#just reminded me of what i've been trying to distract myself from lately and that's that i'm really not. made to be alive

[wolfiesmoon]

When you wear their clothes

genshin men x gn!reader

characters featured: xiao, neuvillette, wriothesley, zhongli and itto

i've been dreaming about genshin a lot lately idk this game has possesed me or smth so i feel like i'm required to write this? Also DAMN im rusty with genshin characters so i apologise profusely for any ooc-ness

(also wrio's is kinda suggestive!!)

XIAO is confused. Why on earth are you wearing his clothes? He isn't opposed to it specifically, but doesn't understand the appeal or the reason why you do it. "My clothes don't fit you properly. What's the point?" he asks, completely straight faced. You smile. "It reminds me of you when you're not with me!" He just scoffs and says he doesn't get your strange habits before moving on with his day. Somehow though, the image of you in his clothes won't leave his mind for the rest of the day. "Dammit..." he mumbles under his breath, barely audible when nobody's around. Don't bring up his pink cheeks in the evening when he comes back to see you, he will not elaborate.

Similarly, NEUVILLETTE is also confused. This must be another human thing that he isn't familiar with. What does wearing their lover's clothes mean to humans? "Oh, I just missed you... your clothes remind me of you, you know?" You explained when he questioned you on the matter. "Oh, I suppose that makes sense. Do you want more items related to myself for when I am absent?" He asks. While you do want to know what items he would bring you, you turn him down. "I like your shirts the most, because they smell like you and feel like your hugs." He doesn't know why exactly, but he has the urge to kiss you all of a sudden.

WRIOTHESLEY feels distracted when he sees you in his clothes from time to time. He gets busy a lot, so the moments he gets to spend with you feel extra special. But, what is he to do when you look so positively yummy in his shirt? "Hey, mind taking my shirt off? It's... sort of distracting." he admits, taking a sip of his tea. "But, wouldn't it be even more distracting if I took it off now?" you asked, feigning an innocent look. He almost spit out his tea. "I did not mean it like that...! Surely you're just teasing me." You just smiled mischeviously in response, taking a sip out of your own cup. "That's what I thought. I know that look."

ZHONGLI thinks you look odd in his clothes. Odd, but not bad by any means. You actually look quite endearing. "I'll make sure to commit this to memory." he says calmly, sitting down next to you on the bed. "You say that every time you're with me." you poke his shoulder gently, smiling up at him. "That's because everything about you is worth remembering, I suppose." Still, he thinks this specific memory is one he will treasure for a long, long time. "Oh my..." you felt heat rushing to your cheeks at his words, hugging his arm. Actually, he changed his mind, you're positively adorable in his clothes.

You're basically asking to get attacked with a flurry of kisses if you wear ITTO'S clothes in front of him. That's like, a show of affection! That you're totally his and no one else's! And that also means it's a cause for celebration! "Agh, Itto- Stop!" you try and fail to push his face away. "Hehehe..." he gives you a bright smile and places a big ol' kiss on your lips. "You should wear my clothes more often!!!" he felt proud of himself, puffing out his chest. "Ummm, whatever you say..." you're kind of worried that if you do that, your face will never escape his lips.

[i-padfootblack-things]

Unwritten [Aemond Targaryen x reader]

A/n: Hi everyone! I haven't written in SUCH a long time, I've been so busy with uni lately, and my writing is SO rusty. House of the Dragon brought me back to writing, since it's so good, and I'm quite literally obsessed with ALL the men & women there.

Apologies for any mistakes, it's late at night and english isn't my first language.

Requests are OPEN for most of the House of the Dragon characters.

Summary: Reader finds letters that reveal the truth behind her marriage to Aemond. He proves to her what their marriage actually means.

Nodding at the guards standing outside Aemond's study, I entered, expecting him to be sitting at his desk.

As soon as I stepped foot in the room, I was enveloped by the light that entered through the open window, and I understood why he enjoyed spending his time in here. It wasn't often that I came in this room, but I missed him more than usual. I let go of the surprise that he was nowhere to be seen, assuming he was going to come back soon.

The light breeze coming in from the window rustled papers on his desk, an action which distracted me from his absence. Wanting nothing more than to put them back, I made my way to the desk. My gaze dropped to them as I reached for what looked like letters.

My eyebrows furrowed as I noticed my house crest on them, the first thing I looked for was the date. These had been before I got married to Aemond. My heart squeezed in anticipation, as my eyes quickly scanned them over. My older brother, the one I thought to be so caring, practically signed me over to Aemond, in order to "ensure our family's safety".

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, trying to slow down my racing thoughts -- this wasn't a moment where I could let my emotions take over.

Scenes from before my wedding appeared in my mind, my mother telling me how in love Aemond must've been with me, since he requested my hand in marriage. All lies, I had been lied to for the past two years. My family betrayed me, filling my mind with lies, so I wouldn't be opposed to marrying him. My husband, the thought made me feel sick to my stomach, filled me with even more lies, all the times he said affectionate words to me, every time he told me he loved me -- none of them were true.

I had been told that Prince Aemond took a liking to me when he saw me a while back, during one of the formal gatherings at court. It was all fabricated by my mother and brother, who were desperate to win over the trust of the Greens. I had honestly been quite shocked at the news that the Prince wished for my hand in marriage, not believing my family's words. He repeated over and over that I had won over his heart in the mere moments we danced together until I actually believed them.

Dropping the letters back on the desk, I didn't care if they were organized or not, I had already made a plan. I will return to the bedroom I shared with Aemond, take some gold, enough to buy me a place on a ship, and run away - it wouldn't matter where, for now.

Before I could leave, the door to his study opened. "My wife, I missed you," Aemond's voice filled the room.

Turning towards him, I couldn't bring myself to smile back, so I just waited for him to reach me. One of his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me towards him, the other pushing a few strands of hair out of my face, a soft smile resting on his lips. I fought to not lean in to his touch, as I normally would. I had to remind myself of the letters I found, having to tell myself he didn't actually care for me-- it was just an act, a marriage of convenience, apparently. The dark thoughts made their way onto my face, as a shadow of worry appeared on my husband's face.

"What's wrong, my heart?" I tried not to scoff at the words he used. The hand that was resting on my face moved to straighten the furrow of my eyebrows.

"I found out I had been lied to." I tried my best to keep my tone even, pushing him away and grabbing the letters. "All the people I care about betrayed me. My family. My husband."

It was his turn to frown now, his eyes falling to the letters. "How have I betrayed you, my love?"

"Stop- Please, stop saying words like these if you don't mean them." I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the pain in his beautiful ones. I continued speaking, not caring that he wanted to say something. "My family told me you wanted to marry me. Not that they convinced you to take my hand. They sold me to you." My voice broke, so I stopped talking, choosing to control my breathing.

"Look at me." I kept my eyes focused on the wall behind him. "Please." He raised his hand, placing it under my chin and moving my face towards his. As soon as our eyes met, tears escaped. "Don't cry, my heart. Let me explain myself. It is true, your family came with the offer."

I scoffed, shaking my head sadly, but I let him continue.

"If I wouldn't have wanted to marry you, I could have easily denied them at any moment. Do you remember when we shared a dance years ago?" I nodded. "That was the moment I decided I would marry you. No matter the circumstances. It just happened that your family reached out first."

He lowered his head slowly towards mine, giving me enough time to push him away if I wanted to, but I didn't. "I love you," he whispered as he closed the distance between us, his lips lovingly kissing mine, then moving from my lips to my cheek, then my other cheek. My nose was next, then he kissed the tears that reached my jaw, from there going to my neck.

"I guess some parts were left unwritten."

Applying more pressure to the sensitive spot he knew on my neck, I moaned lightly, making him chuckle.

"Let me bring you to our bedroom, so I can show you just how much I love you." He picked me up, holding me closely. "You won't ever have to question my love for you."

Another A/n: I'm sorry my smut fans, but I stopped here- if people request the continuation of this fic (it would have smut- and A LOT)

[harrystylesfan2686]

Pieces Part 3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: the aftermath of the break up has different effects on both, Azriel and Reader.

A/N: yall I'm sick🥲 the updates might be late but I'll try to post as much as possible. Hope you like this one!

Pieces Masterlist

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It's been one month.

One month of Healing.

When azriel left, I told myself that I will not contact him until I'm ready. Doesn't matter how much I'm missing him or wanting him. I will not talk to him until I know I won't take him back the second I see him again.

I gave myself two days. Two days to sulk all I wanted. I spent the whole time crying and feeling miserable about myself. Before Az left at least, I wasn't by myself. At least I saw him once a day.

Now? Nothing.

I am totally alone. His absence hit me Hard. Everything I saw, almost brought me to my knees.

The kitchen where we would make dinner together, laughing and joking with each other that many times ended with us covered in flour and syrup.

The couch where we would sit cuddling and talking until we fell asleep, always waking up with strained muscles.

His office where he would sit on his chair in front of his desk, writing out reports and whatnot while I sit in his armchair reading my book. Just enjoying each others company and occasionally taking breaks to make out on the very deck, and then some.

After those dreadful days though, I called Feyre and Mor and had a very much needed girls night. We took out a wine bottle and I spilled everything to them. My mind was too drunk to think my feelings about Elain might offend Feyre but she genuinely felt sad for me and embarrassed about her sister. The poor girl even apologised to my about Elain's behavior to which I immediately told her it wasn't her fault.

When I told them how lonely it got being alone in a big house like this, they suggested maybe I should get a job or something to keep my mind distracted and promised that they'll visit me often. So I did juat that.

I found a part time job at a local library. I have to admit, I'm really enjoying it. I'm the second assistant to the sweetest lady, Hilda, who owns the shop. I don't do much, just help her in small things like adjusting books on self or helping in shipping books out or in. Layla, the first assistant, handles most of the work around the shop. My job is basically doing what she asks of me. The salary isn't much but I don't care because it's never been about money.

The first week was very hard. Everyday after I came home, the silence felt like a slap on the face, reminding me of everything I lost.

But, slowly, I became comfortable with it. Now it's doesn't hurt me as it did before.

There were many times when I think of Azriel, tears filled my eyes, but I never let them free. I sucked them in and did anything else that didn't made me cry, like taking baths, baking my favorite chocolate brownies, reading in front of the fire place while drinking hot coco or calling my friends to take me shopping.

And as time went. I started to heal. I started to feel good, happier with myself. And without even realizing it, I started to love myself.

-☆-

Azriel

It's been one month.

One month of regretting everything I did to my mate.

I've spent my whole month sulking in this room, crying and regretting everytime I chose Elain over my wife. I haven't slept at all since I came here, just enough to keep me functioning. My appetite is gone. I don't eat unless Rhys come and force feeds me like I'm some baby.

I told Rhysand and Cassian everything the first morning i stayed here. Which earned me a flick to head by Cassian and a very disappointed look from Rhys. Even though they didn't give me any scolding(which I very much deserved), the flick and expression said enough.

Rhys has refrained me of any work, handling it himself or having someone else do it. While I have been sitting around here and hating myself. It seems like even my mind has declared itself an enemy, showing me memories of everytime I dismissed Y/N and hurt her in any way at most random times, cutting a deeper cut in my heart everytime.

"Hey Az, I was thinking if we could go out for dinner tonight? There is this new amazing restaurant I saw while walking near Sidra. I really want to try it." She told me as I put on my coat, ready to go.

"I can't, I have a mission for today. Rhys told me it's important so I can't skip. We'll go some other time. Okay?"

"Ok."

I could hear the excitement in her voice when she asked me and the hurt when I rejected her and promised to go another time. The time never came. She never asked again. And I never noticed.

"Az, are you awake?" She whispers in the dead of night. Both of us sleeping on the bed. My back to her, hoping to fall asleep quickly because I have early training tomorrow.

Cassian is spending time with Nesta more, so Rhys has told me to go to an illyrian camp to check how things are going. I have to wake and go there early to catch them off guard to see what's truly going on.

I can't do that if Y/N doesn't let me sleep.

I didn't answer her that night, hoping if i dont respond, she'll think im asleep and doesnt call me again. She really didnt call me again. I prioritized my sleep over her. Her voice sounded so small. She needed me. And I didn't care.

"So, I saw a really cute baby in garden today and..." I drone out her babbling and try to quickly I can get out of here, I promised Elain to help in her garden today. She'll be disappointed if I show up late.

"Az? You're listening to me right?" She suddenly questions, I clear my throat and answer a small, of course, she nods and takes a deep breath, not saying anything anymore. I sign in relief of the silence.

I put my head in my hands and tug hard on my hair, wanting to feel hurt, hurt the kind that she clearly felt and I didn't care.

I hate myself more and more as memories flash through my mind. I can't even cry at this point. I wished she'd hit me when we fought. Slaped and paunched some sense into me. I don't blame her at all for not talking to me. Gods, I wouldn't even blame her if she left me. I deserve it.

How do I fix this?

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Taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget @going-through-shit @wallacewillow0773638 @kalulakunundrum @cat-or-kitten

[sunshinekindof]

My Guiding Star

To say that life on Arrakis is not easy would be an understatement. But I did not complain, really. Despite the constant heat, the problems with the Harkonтen soldiers, the constant struggle for every drop of water and life itself, I was the happiest woman in the world. Because I was next to the man with whom I had decided to share my life. To whom only a few months ago, standing before the altar, I said "yes" and became his wife. The wife of Paul Atreides. Even if it sounds like a cliché and no one believes me, I do not care at all. Even hell can be endured if there is someone who is ready to share all the hardships with you.

For the first time in our long stay on Arrakis, among the Fremen, Paul and I found time for ourselves. Not far from the sitch, in the middle of the night, we lay on the sand near the tent and looked at the starry sky of Arrakis. Just him and me. Moments of happiness in the constant storm. We didn't need to talk. I don't know how, but we seemed to sense each other. I felt when Paul was worried, when he was again overcome with doubts and fears about his future, our future. And the prophecy. Which, on top of all the problems, hung over our heads like the Sword of Damocles.

- Paul..., - I began, trying to distract him from what was happening in his head now.

- Mmm..., - he muttered.

- You know that I love you, right?

- Of course. And I love you. But why are you asking?

- He turned his head in my direction and I saw in his eyes, which were already clouded with blue.

- Because I thought you needed to be reminded of it. You've been distant from me lately. But I don't blame you. Considering everything that's been going on, it was the truth. I really did think so, despite the aching pain in my heart that appeared every time I thought about it or said it.

- Do you feel like I've distanced myself from you? - he asked with anxiety in his voice.

- Yes, but, as I said... - I didn't have time to finish, because I felt his lips on mine. Paul kissed me tenderly, as if he was afraid that I would break.

- I'm sorry that you got that impression, my love. Maybe I've distanced myself, yes, but that's only because... - he lowered his eyes and took a deep breath, as if he was about to confess to a terrible crime or sin - sometimes in my visions I see that you die by my hand or because of me. No matter what I do. No matter how I try to save you, - he fell silent, closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to mine. There was only silence around, and then I heard his whisper "I can't lose you."

- Paul, look at me, - I asked tenderly. When he opened his eyes, it seemed to me that all the weight of the world that had fallen to him was reflected in them. He looked at me and did not look away for a second, - Paul, you are my husband. My beloved. The man I chose and will continue to choose forever. I know that you are afraid. You are afraid of jihad, afraid to go south, but I want you to know that you are not alone. I will always be on your side. Just... do not close yourself off from me, okay? Please, - I pressed my lips to his for a moment, and then continued, - always keep an open mind. You said that the future can be changed by any action, any word, right?

Paul nodded tensely and continued not to take his eyes off me. I felt that with each of my words his hands on my waist were squeezing tighter and tighter, as if he was afraid that I would disappear.

- So you and I will try to find the scenario of the future that will lead us to victory. To the prosperity of Arrakis. We will take revenge on the Harkonnens, the Empire, and all who have hurt us. And then we will turn Arrakis into a green paradise, we will become parents, and our children will be our continuation. And we will restore House Atreides to its glory.

- Will you be with me? Until the end?

- Of course, my love.

- And if I lose my way?

- Then I will be your guiding star, - I whispered and kissed him again.

[cant-get-enough-btr-forever]

Big Time Games: "Stage Rush"!

Perhaps you've seen my "Recycle Rush" play-by-play (wonderful little game, by the by). Now, here's my "Stage Rush" play-by-play.

Kendall, you're on camera. Put on your shoe.

*clears throat* Now that I got that out of the way...

First thing I saw after clicking "Play": Logan is all by his lonesome.

Did he get distracted by schoolwork/a new book, and the others left him behind?

Anyway, Lonesome Logan needs to get to the stage (hence Stage Rush). There are hordes of fans scattered in his path. You know, we have lines for a reason.

It's your job to steer him away from their light...beam...things. Basically, he's avoiding their eyes so he doesn't get violated.

You also have 3 VIP passes on hand, which are automatically given to anyone who sees Logan.

This will, um, bribe them into not tackling him.

You can grab extra passes along the way, as well as musical notes (which are bonus points).

But if you run out of passes, and someone notices you?

Right then. On with the show.

I busted out laughing as soon as he started...doing whatever this is.

Mighty inconspicuous there, dude.

Luckily, these fans (who mainly consist of twins) do not have working peripherals.

Logan: "If I just stand verrry still, they will never know I am here! 😃"

Side note: You know those movie scenes where a prisoner escapes at night, and they try to dodge the big searchlights? That's what this reminds me of.

And holy cannoli the girls' screams are irritating. I'll stay away from their weird glowing auras, if only to prevent them from screeching.

...Is that what this game is trying to show us? How annoying we can be...?

Once I'd eluded the searchlights fans, this is what it told me:

Ah. So Logan is actually early, and the other boys are late. Now that makes a bit more sense.

By the way, the VIP passes don't refresh for each guy. Therefore, if Logan only has 1 pass, so does Kendall. Although, confusingly, if Logan has 0 passes, Kendall magically has 1.

Oh well.

Anyhoo, here's the rest of Big Time Rush, merrily prancing after their bandmate.

And here's a screenshot of the first time I escaped with 8 passes (the most I ever salvaged):

It's sad how accomplished this made me feel.

The difficulty increases as you go from Logan, to Kendall, to James, and finally to Carlos. Which is amusing to me, because it implies that Carlos has the hardest time maneuvering the fans. I couldn't blame him, though.

I felt agoraphobic just looking at his situation.

The poor boy doesn't even have his Helmet to protect him.

I've got you, Carlitos.

Much better. (Side note: Is he wearing two watches...?)

After what I believe was my 5,397th attempt, I finally hustled all 4 guys to their dang stage. This was my prize:

They made it there on time, yet it still says "Game Over."

Makes sense.

I don't have an account with this site, but I clicked "Login" anyway.

The site Big Time Crashed.

I also checked my closet, hoping to find Big Time Rush. Sadly, I discovered nothing. If I had been able to log in, I'm certain they would've been in there.

You know what? It's fine. I got the boys to their show, and that's all that matters! In fact, I'm pretty sure I can call myself a pro gamer at this point...

Final Thoughts: This one definitely seems harder than "Recycle Rush." Also, Recycle Rush has many more levels. That said, Stage Rush's graphics are cool. I give it a 5/10.

Here's the link, if you want to try it out for yourself. Unfortunately, it's not mobile-device-friendly, so use a computer.

Once again, happy playing! ☺

[sorcharavenlock]

39. The Romance Festival.

Loki and I travel to the Romance Festival in San Myshuno. We are the first ones there. There is food and dancing, and a painting competition.

"Let's compete, it will be fun!" Loki already floats towards the easels. I shrug and follow. I'm not the best painter but I have nothing to lose, right?

We completely forget we are supposed to meet up with Kitty, Dean and Nea, who are running late.

"hey, you guys! I can't believe you started without us!" Nea's voice comes from behind me.

I turn around and my eyes nearly roll out of my head!

"Nea! Nea look behind you," I hiss.

Nea hadn't noticed Dean and Kitty kissing behind her.

"Well, that's new!" She grins.

"You didn't know either?" I ask curiously.

"I knew she liked him," Nea shrugs, "But I didn't know they were at te 'making out' stage!

"What ARE you painting?" Nea asks as she gets distracted by Loki's work. "Aren't you supposed to paint something romantic?"

"I think it is romantic!" Loki protests.

"It's a BEACH BALL!"

"It is a beach ball, which reminds me of the beach, which reminds me of Sulani, which, in my experience is the most romantic place on Midgard!" Loki turns bright pink.

"I think it's terribly romantic," I agree with him.

"You are both insane," Nea shakes her head.

Dean has made his way to the food stalls and Kitty comes jogging over to us.

"Kitty, were you and Dean kissing just now?" I ask.

"Yeah, is there something you need to tell us maybe?" Nea grins.

"it turns out Dean missed me when I was in Sulani," Kitty explains, smiling happily. "Really missed me! The moment I walked into the door he... well he kissed me and we haven't really stopped kissing since!"

I am so happy for her, and so is Nea. Even Loki seems to find it adorable.

"You like this Dean?" He asks Kitty. She nods with a blush.

"Then I am happy for you," Loki surprises Kitty with a hug. "And if he sets one foot wrong he will become intimately acquainted with my daggers," he whispers in Kitty's ear.

I decide to go and have a word with Dean myself.

"Hi, hello Dean, how are you?" I smile at him.

"Eh, fine, I guess," he answers a bit confused.

"I know at least twelve different ways to kill someone with a spoon," I say conversationally.

"That seems oddly specific," Dean frowns, "and a strange way to start a conversation."

"Break Kitty's heart or hurt one hair on her head, and you'll become familiar with at least a few of them," I say pleasantly. "I know you Winchester boys have a habit of returning from the dead. But I have a lot of spoons."

As far as threats go, it's probably not the best, but I've never been all that good at one-liners.

"Hey now, you listen to me! I like Kitty! I would never do anything to hurt her okay!" Dean protests. "Besides that, I can't see it being any of your business."

"Kitty is one of my two best friends, that MAKES it my business," I snap back.

Loki, in the meantime, sees me chatting with Dean and is reading the conversation I am having with Dean completely wrong. Only seeing my pleasant smile he suspects I am flirting with Dean and he flies into a rage!

Loki is quick to come over and starts picking a fight with Dean!

Kitty realises nothing good can come out of it and rings a cab, while I try to calm Loki down.

Loki is far too angry to listen.

"It wasn't like that Loki, I would never hurt you! I don't even like Dean! Besides that, even if I wasn't with you I'd never flirt with my best friend's boyfriend!" I try to explain.

I am starting to feel very tense as I try to find a way to diffuse the situation.

Nothing I say or do can get Loki to calm down or listen. Angrily he turns his back on me a makes his way to the paintings.

For a moment it looks like he is getting his temper under control...

"Loki!" I yell at him.

"Nea was right! It was a stupid painting anyway!"

"I was a fool for thinking for even one minute that you wouldn't betray me! You are just like the others!"

"Loki! Stop this! Destroying the festival will only draw unwanted attention! Do you WANT the Avengers to show up here? I DON'T like Dean, I wasn't flirting and to be honest you should know me better by now! You are being mean and horrible and it is not fair to anyone here!"

Loki deflates. Without a word, he floats towards the taxi rank.

"I'd better go," I say to Nea. "He can't leave without me. I'm so sorry it became such a mess."

"Are you okay?" Nea asks.

I look sadly in Loki's direction.

"I don't know. I hope we can fix this once he calms down a bit."

"Hey, if you need me, I'm only a call or a DM away," she says as she gives me a hug.

Loki doesn't say anything on the way home. He stares pointedly out of the window.

When we come home he disappears into the basement.

Neither of us had anything to eat all evening and I decide to make him some food as a peace offering. He must be hungry too!

Loki pretends to be asleep with his back towards me. I can see he is feeling blue.

I call his name a few times, but he ignores me. I leave the plate on the table for him, just in case.

That night, we both sleep alone...

[simpxxstan]

perfect complements (ch. 4)

pairing: professor!seungcheol x professor!f.reader

genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, angst, smut

series summary: four and a half years of working together breeds familiarity, resentment, and everything in between. it's almost like living together.

series word count (till current chapter): 10.4k

chapter word count: 3.1k

rating: 18+

warnings: slight bickering, description of makeout between seungcheol and oc (not with reader) and vague descriptions of fingering. curse words being used.

a/n: i'm sorry for the late update! i've been going through a hard time these few days, but i'm trying to distract myself! this is a filler chapter ig? i'm sorry if it's taking too long for any action between the reader and coups to start, but i really want to build the story up. it's slow burn for a reason hehe thank you so much for reading! <3

taglist for the fic: @minhui896

series masterlist

Seungcheol’s phone pops up with a notification as he makes his way to Dr. Lee’s chambers. He knows you’ve already been here once before, but he has actively avoided the staffroom all day so that he doesn’t get caught in your and Minhee’s crossfire again. It’s best for him to keep his distance when you’re pissed. He knows, no matter what the reason, you’ll end up bursting at him.

“Hello, Prof. Choi. How are you today?”

“Same as usual, I guess. I can’t believe it’s Valentine's Week already.”

Dr. Lee laughs, their laugh slightly whimsical but purposeful. Seungcheol feels oddly comforted by the Counsellor but also a little nervous. He’s being constantly analysed, and it’s not a good feeling. But they know how to get him at ease too. 

“Why? Is Valentine’s Week important to you?”

“Aah well. If I don’t tell you, she will. It reminds me of what happened the first February I was here.”

Seungcheol had absolutely no clue what was going on in college. Perhaps being away from the dating market for so long had made him forget all about this. Plus, his mind was all caught up with the conference. It was the first time he was getting to organise something in this college, and as a new Professor, he had to impress everyone. He had the crazy urge to prove himself worthy of the post: many had said he was too young for it, but he was determined to prove them wrong. So when Prof. Y/L/N had offered that the two of you take up the duties this time to organise the department’s Annual Winter Conference, he had readily taken up the opportunity. 

Of course, everything was fine with Prof. Y/L/N now. You had explained to him that you were having a shitty day and couldn’t control your emotions, given your periods had been giving you hell, and the very day after that, you had both gone to watch the new play being performed by the University’s Drama Club, together. Along with a lot of laughs and a lot of meaningful conversations, Seungcheol had hoped he had made his first friend in University. The academic atmosphere had daunted him at first, since he was the youngest, but seeing you had made him braver. He had someone by his side to help him, instead of judging him. 

It also helped that he found you unimaginably beautiful. 

Seungcheol was, by no means, an innocent boy. Yes, he hadn’t dated properly for very long, but he was no playboy either. He liked to keep his commitments minimal, given that most of his 20s had been spent cooped up in the library, drowning in coffee and real analysis theorems. He had enjoyed pursuing academics, but it had effectively stolen his social life from him. His romantic life, too. His love life had ended with his undergraduate course, and since then, he had been happily married to his thesis. 

Except, now. Now, things were different. Because you had entered his life. Not just that, Seungcheol had found himself economically and socially stable after several years. He could finally spend time with his family, live in his own rented apartment, take care of his pet dog as he liked, and eat out almost twice a week, and still have enough money to indulge in a new game being released at the end of the month. Meeting you at this perfect time made him want to go all in, and take his chances at love. After all, he was twenty seven now. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again, would he?

Naturally, he couldn’t give up on the chance to co-convene the conference with you this year. He really respected you- both from a professional point of view, and personally; well, as much as he did know about you. It wasn’t much, you weren’t a great oversharer, but there was one thing that he knew for sure- he enjoyed spending time with you, and he was looking forward to meeting you every day. 

“Seungcheol! You’re here. Are we good to go? I think the guest speakers are about to arrive in a few minutes!” You were smiling nervously, but still looked incredibly put together. Your hair was tied up in a bun, revealing your soft cheeks and the new earrings you had donned just for the event. This was the first time he was seeing you wear a dress, and he could feel himself tipping a little more into this mini project of his. 

“Y/N, please don’t worry! I’ve got the volunteers briefed, and everything will work like clockwork.”

_

Unfortunately for Choi Seungcheol, everything did not work like clockwork.

It was the last hour of the conference, the time for the students to gather in a group discussion moderated by the two of you, and discuss your findings, thoughts and questions about the presentations and papers presented by the various guests of the day. With the majority of the workload done, and surrounded by familiar faces, Seungcheol felt much relaxed, and had rolled up his sleeves and settled down into a chair for the first time that day. After running around all day, this informal session felt like a blessing. 

You sat down next to him, and all the other students settled down in a scattered, approximate circle. The flow of the conversation began easily, with you smiling and picking up the pace. The students, eager and wide-eyed, kept chattering, and the enthusiasm reminded Seungcheol of himself. The discussion was largely informal, and it felt like a group of likeminded people sitting together, not a hierarchical group of students and professors. It was an atmosphere that made him very happy. 

Of course, it also made him very happy that you seemed to be more and more comfortable with him as the day passed by. It manifested in little things, but they were enough to make Choi Seungcheol feel giddy like a schoolboy again. Like how you keenly listened to his comments, and appreciated his thought process. How you contributed to every discussion he initiated, how you ensured he didn’t get left out in the discussions. How you touched his hand once while asking him about something. How you unintentionally (or intentionally?) stared for a second too long at him, and he had caught you in the act. 

It was an extremely successful day, he concluded, and he went home feeling the happiest he had been in recent times. He had felt included in the University community, and that was what he had truly wanted for all these days. It felt so relieving. 

But all that was going to change the next morning. 

He arrived at college in a happy mood, not realising why suddenly there was a galore of roses being carried around the college campus by students. He grabbed his usual Americano from the canteen, before making his way to the staffroom, delightfully greeting every student and professor he met on the way. The campus seemed to be bursting with energy today, but he simply couldn’t realise why. Not that he cared. He was just as energetic today-

“Care to explain this, Prof. Choi?”

You’re standing there, hands on your hips, Wonwoo, the Dean from Social Sciences next to you, and the other professors of the department also in that room. He can’t make out what’s written in the letter that you’re holding up, but as he steps closer, he can see it:

CHEOLLIE AND Y/N SITTING ON A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

Below the words, there were small roses drawn and pictures of iconic scenes from the k-drama, ‘Boys Over Flowers’ stuck on the page. 

“What’s this?” He asked, still clueless. Wonwoo stepped up, and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s the first day of Valentine’s Week. Someone left this on Y/N’s desk…” 

The dots finally connected in Seungcheol’s head. The students had… shipped them? It was surprising, funny but extremely absurd. He had the urge to laugh it off, but then he stopped himself seeing the furious look on your face. He realised it had offended you in some way, although he saw it as a joke. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N… I don’t know-”

“Do you realise how unprofessional this is? How desperate this makes me look?”

“Desperate?”

“Of course they thought a woman would fall in love with the first man they saw entering the campus. It’s disrespectful, Choi Seungcheol, do you not see that?”

“I think it’s not as big as you think. It’s just a joke by the students-”

“Joke? Wonwoo, please explain to him.”

Wonwoo enlarged his eyes, but quickly took the signal and asked Seungcheol to step out with him. 

“I swear I didn’t do anything!”

“I know Seugncheol. I’ve known you for long enough to know you’re not dumb to seduce your colleague. But everyone can see your crush on Y/N.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to finally be shocked. “What? It’s really nothing like that!”

“Okay. Even if I accept what you’re saying… I’m not saying you’re at fault for this. Kids pull this kind of prank all the time. They shipped me and another Professor from the Linguistics department for years, before everyone got to know that she was gay and I was marrying someone else. But I understand why Y/N may feel sensitive about these things. All I’m suggesting is-” he raised his hand to prevent Seungcheol from cutting in, “keep a little bit of distance? Until the rumours die out and she feels comfortable again. We can’t have a hostile environment in the department, can we?”

_

Seungcheol chuckles at the end of the story. 

“Look where we are now.” 

He had recounted almost all of the incident with Dr. Lee, albeit not going into too much details about his love interest in Prof. Y/L/N.

“It’s a very interesting story, I must say,” Dr. Lee had a smile of their face as well, seeming quite amused by the narration. “So you liked her?”

“A little. Quickly snubbed out, as you can make out. After these things, I kept my distance, and obviously, whatever inkling of… feelings had emerged… died out. I was back to neutral within a few weeks.”

“And what about your friendship?”

“Friendship?”

“Your relationship. Did it ever go back to normal? As it was before this thing?”

Seungcheol pauses. He’s not quite sure. Perhaps because it’s been so long, and he has largely forgotten? He doesn’t know how exactly the relationship would have been even if the incident hadn’t happened. There would be other things to destroy it, of course, as time had shown. 

“I don’t think so. But then, it’s hard to define normal. We were friendly, like new colleagues who instantly don’t hate each other are. But since then, as we worked together for longer, and as my… emotions became absolutely neutral, we discovered irks in each other pretty soon. We never ended up being as friendly as then, again. I don’t think we would’ve been anyway.”

“And if she had liked you back?”

He doesn’t know what to say. He prefers not to think about it, a situation he could envision in only an alternate, distant universe. 

“She could never.”

It’s the truth. He knows it’s best not to lie to Dr. Lee. 

_

Valentine’s Week is one of the few weeks in the year when the entire city is bustling. There’s the excitement of new love, hope of requiting crushes, and the thrill of the chase, all punched together. It’s also the beginning of spring, and Kkuma, on such days, really enjoys walking through parks, running in fresh green grass dazzling with dew, and making Seungcheol run after her. 

Today, she’s dressed up with tiny pink clips sparkling in her carefully trimmed white hair. Today, Seungcheol isn’t running behind her. He’s instead sitting on the bench, surfing through his phone, as Kkuma runs small laps around him. There’s no chance of her straying away, she’s too dependent on him for survival and she loves being spoilt. 

“Oppa?”

Seungcheol looks up from his phone to see Hyerin standing in front of him, dressed in tracks. Running in the park, clearly. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you came to the park?”

“I came here for Kkuma-ya. You?”

“Can't go to the gym these days. So I’ve switched to running. Mind if I join you?” Seungcheol shifts up on the bench, and Hyerin flops down on it, next to him. “Tired? Take a sip from my Americano-” he brings the coffee to her lips, and she sucks in through the straw. “Aah, too much ice!” He giggles, before taking a sip himself. “I like it this way. You don’t have to drink it.” “Yaah! Oppa!” She snatches it a bit, sips again, and puts it back in Seungcheol’s hands. 

“Do you want to get breakfast?”

She smiles, “I thought you’d never ask.”

_

Breakfast becomes another walk along the sunny streets of Seoul, which turns into grabbing beer before lunch, and after another hearty meal at a street food fair, Seungcheol finally takes Hyerin home. They’d been stalling it for long enough, he thinks, and he definitely does like her a lot. Better to settle down with her than any other random woman his mother decided to set him up on a blind date with. 

“Kkuma’s watching us,” Hyerin whispers breathlessly, panting between kisses, as she leans away from Seungcheol’s body to look at the small dog sitting far away from them but still with her eyes fixed on the two of them. 

Seungcheol laughs. “See? This is why I told you Kkuma doesn’t like it when I bring over girls.” 

“But she’s okay with you bringing over your colleague from work?” Hyerin doesn’t sound jealous, she’s too busy unbuttoning Seungcheol’s shirt. “Kkuma wasn’t at home then. My brother had taken her away for the day.” “Lucky woman, your colleague.” And her mouth is back on his, and they slobber around, making out furiously, even while the sun still shines on them from the open windows. Seungcheol’s hands grab her waist tightly as he lifts her up. He then moves away from couch and slowly makes his way to the bed, not leaving Hyerin’s mouth even once. When he’s finally laid her down on the bed and taken off her pants, the phone in the back pocket of his jeans rings. He’s tempted to ignore it, more interested in Hyerin’s bloodshot eyes staring at him hungrily and the way she’s reacting to his hands stroking over her thighs. But the phone keeps ringing, and the sound is annoying, so he takes out the phone to turn off the volume. 

Except he sees the name tag. 

It’s you. 

“Hello?” Seungcheol can hear Hyerin gasp in frustration, but he can’t help but take the call. He knows you never call him unless it’s an emergency, so this must be serious. 

“Prof. Choi? This is Prof. Y/L/N.” 

“Yes I know. What is it?” 

“Am I disturbing you? Your voice sounds curious and Seungcheol gets pissed at the stalling. “Yes, could you please tell me why you called?” “Sorry about that then, I’ll be quick. It’s just that-” “Yes?” “Hey, why so impatient?” “Prof. Y/L/N, it’s a Sunday. I’m busy, I have a personal life as well. Now could we please get on with this quickly?” 

“Prof. Choi, you know about the upcoming seminar in Singapore that our department was taking the UnderGrad students for? For the annual field trip?”

“Yes?” 

“And you know how Minhee was going to come along with me for the trip?”

“I do know that.” 

“Well, her sister’s getting married that weekend. We just got to know, I swear!” 

“We?” Seungcheol feels so lost in this conversation. 

“Yeah, well, Minhee and I. We’re actually hanging out together, right now.” “Okay? And why are you suddenly telling me about Minhee’s sister’s wedding?” “Oh, just that. Wonwoo asked me to ask you, if you’d like to come along. Minghao is really busy for that weekend with meetings for his America thing, so I really had no option but to ask you.”

There’s a very loud pause. Seungcheol is facing away from Hyerin, but he can hear her breathing clearly in the silence. She’s real sweet, waiting patiently for him to finish the call, even if he’s left her without any context.

“You can’t go alone?”

“I did tell Wonwoo I’d go alone, I am literally 33. He said no, it’s not nice to send just one professor when they’ve already made arrangements for two.”

“Can’t we send one of the PhD students? They’ll get good exposure too.”

“There are over 30 kids. Not sure how much exposure a PhD student can get from handling kids-”

“Kids who are all in their 20s. This isn’t a kindergarten field trip.”

“I’m just telling you what Wonwoo would say. I know it because I’ve suggested these exact same things to him as well.”

Another pause. Seungcheol can hear Hyerin touch herself, the sounds giving it away. He turns around and sees his suspicions confirmed. It’s an irresistible sight, her eyes closed in focus, and with the afternoon sun falling on her skin, she does look heavenly. 

Fuck you for keeping him away from this delight.

He steps closer to Hyerin, and joins her, taking her by surprise. She moans, and he hopes you weren’t able to hear it.

“Listen. I’ll let you know if I can make it. But I don’t think I’ll be free next weekend, so don’t count on me-”

“Wonwoo asked me to tell you that this would be the last step to our ‘therapy’ thing. I may have blackmailed him into agreeing to this, because he forced me to call you up.”

Seungcheol can’t focus on the phone call anymore, not with the pretty sounds Hyerin keeps muffling up, but this perks his attention. Freedom from that bullshit finally. He’d been tired of turning up to the Counsellor’s office and getting analysed by their squinty little eyes. Especially when you both had to attend together. It was getting embarrassing now, as students across the university heard rumours about this therapy thing. It was bad enough that everyone knew how much you two dislike each other. Even worse now that they thought you both needed couples’ therapy to get over your petty fights. 

Damn Wonwoo for being a smartass. Seungcheol has known this since childhood but he keeps falling for his moves each time. He can never win against Wonwoo.

“Seungcheol? Are you still there?”

“Okay Prof. Y/L/N.”

“Huh?”

“I said okay. I’m in. For the next weekend. Bye now.” Thank god he has Hyerin falling apart on his touch right now, before his mind twists and falls into a trap, thinking about the potential dangers of what he just agreed to.

“Oppa! I’m- I’m- aaah!” Hyerin’s voice is loud, and he sinks headfirst into her. “I’m here, princess. Oppa’s right here.”

[fullstcp]

"stages" by Cassadee Pope Sentence Starters

TAKE YOU HOME

"I wanna know everything."

"I've got all night long."

"Are you tryna to be someone for someone?"

"You remind me of where I come from."

"I wanna take you home."

"I ain't tryna jump the gun."

"I sure ain't trying to make you run."

"The second I saw you, I knew I had to get you alone."

ONE MORE RED LIGHT

"Guess the going out's supposed to be over."

"Since we said hello, time's been flying."

"Let's keep it going, take another lap around this town."

"I just wanna drag it out."

"Let's take the long way home."

"Let's find one more red light."

"Who cares if we hold up a little bit of late night traffic?"

"I'm down to take our time."

HOW I FEEL RIGHT NOW

"Life's got seasons."

"You've got my temperature rising."

"That's just how I feel right now."

"I ain't tryin' to brag but I can't help myself."

"You got me flying high right now."

"Tomorrow might be different I might come back down."

"I'm more than okay."

"You gave my story a twist."

"One kiss and you flipped the script."

BRING ME DOWN TOWN

"I used to get dressed up for you."

"You were the center of my plans."

"I had nothing but love for you."

"Everything's changed since you've been gone."

"You used to be my favorite place."

"I need somewhere new to do my drinking."

"It's hard to believe I used to call you home."

IF MY HEART HAD A HEART

"If my heart had a heart it would show me some mercy."

"Let me forget you and let me let go."

"If my heart had a heart it would stop loving you."

FYI

"It's been a while since I thought about you."

"I'm sure you think about me all the time."

"I don't think you'd like how he/she/they was/were looking at me."

"Said if he/she/they kissed me that it wouldn't be cheating."

"You can run with it, do with it whatever you like."

"It's just an FYI."

"Don't get me wrong, I don't want him/her/them anymore."

"You can't expect me to sit back and bite my tongue."

"I don't got a motive."

"I thought you should know this."

"You're not the only one on his/her/their mind."

"It's not my problem anymore."

DISTRACTED

"Sorry, gonna have to get you to repeat what you just said."

"I wasn't listening."

"I was too busy wondering where you're gonna take me next."

"I got my head up in the clouds."

"You got me distracted."

"I got a one track mind when you're looking at me."

"I can't look away."

"That face got me held captive."

DON'T ASK ME

"I miss you."

"I still think about us."

"I listen closer every time your name comes up."

"I could say I'm doing alright."

"You know it when I lie."

"Don't ask me if I missed you."

"Don't even question if I still question the way that we left everything."

"My answer may not be the one that you want it to be."

"If you don't wanna know, don't ask me."

"I don't wanna have to tell you I'm going through hell."

"I don't think I could bring myself to wish you well."

STILL GOT IT

"Didn't think I'd run into you."

"Life is good, doing fine, how have you been?"

"I see you got a couple new tattoos."

"You look in my eyes and I go back in time."

"I got a confession to make."

"If you want it, you still got it."

"I'm still into you after all this time."

I'VE BEEN GOOD

"I've been good at drinking whiskey."

"I've been good at staying busy."

"I've been good at doing everything and anything to keep from getting over you."

"I've been good at looking people in the eye and saying I've been good."

"The truth is I've been hurting."

"I just keep going through the motions and never let it show."

[chloecherrysip]

As you might have gathered from my frenzied posts yesterday, ya girl saw the Mario Movie for the second time on Thursday, and I have some additional thoughts! I already rambled on about the brothers' reunion AT LENGTH but let's actually talk about some other things (but also still a LITTLE BIT about that here too because I literally cannot be stopped).

Most importantly, I feel like I have had a big change of heart about the movie - in a good way! :)

So I had bought this Thursday ticket first before I made the really impulsive decision to go to a midnight showing on Tuesday, and I kept the ticket because I wanted to see what I would think a second time (and there were obviously some favorite moments that I really wanted to watch again). But I came out of the first showing so conflicted that I was like: "Am I even going to have that much fun at a second showing? Will I be a little bored sometimes?" (Plus, I was having the worst headache yesterday and just not in the best mood in general lolol)

And it was so, so MAGICAL

I think my first viewing experience was weird because 1) I was anxious and way overhyped 2) It was late at night and I was TIRED and 3) I found myself SO distracted throughout the movie because my brain was busy trying to redefine expectations as things went on, to the point that the whole end battle was extremely fuzzy to me because it was just SO DIFFERENT from what I'd been thinking it would be and my sleepy brain didn't know how to reconcile it. This time, I went in knowing exactly what the movie was going to be and what I could expect, and I just??? had the best time imaginable??? I was SO happy the whole way through?????? Literally enthralled and delighted and smiling to the point that my face hurt all over again???

Like, just to be clear, the problems I've already gone on about are still problems at the end of the day -- but truthfully, I care about them a lot less now. At the end of the day, this movie is beautiful, has heart, and keeps you interested, and just having gotten that out of a mario movie after all this time is really special to me. I do genuinely think that if you felt conflicted and disappointed after your first viewing, you should watch the movie again and see how you feel a second time around, because shedding all those expectations and going in without all that hanging over me just made for an absolutely wonderful experience that I'll remember for a long time!

Part of that too is the crowd I saw it with! At my midnight screening, there were obviously no kids and everyone was a little subdued. This time, there was a good number of kids, and man, they were having such a good time. The dad/daughter duo sitting beside me laughed SO many times and it was delightful (she was SO excited at the Mario Kart stuff).

And there was APPLAUSE at the end! That by itself is always a magical experience to me at the movies when people clap at the end because it's just such a pure expression of happiness (since there's no live performance and the clapping is to no one's benefit, lol). And then as I was walking out, there were these little boys excitedly talking about how the movie was a "5/5!!!" for them and....man, I don't know. The universe likes to give gentle reminders that sometimes things are just Not That Deep and it's okay to be a little less cynical and a little more generous. (But I will still complain a LITTLE below, haha.)

ANYWAY, THAT'S ENOUGH MUSING, HERE ARE SPECIFIC THOUGHTS:

The significance of the Nintendo logo sequence being retro Mario and Luigi together at the very beginning :) :) :)

Didn't even realize the first time that Mario doesn't just instinctively stick his arm out in front of Luigi protectively during the dog scene, he ALSO does it when Spike stands up from the table, even though Spike's only focused on Mario at that point!!!! Something I really wanted from the Brooklyn scenes was to see that protectiveness and care in Mario's body language for Luigi right from the start, and they do SUCH a good job at that, like more than I could have hoped for. It's a reflex for him! When there's even the slightest whiff of danger, you can see Mario's thought process go straight to "keep Luigi behind me, make sure he stays safe" and I loveeee

Luigi is such a mama's boy! ❤️❤️❤️ Bragging about her liking their commercial so genuinely! They also have a cute, subtle moment when he's trying to get some food at the dinner table and everyone's talking over him/not listening but his mom brings him a bowl and gives him a little, soft pat on the shoulder, it is adorable.

(Also Luigi getting swept up in the moment and dropping the "mic" but it's his phone and he breaks it continues to be just...such a good character moment. He is so wonderful throughout the beginning of the movie and I just want so much more of him in the sequel, please ;; )

JUST THE FAMILY STUFF IN GENERAL IS GOOD AND SURPRISINGLY SUBTLE AND REALISTIC????

Like, they could have gone REALLY broad with it and just made their parents horrible people if they wanted to do a "Mario has Dad Issues" plot but like, it's very clear that there's a LOT of love and care in that household! Along with a healthy dose of dysfunction, of course, but that's every family, haha. And honestly, their dad reminds me of my dad, who is a wonderful person BUT can also make really insensitive comments without realizing or just simply be really judgmental if one of his kids makes a choice he wouldn't personally make. It's still weird that they actually have a big family in this version of canon (if they live in the Mushroom Kingdom at the end of the movie, do they still go back and visit home all the time? Is it tough to be literally a world away from your parents??? I AM INTRIGUED BY THAT) but I can get behind it, haha.

In one of my other posts, I wrote that it looked like Mario and Luigi were the babies of the family, but there actually is a much younger kid at the dinner table, I realized - i think it's a little girl in a baseball cap who's maybe 7 or 8? Probably their cousin? She seemed very, VERY bored with everything going on. Also, for a split-second at the end, you can see her recording what's happening with her phone/taking a selfie XD I want to know more about this mystery kid and Mario and Luigi's relationship with them, haha.

Also, to go back a little, that construction site parkour scene had a lot more to it than I remembered! Mario doesn't just open the gates for Luigi - he also knocks down a ladder for him, throws down a piece of material for him to be able to run over a gap, and I think some other things too. Back to my original point about how no matter what's going on or how caught up he is, what his brother needs is always such a critical part of his thought process ❤️

I LOVED THE MARIO AND PEACH STUFF SO MUCH MORE THIS TIME???? There still isn't enough by far, but I was just so much fonder of their little moments. The "you're just trying to make me feel better" "is it working?" "a little, yeah" exchange was CUTE. Also, I kind of adore that Mario improves but doesn't ACTUALLY finish the training course (which feels realistic in such a short timeframe) but Peach sees that he's really trying and that's all she needed to know, that he was serious and had the determination to give it his all. :)

ALSO I love when Mario looks very nervous right before his fight with DK but he and Peach lock eyes and she gives him a determined smile and nod and that helps him.

(ALSO x 2, when Bowser breaks out of the ice at the wedding, Mario and Peach are holding hands very sweetly!!! I want to know what they were saying to each other at that point! She was probably SO relieved to see that he was alive and all right, ahhhh)

PEACH'S WEDDING DRESS IS ABSOLUTELY STUNNING, MAYBE A CONTROVERSIAL OPINION BUT THE ODYSSEY DRESS COULD NEVER!!!

I have ALWAYS loved the idea of Peach's eventual wedding dress having pink elements throughout (even in the veil!!) because it's her signature and this dress DID and I was so endlessly delighted, can't WAIT to see all the details more in super high quality screenshots

ALSO THE WEDDING SCENE IS GENERAL IS SO GOOD??? I TRULY THINK THE WAY THEY STRUCTURED THIS SCENE AND PEACH'S CAPTURE WAS INCREDIBLY SMART???

I knew it was basically a foregone conclusion that Peach would be taken captive at some point because that is SO iconic, but I truly thought they would play it out more traditionally where Mario comes to her rescue. And the fact that they don't even go NEAR that idea, Mario doesn't even KNOW anything about what's going on her and she's on her own with Toad, and she just!!! handles the situation!!! she takes Bowser out (temporarily) and does everything she can to save the prisoners and I just loved that they were able to have it both ways while still letting her be TRULY badass instead of just paying lip service to the idea without ever following through

THE FINAL BATTLE IN BROOKLYN...HIT SO MUCH HARDER FOR ME THIS TIME...AND NOW I LOVE IT

I was just so bewildered the first time I saw the movie by the twist but this time, i was 100% IN THE MOMENT and let me tell you, Mario being all bruised and scared and then seeing himself and Luigi on the cracked television...my goodness, I genuinely teared up. I'm tearing up now thinking about it!!

IN GENERAL: THE WAY THEY BALANCE BOWSER'S HUMOR WITH SOME EXTREMELY MENACING, SCARY STUFF IS SO GOOD

I love that you're laughing at him and then suddenly, he just does something CRUEL and TERRIFYING and ESSENTIALLY PSYCHOPATHIC (even the little things like intentionally crushing Kamek's hands in the piano and making him keep them there!!) and you're scared of all him all over again

I know, I know, I already spoke about Mario and Luigi's reunion AT LENGTH, but I got one more thing -> it is genuinely SUCH a relief that Illumination did not go for the cheap "wow how embarrassing when men show emotion!" joke. in fact, not only did they avoid any joke like that, they went as far in the other direction as I think you could possibly go????? Like, seriously, I wanted FEELINGS here and the fact that it even blew ME away how tender and loving their whole exchange is really says something!!! I WILL LITERALLY TALK ABOUT THE FACE HOLDING AND THE FOREHEAD TOUCHING FOREVER, THEY ARE THE SWEETEST BROTHERS OF ALL TIIIME

Finally, I am STUPID because I genuinely walked away from the movie the first time with the impression that the worlds were permanently merged together at the end??? But after reading other people's summations of the ending, that's clearly not the case and Mario and Luigi just live in the Mushroom Kingdom now, whoops, haha. (I would be interested to know how far in the future that scene is!! I assume it would take some time to make that decision and that they weren't like "yeah, let's just immediately leave behind everything we've ever known and our whole family for a place we've spent a couple of days in" lol)

And also a quick list of some things that I'm still annoyed about because, well, it can't ALL be good:

The 80's music didn't bother me originally BUT it's starting to come to light now that the soundtrack is out that there are full, finished, AMAZING tracks that just aren't in the movie and it's pretty clear they sync up really well with those scenes???? SO IT DEFINITELY SEEMS LIKE THE ORIGINAL INTENTION WAS TO NOT HAVE ANY OUTSIDE MUSIC BUT SOMEONE HIGHER UP DID SOME MEDDLING AND GOT THEM ADDED AND THAT IS INFURIATING. And you can totally tell!!! WE NEED A VERSION OF THE MOVIE WITH ALL THE ORIGINAL TRACKS PUT BACK IN FOR SURE

It continues to feel like there are whole scenes/parts of scenes just missing from the movie! FOR INSTANCE: it seems like a MAJOR plothole that Toad was captured alongside Peach but then he's just...walking around freely? Able to get her a bouquet with the ice flower??? I feel like something was missed there. I really do wonder if there's like 10-20 minutes of footage/potential footage that was mercilessly cut for time. Will we ever see some of it (maybe on the blu-ray)? Will it be lost to time/Nintendo's vault forever? SOMEONE LEAK THE FORBIDDEN SCENES :(

Speaking of, RIP "I'm not afraid! I'll do anything for my brother!" I WILL ALWAYS MOURN YOU AND LOVE YOU AND WONDER WHEN YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN SAID IN THE MOVIE

Guys. The slow motion. WE GET IT. It's funny the first couple of times, but by the fifth time, it's SO OLD.

Also, I continue to desperately wish that the Luigi rescue at the end felt more earned. It's SO good but it needs one more beat! One more realization! One more character moment! SOMETHING! :( :( :( :(

I had ANOTHER idea about how they could have sold this more and even tied it back to an earlier moment in the movie. When the scene cuts to Luigi in the dumpster watching Mario fight, frame what he's seeing so that it reminds him of being babies on the playground again, but now Mario's where Luigi was!!! And Bowser's the bully!!! And his brother needs him just as much as Luigi needed Mario back then!!!! You wouldn't even need any dialogue - just let the shot LINGER on Luigi and give us a tiny bit of that flashback intercut one more time alongside his changing expressions! It would be SO simple but I think it'd be effective AND give that earlier flashback more reason to be there in the first place (as adorable as it is).

OK I'VE TALKED ENOUGH

[elizabethplaid]

a fair number of notes - june 19th, 2024

-- Good counseling session today. Relayed some of the theories and conversations I've had with my dad and phone-friend. She noted that I expressed a lot less guilt than I used to, in previous years, regarding these "down swings".

-- Dad picked up Rx meds and a Dunkin drink for me. Came home right before counseling started, so I took comfort in my frozen drink.

-- Dad also installed the AC window unit in my bedroom. It was 93F today, so it's been very handy. The hottest it's been otherwise lately were a couple days of 84F.

-- After a post-counseling nap, we went to the grocery store. First time driving the "new" car, aside from just backing up in the driveway. It feels good, spacious; thin seat belt is unnerving.

-- --- Snagged some of my sparkling water and novelty sodas. Our main goal was our usual 2L sodas and a cucumber for pasta salad tonight. Ugh, just realized I forgot to get ice cream.

-- --- Dad messed with the AC controls, within 2 miles of driving home. I didn't say anything to stop him, because I thought we'd be home really quick. Nah, fuckin' distracting. Had to move the vents off me really really quick. I can't remember our exact words, but he apologized for being distracting. I said something to the effect of, "When I'm feeling this bad, pushing myself like this, everything is a distraction."

-- --- Really, I thought I felt okay until the air flow changed. When it did, I realized how thin a grip I had on things. But I had been confident and handled a lot of stimuli very well. And I'm still in good spirits!

-- For this excursion, I felt happy enough to throw on my jewelry, jeans, and one of my new bras. It fits well for the band, but the cups are small and squish me flat. Not bad for a lounging bra, especially for $10. It's comfy enough.

-- --- It's been almost 2 weeks, but I haven't cut off the tags from my new clothe yet. Need to do that and throw them in a load of cold laundry. Need to do laundry in general.

-- --- My goal is to do a bunch of little cleaning chores, bit by bit. Just clean the sink in one visit; clean something else in the next, etc. I'm tempted to make a list, to better organize my thoughts. But I'm already nibbling at things, so... I don't really -need- to make a list.

=========

-- Phone friend is fighting really bad allergies. They work outdoors, and the pollen provoked a really strong migraine. We've already discussed cautions of heat versus meds, staying hydrated, trying to stave off migraines. They've switched to new eye drops, and it seems to be helping.

-- --- Feeling sick and fatigued, we had to cut our last call short, and they skipped some of the morning/evening greetings. They worried about seeming too distant lately, and I'm like...

Really, I've been caught up in my own head, with all my sensory overload stuff. I'm chilling with my own vibes, feeling fine by myself. Never even occurred to me that things could be interpreted as us being a bit distant.

My reaction also reminded me of the apple juice story from Hannibal Buress. "... so caught up in the euphoria...," forgetting the practical reasoning.

I replied, explaining that we're good. I understand when life (and fatigue!) get in the way. I mean, I wanted to cancel this week's call, because my brain isn't good with speaking out loud. (I could hear myself talking in circles, repeating myself last week, because I space-out mid-sentence.)

=====

Anyway, thanks for sticking around reading all these notes. And if you didn't, if you just clicked "like" because you like me, that's fine too.

I started writing these notes for a few specific people, back when I was really depressed and withdrawn. Now, I write them to help me remember what I've been up to lately. As always, I really appreciate your support, friends.

[dilucsflame33]

Hello, everyone!

People are already saying this but Happy New Year's! Hopefully it's not late. 😅

I'm not so sure on what I will do, I usually let things flow. But, right now, I don't know if I will continue writing or write at all. Sometimes I feel like that I could do better and that my writing will never be good enough.

No matter how many people would tell me they love my stories and whatnot, I still feel like I could do better. And i don't want to sound selfish or whatever word you wanna call it, but I just feel like my stories wasn't everyone's favorite sometimes. I know that everyone has their preferences and I understand that. I have to remind myself that I'm still new to this platform and nobody doesn't know me. Heck, I don't even know if anyone even bother on wanting to get to know me. I would love to be friends with everyone and get to know them, but I just don't want to bother anyone.

You're probably thinking, "Why don't you write for yourself instead of others?" I'm a people pleaser, always put others first before my own needs. That's how I am and - apparently - always will be. I just love hearing other people compliment my work and see the talent that I have. Now, my writing feels like a chore. I have requests to finish but I also want to write a series I've been wanting to do since October. I still have three requests from the Christmas event and even felt rushed. I don't like being rushed, yet I have no choice but to slack in my work just to get everything out there.

I don't want to take a break either. I want to do a lot of things but, with the way mental state is heading, I don't have the inspiration to do it. I always get distracted by everything.

I apologize for the rant. I don't like putting my feelings out there. Because I have people in the past don't really care on how I feel. Yet I just feel like I have to, even if no one asked for it.

But I will try to get the requests done some point, just don't give up on me please. I feel like I've already failed, so just give me more time and I'll get it done.

I love you all.

~ Terri

[lapinbunwrites]

Title: Felix's Embarrassing Holiday

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Glenn Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Felix's Hugo Fraldarius' Mother

Characters: Annette Fantine Dominic, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Glenn Fraldarius, Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius' Mother

Additional Tags: Modern AU, AU Where Christmas Exists, Fluff, Comedy, Meeting the Family, Original Character

Word Count: 3,426

Ao3 Link

Felix groaned as he read a text from his mother, she wanted to meet Annette. He always told himself he was never going to tell Rodrigue anything else that happened in his life, but that was never going to happen. Deep down, even though he would never admit to anyone (he barely admits it to himself), he did love his father and did enjoy being around him. While he knew his parents were excited to meet his girlfriend, and Annette felt the same, he did not. Felix knew they were planning something, but he never knew what. He always ended up being unprepared when he was around him and it always gave him whiplash.

He pinched the bridge of his nose before texting his mother back saying that he will think about it, and instead of replying back to her, he just locked his phone and put his phone in his pocket. He walked down the sidewalks in Fhirdiad to find this little shop that his girlfriend wanted him to try out. He knew she loved sweets and she had a knack for finding little places filled with any sort of confection, but he always kept an open mind about them. Annette always found a shop that always served him something he would end up liking. Felix smirked as he peered into the shop's window, looking at Annette as she sipped on her hot chocolate.

"Sorry I'm late," Felix said, wrapping his coat around her shoulders.

"Oh, you're fine," Annette reassured him, clutching his coat. "I got here a few minutes myself."

"You lost track of time, didn't you?" He asked, sitting across from her in the booth.

"Yeah," she squeaked out, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Annette," he said softly, placing his hand on hers. "Do you I need to get you an alarm? You keep drowning yourself in your homework."

"No, please don't" she whined, fiddling with his coat. "It's the end of the semester of my last year of college. I want to make sure I pass and graduate."

"If you don't relax and keep going, you aren't going to run yourself ragged," he reminded her, raising his eyebrow.

"I know, but I can't miss a beat or I will fail," she protested, taking a drink of her hot coco.

"Annette," his voice low and deep that she couldn't resist.

Annette felt her face heat up the moment he spoke her name.

"I can't, in good conscious, allow you to continue to do this to yourself," Felix smiled at her.

"Felix," she tenderly said, placing her free hand on top of his.

He thought for a couple of seconds of plans that they could do to distract her from her studies while she ordered food for the both of them. The only thing that was sitting in the back of his mind that could be a plan was meeting his family, but he knew he was going to regret that. He kept quiet as he drank his coffee, thinking of a million other plans, but they all came back to his family.

"Felix, are you okay?" Annette asked, taking a bit of her strawberry and banana crepe. "You're unusually quiet."

"Yeah, I'm fine," he reassured her, taking a bit of his spicy turkey focaccia sandwich. "I'm just thinking."

"Thinking about what?" She smiled, wiping the chipotle aioli off of his face.

"My family," he offhandedly said, taking her hand off of his skin.

"Oh! Are you finally going to let me meet your parents and your brother!" She chirped placing her hands together.

"Uh, not exactly," he rolled his eyes.

"Felix, I've been asking for this for months," she whined, placing her hands on her lap.

"Annette, it's not like that," Felix said, trying to reassure her.

"Then what is it like?" Annette asked, staring at him with her bluish green eyes.

He sighed, he was not going to win this fight. "Fine, but only if you relax and pull yourself away from your studies more, I will let you meet my whole family."

Annette clapped her hands and cheered.

Felix rolled his eyes as he smiled, but he knew he was going to regret this. He pulled out his phone, texting his mother to set up a date. He groaned when he saw his mother's next text, it was for Christmas.

"What's going on now?" She laughed, shoving the rest of her crepe in her mouth.

"My mother wants you to come over on Christmas," he groaned, falling back into the booth.

"Tpaft's wonpfrul!" Annette chirped, swallowing her food.

"Yeah, wonderful," he laughed, wiping the chocolate off of her face.

"Oh! I'm so excited!" She laughed as he patted her face.

"I know," he smiled, moving his hand back to his lap. "I will let my mother know."

"Thank you! But I need to get back, class is going to start in a few minutes," she gasped as she looked down at her phone.

"Annette," he sighed, pulling the check towards him. "Go."

He smiled as he watched her rush out the door. When he left the shop, everything finally hit him, and it hit like a truck. The meeting was in two days, he completely forgot that it was close. He rushed around town, heading to a couple of different places before heading home. He was grateful that his parents weren't home when he got back, they were they weren't his favorite people at the moment. He smiled when he received a text from Annette, he was relieved to received it from her. Felix stayed up late into the night, messing up his own sleeping schedule to talk to her.

He woke up in the morning, not realizing that he fell asleep with his phone on face. He rubbed his temples, feeling pressure build up. He groaned as he got out of his bed to get ready for the day, he had plenty to do. He sat in the living room, near the Christmas tree, with wrapping paper, scissors, tape, and pre-tied ribbons. He consistently cursed to himself trying to line up the boxes on the wrapping paper as he tried to get it to stay before taping it. The worst part for him was when he taped the corners. He tried multiple times to fold them into perfect triangles, but they ended up into squished, misshapen triangles. He sighed and just put a bow on the rest of his gifts before putting them under the tree.

The rest of his day was spent cleaning and organizing the house. He made sure to find all of the family photo albums and hiding under his bed like he was a horny thirteen year old boy with a porn magazine. Felix looked around the house, trying to find any other embarrassing thing that family might use against him and placing them in his closet in his room. Annette wouldn't go through there right? He could only hope that her curiosity didn't get the better of him and she decided go through his stuff. When he woke up the next morning, the pain in his head only grew worse. It didn't help that his parents were already up.

"Morning, Felix," Rodrigue smiled as he drank his black coffee.

Felix just grunted as he dragged his feet into the kitchen.

"Well, you're in a good mood," Rodriuge said sarcastically. "I hope this isn't the attitude that you aren't going to have when Annette comes over later tonight."

"Sorry, I just have a splitting headache," Felix lied as he put some headache pills in his mouth and washing it down with water.

"Dad, he's stressed about us meeting his little girlyfriend," Glenn teased his brother as he laughed and stretching out his face.

"Stop that you fool," Felix protested, fending off his brother.

"It's so cute to see you in woove!~" Glenn laughed louder as Felix pushed him.

"Oh, do you think we are going to embarrass you?" Emmeline asked, smirking.

"Yes! Yes I do!" Felix declared, trying to go back to his room.

"You are exactly right!" Glenn said with a giant smile, holding Felix by his collar. "And you aren't going anywhere. You're helping mom with cooking and baking this year. It's your turn."

Felix groaned as he stopped fighting his brother.

"I saw that you already grabbed everything," Emmeline said, clapping her hands. "I'm assuming you want to make spicy fish and turnip stew and saghert and cream." a "Yeah, those are a couple of Annette's favorite dishes," Felix murmured, scratching the back of his neck.

"Awe, you're so cute," she smirked, walking into the kitchen. "We better get started, that stew is going to take some time to make."

Felix shook his head as he helped her get out the ingredients. The two barely spoke to each other when they cooked, but it always brought them together. He preferred baking over cooking because when he formed dough, he was able to beat the dough to release his stress and anger. It would also help clear his mind when he baked, nothing seemed to matter. What helped him was the smell of the stew that his mother worked on. Smelling the smokiness of the fish, hearing the bubbling of the stock, hearing the turnips being shaved, made him feel calm. It even made smile. Doing all of this transported him back to his childhood where him, his parents, and Glenn were all together in the kitchen making a giant stew dish with many different vegetables.

Reliving those memories where short lived when he felt his chest tighten up when he heard the doorbell rang. Felix rushed out of the kitchen, tripping over his feet as he tried to get to the door. He felt defeated when he heard Rodrigue's laughter when his father beat him to the door.

"Hello Annette," Rodrigue greeted with a smile. "My wife and Felix are currently making dinner so why don't you come into the living room with me and Glenn."

"Hello! That would be lovely!" Annette chirped as she took off her shoes when she entered the house.

"I'm not in the kitchen," Felix moaned out as he picked himself off the floor.

Annette laughed as she gave him a little peck on his check.

"How are you?" He asked, trying to hide the kiss he gave to Annette.

"Ehuehuehue, look at the two little love birds," Glenn teased.

"Awe, you two are very romantic," Rodrigue teased along with his oldest son. "You two are just like me and your mother!"

Felix did his best to suppress his groans and hide his blushing face. He could feel in his bones that is was going to be a long night.

"Hello," Emmeline greeted with a smile. "You must be Annette."

"Yes, I am!" Annette cheerfully said, turning to face her. "You must be Felix's mother."

"Yes, you can call me Emmeline," Emmeline said, placing her hand on Annette's face to take a good long look at her. "My, you are very cute. No wonder my son fell for you."

"Mother!" Felix growled.

"Oh hush and get back into the kitchen," she said, pushing him. "I have some very important business to take care of."

Felix rolled his eyes as he went back to baking and cooking. He was no longer able to space out again, not when he could hear his family laughing in the background. He could think of the many things they could be saying and none of it was good. He did his best to ignore their laughter as he continued to cook, he was at least prepared with hiding the photo albums and embarrassing childhood items.

"Oh my goodness!" Annette squealed. "He looks so cute!"

"What? What's going on?" Felix said rushing into the living room.

"Felix you look so cute!" She said, showing Rodrigue's phone to him. "I didn't know you had a bowl cut when you were a little ity bity baby!"

"Old man!" He growled, holding a knife up to him. "How did you get that picture? I hid all of our photo albums."

"Felix, I have a phone that I downloaded it to," Rodrigue reminded him, taking the phone from Annette to show her more pictures.

"How? You are the least tech savvy person I even meet?" Felix asked, trying to take the phone from his father only to be fended off.

"Your brother did it for me," Rodrigue said, trying to find a very specific picture. "Glenn, do you know where that picture."

Felix's eyes became wide and he felt so much tension in his shoulders as he rushed to his father to grab the phone. Glenn lightly pushed his younger brother out of to grab Rodrigue's phone. Felix did his best to grab the phone, but by the time he could, Glenn had found the picture of Felix in his emo phase. He was dressed all in black, trying a different hair color, and got a tongue piercing.

"Oh, wow Felix, that is a look," Annette laughed, taking a good long look at him.

"Yeah, I know," Felix groaned. "Being thirteen was a time for me."

"Clearly," she said, handing Rodrigue's phone back to him. "Do you still have the tongue piercing?"

"No, the whole closed up a while ago. You should know this by the amount-" Felix then felt his face begin to heat up again. He was even in on embarrassing himself. "Never mind."

"Hohoho, how far have you guys gotten?" Emmeline teased, smushing Felix's face.

"None of your business!" Felix said, his voice going up an octave.

"Look at you, you're face is so warm!" Emmeline laughed, kissing his forehead. "You are adorable."

"Can we stop now, please?" He asked, his voice going back to normal. "Plus dinner is done."

"Wonderful, what did you make?" Annette asked, taking a hold of his hand. "My mother and I made spicy fish and turnip stew with saghert and cream for dessert."

"Felix, you are so sweet!" She chirped, as he led her into the kitchen.

He grabbed a plate out for her, placing a heaping amount of fish and stew on her plate. He helped her over to the table, moving the chair so she could sit down before placing the plate of food in front of her. Felix grabbed his plate of food, along with dessert.

"Look at them," Emmeline mused, placing her head on Rodrigue's chest. "They are so cute."

"Yes," Rodrigue agreed, hold her tight to his body. "Much like us when were their age."

Emmeline nodded and gave him a kiss.

"Are you guys going to eat or are you guys going to have a mush fest and gross me out?" Felix sneered at them before taking a bit of his food.

"Yes, yes," Rodrigue laughed. "Come on Glenn, you don't want to miss out."

"Oh no, I want to give Annette all the embarrassing stories of when Felix was little," Glenn smirked walking over into the kitchen.

"Be kind on your brother, I think he has had enough embarrassment for the day," Rodrigue smiled, following his lead.

"We'll see about that," Glenn laughed, sitting down at the table.

Over dinner they told stories of their lives, filling the room with laughter and warmth. Rodrigue told how he met Emmeline and how they had Glenn a little younger than they wanted, but saying he was a bundle of joy and by the time Felix arrived, their family was complete. Emmeline even told them Annette about Felix's laugh when he was young. That if she ever she was sad, she would make him laugh, she would feel one-hundred times better. Glenn made it even worse by asking how Annette met Felix. Annette being her, told them that they met in class, or at least in passing. She was running a lot earlier to class than she planned, thinking she was going to be late, bumping into Felix, and dropping all her school supplies to the ground, which included her and Felix.

That probably was the most embarrassing story Felix heard all night. The only way he could get it to stop was to redirect them to the presents. He didn't care if not everyone finished their food, he just wanted to stop the stories. He did not realize that his presents that he bought were wrapped, he remembered that he just put a bow on all of them but one, and that was Annette's. It didn't matter though, he just wanted to get the night over with and go to bed. It would be one more day closer to him going back to college.

Felix sat down on the ground with Annette between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her as Emmeline handed her a gift.

"Thank you," Annette smiled, opening the gift. "Felix look! That little teddy bear that I wanted! The one with the drums!"

"Yes, I know," Felix smiled, giving her a kiss on the back of her head.

"Sorry it's not sewn very well," Emmeline faintly smiled. "If I had more time, and if Felix was more prepared, I would have sewn the teddy bear correctly."

"What? You sewed this yourself?" Annette gasped, holding the teddy bear closer to her heart. "That's amazing!"

"Yes," Emmeline nodded. "Felix showed me a picture of it a while ago and I thought the best gift to give to you on short notice would be that."

"This is a wonderful present," Annette smiled, kissing the teddy bear's nose. "I love it."

"Thank you," Emmeline said, with a giant smile.

Felix smiled as Annette fiddled with the her gift.

They all grabbed their presents, opening one by one. Felix let out one long sigh looking at the 'gift' Glenn gave him. He looked up to Glenn, who had a giant smirk on his face, then threw it at him. After a few choice words they had with each other, they opened the rest of the presents. The one Felix got for Annette was the last to be opened.

"Wow, this is, some good wrapping," Annette teased.

"What like you can do better?" Felix scoffed.

"I can, because I'm a perfectionist!" She laughed.

"Oh, so you finally admit it," he said, tickling her and kissing her.

Annette laughed to the point it started to hurt her side. "Okay! Okay, you win!"

Felix laughed, helping her to sit upright. "I know I do, now please open the present."

Annette excitedly ripped off the wrapping paper to reveal a small box, letting out a gasp from everyone. "Felix! Is this?"

"What?" He asked, taking a few seconds to realize what she was asking. "No, it's not. We are way too young for that."

"Oh, sorry." She sighed, opening the box to see a necklace. "This is so pretty!"

"Yeah, I guess," he muttered, reaching for the jewelry. He unclasped the lock to put around her neck. "I saw you looking at at that shop on our way to Mercedes bakery. I asked the jeweler to replace the gem inside to an emerald since you were born in May."

"It's beautiful, Felix," she smiled, giving him a kiss.

"You're welcome," he said, kissing her back. "It looks very pretty on you."

"Thank you," she said, nuzzling her head in his chest.

"Well, since all the presents are all open," Rodrigue started, picking up all the wrapping paper. "Why don't we go to bed."

"Yeah, it's been a long day," Felix agreed, pushing Annette back.

"Right, I should be going," Annette said, getting up. "My father is probably getting worried."

"Annette, please stay," Emmeline insisted. "It's getting late and you probably live so far."

"It's alright," Annette said, getting her stuff.

"Not a chance," Felix said, holding onto her. "You and I both know you are just going back to your dorm room and study."

She let out a little whimper, knowing he was right. She stayed the night, staying in his room with him. "Hey, Felix?"

"Yes, Annette?" Felix asked, turning over to face her.

"Would you ever want to get married to me?" She asked, moving his long hair out of his face.

"Yes, but in the future," he replied without missing a beat.

Annette gave him one last kiss before laying down on her side. Felix began to fiddle with her hair, humming for her as she blinked her eyes to help her go to sleep. He kissed her head before laying down next to her, wrapping his arms around her before going to bed himself.

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

I am finally able to post up my fic for the NetteFlix Winter Exchange! I got to write this lovely fic for meatsuru on Ao3 and I choose meeting the family prompt that they had and put Felix in yet another stressful situation. I love putting him in situations, he is my favorite little play thing sometimes and it's fun to see him being stressed. This is also featuring meatsuru's version of Felix's mom!

[akai-anna]

Hiya! I'm sure you're already aware, but since your DCMK gift giver dropped out, your gift giver has been switched to me :D How are you doing today?

I have to say, all the platonic relationships you listed out on your form really called to my heart (like the sakura trio, detective boys, mouri family unit, etc etc)! All of those characters are super near and dear to me, and I love seeing them interact ^_^ I noticed you seemed to especially like Vermouth as well--- what do you think of her character? I just think she's like, really cool whenever she appears on screen hehe

Also, I just saw your recent post about the new spy x family chapter--- I'm glad that other people were getting major Detective Conan vibes too, it was so cute! I'm not sure if you're interested in detco fanfiction, but it really reminded me of this really good SpyFam x Detco crossover fic on AO3 called 'Forged', by HikariAA. If Anya was a detective, murder cases would get solved much quicker, wouldn't they?

(In addition, forgive me for snooping through your blog, but I just wanted to ask about how your darling dog is doing now--- the one you mentioned in your other DCMK anon ask. You don't have to answer, of course! Regardless, all the best wishes to you and her.)

Hope you have a great day, and I'm looking forward to working on your gift ^_^ !

OH MY GOSH, HI!!!

Yes, I've been notified of the change, and thus welcome thee, with great enthusiasm! Thank you so much for accepting to be my gift giver so late in the event. *bows*

Thank you, I'm doing well today so far. A bit apprehensive, since I have an interview today, but I'll try to make the most of it. And once I get home I hope to get a few things done that I've been meaning to (but got distracted from gkjnfjkbn). And let me throw back the question at you: how are you doing yourself, lovely? Also, I would like to hear more about what you like about DCMK! Pehaps you could tell me something that you cherish a lot yet feel you don't see enough appreciation for?

A PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP ENTHUSIAST!!! And gosh, I agree so much, THEY ARE SO PRECIOUS, and they are the reason I'm stuck in DCMK. (I am digging myself deeper and deeper into this hole, and enjoying it.) I live for their interactions, be it in fanworks or canon. And you are 100% right: I adore Vermouth! (As I gushed about that in this particular ask, gosh.) But in short: I love how she is a morally grey. The way she can kill and deceive without batting an eye, being very competent too, only to have her 2 little treasures whom she would protect with everything she has, meaning her own life too? I love her. I love her SO MUCH. It's such a shame she appears so little, NOW THAT IS THE CRIME!!! I'd love to see more of her (WHERE IS MY VERMOUTH BACKSTORY- *GETS HIT*)

SPY X FAMILY IS ALSO PRECIOUS TO ME (THE MOST ADORABLE FAKE/FOUND FAMILY EVER, MY HEART), and to see the reference to DetCo in the most recent chapter? My heart absolutely MELTED, to witness two of my eternal favourites fused together. AND I'M VERY INTERESTED IN FANFICTION (in general and for DetCo too), YES, YES, YES. In fact, no day passes without reading a bit of fanfiction, since I tend to read between the time I go to bed and fall asleep. AND I HAVEN'T HEARD OF THAT FIC BUT I'M VERY EXCITED TO CHECK IT OUT NOW!!! (I love recs, I ADORE RECS.) THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! And yes *laughs* Anya would be a great help for sure!

And snooping is more than welcome, feel free to do so in the future, if you want to! AND THANK YOU, fortunately she is doing SO MUCH BETTER, she is not yet fully healed (liver needs lots of time to regenerate), but she is eating with gusto (very good sign) and is more enthusiastic and active (also very good sign)! We are due for a check up in a few weeks, to see if all the medication worked as it should. I forgot to take pictures of her, but have these fairly recent ones (right after she started feeling better) as a treat, of my lil darling. (You have no idea how happy I am to still have her with me, BABY DARLING.)

THANK YOU, AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY TOO!!!

[spoopers-bloopers]

Hi! if you don't mind me asking, what exactly is the Bucket Au?

Hi yeah thank you for asking!!! It's a big thing do I hope you don't mind it'll be a bit of a long answer so I’m just stuffing the ramble under a cut!!

tl;dr I wanted more about it posted but I’m currently at the end of a burn-out so I needed a break, but I had the AU on my mind almost the entire time. Small summary on some context for stuff so far, why it’s called Bucket AU, and some plans and also a mention of some other project.

---

Originally I was going to draw/write more and just let it be found out for itself, but art's been rough lately and Splatoon's an easy distraction. (and a lot less emotionally taxing... listen I love Omori for it but it's a really heavy game to constantly have on mind!) Also, I've been trying to take care of myself more so that means going outside now, haha;; I went on a vacation, even, wow...

So I guess I'll just say the meat of it, Bucket AU is a post good end au where Omori appears and lives with Sunny in the real world. It's actually meant to be a more serious AU that's sometimes funny, sometimes cheesy, sometimes morbid.

The main part of it centers around Sunny visiting Faraway a few months after moving to an apartment. Everyone is back to greet Sunny and meet Omori, and Stuff happens to make this possible. I think I got a good plotline going, it sure will be a useful tool for later.

As for the reason it's named Bucket AU, well, it's full name is "Emotional Support Bucket Omori" because one of my friends likened him to the Bucket from Stanley Parable Ultra Deluxe. If you know you know.

Its back-end is all memes and funnies simply because it's more fun for me (and my friends), I'm not really a serious person so effectively a bunch of it's just going to be light-hearted shenanigans with a character that Isn't Quite Human and kinda lacks a moral compass. I will not hold back when stuff does gets serious, however.

In other words, most of its content is exploring Omori and what he would be if taken out of Sunny's head, with a few twists. Omori just wants to help :)

Everything about it so far is under the "Bucket AU" tag on this blog, and everything story is planned to be accessed through the AO3 fic, even comics. (but they have to take place in the story, so side comics are probably just staying on here.)

So when's more content? Whenever I can finish what I have, honestly it's a huge project that I've already made a bunch of stuff for, but finishing it is incredibly hard with me being... still pretty new to full-on writing. Drafts, drafts, upon drafts just for a few thousand words. Maybe I'll even reach the ten-thousands...

So if any part does finish it will be bigger that what I already have out, longer chapters, more comics, y'know. It’s a skill I’m trying to get better at, it's still something I'm doing in my free time between other projects. In fact I still have a Celeste blog to finish a story for. (and for those of you here from that, I've already written it, I just need to draw it! Asks will be toned down for more "intermission" posts.)

Aaaand I think that's a decent place to leave this ask so feel free to send more if you have more questions, and as a bonus, the more I think about the AU, the more motivated I am, so chat with me about anything on it! I certainly need the reminder... whistle whistle-

[vsnotresponding]

CHAPTER 2 - THE IMITATOR - KARMA

masterpost

I don’t sleep. 

Mind awake in spite of the late hour after what was revealed at the meeting, chest aching in a strange way I struggle to pin down, betrayal and solitude mixing as they so often have these past three months. I squish it in an attempt to eradicate it, but just like the last thousand tries, it doesn’t work. And because the feeling won’t let me sleep, I decide to distract myself with something, anything, to forget the last few hours of my life.

My hand moves to the side of my head on its own, right where my mother’s creation pierces my ear, a painful reminder of her death. I feel the rough stone, once smooth, the skin of my fingertips getting stuck in the little ridges. In the darkness of my study, it weakly lights the book filled shelves from the floor, the mess at my desk, the empty vials on the other side of the room.

I look at the ceiling, my arm now under my head, getting comfortable. The floor is cold, the white marble spotless, but I can see the ancient engravings on the ceiling giving life to the old myths my mom used to tell me. In a way, they calm me down and sadden me at the same time.

I close my eyes.

My breathing is the only thing I hear, the moon bright above in the sky and the palace sleeping. I move my arm in front of my eyes and try to control the rhythm of my breathing, clenching my jaw with my fist closing over my face. I breathe out, shakily.

In the legends she used to tell me, there used to be a creator with the ability to heal the earth with their thought and breathe life back into those about to fall into death’s hands. Plants bloomed where their blood touched the sand, and a once inhabitable island transformed into the wonder it is today. As a kid I admired them, so wise and powerful. I remember thinking that, one day, I’d find the secret to their wonders, promising my mom that, when I did, I’d be able to heal her.

Time’s shown I couldn’t.

I hold back a sob—I miss her.

I shake my head and stand up all too suddenly, the world losing focus for an instant before I’m on my feet and walk to my desk. I don’t have time to cry, to think about her right now. The pain in my chest comes back into my mind before I banish it once again, ignoring it. I move the papers around, trying to create some sense of order: staking the notes I made at the Umar’s on one side and my experiments for the imitators on the other. Everything’s still scattered on the stone surface, but at least I can tell what is what.

I look at my private project pile. In the library of the little palace, I gathered some troubling yet contradictory data about what we know about the Iria’s nature. It all came from old books in ancient ilan, and I don’t yet know what to think about the few bits I managed to translate. Hands tense, I move the stack of books and papers under my desk. It doesn’t matter now that I’m banned from continuing my research.  Out of sight, out of mind, I won’t get the temptation to try to work out how all the pieces fit together.

I let myself fall on the chair after giving the stack a final kick, and organize the rest of the papers: successful and failed experiments, theories, notes, reports... the Iria’s activity graphs, sharp, irregular—they intimidate me. There are no discernible patterns, no correlation with our experiments and tests. Only coincidences.

My mom did not believe in coincidences. 

I untie my hair and let it fall just over my shoulders, moving my head slightly from side to side, the tightness distracting me. I refocus on the numbers and statistics, hoping inspiration will strike. I don’t yet know what we—what I—are going to do with the creator. But I've been put in charge, a trust I don’t exactly want, but that I won’t allow myself to break. He trusts in me to fix this, and I can’t disappoint him. Not again.

This is my last chance to prove myself, I can tell, but of all my work across the last few years, the one I truly think might lead to a solution, is the one inspired by the legend—and the one I’m banned from working on.

I uselessly try fixing my bangs, but they fall once again over my eyes. My elbow moves to rest on the edge of the desk, so my hand can hold my hair back while I read. I manage to stay awake out of practice, thoughts too active to rest. It's a mind-numbing experience I'm too familiar with, tonight's emotions no more than a fading memory in the back of my head, a whisper. 

Luckily, I’m good at keeping this type of thought at bay—it’s the only thing I’ve been doing this past three months.

Sunbeams sneak into my room through the window, last days’ rain finally disappearing, when I remember I should look for Áine to talk to her. Now that I think about it, I’m positive she’s the one that tested the fatir. I quickly stand up ready to get out in her search, some papers falling to the floor, when I stop in my tracks with my hand on the door’s knob.

It might not be the best move, going after her. She’s surely busy, like these past few months. My hand hesitates on the door, maybe I should just let it be. The khadae must have the information too. I should look for him instead.

My eyes fall to my wrinkled shirt, my black tunic on the floor in a bundle. I imagine my hair is an equal mess, my face after not having slept for a few nights. The shahin mentioned something about some Derya emissaries having a meeting with him, the Council, and Sher to talk about my brother's possible engagement.

The shahin would never forgive me if they saw me like this.

I pick the tunic back up and the papers that fell, putting them with some others under my arm. I might need them later.

I don’t see any guards in the hallway. Being in the oldest side of the palace, burrowed into the mountain and cliffs, there’s no need for extreme security here. It’s only once I get to the main area that I start seeing them on each door and window, in every turn of the corridor. I’ve lived here most of my life, and their presence still unsettles me. They look like statues, but their eyes follow my every step as I walk to the royal wing, my head low, posture a mess.

I change fast, efficiently. I wash my face and tie my hair into a too tight little ponytail at the nape of my neck, some locks managing to escape to fall over my eyes. The tunic strangles me, the black stark against the white of my skin and the room—of the palace. It’s just another reminder of my failure. I straighten the collar, which immediately bends, and after getting my papers, I go back to the imitators' wing.

The place has always been unsettling, different from the rest of the palace, like it shouldn't belong. The white marble makes way to gray stone, the impossibly tall columns turning into arches that hold the ceiling and walls partially underground. Sometimes it reminds me of the south side of the island, but today it’s darker. Not even the imitations lighting the hallways with their pale orange light manage to scare the gloom away.

I’m here to talk to Súil, but I find myself looking for Áine everywhere, the place unusually deserted, the labs closed and the studies empty. I don’t see Emhi or Garvan. I remind myself that neither of them was at the meeting.

Thinking about it, logically, it makes sense that most of them are watching the creator. I undo my steps to the wing’s entrance, where one of the door to the catacombs is located, guarded by two imitators that watch me approach them. I’m about to ask them to open the door when I hear steps behind me, my brother’s voice resonating on the stone walls.

“I wouldn’t bother.”

The imitators bow before their prince, and I look away while he tells them to rest. I’m used to how they treat us differently. Sher inspires respect and trust, he flows in conversation, charming everyone. And then there’s me, set aside into the background, now more than ever. It might have mattered to me, once, you could even say I was jealous, but not anymore. Feeling like that won’t help me carry out my duty, or keep the promise I made to my mom.

“Follow me.” Sher’s talking. The guards have disappeared into the whiteness of the palace, their golden cloaks shining at their backs. I look at him, unmoving, attempting to look much surer of myself than I really am. Unconsciously, I straighten my back and raise my chin. He only smirks and starts walking towards the studies.

I follow him after a pause. This is an opportunity, I tell myself. We rarely talk alone.

When I catch up to him, he’s in my imitator assigned study. It's small and claustrophobic and too close to where other people work, which is why I rarely use it.  The table where he rests his legs, crossed, takes more than half of the room. I cross my arms as I enter, leaning against the door’s frame after closing it.

We look at each other, my green eyes, like the shahin’s, against his honey, like my mom’s. Their likeness hits me again, like it does so lately—the dark of our tunics a reminder hanging over our heads.

“You wasted a chance yesterday, Oghan.” With the meetings’ ending, I’d almost forgotten about his attempt at humiliating me before the Chamber. I fold my arms in front of me, my royal name making me clench my jaw.

“And why would you care, Raichta,” I answer, putting emphasis on the last word. We can both play this game.

He smiles as an answer, mocking, his arms behind his head, the chair leaning backwards. He looks around the room like he knows he is above all of this, irritating me, my fists clenching to relax at my next breath. I have to remind myself to behave. It’s not like we haven’t argued before, and even though he always ends up winning, he can’t go to his meeting with Derya with a black eye.

“I guess you were looking for your witch friend. Áine, isn't it?”

“I don’t think father would like you to be late for your meeting.”

Sher raises his eyebrows, surprised that I answered his taunt with another. I count it as a little victory, fleeting as it is when he smiles again.

“Oh, you had a bad night, I see. Well,” the chair hits the floor with a bang when he stands, circling the table to lean against it, “if you are so worried about me getting told off, dear little brother, I’m more than glad to inform you that the meeting has already taken place. Oh, come one, don’t frown like that, you look like father even more.” I relax immediately. I was unaware of my reaction, my disappointment at my taunt being for nothing showing without permission.

“What do you want.” He’s making me waste time. I could have already talked to Súil, even Áine, if she weren’t busy. I could have started thinking about what we are going to do with the creator—I could have been eating something.

“I just wanted to chat, Oghan, that’s all.” He crosses his arms, mirroring my posture. I look at him through slit eyes. “Your friend you were looking for, she’s busy with the fatir. No one else is allowed to come close to her. I don’t really understand why. When I saw her, just as they had brought her in after capturing her, she was barely conscious. She’s just a lucky kid from the outskirts, with her magical blood. Or unlucky, it depends on what you are planning on doing to her.”

His voice, calm during the whole conversation, has shifted tone. He almost looks angry, even though his expression hasn’t changed. I’m not surprised, he hates us imitators and everything remotely related to us.

But it gets my attention that he mentioned Áine again. They never liked each other, not even as kids. I realize he might have been planning something, first with yesterday’s meeting, now this.

“And you are being so kind as to tell me? Don’t expect my thanks. Come on, Sher, tell me what is it that you want so we can both keep ignoring each other like these past months.”

“Oh, so we are back to Sher? That’s all the thanks I could ever wish for. Thank you, Oghan.”

It’s in the way he says it, his fixed stare on me as he gets to the last word, enjoying every syllable. It makes me move from the door towards him, still at the table, his always still superiority smile slightly bigger than before. I stop, barely a step between us—I tense, him relaxed. My jaw clenched, erratic breathing, his infuriating smile irritating me.

“My name is Karma.”

“It’s also Oghan, dear brother.”

“That’s not the name my mother gave me, Raichta.”

“She was my mother too.”

I stop. His arms hang beside him. I have to raise my head to look him in the eyes, now that he has stood up to his full height, his three more years obvious in his height. He’s not smiling anymore.

His gaze blames me, it reminds me of my failures and errors. I can’t stand it.

I turn and leave, my anger raising instead of disappearing with the distance, the conversation repeating in my head again and again. My hands hurt from fisting them, the collar of the tunic too tight against my throat. I half run to my private study, the halls of the palace empty but haunted by ghosts. When I finally get there, the door closes with too much strength, a headache starting in my head.

I’ve never understood Sher, the older brother, always so distant, so perfect in the eyes of our father and the Chamber. The golden prince, our emblem’s lion come to life. I don’t remember much of our time together as kids, we spent most of it apart. Me with the Umars, him at the palace. Sher had the approval and almost the respect of the shahin, even as kids, but I had her, my—our—mother. And it was like that, until I failed her, until she decided to spend her last moments with her heir, me thrown into the background again. Out of place. The last thing I did was promise I would solve the problem, even if it was too late to help her.

I let the papers fall on the table, the thud echoing in the stone walls. Just beside them, I find a tray with some bread and cheese. I take a bite of the former, moving everything else out of the way, and I start rereading my notes, the results of the experiments we have been running for the last year dancing in my mind. Getting angry at Sher won’t help me keep the promise I made, but his words, “She was my mother too”, his countenance, almost sad, has allowed me to see for an instant that he is capable of feeling—that he’s also grieving her death. It reminded me that he lost her too, that I wasn’t the only one that loved her. I do forget he was also her son sometimes.

I push back the whirlpool of emotions deep inside, as I did a few hours ago with the pain in my chest, and focus on the work once more.

There’s no time.

The sun is almost at its highest point when a knock on the door jolts me into the present. My desk has turned once again into a mess of books and papers, the tray banished to the floor to gain more space. I let go a quiet “Come in”, focused still on the passage I’m reading.

“Karma.” I turn when I hear Emhi, one of the imitators I usually work with. She’s still outside the room, her short hair disheveled, the little knot at the top of her hair almost falling over. She’s taking deep breaths. “The creator, the shahin has decided it’s time to talk to her.” I stand up immediately, almost falling over the tray, and follow her, grabbing my outer tunic on the way.

“Now?” I ask as we hurry along the never-ending corridors. Emhi nods, lacking air. She must have run up here from the cells to notify me. I thank her silently. It’s been a long time since we talked.

“The shahin thought seeing the creator would impress the Derya emissaries, and the subject was brought up during the meeting with the Chamber. They are apparently very curious about the inner workings of imitations, something to do with how they—.” She stops walking and turns to me. “Garvan told me they’ve put you in charge.” Her eyes examine me as I struggle to fix the lines of my clothing, worry set around her face. “What are you going to do to her?”

“I don’t yet know. I was hoping Áine could tell me, but I haven’t seen her in days.” A nod. We start walking again.

“She wanted to talk to you, but… Well, let us say, treating the creator has left her restless.”

“My brother said she was barely awake, I can’t see how that would disquiet Áine, being like she is, it’s not the first time she has— What.” Emhi stops me with a hand on my chest, the throne room a corner turn away. Her soft brown eyes look at me, grave. I shiver. We all know what Áine does. Doesn't make it easier.

Most of the time I just pretend I don't.

“The girl, the creator, she sings in her sleep. Áine says she’s praying. But she sometimes talks and struggles, and what she says…” So the creator talks in her sleep. That's nothing to worry about, really. “They fear it might have something to do with the drug you two made together.” She grabs my arm. Gently, but I still look her in the eyes, relaxing my frown. “Whatever it is you decide to do, try keeping Áine out of it. Please. It’s hard enough for her as it is.”

“I know,” I say as I look away. “We should go.”

Emhi nods and leads the way. In front of the door awaits the Derya delegation, their colorful clothing in contrast against the pale monochromatic nature of the palace. Sher is with them, making small talk, the charisma he did not let through in our conversation spilling out of him now. The imitator bows to them and walks away to stand with her partners, just beside the entrance, leaving me alone to face them. I tug at my hem.

Greetings follow once they notice my presence, their bows accompanied by my title, mirzaan—second son, second prince, second everything. I bow back, stiff, and let Sher keep the conversation going.

We barely look at one another.

This morning's anger rises to then crash back down inside my chest. I have more important things to worry about that aren't my asshole of a brother. There's a creator, right now, at this moment, just beyond the thick doors at my back, and I have to physically stop myself from turning and just staring at them to try to burn through the wood to see her. I make myself nod absentmindedly at the conversation when it's required, thoughts busy with the little scrap of a plan I started to work on, and whatever the khadae's plan is.

It’s then that the shahin appears, followed by his guards and another group of imitators. Súil khadae is at his side, some nobles from the Council following behind them. Once again, the delegation bows, deeper this time. Without even bothering to return the gesture, without even bothering to acknowledge our presence, the shahin makes the guard open the doors with a subtle yet impatient hand movement.

We enter, the room captivating me as it did the first time I saw it. 

I don’t remember much, I was barely a kid, but I do remember being overwhelmed under the incredibly tall, intricate stone arches. I felt small then, and I feel small now as we walk under them. The walls, more mountain than anything else, thick and ancient, flanking us at our sides, and the marine breeze sneaking in through the narrow windows. The monstrous throne emerging from the rock where my father sat looking down at me in the middle of the room, legs unsteady and hands shaking at my back.

The space my nine-year-old self stood in now occupied by the fatir.

Súil and the shahin walk forward, the latter stopping just in front of her, the khadae settling himself besides the throne, Sher on the other side. I position myself on their left, next to the delegation and the members of the Council, a group of guards, and some imitators. Áine, I notice, is with them. She nods at me in greeting, her breathing deep and controlled. I nod back. It’s uncomfortable, after so many days without seeing each other. 

The rest of the imitators distribute themselves around the room to join their partners, who were already there. In the center, a guard—Anuna, I believe—has the creator by her hair, a spear at her back, arms in chains tied to the floor behind her. Her clothes are a mess, dirty with mud and dried blood, the once white cloth now the color of the walls. Her skin, darker than I’ve ever seen, stark against ours, equal only to Áine's.

I fidget at seeing how they are treating her. I’ve never been directly involved in the imitators' work on the outskirts, their blood as khithi as it gets on the island, but I never thought they would be this aggressive when dealing with them. She’s just a girl, wounded and weak—thanks to the drug I made, I remind myself. Something inside of me wants to tell him to stop, but I don’t have the authority, or the bravery, to do so. Looking around me, no one besides the deryans bat an eye. The arms at my back tense.

I can’t see her whole face, but I do see her profile. There's a weak shine of something next to her head on her other side, the light from the window just behind her blinding. I open my mouth, to say what I couldn’t tell. The girl fights back when Anuna forces her to raise her head to look at the shahin’s eyes, her face appearing from under her hair. I look at her broken nose, a scar crossing the bridge to her cheek. Áine shrinks in place as I glance at her, seeing what we all can see now: the characteristic shine of a creation next to the fatir's face.

My father doesn’t wait for anyone to sound the alarm before talking, voice calm and detached.

“Who's the idiot that let the fatir keep her creation?”

The imitators look at one another, most of them moving their hands to their imitations, the rest to their swords, stepping forwards but awaiting orders. The king’s guard moves to stand in between him and the girl, a wall, as the shahin steps back towards the dais where the throne is. I look at Sher, expecting, for some reason, the same reaction of hurried panic, but he’s serious. Silent, he looks at me, then to the delegation from Derya, who clearly do not understand what’s happening. 

The sudden tension in the room is heavy above us.

“And? Who was it?” His voice sends a chill down my back as he speaks after sitting with leisured movements. No one answers, the silence a high-pitched sound in my ears. The shahin remains unaffected on the throne, no fear in his eyes, his posture. I realize I've taken a step forward with the guards instead of backwards like everyone else who doesn't have a weapon. Anuna grasps the spear firmly in his free hand, arms tense, sharp point now in contact with the fatir’s back. I can see the hate in her eyes, unmoving before the king’s. The defiance on her face is almost traitorous giving the circumstances.

“Kafir,” she says, her voice hoarse and dry, her ire flooding each syllable. I don’t understand what provoked such a reaction, but I understand the word. Heretic. She struggles, the chains hitting the floor, the spear breaking her tunic. She doesn’t seem to care.

“Don’t stand there doing nothing, remove it from her.” His hand gestures forwards. The guards tense, hesitating in place. They generally avoid approaching khithi because of the unknown origins of their sickness. Some imitators unsheathe their swords and walk towards her, but a crack is heard, and they step back.

There's blood in their chests where their imitations used to be.

No one else moves, an undercurrent of fear shaking the room. Anuna, busy keeping her still, forces her head higher so she’s looking at the ceiling, the chains rattling on the floor once again, her teeth clenched. The shahin glances at Sher, a beat passing in between them. At the older man's gesture, Sher moves with steady feet towards the center of the room, his posture perfect and unaffected but for the slight twitch in his hand.

“We do not fear what we control,” says the king in the deryans' direction as his son approaches the creator and kneels before her. She trashes against her ties as much as she can, spear piercing her back and eyes wild. Sher’s lips move, an unintelligible murmur, as the light of the imitations in the room rises in intensity, the imitators trying to control their own still keeping a safe distance away from the girl. Warmth blooms in my right ear, my mom’s creation reacting to whatever the creator is doing without even opening her mouth. She's still now, tense and frozen. Sher whispers, eyes locked with hers, and, without warning, yanks the creation from the girl’s ear. Droplets of blood splatter on his cheek at the separation of flesh and stone.

I cower in place.

The imitations turn off and the heat stops.

Once Sher is back in his place, he offers the shahin the creation soiled with blood, leaving it on his hand. His void expression returns, and he stands there like he just didn’t destroy someone's ear.

I look back at the creator, her head low, chest heaving, her arms tense trying to separate but bound together by the chains. Her hair, short as it is, covers her face and I miss her expression. And yet, in spite of the distance, I’m able to see the slight shine of her eyes, the same vibrant color as the creation that was ripped away from her.

“Súil khadae?” the shahin changes to ilan, speaking as if nothing happened.

“Of course, my shahin.” The khadae's lips quirk in a satisfied smirk. His ilan, worse than my father's, is rough around the edges. I listen, cringing at the wrong vocals, as he explains what all of this is about. He talks about the Iria and its state, the illness that haunts the island, the importance of loaning her skills to help us solve the problem. He even mentions, to my surprise, the accident three months ago. The memory moves something inside of me—grief, and sadness. Guilt.

The creator, still on the floor, head down now on her knees, not seating as she was when we entered, is still. Anuna has stopped holding her head, conforming himself to holding to the spear at her back. What everyone seems to have misunderstood with compliance and submission looks to me like an explosion waiting to occur. Her arms are still as separated as they can be, the metal biting her skin. Through her bangs, too long for comfort, I see her moving her lips, a repeated and short action. I suddenly feel cold, in spite of the sun hitting my face from the windows.

Súil keeps talking. He has even moved forward, coming down from the dais. At only a few steps from the creator, I hear him ending his speech.

“Iria is dying, fatir. And we’ve brought you here so you help us heal it.”

Silence falls again, the tension in the air so strong you could cut it with a knife, now heavier. The breeze, that tastes like salt in my tongue, moves my bangs across my temples. Moves her hair, too, showing me her expression. I think she smiles, when she talks.

“Dying.” A pause. Her shoulders shake, like she’s crying, but we don’t hear her sobbing, only her laughter: sarcastic, scornful, angered. “Hilarious”, with the help of the chain she straightens as much as she can, looking straight at the shahin and fully ignoring Súil, his expression now serious, eyes fearful. “It’s been dying for years, but you already knew that, didn’t you?” The chains, that she has been forcing against her skin, I now realize, are covered with blood. Her calm expression, what she was murmuring before starting to make sense in my head. I take a step forward on instinct, but she keeps talking. “Deciding to act now won’t change that fact that it is too late.”

A pause, silence—and then, darkness.

tag list: @my-cursed-prince @on-noon

[xerospaced]

So it's taken me a ridiculous amount of time to attempt this course that should have been completed in 12 weeks. And I've only just finally submitted the assessment of my second unit (2 of 4). I did actually submit it initially on schedule but I was asked to add some info. And then after doing that was asked to add yet more info to another question! Ma'am!!

Anyway. This is not really anything to be proud of (to most anyway) but I am proud. I have attempted to get back to work on this course for a HOT minute. And each time I have sat down or tried to sit down to work on it I have ultimately failed and done, nothing.

Today, I actually REMEMBERED that my tutor had given today as a deadline to add this additional info as it was only a small amount required. Thankfully I remembered coz I had no reminders set, nor did I note it anywhere.

But, after having less than three hours sleep due to my period crippling me late into the night and a contractor turning up first thing to work on my en suite (which he didnt finish til about 1), and then - when I was finally thinking about decompressing in my space alone for a grip before approaching this task - I had to take my ma to the doctor on a last minute urgent thing.

I handled both disruptions incredibly well. Brought my ma home and went out to cop me some energy drinks and a couple snacks coz I'm still trying this maintaining glucose levels thing and I knew I needed to work.

I very almost started gaming when I got back in coz I cant stand going from external thing to focused thing without a transitional period. But I knew I was running the risk of getting sucked in.

Instead, I kept in my ear buds, danced around, started on my energy drink (and a cheeky glass of moscato) sat down to work - laptop tried to beef me so I got myself prepared for the task I had to approach while it sorted itself out. Got distracted by a linkedin email and found myself on the app job searching. Yes, productive. No, not conducive to the matter at hand.

Hennyway, I managed to shift my focus back to the assignment. Did one part and was gonna take a one song break (coz pressure from Encanto came on shuffle and I'm not gonna work through that coz like I NEEDS to belt) but ended up pausing it while I prepared the second part. Then ended up just completing the second part and submitting and now I'm done.

And sure, all in all, it was about ten to fifteen mins of work. And yeah, it's a relatively minor thing in the grand scheme of things. But still! I did something and focused when I intended to and stopped myself getting distracted and stayed on task.

I will add that part of what helped the transition was D asking me if I'd submitted my poems for the competition yet just before I headed to the dr. [As established, deciding to work on my poetry was that THING I needed to get excited and motivated] It set me in a space where I was wanting to be productive. I sent him a few poems for his insight. He doesn't do poetry and all that so it was an odd choice but he is also not afraid to be critical and won't just tell me everything is great (also he gave v positive feedback to the poem which is like... the crux of me and the manuscript I'm gonna put together so omfg YES)

Long long long ass post coz I'm typing on my surface and not as limited as when I'm on mobile, plus typing speed lord jesus.

Anyway, I'm proud of myself. And even tho D didn't provide any overt or particularly hands-on application of accountability/responsibility, he did put my attention on a worthy task, and the best one he could've to kick me into gear.