his, and you stay like this for several seconds. You bring your hand to the crook of his neck, and holding him, you lean forward. The song goes silent, the intro ending, the anticipation built, and right as Bowie’s voice comes in, your lips meet. 

Sirius’s hand slips from the side of your face to the back of your head, holding you firmly, leaning into you hungrily. His hand holding yours goes to your waist, pulling you close to him until your chest is flush with his. You wrap your arms around his neck and slip your fingers into his hair. 

He moans into your mouth, and you deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue with yours, breaching into his mouth. He lets you, and as you explore him, he pulls your body until you find yourself kneeling on the sofa in front of him, the blanket fallen to the floor. 

You pull back momentarily, and he stills his movements, watching you, waiting for your cue for what to do next. His eyes are lidded, his pupils blown, his lips parted, but you know that if you sat back down and told him you just wanted to listen to the record, that’s exactly what he’d do. But that’s not what you want. So, you lean forward and pick up your exploration right where you left it. He groans appreciatively and sucks on your tongue in his mouth, before pulling you on top of him. 

You’re straddling him, and you’re so attracted to him you’re drowning in it, but even still, your nerves are there. You feel heavy. Too heavy to be sitting on top of him like this. He keeps his hands on your waist and strokes your back, not venturing any further down, pulling back to look at you. You shift clumsily, trying to put more of your weight on your knees on the sofa, but not being able to without spreading awkwardly wider or ending up lopsided. He holds you firmly, centering you again, hugging you close. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you whisper, trying to explain what he’s already figured out. 

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him before he says, “Trust me, darling, I’m about as far form uncomfortable as a person can be right now.” He squeezes you lovingly, clearly careful to squeeze all of you and not just any specific place, which might make you uncomfortable. “I’ve been going absolutely mental this whole time just knowing you weren’t wearing anything but your knickers under that blanket.” 

“You have?” you ask, surprised, your eyes wide, your voice soft. He giggles again, always adoring, never mocking. “Fuck, how can someone be so adorable and so sexy at the same time?” It baffles you how someone can say the word “sexy” so seriously and not sound silly at all, give it so much confidence that it just sounds so, well, so sexy. He pecks your lips. “You’re going to kill me, woman.” Now you laugh. 

“Oh?” “Mm,” he groans affirmatively as he runs his hands up your sides and back and kisses you ardently. He moves to your jaw, kissing languidly down to your ear, where he nips playfully and sucks on your neck another moment before looking into your eyes again and saying, “Fuck, Y/N, tell me you want this too.” A kiss. “I’m desperate for you.” Another kiss. “But only if you want me too.” Another kiss, longer this time. “I want to make you feel good, darling. Fuck, I can make you feel so so good.” Your hips grind down on his at his words, and he throws his head back in a lustful groan, and his hands squeeze you tightly where they hold you. He recovers, stroking your back again and resting his forehead on yours as he asks, “Can I touch you, Y/N? I’ll stop anytime you say so, but I’m dying to worship you.” You kiss him deeply, holding him close, grinding your hips down again. “I want you to touch me, Siri.” At this, his mouth immediately devours yours, and his hands come down to squeeze your arse. He kneads it roughly, pulling you into him with each motion, inadvertently pushing his hips up a bit each time to meet yours. You feel the hard, evident bulge in his pants underneath you, and it turns you on even more to feel wanted in such a visceral way. There is no missing how much his body wants yours, and that surprises but arouses you to no end.

His hands come down to your thighs, and you gasp and stiffen a bit. He stops but leaves his hand there, stroking you cautiously. 

“Y/N?” He bumps your nose with his. “I…” You peck his lips. “You really don’t mind my body?” you ask, your voice small. 

“Darling,” he breaks a little. “Mind it? I adore it. Can’t you feel what you do to me?” he half jokes, thrusting up into you. You close your eyes and bite your lower lip at the addictive friction. “Y/N. Look at me, love,” he whispers. You do. “I think you are the most gorgeous, sexiest woman in the world. Of course it’s all intertwined with how much I love you, but that just makes it even better. God, you have no idea how much you turn me on.” He kisses you short but hard. “I never want to tell you how to feel, love, but I just wish you knew how beautiful you are, how you are the most beautiful to me.” You kiss him again and become immersed in it fully. Your tongues are dancing with each other, your hips, your hands, moving in tandem with each other, melting into each other in a perfect push and pull. 

His hands slip under his sweatshirt, and he whispers, “Can I?” You don’t hesitate, entrusting yourself to him, and detaching yourself from him only enough for him to slip it over your head. His hands come to your breasts, and you hear him say “fuck” again as he kneads them and keeps kissing you. His hands keep massaging as his mouth moves down your jaw wetly. He takes his time moving down your body, sucking your neck, licking across your sternum, kissing delicately down to between your breasts. He buries his face there and moans, and it’s so hot you pull him to you and scratch his scalp where you’re holding him by his hair. He kisses there again then his fingers move to pinch your nipples. He mixes pulling it with massaging your whole breast with one hand, but the other just grips your tit as his mouth wraps around your nipple. His tongue licks around it a few times before he sucks on it, and his groan is drowned out by your pleasured yell. 

“Fuck, Sirius,” you say, your voice a rasp. 

“Mmm,” he responds, not letting up, switching breasts after sucking a bit harder. Once he’s satisfied (for now) and your nipples are hard and sore, he grips your tits again with his hands and licks into your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, you have the most incredible tits.” He squeezes them. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of taking your shirt off and touching you.” He goes back down and gives each a quick but delicious suck. “Let’s go to my bed, yeah?” You nod heatedly. 

You’re a bit self-conscious as you move to get off of him, more aware of your body beyond the pleasure again though you had been so lost in it just a moment ago you’d forgotten about everything else. Sirius helps you off and up, his hands on your hips, and he pulls you into him as you both stand, making out with you before squeezing your arse as he pulls away to walk to his bedroom. You wrap your arms around yourself  as you walk with him, but when you’re standing in front of the bed, he takes each of your hands in his and kisses you while holding them, bringing his body flush with yours. You break the contact to pull on his shirt, and he eagerly obliges, removing it and tossing it aside. 

He guides you onto the bed, his body following on top of yours, your mouths connected the whole time. You shuffle up the bed then tug his sweats down when you’re settled. He helps you, shimmying out of them. They get caught on one of his ankles, and you both laugh as he curses and contorts awkwardly to pull them all the way off. 

You’re both left only in your underwear as he starts kissing you again, slowly making his way down your body. He spends a lingering amount of time on your tits again as he goes down then keeps kissing down your stomach to the waistband of your knickers. He looks up at you for any hesitation, but you just bite your lip and lift your hips. He smirks in excitement as he pulls your panties off of you. He does it slowly, teasingly, and he licks down your thigh tracing where the fabric passes. Once they’re off, he pushes your knees a bit further apart and starts kissing and licking his way back up. He sucks at the top of your thigh, and it makes a pop as he separates from you. 

Kneeling between your legs, massaging your thighs on either side of him, he says, “You drive me mad, Y/N. You’re so fucking delicious, I could spend eternity between these thighs.” You squirm at his graphic words, already exceptionally strung out. He chuckles lowly down at you and kisses you quickly before adjusting himself with his head between your thighs. 

“Today really is my lucky day,” he says, face lined up with your cunt. “This is the second time I see you drenched today, and I fucking love being the cause of it this time.” Without further ado, he licks a sopping stripe from your entrance up to your clit.  Even this first motion sounds wet. You’re sure you’ve never been so wet in your life. 

Sirius buries his face in your cunt, groaning as he licks into you then sucks on your lips. He goes back and forth between sucking on you and fucking you with his tongue. He keeps playing with you until you’re squirming before bringing his mouth directly to your clit. He’d grazed it as he licked you before now, bumped you with his nose, teasing you, but now he gives it his full attention. He’s licking and sucking, moaning all the while like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever eaten, moving his whole body with the passion of it, and it takes very little more for you to start cumming on his mouth. You make a yelping sound you’ve never made before in your ecstasy, and with your eyes closed, you feel as if the world is a million miles away; all you feel is your body and where it is connected to Sirius’s.  He keeps up his motions and fervor until your pleasured squirming turns into overstimulation squirming. He gives you one last lick and suck then shuffles up your body, kissing it intermittently as he does, until he’s face to face with you, smiling a smile you’ve never seen before. 

“Hello, darling,” he says, clearly satisfied with himself, kissing you.

“Hi,” you sigh, sounding completely fucked out. He giggles at you and kisses you again. 

“Feel good?” 

“Mmhhmm.” You stretch underneath him and languidly wrap your arms around him, licking his lips slowly before kissing him again. 

“Fuck,” he responds. 

“Yes, please.” Your voice is high, blissful. You rut up into him. He chuckles at you and strokes your hairline, kissing your forehead. 

“You want to? You’re alright?” “Of course, Siri. I’m brilliant.” “That you are, my love,” he beams at you then pushes his pants off. “My prettiest star,” he says, as he pecks your lips then your nose then lines himself up with your entrance. 

His eyes penetrate yours as he pushes into you. You moan in unison, and his mouth lingers just above yours, grazing your lips, your foreheads touching, as he slowly pushes deeper and deeper. When he bottoms out, he kisses you eagerly, stroking his tongue into your mouth as his cock ruts deep inside you. Your hands grip his back. His hands come down to your thighs one at a time, squeezing passionately before pushing your legs up and out, wrapping them around his waist. 

Normally, you’d feel self-conscious in this position. Almost bent in half, your stomach protrudes between the two of you. Your thighs are thick at his sides. But the look on his face, the feel of the movements of his body is all love and adoration and ardor. 

He kisses you as he thrusts a bit harder, keeping it slow at first but vigorously punctuating each thrust. One of his hands rests beside you, holding him up, but the other stayed on your leg, stroking your thigh and gripping your arse or hip bruisingly with each forceful motion of his hips.  

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, “You’re fucking perfect.” He thrusts hard, a gentle kiss on your forehead contrasting it seductively, then begins picking up his pace. He rests his face in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking on it as he pounds repeatedly into you. 

You’re gripping him tightly to stay in position, your arms and legs tense around him. You can’t move much, but his movements are enough for the both of you, especially as he brings his knees up a bit to get a new angle. He’s hitting your spot with almost every thrust, and you’re whining in pleasure in time with each. You squeeze hard around him, not just your arms and legs but the soft walls around his cock as well, and he groans animalistically into your skin. His hips stutter in response, but a moment later he’s pounding rhythmically again. 

His breathing gets heavier, his muscles tighter, and with a broken gasp, he shifts sideways a bit to snake his hand between you to where you’re connected. He rubs harshly on your clit, not bothering to start slow, clearly aware he doesn’t have time for that. His hips piston even faster; his hand presses harder, and a few seconds later, you feel fit to burst. You let out a yell as you release around him, the most intense orgasm of your life making you see white stars. 

“Sirius,” you half yell, half sigh. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Fuck, fuck. Where do you want me to?” he rushes out, his hips still moving fast in and out of you. You tighten your legs around him, and clench your cunt, pulling him into you. “Inside, Siri. Cum in me.” His immediate groan sounds strangled as you feel the warmth of him inside you. The words “cold fire” play in your mind. He thrusts a few more times then goes limp on top of you, panting loudly, kissing your neck and cheek between heavy breaths. 

He rolls off but stays close, never fully breaking contact with you, and he wraps his arm around your waist, lightly stroking your back, as you both lie on your sides facing each other. You feel the urge to cover yourself up but resist it, trying to melt into the vulnerability. The utter adoration in his eyes when you look into them helps. 

“I love you,” you whisper. He smiles a smile that makes his stormy eyes shine, leans in, and kisses you tenderly. 

“And I love you,” he says matter-of-factly, his voice smooth and sappy. 

You pause, contemplating, reveling in the joy of the moment but unable to ignore a tug in your stomach. “I’m sorry I was too… I don’t know, scared? to really show you before.”

“Don’t be, darling. I’m sorry I waited so long to really show you too, but I’m even more sorry if I ever made you doubt how much I do, how loved you are.” “You didn’t.” You shake your head then nuzzle his nose with yours. “I just sometimes didn’t understand. It’s confusing, how someone like you can love someone like me so much.” “Darling. It’s the least confusing thing in the world. You’re the most beautiful person I know. In all kinds of ways. And I’ll show you every day you’ll have me; you’ll see it clearly too; I’m sure of it. I’m just worried when you do, you’ll realise the real wonder is you loving me.” He laughs a bit, but you can hear the truth to his concern, his own insecurities surfacing. 

You stroke his cheek, kiss him, and say, “We’ll both keep showing each other then. For always.” His smile is subtle, full of love. 

He nods, kisses you again, pulls you into his body, and, hugging you close, repeats, “For always.” 

P.S. notes: I try to keep my reader character inclusive, and this is a bit more specific than I usually do. I just want to acknowledge that everyone relates to their bodies, especially if they’re bigger, in different ways, and I in no way think of anything I write as a generalized take on being plus sized (or any other experience really). These are just things that I have felt in my life, and it has always meant a lot to me to see and hear stories about bigger characters, both when attention is brought to that specific aspect about them and when it isn’t. So, this is my way of adding to that and to write something for myself in that vein. 

[thetidemice]

Do ya ever think about Andy and Annie's dance during "Rag Dolly" and feel like watching that specific scene on loop AND sorta feeling like doing their little dance with someone at the same time 'cause hhhhh I love it and those sibs a bunch, it's just the somftest and adorablest dance to a likewise comfy song made more so by Andy's singing and I get a genuine burst of serotonin revisiting it (and lowkey that scene/song alone was what got me to watch the musical for the first time a couple years back :> if ya also have knowledge on who animated their dance or any part of Rag Dolly for that matter that'd be cool to learn about too! but I understand if that might end up being a lot to share :0)

AAAH i love love love that sequence so much!! its the cutest dance it has so much character and Andy's voice becoming so gentle and sweet right after singing No Girl's Toy is just the best thing ever. he doesn't even like Babette he's just helping his sister make a good impression.

analysis under the readmore:

what's crazy is looking through this whole book - i'm talking about The Animated Raggedy Ann  & Andy - An Intimate Look at the Art of Animation Its History, Techniques, and Artists by John Canemaker (the linked version has no pictures D-:) - Rag Dolly isn't really mentioned that much, despite being essentially the main theme music.

i would love to tell you more for a fact, but i just can't say for sure who animated it, as a lot of scenes aren't credited individually.

for some songs, like Richard Williams doing No Girl's Toy, Tissa David doing Candy Hearts, Art Babbitt doing Blue, and Emery Hawkins doing Never Get Enough, the artists get a section dedicated to them and the main chunk of animation work they contributed. in the credits of the film, Art Babbitt animates the Camel, Emery Hawkins animates the Greedy, etc etc - they were generally in charge of those character-centric scenes, along with a team of inbetweeners, painters, etc.

there isn't one for Rag Dolly, since it's relatively short and bounces between characters. so basically TAKE ALL OF THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT!!!

the ONLY expertise i have is that 1. ive flipped thru john canemaker's book and 2. i love this movie so much

what i CAN do is make wild guesses ^_^ and this first little verse as Ann fidgets with her dress and apron just SCREAMS Tissa David to me. here's a pose from that sequence side-by-side with one of her famous (and one of my favourite) Raggedy Ann drawings.

here's something she notes about Ann's first action sequence of falling off the chair (she was set to work on candy hearts before anything else, to really get to know the characters):

and here's a fantastically convenient gifset from Rag Dolly. EVERYTHING!!! her hair falling in her face, the movement of the fabric, the wonderful sense of timing. also note the lack of eyelashes, which isnt exclusive to one artist or anything, but does pop up in David's drawings:

now to go on a tangent about an artist who could well have worked on that scene, and whom i wish there was some more info about!!!

"The only thing that Disney never understood is that to animate girls, one must be a girl!" - Tissa David believed (along with pretty much the rest of the team) that herself and Chrystal Russell (whose work is woefully sparse in the book but very much present in the movie) were the best animators of 'little Annie'. she also worked on Fern Gully; you can find her credits under her married name, Chrystal Klabunde! she supported Tissa as the primary actor for Raggedy Ann, and her style appears as this distinctive, adorable, muppet-y look throughout the film. these pics are examples of, if not her own drawings, then her stylistic influence in these scenes:

she's credited as animating the playroom dolls, but you can notice her influence in Annie come through from the beginning ('I Look, and What Do I See?') to the end ('Home') of the whole thing. like i said, the credits are never too specific, but if i had to GUESS, then this looks like her stuff. we also know for a fact she worked on the first song because of this lovely set of drawings in the book!

here's the sweetest photo of Didi Conn (Ann's voice) and Chrystal together with some clean-up sheets of a shot right before Rag Dolly - when Ann introduces herself to Babette, 'my name is Raggedy Ann, and this is my brother, Raggedy Andy,' (i still can't confirm whether they're her drawings but i wouldn't be surprised!):

anyway tl;dr: i have no way of knowing for sure who was in charge of it, and no doubt a whole team of artists were involved, (and i'm in no way trying to discredit anyone if i'm wrong) but my best guess is you can thank Tissa David for the first part, and Chrystal Russell (now Chrystal Klabunde) for their dance together - the animation changes subtley between those shots. i wish i had more artists/resources to look at, or god forbid a full breakdown of that scene, but at this point i would bet money on David's part in Annie's little introduction.

also some final appreciation for this silly slide to the ground that Andy finishes with:

anyway i'm SO sorry for going on such a long rant in response to this lovely ask!! and i'm sorry it took so long! it took so long, in fact, that i was actually accepted into university halfway through writing it the other day! so thank you!

i had so much fun playing amateur detective so double thank you!!! again i'm probably wrong about ALL of this but it was a blast to reread sections of the book and rewatch different bits of the movie to sleuth around for clues. i hope whatever i have come up with is of some interest to you, and i hope someone learned something about the wonderful artists behind this movie :-D

chrystal and raggedy ann ^_^

[sonnetsoncanvas]

Mess it up : pt 2

Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can

Part of the Mess it up series

Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)

Warnings: modern AU, angst, second chance, eventual smut, brothers best friend trope, implied cheating, self-deprecation, happy ending?

Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams

Notes: This is the first time a fic has made its way from my laptop to the internet. So please be kind and do leave your feedback. Happy reading! 

Chapter 2: Every time I get too close, I just go mess it up.

Reader POV

Stepping outside the airport gates, you were hit with an array of smells.

Hot bagels and car exhaust and manhole steams and people shouting and cars honking

Sounds you grew up listening to.

Sounds that used to remind you of home.

But you haven’t considered New York City as your home for a while now. You’ve been living in Boston for the past four years completing law school at Harvard, and chose to stay back during breaks.

The small crammed apartment that you grew up in has been abandoned for years, ever since your mom passed away, and you have no emotional connect whatsoever with the fancy new penthouse your brother had bought to live with his girlfriend in.

To be completely honest however, you stopped considering New York as your home ever since that fateful night when a certain blue eyed man shattered your heart……..

“Peanut!”

You’re snapped out of your reverie by a familiar, over enthusiastic voice. Your brother’s voice.

The world knew him as Steven Grant Rogers, lead guitarist and vocalist of the “Avengers”, one of the most sought-after music producers in the industry and the doting boyfriend of supermodel Natasha Romanoff.

You knew him as Stevie, the elder brother who practically raised you when your single mother had to work two jobs in order to raise her kids, the man who proudly shouts “that’s my baby sister” every time you made an accomplishment, no matter how small, and refused to call you anything but peanut even though you’re a grown woman with a summa cum laude in criminal law from Harvard.

You let him engulf you in a big bear hug until you cannot breathe anymore. he steps back and it never ceases to amaze you how much he’s changed. Gone was the skinny blonde boy of Brooklyn, replaced by more than six feet of muscle and an intimidating beard. Even though the change was gradual, it was massive.

“who are you and where is my human sized brother?” you asked, the same joke you’d cracked ever since he started bulking up. but it still cracks him up.

“That scraggly idiot?  show business ate him up.” Came the reply

“More like he couldn’t handle the pressure of having such a hot girlfriend.” Natasha answered from behind him, an amused smirk on her face and her eyebrows raised in challenge.

“hey what can I say, a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do” your brother drawled, playfully winking at his girl. That was their thing, teasing and taunting and bantering, and yet being equally besotted with each other.

“Nat!” you exclaimed, dropping your bags to hug her, “you didn’t have to come to airport!”

She hugged you with the tenderness and love of an older sister “don’t be ridiculous. I already had to miss your graduation for work. There’s no way in hell I’m missing an opportunity to see you again.”

“I here for an entire week Nat.” you replied fondly as Steve steered you both towards the car. In spite of what you said, you were glad to see Natasha. You’d known her for as long as Steve’s been dating her and immediately liked her and her quick wit. the fact that she genuinely loved and cared about your brother and was supportive of his love for his family and friends made you love her even more.

                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All throughout the ride from the airport your brother kept rambling about all that he’d planned for you while you were in the city, a sure tell of how excited he was to have you here. You turned around to see Nat, grinning at his childlike eagerness and you realised you had missed this, the easy comfort of being home. Of being coddled and pampered by your brother.

It isn’t like you haven’t met Steve since you left home. He tried his best to squeeze a few visits in every other month, but in between your studies and his work, it was a huge task in itself. And even then, it would be for a few hours, an overnight stay tops.

You liked this. This was reason why you were seriously considering moving back to New York, even though the San Francisco job offered you a few more amenities. So that you can see Steve more often. Especially now that your mom is gone and all that you both have left is each other.

“And it’s not just me who’s all excited to have you back Peanut. Bucky has been cleaning the entire damn apartment like a crime scene ever since he heard you’re coming over. He washed the curtains for god’s sake. WHO WASHES CURTAINS?!”

The mention of his name jerked you back to reality. It took you a second to fully understand what Steve was saying, and when you did completely get what he’d said, you were suddenly terrified.

“Wait a sec, why is Bucky cleaning your place?” you ask, hoping that none of your hysteria seeped into your words.

“Cause I already cook and do the dishes, and that sloth hadn’t cleaned in months, it’s like living with an animal. I swear Mrs Barnes would kill us both if she saw how we live…..”

“Hold on Steve, do you and Bucky Live together?”

Steve immediately sensed something was off by the way you addressed him, “Bucky and I have been sharing a place for years Y/N. is something wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong.” You laughed to cover your nervousness and took a moment to collect yourself, a tactic you learnt in law school, and replied calmly, “it’s just that you told me months ago that you and Nat are moving in together and I just assumed you would be living with her.”

“We would have been if the genius here had not objected to the closet in our room. The poor designer has to redo the entire room just to fit in extra space for his beloved sneakers.” Nat interjected with mock annoyance. “If you ask me, I think he’s fibbing intentionally because he isn’t ready to leave his house husband just yet.”

“Well forgive me for thinking that my shoes deserve the same respect as yours. At least they’re comfortable, not some bejewelled instrument of torture…”

You tuned out the rest of the banter, focussing on the chaos in your mind instead. You knew you might see Bucky one time or another during your visit. He’s Steve’s best friend after all, along with his band mate. And even though you weren’t completely ready for that, an evening around him was infinitely more comfortable than sharing a goddamn apartment with him.

All of a sudden, the air in the car wasn’t enough and your head started clouding with thoughts. Thoughts you had kept locked away in some abyss of your brain for far too long. Thoughts that asked questions you couldn’t bring yourself to answer, thoughts that reminded you of moments you couldn’t bear to relive.

You cannot see him again.

It will ruin you, or whatever parts of you you’d salvaged and rebuilt over the years.

You try to convince Steve to let you stay at a hotel, reasoning that you’d already been offered accommodation by the firm at five-star hotel, so why waste that and trouble them, to which you brother gave you his trademark sad puppy eyes. They were fool proof and the bastard knew it. He’d been using it to get his way since childhood.

So here you were, being driven by your obviously oblivious brother to your Ex’s house, who also happened to be his closest friend.

And you have to spend the rest of the week pretending that he wasn’t the only man you had ever loved. That he wasn’t the one who stole all your firsts from you and in return gifted you an eternal heartache.

Like he wasn’t the one who discarded you like a used tissue the minute he hit stardom.

Fuck this is going to be a long week.

Bucky POV

For the life of him, he couldn’t sit still. Which was funny because James Buchanan Barnes, raised in the upper echelons of New York social scene, was taught from his childhood to sit still, to be calm and composed no matter.

But how on Earth was he to retain his composure when his heart was beating faster than Verstappen’s red bull, when his head was buzzing so much he stupidly wondered if was drugged. His stomach was in knots, his anxiety worse than his first sold out concert.

“If it freaks you out so much, just leave man. Tell Steve that you had some shoot, hell, tell him anything. But get your shit together before he figures out.” Sam, another one of his bandmates and his closest friend after Steve, offered his sage advice. “More importantly,” he sipped his beer, “Before she figures out.”

Sam was probably the only person whom Bucky had told about your relationship. He would’ve hid it from him as well if he had a choice, but Samuel Thomas Wilson was no fool. He had already noticed the lingering glances, the prolonged touches, the swapped sweatshirts. It was a good thing though because younger Bucky had felt relieved to let at least someone in on his secret, some one who could cover for him.

It was a good thing because older Bucky had someone to confide in and talk about you.

“Do you take Steve for an idiot? He knows my schedule; we share the same manager for god’s sake. He would smell my bullshit from miles away.” Bucky countered.

“Still better than him suspecting that the awkwardness between Y/N and you is because, well I don’t know, maybe the fact that you dumped her ? ” Sam chuckled.

“I’m glad you find my pain amusing you son of a bitch.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be awkward.” Bucky said after a while, hopefully. “I mean it’s been so long, too long even. We’ve both dated other people. It would be fine, if not like the old times.”

“Correction, YOU have dated other people. She, from what I know, hasn’t dated anyone after you.” Sam said, rummaging through the fridge for something to eat.

Even though the thought of you dating someone else, to give them your smile, your love, your body, filled bucky with dread, he still asked, “ And you know this how ?”

“Cause she told me.”

“You talk to her?!” He couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, now and again. You weren’t the only guy who fancied her shithead.” Sam said, merely to get a rise out of him

And he got what he wanted, a low growl and a threatening look from his best friend. Still he continued, unbothered and unafraid, “See, THIS is what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. You still have feelings for her. Do you seriously think you can live in the same place as her without doing something stupid? without Steve noticing? “

Just then the front door opened, killing Bucky’s scathing reply in his throat. Steve entered first, lugging a couple of bags, his head turned backwards, saying something to Nat, who entered next.

And then his heart stopped.

And it started beating again.

Faster. Crazier.

His eyes fell on the one person they’d craved for years, drinking in every detail, in all its glory. And your eyes found his.

And in that moment Bucky learnt what it was to be killed and reborn.

[notyouraryang0dd3ss]

Having a #1 Song doesn't mean SHIT anymore! It doesn't mean the song is a hit.

Let's be so serious rn. Nobody knows any of her damn fault track that keep charting. I asked my mom to name one song of hers and she could name "Shake it off."

Smooth Criminal went #7 in the US.

Remember the Time went #3 in the US.

Heal the World went #27 in the US.

They don't care about us #30 in the US. But it still went viral on tiktok. A song that is almost 30 years old!!

Thriller the song also never went to number one, but ask people to name one Halloween song they gonna name that song.

And what is more impressive, having 1M EAS the first day or still selling 1M EAS 15 years after your passed and more than 20 years after you dropped an album. Longevity is quality. 1M first day sales she's gonna sell that much for years. Hell, she be lucky if she even sold 50k in a year in 30 years.

5 music videos of his that are made in the 80's and 90's are about to have 1 billion views this year.

Billie Jean still gets 1M daily streams on Spotify.

I'm sorry if you aren't an Mjfan and I bring him up but he's the best example I can give you also because Swifties keep comparing her to him.

If people don't like the song they won't keep listening to it. And if Taylors song just stay in her fanbase and they just massstream her shit. Nobody is gonna know this song in 20 years.

Because what is the last hit Taylor Swift had that was known to the general public? Anti Hero maybe? Cruel Summer?

And something that is also funny is that, Remember when her drunk self got on stage and snatched the grammy from Celine Dion and didn't even look at her.

And people were pissed and her team was quick on working getting a picture with her to mend the damage.

Celine Dion has 5 Grammys and Taylor Swift has 14.

But they knew that Celine Dion got more respect from the GP then Taylor will ever have. And that is something you cannot buy. And they know if someone wins out of pure talent or just because of favourism. And let's be real. Most people know these award shows are rigged and they don't care about it.

Like when RollingStone came out with that fuck ass best singers list that put Taylor at #102 and excluded Celine Dion. People were mad that Celine was included but Taylor was.

Or just recently they also called her the better Adele. Nobody from the GP was like oh yeah that is true.

I mean they can try to name her the Queen of Pop in one of the award shows alà Michael Jackson style, but it's not gonna work with her. When he got that name people actually agreed and they still do. Outside Taylors cult nobody will agree with that.

Taylor's Team is aggressive with the Marketing and pushing these numbers onto us because they know outside of it she has nothing to offer. Her talent isn't marketable. Her singing and dancing isn't that impressive. The most marketable things about her career are her wealth and business success. Have they ever talked about her performance while she is on tour. What is so impressive what she does on stage? No they just keep talking about the money she makes.

No I completely get why MJ is a relevant comparison here. Swifties do keep comparing TS to him and for that alone they need to collectively get their asses beat. But you used good examples and I just want to applaud you for that

& you’re right, I can’t name a single vault track. Every time I’m exposed to her its against my will through my recommended (and its usually so out of place too because i watch really weird video essays).

Charts truly don’t reflect cultural impact because Drunk in Love by Beyoncé never went #1 and neither did Toxic by Britney Spears but both are super well known. Anti Hero is probably the last single to go #1 but I genuinely felt harassed by that song 😭 its sooooooooo bad

Yes! The vocal trinity—Celine Dion, Mariah Carey, and Whitney Houston—have done SO MUCH for music and all have less than half of Taylor Swift’s amount of Grammys. Celine and Mariah each have 5 and Whitney has 6.

I didn’t watch the Grammys this year (forgot to) but I heard about the Celine Dion incident I was SHOCKED because the audacity of this woman! Her entitlement shows in everything she does and she’s really starting to believe her commercial success makes her a better artist.

THE ROLLING STONE LIST WAS BULLSHIT. THEY DIDN’T INCLUDE JENNIFER HUDSON EITHER! Their definition of a “singer” was soooooooo bullshit too like that magazine’s merit has gone down so much in the past 20 years it should be regarded with way less status and credibility. And who tf called TS better than ADELE?

You’re right, her moniker will be chosen by the general public (probably from a viral tweet/tiktok/etc).

And she needs aggressive marketing because she really is a below average musician in all respects! She has her songwriting but she should’ve just been a hit songwriter (like Estelle Dean) not a singer. What makes her marketable is very “ordinary” image—which makes her relatable to “every girl, like me and you” 🙄 her soft voice really creates an intimate atmosphere especially with her vulnerable (but superficial) lyrics. She has to be friends with her fans for her success to work. Because there is no way you can justify her being regarded as a “god” the way people do with Beyoncé and MJ otherwise.

🎯 with the Eras Tour coverage. No one ever references or cites a particular jaw dropping vocal performance or dance number. It’s always the amount of wealth she’s generating.

[femboty2k]

WOAGH I got tagged by @elliegoose to do a thingy!

now the tag game was to introduce yourself with:

one tv show

one movie

one album

one video game

I, however, liked that they did two and I am ALSO cute and get to do whatever I want so im gonna do two, too.

TV shows: The Venture Bros. and Hilda

talk about opposite ends of the spectrum, eh? Now Venture Bros. will always come with an asterisk, that being that it's an Adult Swim show that was created in the early 2000s by two white guys. Its comedy, especially in earlier seasons, can be unsavory. I'm a big believer in things being imperfect though. Not every show can live up to every standard, and sometimes you just need to roll your eyes at jokes that were made 10-20 years ago. If you can get past that what you get is an excellent and genuinely fun world full of Spyfi and Superhero parodies with a good story to boot.

Hilda, on the other hand, is a show for younger audiences based on a kids book series that largely has to do with various pieces of Scandinavian folklore. I've watched Hilda all the way through twice, once on my own as it was coming out and then once with my wife, and its just so so so lovely. The colour tones of red blue yellow and white, the delightful music, the adorable cast of characters and creatures, its such a good time. One of the best cozy up and just vibe it out shows imo. In my top 5 for sure.

Movies: Everything, Everywhere, All at once and Wolf Children.

What hasn't been said about EEAAO? It won awards that it damn well deserved, its got a perfect cast, it makes me cry every time I watch it. A compelling story about family and change, and the monumental difficulties that can come with them, as well as how different people survive hardships in their life, all wrapped up in the most batshit thing you've ever seen. Clair De Lune, THE SONG I GOT MY NAME FROM, is the main theme and it makes me tear up every time. In every universe, I would love to do laundry and taxes with you, and watch this movie.

Wolf Children isn't far off from that vein. I consider it to be Studio Chizu's magnum opus and I don't say that lightly. From the presentation and voice cast to the music and gorgeous art used in the movie, not even to MENTION how good the story about family, change, growing up, and letting go is, if you don't cry in the first 30 mins you should evaluate your emotional status. This movie means so much to me, its such a gorgeous story, and more people should know about it. Studio Chizu doesn't have a single miss in my opinion, just lesser and greater movies. Wolf Children is hands down the greatest.

Albums: Get Lonely by The Mountain Goats and No Dogs Allowed by Sidney Gish

What??? Clair's top two isn't DnB or something techno related???? Nah dog, I get sad a lot and have a thing for poetry. Get lonely was an album I listened to in some of the worst years of my adult life. I was 20 living with my family who made me miserable in a state that was (and still is) trying to get rid of people like me, and I had very little things that were mine. Walking around downtown Bartow, Florida, in the two weeks of winter that hell state gets while listening to John Darniel sing about soft agonies while watching my breath dissipate into the air? That was mine, and it always will be. TMG in general is I think my favourite band. The poetry on display in every one of their songs is just, too beautiful for my dumb ass to put in any meaningful way.

No Dogs Allowed was an album I listened to while working a midnight shift job I hated while also living with my family. Its an upbeat, quirky, kind of melancholy romp with songs that bring me back to driving from Bartow to Lakeland hoping I could stop myself from either killing myself or fucking up my friendships, whichever came first. Spoiler alert, I'm still alive. It also reminds me of the last big thing I ever did with my sibling before I left Florida for good, which was go to the Tampa Bay Aquarium with them. Several songs from the album were on the playlist I made for us, and hearing them always makes me want to shoot them a message to see if they're doing okay.

Video Games: Night in the woods and Final Fantasy XIV Online

Night in the woods is very, very near and dear to my heart. I honestly don't know what to say. If you've played it you know how good it is. How well written the story of Mae and her mental health crisis is. How it goes over things like poverty and trying to get by/make a better life. Family struggles that they don't talk to you about, small hometown decay that seeps into your every memory until the place you grew up in looks like a collection of distorted rotting shapes. I play it once a year in the fall, and each time I do its like seeing an old friend again. At the end of everything, hold onto everything.

Final Fantasy XIV Online is a game you can play with your friends. I could go on and on and on about how I have 1300 hours in this game and how I met some good friends on it, and how important it is to me as a piece of writing and a community and an experience. But we'd be here all day. FFXIV was there for me in some very tough times. I met new people, I grew distant from others, I have regrets and joys that I still carry with me. If you can get into it with the right people, the game really is something special. Its something to be shared, its a bustling community with all the edges that come with that, its a world where you can be a 7ft. tall elf with green eyes and white hair, and its a part of me.

As for who I wanna tag: @problematicmilf , @ninefoldrin , @baphomets-hairy-bonkhonagahoogs , @mobileleprechaun , and anyone who sees this and wants to do it too. This was fun! Hope I don't seem too lame lol.

[samarecharm]

geniunely not trying to put words in ur mouth im geniunely asking: what do you actually like about persona 5? from all ur rants im just wondering why you didnt drop the game bc it seems (again, im not trying to put words in ur mouth) that it simply not for you? i geniunely have not felt any of the issues you bring up outside of the writing ones and i cannot tell if i'm just easily pleased and not good at discerning what a good game is or we simply have dif things we enjoy in a video game. i hate getting tone across text but im asking out of geniune curiosity im not trying to attack your opinion (;-;)

Nah, i dont feel like ur attacking me, and I hope u dont feel the same when u see my complaints! Lmao. In my defense, I am replaying the game for the first time after completing my first file back in 2020, so alot of the faults i kinda shrugged off in my first playthrough are now glaringly in my face now that I no longer have the confusion and interest in learning the main story to keep me occupied. The game is clunky all the way through, and at some times, even frustratingly so.

But despite that, i do like this game. Alot! Its probably one of my top games ever if im being honest!

This ended up way longer than I intended, so im putting it under a readmore to keep the post short on dashboards

If i had to describe what I liked about the game in the simplest way imaginable…I think I would say, I like how the game makes me feel :) I like the music. I like the vibe. I like the immersion from city to city, and I like the premise! I like the characters and I like the connections you make with these characters! As im replaying this game, i am most excited to see Akira and his comments about the world :) i like hearing everyones voices, I like their little interactions in Mementos, and I like seeing them fight!

P5 is the first game I played in the series; its the game that introduced me to SMT in the first place! And it (smt) is a series that my longtime best friend LOVES and never thought hed be able to share with me! It is a game i keep very near to my heart; it has influenced me in ways i did not think would happen in the short couple of years since i first finished it. It genuinely keeps me awake some nights thinking about the world this game has created, and I think that is a testament to the impact its had, be it good or bad.

The joke about wishing theyd make a persona game that was Good is that despite all of its numerous flaws, the games manage to snatch your attention and pull you in anyway. Imagine if they made a game that had all of those things that i mentioned I loved, but done Right and executed Properly?? Where I got to have a story that made sense and didnt need to be spoonfed to me (in like an HOUR of dialogue and scenes; an HOUR!), and characters that talked and bonded beyond the tiny snippets of interaction theyre allowed to have in mementos? Combat that let me use PERSONAS i liked instead of BUILDS that stop me from getting instakilled throughout the entirety of the endgame, and a Persona building mechanic that didnt feel like I was shooting in the dark looking for possible fusions that end up not even being useful in the endgame.

Ive mentioned it before, but I complain so much bc I have seen what a good p5 game looks like, and its Strikers almost to a T. Combat is still your typical warriors-esque style combat, but it is at least different from the turn based strategy of the main game. Characters talk to each other freely, they hang out and comfort each other in a way that feels more connected that the base game. Strikers implements the ability to see ALL possible fusions with ALL registered personas, not just the ones in your Stock, so you can fuse easily without having yo consult a guide. The story feels like it makes SENSE with antagonists that feel morally grey and sympathetic. Genuinely, alot of the complaints for p5 I had were almost immediately rectified in this game.

But please also know that the praises I sing for this game is only bc of the groundwork laid by p5 and the world it created. Thats what I like about this game, that it had such a captivating premise and cast of characters, that a DIFFERENT company was able to hit the ground running with them. P5 had alot happening in that game, but i think what it had most was potential. The effort put into this game is astronomical, and the possible connections you can outright MISS if u arent paying attention was worth the money and time to implement; even if it meant that it could be considered a waste of resources to higher ups.

Books and games and part time jobs???!! Silly little cutscenes that add nothing to the game PLOTwise, but define and flesh out the personality of your protagonist. There was alot of love put into this game, and its evident by the fact that we have NOT seen a new persona game released; they bank on existing titles bc they are unwilling to make a game like this from scratch again. They dont want to ‘waste’ resources on good voice acting and a complex, overarching story; they dont want to waste money on scenes a player may never see, on routes a player may never get to experience. Making a game that gives u even the slightest bit of freedom means more money in programming and detailing that freedom. This has been an issue for a WHILE, and its a miracle that the gaming landscape had space for a colossal title like p5!

I complain bc I want better, and I do not think that is inherently at odds with my love of this game. In b4 im told to get good; ive played on hard and tested out merciless (its NOT fun, im making godbuilds again and its boring 😞). Its not the most accessible turnbased rpg; theres no colorblind modes, and the affinity system is convoluted and overwhelming. Combo moves are hard to keep track of and it can be incredibly frustrating to see your turns being skipped or seeing characters take extreme technical damage without understanding WHY it happened. The fact that they KNEW the game was desperate for qol improvements by the time royal came out, and instead of updating the base game to have those improvements too, they just pushed the royal edition out for people to play instead. It sucks! Customers and fans deserve better than being forced to shell out money for a game they already played !

As the gaming climate gets more and more hostile and unbearable, I think it is good to look at your games critically, and understand why products come out subpar. Persona 5 is a fun game that has a nice cast and an interesting premise, but it is ultimately tied down by its refusal to build on existing building blocks regarding its combat, and it insists on having insulting and downright out of character dialogue and scenes to appease the audience its designed to be targeted to. It is easy to forget sometimes that queer ppl are infact NOT the prime target of these games, its cishet gamer bros from aged 16 to 40 who will laugh at homophobic comments, who drool over a 16 yr old girl with a 16 yr old mindset and a grown womans body, who need to be placated with constant sexual comments to deal with a convoluted story that will inevitably make zero sense until its laid out for you before the literal end of the game.

Its bad. Its good. Its so shallow and its unbelievable that they thought having the plot twist make ZERO sense until they showed CUTSCENES of YOUR character discussing Goro and his connections to the metaverse for endgame SHOCK VALUE was more important than just having your team be smart and piece it together over time. Its shit. Its literally amazing. It let you FUCK your teacher ??????????????what the FUCK. They also let me shoot a god in the face w the best looking ult persona in the world so i can ignore that shit. And ultimately that is how i got through the game. Lol.

[xtcz]

hi, new ish xtc fan here .. was wondering if you know thr best places to find like the most niche info about them? if that makes sense LOL theyve just been scratching the brain so good and ive read song stories but i want More .. hope its not weird to ask you this :[

it’s never weird to learn about xtc…….

erm for some photos and song notes and interview transcripts chalkhills.org is my best best friend. they’re an old style fansite with tons of archived stuff, they also have tons of xtc guitar tabs 😁😁 optimismsflames.com is another old fansite i look for stuff on, they’re a little harder to navigate but still have a boatload of stuff up. those are places i go when i have a specific thing in mind mainly; a specific image i’m searching for or someone’s thoughts on a particular song. but they’re good to just browse too i’ve spent many an hour that way

they only have one traditional biography, chalkhills and children, written by chris twomey. it’s kind of surface level but also a really fun read for weird little stories & quotes. this book is a really good example of how xtc were not the average rock band in terms of drinking sex drugs etc but what they had going on was Considerably More Insane for other reasons mainly they are collectively 5 of the little fucked up freaks of all time

complicated game is another song book which you may not get much out of if you’ve already read song stories, but i think it’s a little more complete. i’ve heard a couple fans say that out of all the xtc books, complicated game is the best & has great insight into the music, specifically for musicians but for anyone 😁

gonna also link some documentaries and specials i loveee all free on youtube:

this is pop— documentary that came out in 2017. the only documentary ever made about xtc. corny and very low budget but soo lovingly made and genuinely so good if you love them. fits the tone of the band well. i’ve seen it so many times

xtc at the manor— tv special filmed while xtc were at the manor studios for single work for black sea, following the recording and mixing of an alternate for the generals and majors single. they all talk about their instruments and how they chose music as a pursuit, also day to day footage in and around the studio. this one is my utter beloved

xtc play at home— (in three parts, 1 2 3) a special from 1984, xtc talk about their music as well as their hobbies. there are also some very low budget and hard to find music videos for some of the songs off mummer. dave talks about his guitars. andy talks about his board games. colin talks about Fishing. i love this one

recording nonsuch at chipping norton studios— this is a 50 minute home movie type special following the rehearsal and recording of nonsuch. i’ve seen this one through less times than the other two i linked because nonsuch is erm. my least favourite of their discs sorryyyy but it’s still a really good watch and i know a lot of folks love nonsuch

dm me if you want interview links too or anything, i tried to keep this list to longer video stuff but they have so many good interviews too

ultimately i don’t know if any of this stuff is niche. it’s all out there free online. the path you take with your poking around and research is yours :^) but i do think there’s great stuff in everything here and hopefully you’ll find something that suits your fancy

[commander-gloryforge]

okay after playing for a healthy and normal 10 hours finishing act one, here are my thoughts.

QQWWWWWWWWWWAAAAARRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHH YYEAAAAAASSASS S WWEWEWEEWWWW AYYYWEEEAEEDEDDSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSA WOOOOOOOOOOOOIHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

okay . god. okAY. fuck. okay. so. i dont even know where to start im enjoying myself so much here its crazy. like im having such a good time genuinely holy shit.

THE MUSIC. fucuukkkkk god the music. okay it has a lot of that one instrument that i cant name but its a very specific sound that they used a lot in ibs too and i genuinely love that sound. god. FUCK. the music is so good. i think i already have a fave track but im not gonna name it just yet bUT FUCK ITS SO GOOD. i think im gonna have to get that one on vinyl when they release it. GOD.

also voice acting? HELLO???? insane job done by the kodan ESPECIALLY poised arrow, he's AMAZING. and the uh. The Big Bad Guy we fight at the end of chapter 5. uhm. hello. the voice. hello sir. hey. hiiiiii.

the map. ive only seen the first so far but by god this is my favoruite place ever in the world. i really love how peaceful that place is, but how alive it feels. theres events everywhere, the hearts are wonderfully done, it LOOKS just simply beautiful. its so much fun to explore and run around in and just do nothing but sit there and listen to the kodan talk. this is genuinely the best of. all worlds? like its HUGE but never feels empty, its fun to explore but easy to get through, its diverse and beautiful and alive, it feels like a core map but BETTER. the adventures are fun, I GOT TURNED INTO A FISH, the events are lovely, i want to eat this map.

warclaw??? actually feels good to use????? genuinely love how it feels now, actually kind of prefer it over raptor/jackal. i only have the first mastery on it because im focusing on homestead mastery but omg the jumping abilities are so fun and i cant wait to level the mastery more... the skin you get is so cute and i might genuinely use warclaw so much more now. its abilities are actually kinda fun to use too

SPEAR. i didnt get to test spears out a lot but i can confidently say that I LOVE GUARDIAN SPEAR i switched auroras build and now story fights are actually fun. have not tested it with any other class but its GOOD.

characters. i cant say so much about the story itself yet but it does feel so much better than soto just because of the characters alone. instead of being thrown into some brand new mess with a bunch of characters we dont know that quickly become irrelevant, we actually have known faces by our side- like properly. caithe and malice are are GREAT companions for this, i love the tyrian alliance (despite being a jennah hater) because we keep coming back to these characters we've known, it doesnt feel like all the relationships weve made have been cast aside anymore. HELL WE EVEN GET CHARACTERS THAT WERE MISSING SINCE IBS BACK! even if its just for a short time, THEYRE THERE, WE GET TO CHECK IN WITH THEM! THATS GREAT! and even with all the new characters, they dont feel as overwhelming, they just feel.. good? its just good. its just right.

and theres so much more to say but its 5:30am right now and i need to wrap this up.

god. okay its easy to please me. take everything i say with a grain of salt. i am very easily impressed and excited, ESPECIALLY when it comes to gw2, but it really does feel like theyre figuring it out. it feels like anet really did listen to us, and learned from soto, and things are going well. im so happy. i love this so much. AAAAAAAH

[anna-thesimp]

My love is mine all mine: Valentines day special (Late!)

Valentines Day was today and lots of couples came into the bistro. Vince put out a special for today and it was about the only thing sold that day. Once the bistro closed Vince was making sure everything was put in place.

  "Doing anything special today?" Rody was still here whichever shock Vincent but his expression didn't change.

  "No I'm not, you doing anything?" Vince was genuinely curious, but the tone and his face expression said otherwise.

  "I would, but my girl isn't picking up the phone, so I won't today." Vine thought for a second, but his words spilled out his mouth before realizing it.

  "Come over to my place for Valentines day."

  "What?" Vince tried to come up with something to cover up his awkwardness. Thank God his face was turned away from Rody, a splash of was on his cheeks.

  "This day isn't the best day be alone, and its your birthday, so come over to my place." Hopefully Rody didn't notice the nervousness in Vince's voice.

  "Sure what time?"

  "7 sharp."

  "Got it seen you then!" Rody's smiled left the building, pink was slapped back on Vince's cheek.

  Get yourself together Vincent you shouldn't act like this!

  He then left to go to his apartment.

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

6:59. Vince wore an all black outfit, his hair looked slicked back. Then a knocked on his door, Vince went to open it and there was Rody, he looked out of breath, and wearing his casual outfit.

  "Did...I....make....it?" Vince looked at the time.

7 o'clock

  "Barley, Idiot, get inside." Rody step in and shut the door behind him.

  "I made some meatloaf, if you want anything." Vince nod his head to the meatloaf on the counter. Rody passed on it.

The two sat in awkward silence.

  "What do you usually do on your birthday?" Vince tried to break the awkwardness.

  "I would go out with my girlfriend for dinner and just talk with her." Vince face looked a little pissed.

  "Anything else?"

  "Oh! We dance! Have you ever danced Vince?" Rody's question answered with a head shake, there was a sad look on the gingers face.

Rody got up and looked around the apartment and saw a record player and looked at the Albums.

  "Do you mind?"

  "Not at all." Vince poured a glass of wine. Rody grab and album and carefully pulled out the record and set it carefully on the player. Then her put the little hand on the record as music plays.

(Play song here)

Rody walks over to Vince and put his hand out.

  "May I?" Vince felt the blood rush to his cheeks but it didn't appear that much. Putting his glass down and took Rody's hand..it felt warm as the sun, Vince's hand felt cold and freezing.

  "I'll take the lead in this one ok?" One hand was in Vince's, others on Vince's hip. Vince's hand was on Rody's shoulder. They started doing a waltz as Rody leads Vince's body.

"One-two-three, one-two-three," Rody counts in his head. The two were barely touching the ground at this point. Vince was shocked how good Rody was at dancing. Out of nowhere Rody Spins Vince's body like it was nothing Rody's laughter filled the air.

Baster. Vince had a smile on his face as he was drop to the ground again, clearly dizzy Rody held onto Vince, their faces where inches apart.

  "You good?" Rody double checks on Vince just to make sure he was ok.

  "Promise not to quit after I do this."

  "What?"

Cold lips found a pair of warm lips.

If it wasn't perfect nothing was at that moment. Vince hand cuped Rody's cheek as they pressed their lips against eachother. Unexpected Rody was push back into the couch a small chuckle left Rody's lips.

  "Do you wanna continue?" Vince immediately placed his Lips back on Rody's for a moment...Nothing matter.

After a few minutes they released eachother from their arms. Sitting back up in the couch Rody and Vince where getting their gasp of air.

  "I made some Cake if you want any." Rody nods as they enjoyed a slice.

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

Fuck. Vince woke up the pink painted on his cheeks. It was just a dream....why did it feel so real?

------ 717 words

Note this chapter is a special and not part my story i just wanted to make it :)

[nobodysdaydreams]

OH AM I GONNA HAVE SOME FUN WITH THIS IF I EVER HAVE THE TIME TO WRITE FANFIC

(Or my reaction to Episode 61 of Wolf359: Brave New World).

Well gang, we did it. We've reach the end. Sorry for how my reactions went from super spaced out to speed running the finale in a number of days, but I did warn you that I'm just sporadic like that. Though I have been semi-putting Brave New World off, because as much as I want to know how Wolf359 ends, I don't want it to end. I love these characters. I want good things for them. As much as I hate what they did, I wish that Hilbert and Maxwell had gotten the chance to get the redemption arc that Jacobi got. Hilbert had plenty of opportunities, but Maxwell was young and its not fair. I don't know how much more sadness they are gonna throw at me, but I'm guessing its a lot and I can't listen to it all in one sitting, so I'm just mentally preparing myself.

I also don't want this to end because I've loved giving you guys these reactions. Thank you all for reading my rambles and enjoying them. It means a lot to me, and I hope you were entertained. Thanks for coming on this journey with me, and please know that the second this is over, I am gonna figure out how to unblock the wolf359 tags (I did it so long ago I forgot how I did it, oopsie-daisy), and I am am gonna be reblogging and going crazy over all your posts and fanart and stuff so I hope you're ready for that.

Plus finishing the podcast also means it's time for me to deliver on those fics I promised y'all, which have been very carefully written (in my head). I will write them out eventually, but if there is anything my tmbs mutuals will tell you, my wolf359 mutuals, it's that my ideas tend to lead to other ideas, which means my fics do tend to be a little long, but (based on the reviews I've gotten) worth the read. So it might take a while to get them on AO3, but when I do, I hope you enjoy them!

Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that and for any spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts.

@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @herawell @commsroom @lovelyladylavie

Episode 61: Brave New World

The fact that Brave New World was written in 1932 and Cutter and Pryce are old and the fact that the message of Brave New World is about humans losing their humanity...already we're setting the stage.

And based on Kepler's earlier declaration, why do I suspect that this is the part where Doug's daughter's life and Minkowski's husband's life are finally on the line. I know Cutter and Pryce won't hesitate to aim their guns at them (and probably the rest of the planet too).

That moment when you can't tell if Wolf359 starts with sad piano music, or if this is just an ad for another podcast.

Oh it's the intro. Hi Hera! Or Miranda...oh wait I genuinely can't tell if this is Miranda talking about herself or Hera talking about her.

Clouded eyes, weak heart, child genius, orphan, no friends...I see. Obsessed with making things stronger and better. Yeah, except for herself I bet. Oh. She made her friends. Because she could control them. "Never left her behind, never talked back, never were afraid of her...except when she wanted them to be." "The one thing she couldn't fix was herself" see I called it!

Until? Oh no. Marcus.

And Old Man? Almost as clever as her? "Hello little girl. I want you to make a doll for me. You're very best doll. It must look like a real person, and sound like a real person, and be a real person." "And if I can?" "Then you and I will fix the world. I will be young and you will be whole and the world will finally be everything it could be. Everything it should be."

Okay. Thoughts.

When I made my jokes about Pryce being Cutter's evil science girlfriend, I was not assuming a romantic relationship, I was trying to use that language to insult Pryce and Cutter by making them sound like the kids they hate so much in a frivolous, juvenile and toxic relationship. Then, I was told by a few of you that given this assumption, it’s important that I know that I shouldn't assume that Pryce met Cutter when she was young based on this story and it was meant to be "fairytale language", which does make sense given that Cutter being willing to call Miranda his "work wife" when he's known her since she was young enough to be his granddaughter is incredibly creepy.

I appreciate the clarification, but also, I really don't think it matters whether this is hyperbole or not. If it is, then okay. Pryce and Cutter's relationship is still weird. If it's not, then Cutter's a creep, what a surprise. Tell me something I don't know.

"And so they did. And everyone lived happily ever after. The end."

The fact that it's Cutter that interrupts Miranda's story to give that closing line and declare this the end adds to the creepiness. Miranda says what Marcus's promise to her was, but never says whether she agreed before Marcus jumps in with "and so they did". Also, if Miranda was dying, Cutter was her only chance at survival. It also sounds like she was a kid with a pretty messed up view of the world. Doesn't excuse anything she did, but see Cutter? THAT is how you give a good sad backstory, and she did it in five minutes. You spent a whole hour with Nash just so you could cry that the government took your precious telescope.

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

"THAT'S the evil plan?" Care to fill us in Doug?

"That's THE plan, yes." Shut it Rachel. It's evil and you know it.

It's...so evil. And so...planned. Doug's words might be simple, Rachel, but sometimes simple is better. It gets to the point and cuts through the BS.

"It's real and it's happening" And ARE you happy about this Kepler? And why tell them?

Good question Kepler, why are you here? Please tell me you're going to take Rachel away.

"You're going to help" "of course I am" Are you Kepler? Oh please tell me he gets a redemption arc and betrays Cutter.

Does anyone want to fill ME in on the plan? No one? Okay. :(

"Where's the trust?" That's not for you, Rachel.

"I really don't like her" I don't either, Doug.

"What about Cutter's plan?" WHAT IS THE PLAN? WILL BOB AGREE TO IT? WHAT WILL WORK? WHAT WILL THEY DO?

We can't stop them, so let's see our families again. No, Minkowski, you can do this! I believe in you! You can't just go home, we have two hours left! That's plenty of time to stop them.

It's been a long...years.

I forget how long they've been up there. And that everyone on Earth believes they're dead.

And not do anything about WHAT? WHAT IS THE PLAN PLEASE FILL ME IN.

What was that sound?

-----------

Oh Doug is in the comms room. Oh yikes. It's okay, Doug. We've all broken very expensive lab equipment before.

"Living in a cuckoo clock" you have no idea, Doug.

"I wouldn't do that." Is that Pryce or Hera? And yeah why is there gas?

"Good boy" oh good it's Hera. Hera calls him good boy, Pryce just calls him boy.

"Who are you?" OH THIS IS DOUG MEETING HERA FOR THE FIRST TIME. At first I thought that Doug...forgot her? Or something? I was confused.

Ultraviolet halo? Contraband cigarettes. 😂

"Just ask. I'm here to help." Aw that was sweet.

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

Ew Rachel. I'm gonna start using "----" breaks to cut off sections.

"Actually he's in quite a lot of pain. Back to work." Always charming, Rachel.

"Thanks for saving our lives-" Kepler, that's a great question. What IS this? Where was the concern for brainwashed Jacobi or better still, WHERE WAS YOU CONCERN FOR MAXWELL? Or Jacobi dealing with her death?

"And do what? Get myself shot? Get you shot? No. I played the game." Was it worth it, Kepler?

"That's the lie you tell yourself. The truth? The truth is that you were afraid. And the only thing YOU did was try to save YOUR hide?"

Dang this dialogue is amazing.

"You're not wrong." "Which one?" "Both of you." This isn't YOUR conversation Rachel.

-----------

Momentary weakness?

Oh my gosh, the good food too? Why does Cutter hit so many show Curtain parallels? He might torture, enslave, and kill people, but he's gonna get them a good meal first.

Good for you Doug, turning down the wine. I'm proud of him.

This is a sweet moment between Doug and Lovelace. I gotta say, since I'll be reacting to this section by section, it's nice that they have it broken up a little like this so I can reach a section and then get to a stopping point if I need to.

I'm just worried about who is going to die. These conversations feel like goodbyes.

----------

Minkowski. I know you miss your husband. But...yeah, ARE you ready to go back?

YEAH WE'RE DOING THIS! To borrow from Eris's words: "Let's beat the bad guys 🥳"

----------

Quiet Rachel.

LET'S GO MINKOWSKI. WHO CARES WHAT CUTTER AND PRYCE WANT?

Wait. Destroy a whole species?

Are they talking about humans?

...are they ecofascists? Eugenicists? Pryce is literally disabled, how the heck...

"Only stay if you have to." Well, it sounds like you all have to.

"Hera what did you say to her" "Something a friend once said to me" 🥰🥰🥰

"I'm starting to think these guys are my kind of stupid" GO JACOBI!

"Adorable corpses 🥰" Rachel you suck!

"Come with us. You're still people, you're still on our side, even if you don't think you are." Very true. What do you think Pryce and Cutter will do to YOU when they have what they want? They'll dispose of you too.

"You're allowed to make mistakes as long as at some point you admit that they're mistakes!" "I was wrong and people died. All I can do is not be wrong again" "You knew what you were getting into" "No I didn't. I didn't know I was getting into mind control and reducing people to nothing. There's a line. And you're almost out of chances to get on the right side of it." PREACH!

"There is no line. Forwards. Always forwards." FORWARDS TO WHAT RACHEL? WHY HAS NO ONE SHOT HER YET?

"Thank you, Daniel, and goodbye." Oh so that's how it is. Goodbye Kepler. I look forward to your last minute sacrifice.

Character arcs woven like a quilt.

"We're going to crush them" Yeah, let's do it!

A full reboot? Worth the risk? That kind of stuff always worries me.

Is this Maxwell's notes? It's hard to recognize the voice on the recording. "She really was something special" Oh it is Maxwell.

----------

Ah. Another flashback! Jacobi meeting Maxwell.

Looks like Kepler got an important text.

"Cool stuff with robots" good work Maxwell. The best scientists can always dumb it down.

"The Whiskey speech" 😂

"You're one of the best. You're gonna do great things. It's the last nice thing you'll ever hear from me. Except: you need anything I got you're back. No matter what happens, I've got your back. I'll take you up on that." 😭💔

Oh it's okay. Take my heart. I didn't need it.

----------

"Are they going to do the smart thing?" "Well who are we to deny them an agonizing death?" Shut it Cutter.

They put a tracker on Jacobi? See I knew Rachel was a snake. So is Kepler, but at least he's gonna take a bullet for someone or something. My money's on Jacobi, but I could be wrong.

----------

Yep. Eiffel logs everything.

"I never got the chance to say I'm sorry. YOUR DAD LOVES YOU, YOUR DAD LOVES YOU SO MUCH." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

"Don't let anyone tell you that you can't do something. You can go so far. I wish I could be there to see it. I love you Ann. Always and forever."

AKJLS;DJFKL;SJF;ALSKDJFA;KD

Time to go? Oh. The comms room? Oh, right. Poor Doug.

"One more day, and then we're done." This is so sad.

Wait...what is happening? OH SHE LIED. SHE'S TAKING EIFFEL HOME TO PROTECT HIM. SO HE CAN SEE HIS DAUGHTER? DON'T DO THIS TO DOUG! DON'T DO THIS TO ME.

"Go home Eiffel, hug your daughter" OH HE CALLED HER RENEE!

This leaves me with so much feeling.

Eiffel can't leave he's the main character. Who will make pop culture references? Who will save the day through the power of random associations, luck, and good intentions?😭😭😭

I hate that they the bad guys know exactly what happened too.

"I'm so sick of this happening!" Use too Doug.

Oh "For god's sake just let me change the flight plan!" So that's what the F stands for. The lore I've been waiting for.

"People need to know what's coming?" Minkowski...I get why you did what you did, but HERA DIDN'T GET TO SAY GOODBYE.

----------

Is this Minkowski's flashback?

Oh when Minkowski met Hera.

"I heard units prefer to go by their serial numbers..." "I don't" Good for you Hera!

I love this. I love these flashbacks, but they just make everything so much more sad!

----------

Ah. More piano music. Does this mean we're back to the bad guys, or...?

Is this Cutter playing the piano?

"The Tempest. Do read a book sometime. Is this the best use of our time?" Pryce and Cutter are really the most toxic people.

"A storm is coming. And on the other side..." "Oh Brave New World." "That has such people in it."

Yes, Pryce and Cutter. People. As in humans. As in: NOT YOU.

"How have they decided to throw their lives away?" "By destroying the device"

WHAT DEVICE? What are you talking about?

Heck yeah a harpoon! I hope Cutter gets it.

----------

"This is Minkowski. I love schedules and musicals and that man who I married." 😂 1-2-3-4-5? It was a good guess Doug. Would have worked in my fanfic.

Okay here comes Victor...

...um what is happening? What is this?

...a surprise party? Sounds fun! 🪩🥳

Oh right, the bio tracker. I'm happy to see Jacobi pulled one over on him. Now shoot him! Please tell me that was Victor that got shot.

They...they trapped him in the room. "Tell me this before I kick your ass" Why on Earth would he ever tell you anything Victor?

----------

Okay, so they are blowing up Pryce and Cutter's evil device, but...what is the device? What ARE they doing? Did I miss it? I'm sure they're doing something to enslave or kill all of humanity, but I'd like the specifics.

"The Hephaestus has almost fallen out of the sky so many times, it's hard to believe it's happening." Well...the show isn't over until it's over.

Is this a Lovelace flashback? A date? A date with who? Oh, Hilbert. Not that kind of date then. Oh, this is her introducing Hilbert to the crew he's going to betray.

"Prudent to keep things formal" to avoid the guilt.

Selburg. Once again with the constant fake names. Dmitri. Matthew.

Though I think Miranda has always had hers.

----------

Yeah Doug. You've listened to her say it so many times. This is like me trying to drive in my hometown. No, I wasn't paying attention in the car as a kid, I was not the one doing the driving. I just zoned out and we got from point A to point B by magic.

Oh, Minkowski. "Get up and do it already. You can do it."

Yes you can Doug. You are the main character. You are the guy that's gonna swoop in at the last second when Cutter pulls one over one them. So you CAN do it. I believe in you, Eiffel.

"Victor Uniform Lemma Charlie Alpha November VULCAN" I knew it must stand for something! Good work Doug!

----------

Oh dear. More of Pryce and Cutter's marriage falling apart.

"Time to change the world." Or you could not. Maybe you could just not.

WHY IS THE DEVICE RUNNING? WHAT DEVICE? WHY DOES HE NEED TWO MINUTES?

Please explain this? Oh of course he has a speech.

Oh he's talking to the dear listeners, not the Hephaestus crew.

Ah. The Decima virus. Thanks a lot Hilbert. DEPLOY THROUGHOUT THE EARTH? He wants to cause a pandemic????

Automatic, can't be stopped, destruction of human race? But why would the aliens care? Oh because Cutter wants them to talk to HIM? But the aliens prefer Doug.

As do most others it would seem. Hurts, doesn't it, Cutter? All those years of experience and work, and yet, you still just can't have what he has, can you?

Ah. It's Bob. Did he just shock Bob? No temporal jumps, no disintegration?

"Remarkable and cold" No Bob, you saw Doug! It's just them. They don't need to be cold.

Willing to disrupt species survival??? What piece of tech do they want? Surrogates?

They want to fill the world with people they can control?

"You can't make duplicates of our species." Bob, they are worst than you can ever imagine.

"We're going to make better humans." "That is not the way that-" "Random part out of the equation" That's a bad idea. Do you know how evolution works? Do you know the negative side effects that have come out of selective breeding of animals? The unintended consequences? To quote Miranda from earlier in the episode: READ. A. BOOK.

"Our Humanity" Gross.

HOW ARE THEY ACCEPTABLE? IT'S MUSIC. WHY ARE YOU THAT DESPERATE FOR MUSIC?

Oh here is comes. Betraying Rachel and Warren.

OH TELL HIM BOB.

"Your brains can't handle it without modification. I cannot with my limitations. Do you have Doug Eiffel?"

Hahaha...hahahahahahaha....HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA..... 😂😂😂😂

Oh boy...oh Cutter is gonna snap. If only Doug had just kept going...

Oh wow okay Cutter has lost it. What happened to emotionally playing the piano and giving speeches about how the time had come?

oh geez no, Doug is back. Doug, no, they need you for the evil plans. This is a good idea, but very bad timing.

"He wouldn't" Oh he WOULD. He really really would.

Show 'em how it's done Dougie Boy!

"I'll get it" No you will NOT Miranda.

Kepler, now is a great time to betray Cutter and Rachel. A really good time.

Also is Victor dead? I'm trying to keep track of how many bad guys are gone.

----------

"You're the only person who can receive the data Pryce and Cutter want" Oh dear.

"With my life darling, with my life" 🥹💕

So what is Hera going to do?

"Lets make sure at least someone makes it through this" YOU ALL NEED TO MAKE IT.

"Let's go get our idiot back" That's the spirit baby!

----------

Oh dear. Jacobi. "Terrific for an SI-5." Wow.

"I'm gonna win!" I hope so Jacobi. But it sounds very not good.

Oh and here's Doug. And um...other Doug. Aka Bob.

Bob. Do not do this.

That was it? "You shall not call me again" "No Bob. I shall not."

THEY KILLED BOB.

"I hate loose ends"

I mean, I saw that coming, but dumb idea. I'm SURE Bob's family will be cool with that! Oh right, he just...recreates himself. But this has got to be trippy for Doug because Bob takes his form. Imagine watching a clone of yourself die.

"Pryce is not right?" DANG IT DOUG, I WAS GONNA USE THAT PUN IN MY FANFICTION AND NOW I CAN'T (WELL MAYBE I STILL WILL WE'LL SEE WHAT HAPPENS HERE).

"Let's make a deal 🥰" Wow Pryce is the worst. Again, very trippy how much she sounds like Doug.

Wait. GOING IN? What does. What does "going in" mean? Don't go in, I don't like going in?

Ah yes. Going into someone's mind. I've done that in my fics before too. Fun stuff. And um...it's because you're disorganized Doug, I hate to tell you.

"That was...that was...that was..." OH SHE DESTROYED THE MEMORY. OH SHE TOOK THE MEMORY?

This is...horrifying. She could take his daughter away. She could take Hera, Minkowski, and everyone and everything away.

HERA! HECK YEAH!

Oh my gosh is she actually here? Like as a person?

This is everything.

----------

Ah yes, confrontation with Cutter.

Cutter has modified his body or he has a magic shield.

He can catch bullets? Of course he can.

I wouldn't try hand to hand combat either. I bet he gave himself super strength.

There has to be a weak spot. He has to have a weakness. But what could it be...

...what is the opposite of a chai latte?

----------

Ah. Back to Jacobi.

Kepler this would be a GREAT TIME to come in and get your arc. "I'm not a good guy" oh Jacobi. What's happening now? Oh has he been pretending to lose this fight to buy them time? What is happening? It's hard to tell.

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She's always been interesting, Pryce! You’re just noticing now.

"You don't look like me." Disappointed, Pryce? Sad that she’s better than you?

And the fact that all these AI want human forms...this is so sad. They structured them based on human consciousness so of course they want human bodies and experiences, that's just cruel.

Wait Doug got beat up in the 2nd grade? The Star Wars Prequels? "I might be okay without that one" No one tell him about the sequels 😂😂😂

"Of course you can. You can do anything." 💕

"You and what army, 214?" The sounds in this really makes the fight sound super epic. One of my favorite parts of the whole thing.

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Oh gross not Rachel again. Why is she still here?

And Kepler. Dude, you wanna hurry it up? Grab your arc or go, the clock is a-ticking.

"We're changing what humanity can be." you suck Rachel.

Pulse beacon, half power? What does that mean? The signal wouldn't have made it back to Earth?

"We have tell Mr. Cutter." "Do we?" KEPLER THIS IS IT!

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!!

He gave you a chance, Rachel. He gave you a chance. "After all, I am still a person. I'm on Jacobi and Minkowski's side. Even if they don't think I am"

And even if they never know you were.

Is she gonna blast him out the airlock? Rachel, you're dying, it's over! You were wrong! The best thing to do is let him live!

He's literally drinking as he goes out the airlock. My...my wish came true. But this isn't how I wanted it to... why now? Why like this? 💔

It's a true sacrifice though. Because even though no one will ever know, he still did the right thing.

You became more than just a Whiskey Boy in the end Kepler. You became so much more.

Rachel, no so much. You were never anything. It doesn't matter if Warren was not as good as you. Because now you're both dead. And your life, well...you were never anyone. Or at least, you haven't been anything or anyone for a long, long, time. So be quiet now.

Silence at last.

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HOW CAN CUTTER GET HER TO POINT HER GUN AT MINKOWSKI? WHAT...WHAT DID THEY DO?

Well this isn't good.

Ah yes. Back to Jacobi. Looks like Kepler's not coming to save him. But at least he took care of Rachel.

Explosives? Fireworks? Oh this is a party! 🎆🎇🧨

Well that was a grand surprise party! But um...does this mean Victor and Jacobi are dead now?

Ah back to Lovelace and Minkowski!

"It's...side wave radiation!" Okay, thank you Cutter, now we know what we need to shut down.

"Humans who do exactly what we tell them to do" "You're crazy"

Yeah. He is literally crazy.

OH SHE SHOT HER??? Oh no....Oh no please tell me SOMEONE makes it out of this.

What really did happen the night of Doug's junior prom? Sounds interesting.

Fishing with Dad? Okay these memories are getting personal.

Wait, what did Doug do?

What are they going to do? Oh they could delete the memories Bob put in there. But they need to find them before Pryce.

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Shut up about the stomach wound Cutter. No one cares. This isn't rewriting a person. And THAT'S NOT WHY PEOPLE CARED ABOUT HER YOU IDIOT. And without your intelligence and tech, who. are. YOU, CUTTER?

Renee Minkowski! YES! Tell him!

Lovelace you can fight this. I know you can.

Shut it Cutter. No one cares.

"Sooner or later, you're gonna do as your told" And sooner or later, you are gonna lose everything, Cutter.

"You really think I'm afraid of you?" "THE BEAUTIFUL THING IS I DON'T NEED YOU TO BE"

Please tell me they have the harpoon gun.

IT WAS THE HARPOON GUN? OH HECK YEAH!

"That's...not...how...this is suppose to..."

Yes, it is Cutter. Like you said. You know how these stories end. The good guys win. They might lose a lot in the process, but, they win.

Is he dead now, like, for real dead? I don't want to celebrate too early but MAN what a way to go.

He and Rachel even died in similar ways to. It's like they short circuited when they realized they didn't win.

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Ah Pryce. "I don't need to beat you. No matter how much I want to, no matter how much you deserve it, it wouldn't change anything. What I need to do is make sure you're not going to hurt anyone else again ever." That's right!

"I'm not going to hurt you." OH SAY THE CLIP YOUR WINGS LINE COME ON COME ON COME ON.

"Clip your wings a little. Goodbye Dr. Pryce."

So...Hera's gone now. So what is about to happen?

Oh no. Is she...is she gonna delete both their memories?

"Bye bye to my memories?" Oh Doug, oh poor Doug. His daughter, everything...oh Doug this sacrifice will not be forgotten. 🫡 This is so Milligan coded of him (@/tmbs mutuals).

"You can't. Don't do this." "Oooo...sorry buddy, we gotta" YEAH THROW IT BACK AT HER EIFFEL!

And goodbye. I hope you have a second chance with your daughter. I hope you never remember the trauma. All a bad dream. All a bad dream.

"Do you have any idea what you've...I'm sorry...what was I saying...where...where am I?" Oh my gosh the way her voice changed...and she apologized. Oh my gosh. She's literally a new person.

So...memories gone? Where does this leave her? Oh this will be fun in fanfics. Imagine having no memories, and people are weird about it, and then finding out that before you were basically the worst person to ever exist. How would you even mentally cope with that?

"Yeah commander, it's going." No, Doug! Doug!

"It was an honor, sir" Oh this is so sad.

"Hera...Hera I...I..." You know Hera. You were in his mind. Please tell me you know.

Oh. He's gone. 💔

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WHY IS RACHEL BACK I THOUGHT WE TOOK CARE OF THAT?

Oh it's her and Eiffel meeting, okay.

"Are you just asking if I'm the commander? Yes." I love Minkowski and Doug's friendship.

"Never use one word when ten will do" oh Doug...never change. Even if your memories are gone, I hope you find yourself again.

He didn't know you couldn't smoke in space? Oh Doug...at least now you can quit.

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"Do I know you?" Yes Doug. Yes you do.

She's briefing him. He...he doesn't remember Star Wars???

Well. At least he gets to watch it all again!

Wait. What's happening to the station? Are they...are they going into the star?

Oh no. So it's up to the dear listeners to save them, or...they just die here. Heroes. Heroes that everyone on Earth thought were dead already.

Oh she's rebooting now.

"Should we be doing something?" Oh did Renee pass out?

So...is Doug on the ship alone without his memories? What's happening?

----------

Where is Renee now? Lovelace? Where? What? The Urania? How?

Did they leave Pryce on board? Did Jacobi get out?

Oh good Hera, Minkowksi, and Lovelace made it. Jacobi did it! Nice work, Jacobi. Oh gosh he's so dramatic 😂

So I assume Doug made it too?

"What about Kepler" "No." Oh so, they must have found Rachel and discovered what he did. "You can't save everyone I suppose"

But you did save him, Jacobi. You did save Whiskey Boy.

And then where is Doug?

Oh he's listening to himself.

"I was a jerk" There's a lot worse things you can be, Doug.

It does make you wonder. If you looked at your life with a blank slate, what would you think? How would you be kinder to yourself? How would you be more critical?

"Am I still that same person?" If you want to be, Doug. If you want to be.

And what happened to Pryce? Please tell me you did not give her to the dear listeners.

IS THIS PRYCE?

Oh Hera and Pryce. "Your voice is like mine, isn't it?" "Nice to meet you, Hera." Oh. Oh my gosh. Pryce calling her Hera.

"And I'm...I'm going to tell you a very, very long story about the two of us, okay?"

I hope this ends well...

...please be a good guy, Pryce.

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Hey guys. Guys. Quick question.

Why are there 10 minutes left?

I um...I like this ending. They're going back to Earth, all is well. Please tell me nothing bad happens.

What happened with Pryce? Hera hasn't glitched at all? She did it. She conquered her fear. GO HERA! But um...what about Pryce? Is she...is she good?

Minkowski needs to find her husband. And yeah...you guys have a lot to figure out.

Lovelace...yep. Take Goddard down. Good idea. Explain to your friends you're an alien with extended lifespan...might want to break that gently.

Take who out?

Oh the ship. Is this it? They're going home? Please tell me they're actually going home. Don't tease me like this.

Oh right, what will Hera do now? I'm sure you'll find something.

And yeah. Doug might not know who he is, but he knows there are people he should see. And then...he'll figure it out. They'll all figure it out. "Am I still Doug Eiffel? I'm not sure. Want to find out together?"

Yes. I love this. 🥰

I also love how it connects to "will I miss you, when you go away forever Doug?" Yes, but he's not gone Hera. He's not gone.

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Five minutes left. So...what is that for? Do we finally get to meet Doug's daughter and Minkowski's husband...or…

That was wolf359! Oh it’s just the credits!

Great ending. But...wait. No wait. I'm confused hang on.

How did Jacobi escape from Victor to get the Urania? How is Hera going to survive on Earth? How did they fix those wounds? If the Hephaestus went into the star...

Wait. These aren't more alien copies are they? Oh wait, no Hera's here, sorry y'all I panicked for a moment. They duplicate human lives, but as far as I know, not AI. Also, if this was a happy dream sequence, why would Pryce be there? Okay, phew, we're good. We're...finally good.

And even if they are alien copies...the process will take 14,000 years. So. For the rest of their lives, at least. Especially since...they're still using Lovelace to spy on Earth. For the next 14,000 years. But I guess that’s a problem for future generations.

Okay. Great ending. Thoughts:

Cutter got what he deserved. So did Rachel, but I feel a bit sadder that she never realized the pointlessness of her life until it was too late (and really not even then). Also love that Cutter's original last name was "Newman" since he keeps making himself into "new men".

Kepler's sacrifice was great no notes. I hope he enjoyed the Whiskey.

Blessie should have come back, and in fanfic, I will find a way to make this happen.

Eris should have come back, and in fanfic, I will find a way to make this happen.

Are the Dear Listeners just going to leave Earth alone now? If the Hephaestus went into the star...does that mean they can make Rachel and Cutter copies? Because I don't like that...

I love that the aliens weren't the biggest threat in the end and Cutter was always the real monster.

Is Pryce cool now? She doesn't want revenge, does she? Like what do you even do with her at that point? (I have plans for this, don't worry).

How do they dismantle or repurpose Goddard? Cutter probably has guys still loyal to him on Earth or people who are gonna try to be the next Cutter now that he's out of the picture. How do you deal with them?

Okay...so the decima virus can be used for great good and great evil. Cutter apparently had stations with it set up all over the Earth. I hope no one stumble across one of those anytime soon. What exactly are they going to do about decima? It's still swimming about in Eiffel's blood.

Is Minkowski's journalist husband going to blow this case wide open? I hope that after her brief phone call with his secretary, Cutter didn't kill him to keep the rumors from spreading.

Will the families of all the other astronauts that died ever get closure? I know we don't want this getting out and causing panic, but they deserve answers too.

When. Is. The. Empty. Man. Going. To. Show. Up???? /j /It was Cutter the whole time because he has no humanity

Well that was fun. Again, the fanfic will probably take a good long while (I put off a lot in order to listen to this ending), but I look forward to mapping it out.

Once again, thank you all for listening along with me. This has been fun.

Now, to figure out how to unblock those pesky tags...