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seacee16 · 2 years ago

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when petals fall | bangchan

bang chan x original female character

warnings: none

prev chapter // next chapter

!! FULL STORY ON AO3 !!

ch. 17 ~ when you're on your own

It started off slow. Five new followers on social media. And then 120. And then 6470. The number kept growing like the panic seeping into Sakura’s mind, wondering why people were suddenly finding her uninteresting art posts and rare selfie so intriguing. Then came the comments. These she didn’t see, not until it was too late anyway. There was also the blurry image that started to circulate every platform used by any fanbase. It was grainy, zoomed in as far as it could go, but you could just make out the shape of a woman’s figure in the reflection of a car window. This wasn’t unusual, it was normal for idols to have female staff with them for trips. But that wasn’t what had caused all the attention to find her. It was the reflection of Chan next to her own, hand resting on her waist for a moment longer than what would be normal for a staff-idol relationship. There were videos too. Of Chan staring at her with a wide smile at their fan-meet not too long ago. Of his hand on her back as they walked through the crowded airport. After that, things started to snowball at a rapid pace. All it took was one comment from someone saying that their mother had seen the Stray Kids leader visiting a woman while fetching her younger sister from an art class and suddenly the media were all over her. And a large amount of the attention was not in a good light, neither for her nor Chan.

Sakura stared blankly at the screen of her laptop, unconsciously scrolling down through the waves of comments mentioning her by name. It was scary how fast they had managed to find out who she was after that one claim. She had made every account to her name private, but that didn’t stop the theories from spreading like a wild fire.

Are they dating?

Are they married?

Maybe Chan got her pregnant and now she’s blackmailing him into keeping her around?

Surely, they’re not together, she’s nobody important.

And then came the articles. A friend from home had been the first to send it to her, worried about what it would do to her. The more she read, the more she found truth wound between the words of theory. One in particular had been ruthless. Written by a supposed fan, it went into some detail of her past, having dug up posts from the darkest point in her life and somehow using it as reasoning for why she was suddenly in the idol’s presence. As if she saw her end as a way to exploit the golden heart of the Australian leader. The nausea came as a single post from the day of her father’s passing was brought up, bringing back emotions that burned as she tried to suppress them. Sakura left the rest of the article unread, not wanting to see what other secrets and lies they may have written about. She had tried to live a quiet life in Seoul. Her last few months at home had been chaotic, full of people rushing in and out of their lives, all promising to stay as they took one step out the door.

With a sigh, she pushed the screen down, ignoring the dull ache in her wrist as she did so. Her legs felt heavy as she stood, dragging herself over to her bed before laying down and pulling the sheet up to her chin. Her hands felt around for the plush penguin that stayed at her side as she slept, holding it to racing heart.

There was a knock at her bedroom door.

“Sakura? Can we come in?”

With a sigh, she got back up and trudged towards her bedroom door to unlock it, allowing the door to swing open on its own as she walked back to the nest she had formed on her bed. Pushing aside crumpled balls of drawing paper and scattered pencils, she sat down against her pillows and watched as her friends approached her. Soo-yun sat carefully at the foot of her bed while Lilli chose her seat at her desk. Both of them seemed to look at her with sympathetic eyes. She hated it.

“I really hope you two didn’t come in just to stare me down. I’m not a tiger in a zoo.”

Soo-yun let out a breath, one she might have been holding the entire time. “We saw the article.”

“So has the rest of South Korea, and a few hundred thousand people outside of the country. What’s new?”

“We also saw the tweets,” Lilli added on. “I know you’re not one for sharing your burdens, but we should talk about it, Sakura.”

“I really don’t want to,” she admitted, knowing well that her roommates wouldn’t just let it go.

“You should deny it, Sakura,” Soo-yun told her, seeing the way her friend’s face pulled into a sour frown.

Sakura dragged a hand over her face, letting her hair fall like a veil around her face. “I don’t think it’s that easy. I doubt they’d all believe me alone. My best bet might be to just wait until his company releases an official statement denying everything before I say or do anything.”

There was a silence that fell over the room, the type that only came when something was being held back. Sakura would be blind not to notice the look shared between her company, as if they were trying to coax one another into saying something. Her eyebrows furrowed. Their hesitance poked at her skin, annoying her. “Can you please just say whatever it is you want to say? You’re making me incredibly anxious right now?”

With a sigh, Lilli asked, “Is there really anything for his company to deny?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you dating him, Sakura?”

Were they dating? No, they had never actually gone on any dates, and he hadn’t asked her either. They hadn’t really spoken about it. The circumstances surrounding their friendship had always been complicated. She didn't want to be in the light, and he didn't want her to be hurt by it. She thought back to their recent times together. Their kiss in Jeju. Waking up in his arms. The shared glances at his fan-meet. Their time in her classroom. Hugging and hand holding and wishful gazes. Despite all of this, they weren’t dating. So, why did her heart ache as she denied it?

And then came a question that hurt even more.

“Has he contacted you since then?”

He hadn’t. No message or call. However, she had her suspicions as to why there was nothing but static silence from the male since the rumours broke out. She’d noticed it before. When things like this happened, the group would disappear from all platforms for a week or too. The media ban was common, meant to keep the group from further controversy until the heat died down.

“No, but I don’t think it’s by choice.” Her friends didn’t seem to believe her claim, but nodded anyway.

“With the amount of negative attention this is getting, the group is most likely on a media ban.” Sakura hummed in agreement, having her thoughts confirmed by the other girl. “So, she really has no other choice but to wait.”

“This is ridiculous,” Lilli said under her breath. “He isn’t the only party involved in this whole thing. Would it really be that much of an inconvenience for them to let him speak to you about this? He isn’t the only one affected by this. Hell, I’m pretty sure you’re being affected by this even more than he is.”

A sigh passed Sakura’s lips as she said, “it’s not his fault.”

“It kinda is. His fans are attacking you. His company is keeping him from contacting you. This is because you were with him. The least he could do is sneak you a quick message asking if you’re okay, which you clearly aren’t because who would be after having such terrible things written about them. They’re horrid! It’s all so-“

“Lilli,” Soo-yun said, her stern eyes contrasting her soft expression. The nurse stopped, looking towards Sakura before letting out a breath. She mumbled a ‘sorry’ before reaching over to squeeze her friend’s hand.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be okay, Lils. It doesn’t bother me that much.”

Soo-yun noticed the way her eyes dropped, her mouth pulling into a deep frown. “But you’re worried about him,” she stated, needing no confirmation from the girl. It was easy to tell. Her gaze kept flickering to her phone, discarded at the end of her bed.

“Of course, I’m worried about him, Soo-yun. He,” she paused. Sakura thought back to the night it rained, the things they spoke about in between the deafening bouts of rain. When, for the briefest moment, he willing passed over his sky, and then offered to carry hers with it. “He’s going to beat himself up about it. He worries an unhealthy amount. God, he already gets such little sleep and doesn’t eat close to enough and it frustrates me because I know I’ll be the cause of that stress now. I want nothing more than to call him and tell him that he shouldn’t worry about me. They have a comeback soon. He should be focusing on his music and his members. He should be excited, but I can literally picture him pulling at his roots worrying about me. It kills me to know that he probably thinks this is all his fault when it isn’t.”

Lilli and Soo-yun exchanged a glance, both thinking the exact same thing as they watched their friend. Sakura had been so hesitant to leave the safety of their apartment after arriving in Seoul. She refused to introduce more casualties into her life. She was tired of being hurt by her own optimism. And yet, here she was, walls down for the first time in months, with nothing but worry and longing in her eyes as she spoke about him.

“The ban won’t last forever, sweets,” Soo-yun reassured her, a motherly smile on her face as she stared into glassy eyes. “You’ll hear from him.”

“And,” Lilli interjected, “just because you can’t hear from him, doesn’t mean he can’t hear from you. He may not be able to respond, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be able to get the message. You can still check in on him, be there for him.”

They were right. He would still be able to see her messages, he just wouldn’t be able to let her know that he received them. Would that be enough to ease the discomfort in her chest? Knowing that he could hear her, even if she couldn’t hear him? Would he believe her? Would he be okay?

Sakura snapped out of her daze as her roommates stood to leave.

“For what it’s worth, Sakura, he made you happy. That much was easy to see. And if he makes you happy, then I’m rooting for you.”

Once the door had shut behind them, Sakura made the stretch for her phone. There were a few minutes of contemplation, thinking of what she could say to him. Nothing that came to mind seemed good enough. Safe enough.

Fuck it.

Sakura typed out her message, pressing send before her head to convince her that the entire text had to be rewritten a second or third or sixth time.

>> Sakura: I know a lot of things. I know that you can’t respond to this right now. And it’s okay. I’m okay. I know that you are probably worried about me. I know that you likely think this is happening because of some error on your part. You’re thinking ‘I wasn’t careful enough’ or ‘I should have hidden better’ or ‘I shouldn’t have gone back that second night’. I know that you’re terrified of how this will affect your members, and honestly, I am too. I never wanted any of you to get be hurt by my presence, especially when all you’ve done is remind me that hurt isn’t the only thing I am capable of feeling.

>> Sakura: I know this is a long shot, but I’ll be at the river tonight, and tomorrow, and probably the night after that as well. I have a lot of thinking to do these days.

>> Sakura: I wouldn’t mind your company…if your ninja skills are up for it, that is

>> Sakura: I hope you’re okay, Nemo

>> Sakura: and I’m sorry

DELIVERED

Tossing her phone as far away from her as possible without damaging the device, she wrapped herself back up in her blanket and shut her eyes, praying for sleep to come before the anxiety-driven thoughts did. But it never came. She lay awake behind dark lids for minutes that felt like hours, each thought that plagued her worse than the last one. It wasn’t long before she gave up, unravelling her cocoon. It was still too early. There was too much time between now and then. The park was too busy during the day, and crowded places was the last thing she needed in the heat of the situation. So, Sakura slipped on the baggiest clothing she could find and paired it with a thick beanie with a mask, and prayed that it would be enough to hide her identity just enough to survive a trip to the nearby convenience store and back.

Her roommates where nowhere in sight when she left, making her escape a little easier. Once she was successfully outside, it took all of five minutes for Sakura to regret ever leaving her room. She was just another person taking a walk, but in her mind, everyone was staring at her like she had three heads and a tail. Pulling her hat down further, she picked up pace until she reached the familiar corner store. Grabbing what was needed – which included an icy drink and gummy sweets – Sakura paid for her things and left.

It was just as she stepped outside that her phone vibrated in the pocket of her sweatpants. Her drink was nearly dropped in the rush to see who the notification was from. It hadn’t been what she was expect, but it brought a genuine smile to her face for the first time in days. Flight details and a familiar name, that was all it took. The walk back was less eventful. Her drink was empty by the time she reached her apartment, and once inside, sleep came a little easier.

If only the light feeling had stayed longer. Soon, it was dark and she was back at the river, her heart and hopes weighing heavy in her shaking hands. The girl’s heart gave a painful squeeze for every vibration of her phone that wasn’t him. With every slight noise around her, Sakura whirled around in hopes of seeing him standing there, too nervous to approach her – just like the very first night they met. It seemed so long ago now. It had been so simple at the start. Now, she had to swallow down the lump in her throat and pretend that his absence didn’t feel like her heart being ripped from her chest.

So, she buried her face in her arms and waited, ignoring the realization that he wouldn’t be coming tonight. Or tomorrow. That night, there was no dancing. No music. No awkward questions and nervous replies. That night, it was just Sakura and the stars.

And for the first time in months, she felt truly alone in this world.

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parkerdoesparkour · 2 years ago

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-my wish is for your wish to come true (Theseus Birthday Fic 2023)-

A short fic I wrote for one of my twisted wonderland oc's, Theseus, who is Titania's love interest!

Two hundred and sixty five days, seven hours, and thirty four minutes since Theseus arrived in Twisted Wonderland, not that he was counting.

While it took some great adjustments on his part, he was proud to say he was mostly used to living here now. Two hundred and sixty five days is a long time to get used to something, even as jarring as an alternate reality. Thankfully, he had help; the people in the town he landed in were kind and understanding. They helped him get on his feet, taught him what he needed to know about this world, and he even managed to get a job at a local news house. He enjoyed his job, too, since he spent a lot of his work hours writing various articles. Not only did it help him get a greater understanding of this world, but writing was a way he kept himself sane.

“Knock, knock.”

Theseus looked up from the article he was editing at his desk. Bennett leaned against Theseus’ office doorway with a smile. “The boss told me to make sure you weren’t overworking yourself.”

“I’m not,” Theseus replied. “Just finishing up something before my day off.”

Bennett rolled his eyes. “You’re the only one here who works so hard on a weekend. Come on, there’s cake in the break room.”

Theseus finally tore his eyes off of his article and slid out of his desk to follow Bennett. “Cake?” he repeated. Bennett sighed, but he didn’t look shocked at Theseus’ confusion.

“We thought you might forget,” he said. They walked down the hall and entered the break room. There were streamers taped to the ceiling and a few balloons tied to the center table’s leg. A festive tablecloth was thrown over it and was topped with plastic cups, plates, and a large cake. The few coworkers here on Sunday were already gathered in the room. They all wore stereotypical birthday cones and a few even had noisemakers.

They greeted Theseus with a chorus of birthday wishes and his boss, Adeline, emerged from the group. “It’s about time,” she huffed. “We were going to have to eat your cake without you if you took any longer.”

“Sorry,” Theseus laughed. Half-distracted and soaking up the warmth of people celebrating his birthday, he added. “I forgot.”

Adeline deflated and his group of coworkers all shouted out, “Yeah, we know.”

On his way back to his apartment, Theseus stopped at his favorite coffee shop for an after-work-pick-me-up. The lunch crowds had long since dispersed, leaving only a few regulars tucked away in booth’s and the cafe’s owner, Ms. Beastton. She smiled when she saw him enter. “Your usual?”

“Please.”

As Theseus passed the counter to find a seat, one of the other patrons left their booth. They gave Theseus two pats on his shoulder then made their way to the counter to pay. Theseus gladly took their seat.

He scrolled mindlessly through Magicam until Ms. Beastton appeared with his coffee and a small pastry with a single candle stuck in it. His mouth was already open to protest but she placed the items down quickly. “Happy birthday,” she said, then disappeared into the back so she didn’t have to listen to him argue.

He sighed and turned his attention to the candle. For a moment, he watched the flame dance along with his breath. He thought about making a wish but he wasn’t sure what to wish for. Work was going well, his apartment was starting to feel like home, and he even had a few days off this week. He thought about the classic, wishing for a million dollars, when an image hit him suddenly.

Titania, dressed in silk white robes with her hands folded over her stomach. He laid flowers across her chest and watched as the people of Delamere lowered her body into the ground.

Theseus shook his head and bit his tongue to keep the tears away. He focused on the candle as a wish came to the forefront of his mind. He leaned closer to his pastry and whispered the wish like a secret to a friend.

“I wish… that I get to see her one more time. I wish for a chance to apologize for everything.”

He closed his eyes and blew out the candle.

Four hundred and five days, two hours, and eleven minutes since Theseus arrived in Twisted Wonderland and he was finally getting a chance to see the world outside of the Land of Dawning. Adeline tasked him with covering the Vocal and Dance Competition happening on Sage Island. The mage school Night Raven College was hosting this year and as Theseus walked through the school courtyard, he reviewed his mental flashcards for his job. NRC, VDC, RSA… so many acronyms to remember.

The bell chimed and he picked up his pace. One of the faculty members was kind enough to show him how to get to the ballroom where the students were practicing. For now, he was just supposed to introduce himself (tomorrow he would do the same thing with RSA’s student participants) but his anxiety still ate at him. Apparently, the student leading NRC’s students was some big shot celebrity so the pressure was on for him to make a good first impression.

He finally made it to the ballroom and, when he entered, he saw a group of students stretching and mingling. A few glanced at him but a tall blond made his way over to Theseus. He regonized the student as the high-profile celeb leading NRC’s group, Vil Schoenheit. Theseus shook Vil’s hand with a smile. “You must be the reporter.”

“Yes,” Theseus said. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Schoenheit.”

“Vil’s fine,” Vil replied. “Adeline spoke to me about you earlier and we’re the same age.” He looked around the room and frowned slightly. “We’re missing a few students. One, I think you might take interest in.”

“Oh?” Theseus hummed. He busied himself setting down his camera and bag.

“She came from another world, like you.”

The door opened and three more students plus some kind of gray cat moved in. One of them was talking to Vil, explaining why they were late, while another cut in, “Titania made everyone snacks.”

Titania.

Theseus’ head shot up and he knocked over his chair as he swiveled around. Vil looked concerned and slightly frustrated but Theseus was looking behind him, at the group that just entered. One of the students stood out from the others; brown curls and bright green eyes with a pink ribbon in her hair. Then, he found the unmistakable scar on her face that traveled down her arm.

Titania.

She recognized him, too, in the same moment. Her eyes went wide and the plate of snacks slipped from her hands. It shattered on the floor and everyone stepped back from her. To Theseus, she looked exactly the same– actually, not the same. She looked happier than he had ever seen her back in Delamere.

His mouth was moving before he could figure out the words to his apology. She was running at him then she wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. “Theseus!” she shrieked.

The apology died in his throat and he put his arms around her, laughing while tears ran down his cheeks. “Titania,” he cried, “oh my god, I thought I’d never see you again. How are you– how are you even here?”

She pulled back, smiling, and pressed her hands on his cheeks. “I could ask you that, too, you know?” She wiped tears away from his face.

“You’re alive? You’re alive right?” he asked. “You’re here?”

She nodded. “I’m here.”

Four hundred and five days, two hours, and thirty-one minutes since Theseus arrived in Twisted Wonderland and this was the best day out of all of them.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst oc #twst writing #twst oc writing

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nellamente · 9 months ago

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Do we believe everything we see?

Through my lens.................. (Sera Barbara 5.1A)

Intro

If you had to count, how many times have people manipulated you into believing something that you are not particularly fond of... how many times would you say it happened? Or maybe someone pulled a joke on you and you were so trusting that you did not even realize that people were actually pulling your leg?

The real question is, are you THAT easy to be messed with.. or are you too oblivious and trustful?

I find myself constantly being pushed into believing a bunch of information that I am being fed daily. In a blog about Over Consumption of Information, Oksana Tunikova mentioned that once you spend a long time consuming information through the web "you realize there’s so much data in your head that you can no longer think clearly." (Oksana 2018) The thing is that, people are receiving information through their screens 24/7. Therefore, if we had to join both of these points together we can conclude that considering that 67.1% of the world population today, are technology users, 5.45 BILLION people around the globe are in this "brain fog" state (Oksana 2018) ALL . THE . TIME.

She deconstructed the definition of the state of "Information Overload" saying that it is "feeling overwhelmed by the volume of information to the point at which one feels more confused than knowledgeable about a particular topic. Information overload can manifest itself as brain fog and difficulty making decisions." (Oksana 2018) Further on she mentions that this also brings anxiety.

Over consumption comes with mental health issues. In Tunikova's blog she mentions the concept of creating anxiety. "information overdose can also aggravate anxiety one is already feeling" (Oksana 2018) and it brings as well as lack of focus "When there is more information in our head than we can effectively process, our brain starts to rush from one idea to another". (Oksana 2018) It sort of feels like we are no longer in control of our emotions and maybe that is the goal through all of this. This makes sense with the artistic image above ^^. The lines going through the human's ears, eyes and mouth is no coincidence, all of these parts of the body work with the brain, "The brain integrates visual and auditory information to better understand its environment"(Drevitch 2024) Therefore everything that we see and hear all go through our brain and affect us in some way.

Does this all lead up to one meaning that we are being controlled by our own screens, the media and our entertainment? But supposedly if our emotions are being "controlled" what about our opinons? According to Incuta on a article called Inception: Social Media’s Influence On Your Opinion "Our digital interactions on social media platforms can sometimes be so immersive that it’s hard for us to differentiate a conscious thought from an unconscious inception" (Iuncta 2023).

Saying this is much easier than admitting that this is actually happening to us and its impact on us. The image below is the perfect example of the way we perceive this.

Conclusion

The way I interpret this is in this scenario. Imagine it; you're scrolling through Instagram and an image of a current ongoing war comes up, the post makes you empathize with the people going through the war and it makes you feel uneasy. You decide you don't want to continue feeling this way and scroll to another post that shows a cute kitten sleeping, making you think "this is so cute! okay, nothing is so bad after all".

What I am trying to say by this; by scrolling to another post it makes us feel as if that everything is fine once you scroll to another thing. But this constant run through, through good and bad news ends up making us accept EVERYTHING...leading up to the 10th word of this blog, MANIPULATION. If we start accepting even these small instances of doing nothing we end up being easy on bigger instances too, to the point that we don't have our own opinion and if we do have opinions they are based on what we see rather than what we think.

And maybe we are being controlled but, what for? Why should these constant scrolling sessions make us more accepting? I feel that there is something more to this than we know. We need to learn more how differentiate between reality and fantasy, lies and truths and most of all, real and fake.

But after all not all control is bad control. Who knows where this would lead us?

This is all based on perspective.

"the question of whether or not the media controls people is a complex one that depends on a variety of factors. While there are certainly examples of media manipulation and the potential for influence exists, it is ultimately up to individuals to critically evaluate the messages that they receive and make informed decisions." (ArtisticMindsHQ 2023)

Reference list

ArtisticMindsHQ (2023). Do We Believe the Media Controls Us? Exploring the Impact of Media on Society. [online] Medium. Available at: https://medium.com/@thedaily-ArtisticMindsHQ/do-we-believe-the-media-controls-us-exploring-the-impact-of-media-on-society-106e2f2d811d.

ArtStation. (2024). Consumption, Miko Maciaszek. [online] Available at: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/0X8VYy.

Drevitch, G. (2024). How Your Eyes Communicate With Your Ears. [online] Psychology Today. Available at: https://www.psychologytoday.com/intl/blog/illusions-delusions-and-reality/202406/how-your-eyes-communicate-with-your-ears.

Iuncta (2023). Forbes EQ BrandVoice: Inception: Social Media’s Influence on Your Opinion. [online] Forbes. Available at: https://www.forbes.com/sites/forbeseq/2023/02/27/inception-social-medias-influence-on-your-opinion/.

Khushpreet Singh Sidhu (2022). Nowadays, people get information through news and papers, but meanwhile are uncertain about the truth of th... [online] Writing9.com. Available at: https://writing9.com/text/628767b19409cb0018088688-nowadays-people-get-information-through-news-and-papers-but-meanwhile.

Marshall, R. (2019). How do Cultures Change? - Video & Lesson Transcript | Study.com. [online] Study.com. Available at: https://study.com/academy/lesson/how-do-cultures-change.html.

Tunikova, O. (2018). Are We Consuming Too Much Information? [online] Medium. Available at: https://medium.com/@tunikova/are-we-consuming-too-much-information-b68f62500089#id_token=eyJhbGciOiJSUzI1NiIsImtpZCI6IjI4YTQyMWNhZmJlM2RkODg5MjcxZGY5MDBmNGJiZjE2ZGI1YzI0ZDQiLCJ0eXAiOiJKV1QifQ.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.zTVfanMP1MFpZs9HgMxsnRdtcRLwNwCxvzoEyAjRDO1vJV8o1rRtAMe6okjWFyLywFrqjsSfGiYR29Klj_v.

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kljbfgoawygej · 2 years ago

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Responsive Web Design: Creating User-Friendly Websites for All Devices

In this digital age, we live in a world where everyone seems to be glued to their screens, whether it's a smartphone, tablet, laptop, or desktop computer. As a website owner, you want your online presence to shine and be accessible to everyone, no matter what device they're using. That's where responsive web design comes into play. In this article, we'll explore the world of responsive web design in a simple and engaging way, ensuring that your website is a joy to visit on any device.

What is Responsive Web Design?

Responsive Web Design (RWD) is the art of creating websites that adapt and morph to fit various screen sizes. Whether you're viewing a site on your smartphone, tablet, laptop, or desktop, a responsive design ensures that the layout, images, and text adjust harmoniously to provide an optimal viewing experience.

Why is Responsive Design Essential?

Imagine opening a website on your phone, and you have to pinch, zoom, and scroll endlessly just to read a single sentence. It's frustrating, right? Responsive design eliminates this hassle by ensuring your website automatically scales and rearranges its elements to provide a smooth and enjoyable browsing experience, no matter the device.

Mobile-First Approach

Responsive design often starts with a mobile-first approach. This means designing for mobile devices first and then progressively enhancing the layout for larger screens. By doing this, you ensure your site is optimised for the majority of users who access the internet through their smartphones.

Smooth Navigation

Responsive design isn't just about looks; it's about performance too. When your website is optimised for different devices, it loads faster and provides a seamless browsing experience. No more frustration over slow-loading pages or misaligned content.

User Experience (UX) Matters

Responsive web design is all about delivering a superior user experience. When your visitors have a great experience, they're more likely to stay longer, explore your content, and convert into customers or loyal readers.

Boosting SEO with Responsive Design

Search engines love responsive websites. Google, for instance, prefers responsive web design over separate mobile and desktop sites. A single URL makes it easier for search engines to crawl and index your content, boosting your website's visibility in search results.

Cost-Effectiveness of Responsive Design

Contrary to the misconception that responsive web design is expensive, it can actually save you money in the long run. Managing a single website that caters to all devices is more cost-effective than maintaining separate desktop and mobile versions. It reduces development time, lowers maintenance efforts, and simplifies updates.

Common Misconceptions about Responsive Web Design

Some people believe that responsive design compromises creativity and limits design possibilities. However, skilled designers can create visually stunning and innovative websites within the responsive framework. It's not about limitations; it's about creative adaptation.

How to Implement Responsive Web Design

Implementing responsive web design involves a thorough understanding of CSS media queries, flexible grids, and layout principles. Collaborating with experienced web designers and developers can help transform your vision into a responsive reality. Remember, it's not just about making things fit; it's about crafting a seamless user experience.

Conclusion

Responsive web design is not just a technicality; it's a user-centric approach that caters to the diverse digital landscape. By embracing responsive design, you ensure that your website is accessible, engaging, and visually appealing to users across all devices. Remember, the online world is constantly evolving, and responsive web design is your ticket to staying relevant and thriving in this dynamic environment. So, invest in responsive design today and provide your audience with a seamless online experience, regardless of the device they use.

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 4 years ago

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Dimension Jumping Pt. 5

Comforting a grieving hobbit and time get everyone ready to go out!

Via the genius idea from katzrfsoa / Kat88

There's been mention of the reader not wanting to take the groups out, for fear of the public's reaction... so what about a cosplay convention? it would give the Reader the perfect excuse to allow them out, and they would wear their original clothes

----

This morning has been uneventful for the most part.

Breakfast passed by without issue and now everyone is off doing their own things.

You looked outside and took a peek in the guest room, but you still can't find him.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin are playing a board game you showed them; Legolas is doing his meditation sleep thing; Boromir and Aragorn are discussing something; and Gimli is stacking bread on Legolas' leg to see how long it takes until he notices.

Frodo, however, is missing at the moment.

Right as you were considering telling the others of his disappearance, however, you heard some shuffling from your hall closet.

You open the door carefully and take peer inside, not wanting to startle the small hobbit, and at first you don't see him.

There's more shuffling and you hear a quiet sniff, followed by soft sobs, and you then realize he's hiding behind the shelf.

The door makes a soft clicking sound when you close it, and right away the quiet cries cease. You didn't want to alert him with the door, you wanted to do it yourself, but it's too late now, so you just go with it.

"Frodo?" You call in a gentle voice, staying by the door incase he wants you to go.

"Y-Yes?' He calls back, not moving from his spot.

His voice is thick with emotion, and the sadness in his tone makes your heart ache painfully. And when you walk closer and see him huddled up behind the shelf, your heart breaks a little for him.

He hastily rids his cheeks of any evidence of his sorrows, though the puffiness around his eyes and constant sniffles don't much help his cause, and looks at you with a false smile.

"Frodo, why are you crying?" You ask with furrowed eyebrows, kneeling down in front of him so you may look at him at eye level (mostly).

"It's nothing." He tells you quickly, looking away from your compassionate face with the same sad frown on his lips.

When you don't move to get up or leave, his gaze slides back over to you and he realizes that you're not going to leave unless he straight up tells you to go away. This makes him sigh, but truthfully, he doesn't want you to go away. Not really. For having company in a time of sorrow always mends suffering.

"I... did not have a proper time to mourn Gandalf. I've been so caught up in the oddity that is this place that I almost forgot my sorrows altogether, but then this morning is all... came rushing back." He explains with a surprisingly even voice.

While he speaks you cross your legs and listen along intently, your hands folded neatly in your lap. When he finishes, you reach forward and place your hand atop his with a gentle touch, "I didn't know him, but I can tell he was very dear to you. Honestly, I can't offer much advice, but I can tell you that keeping it all bottled up inside is not a good idea."

He looks at you with that sad face when you speak, and it prompts you to continue, "Also, I know everyone else can be pretty overwhelming or they just don't understand, and I want you to know that I'm always here to listen if you're feeling down, okay?"

Your words draw a small smile from the grieving hobbit and it elicits a similar grin from you.

"Thank you, Y/N. I... actually do feel a little better."

"I'm glad."

---

After your discussion with Frodo you rejoin everyone back out in the main room and let him recollect himself, going right onto your laptop to get some work done.

You're idly scrolling through a scholarly article you need to research when you see it.

An advertisement for some sort of comic book, cosplay, convention... thing in the area (no wonder you've been seeing so many oddly dressed people recently).

At first you almost scroll past it, but then you get hit with the brick of knowledge and a lightbulb goes off in your head.

"Yes!" You scream, successfully scaring everyone in the room and Penny who is sitting with you for once. "Ohh, my god. This is freaking perfect!" You exclaim, clicking on the link to get some more information.

Your eyes practically soak up everything on the information page, and, once you've skimmed through all of it, you look up with a bright smile on your face.

Literally all of them are looking at you like you've grown two heads, but you only clap your hands together a few times. "Guys, I just had a huge brain moment!"

The joke goes over their heads as per usual, but you don't let that deter you.

"Huge brain moment?" Pippin asks in confusion, looking at his cousin like he thinks he heard it wrong or something.

"Yes! I've figured out a way to take everyone out!"

That certainly gets their attention.

"You have?" Sam asks exuberantly, dropping his game piece so he can turn towards you and pay perfect attention.

"I have, yes," you start, continuing once you're 100% sure they're all paying attention, "So here's the thing, I knew that I could take out you tall boi's without issue besides having to find a hat for Legolas here, and I could explain that Gimli here has dwarfism," you pause at that and realize it may be offensive to him, but you continue once more, "but I also knew that there's no way I can explain away the hobbits, and then I found this gem."

You turn the computer so it faces all of them, but they only look more confused.

"There's a convention thing in town for the next week, and it's the perfect opportunity for me to bring everyone out! We just have to dress up the hobbits a bit and pretend that they're children."

At your explanation you receive multiple pleased smiles, and it serves to make you feel even better about your idea. "And you can all wear your normal clothes, too. And if someone asks who you are... I'll figure out a game or something you guys can use as an alias."

"Are you sure that will work?" Aragorn asks with furrowed eyebrows, sitting up from his spot in your arm chair.

"Um, like, maybe 98%." You confirm with a shrug, "It's better than 88% though."

He doesn't seem like he disagrees with you, so you look back at your laptop again and start to look for ideas to make them more believable as humans.

---

3 hours of research later, and you've successfully compiled a completely fool proof plan to smuggle this merry band of bizarre boys out of your house.

What you've decided is that you'll put some makeup over Legolas' pointy ears to make them look more fake since the concept of elves is not lost in this world. Boromir and Aragorn can go as themselves, and you'll put some makeup on the hobbits much like you will Legolas (they'll be children elves since there are no hobbits in your world) and tell everyone who asks how they look so good that you're a professional makeup artist.

Gimli, fortunately for you, was the easiest to come up with something for next to the other two humans of this group. You can just tell people he has dwarfism and that's why he chose to go as a dwarf character.

Everything is in order except for what you're going to do, though you suppose you should match their theme and be some sort of renaissance, maiden, lady, thing. You'll figure it out, though you do need to make sure it's convincing like theirs.

You decided to, instead of putting it off, go ahead and start working on finding a costume to match theirs.

A couple of searches later and you come across a really pretty dress that looks to fit their style, and when you show it to them they give you the thumbs up, so you order it with express shipping so it should arrive tomorrow.

It's a lovely flowy medieval dress *just look up flowy medieval dress and go to images, there are some good examples there*, and you feel excited just looking at it. Of course, there's no guarantee that it'll be the best quality, but it's got great reviews and you certainly paid a hefty sum for it.

After that's done with you head to your bathroom to see what makeup you've got, and you find that you don't really have any theatrical/special effects makeup. You're going to need skin colored wax makeup, powders, and contour stuff.

You're no makeup artist, obviously, but luckily for you, your goal is to make them look less realistic, so it should be easy enough.

It's surprisingly easy to figure out what you need to make them as convincing as possible, and pretty soon you've got a nice little list going on that outlines each thing you need.

Since you don't want to delay anymore, you head out of your bathroom and grab your bag while putting on your shoes, "Legolas, I'm leaving now if you wanna come with." You suggest since he stated his desire to join you in the one of the last chapters (:o).

When you call his name he looks over at you quickly, smiling a bit at your offer, "Yes, but you said I need a hat."

"Oh yeah! I have one, just gimme a sec." You tell him, walking over to a drawer.

When you open said drawer, you find a grey beanie with ease and toss it over to him, "Here ya go. Make sure it covers your ears... and uh, tuck your hair up into it too if you don't mind."

He does as you say with ease and, surprisingly, he looks just as good with shorter hair as he does longer hair.

It sticks kinda awkwardly at first, so you waltz on over and gesture for him to crouch down so you don't have to reach up.

Once again he does as you request and leans down so you may fix it.

You adjust it a bit to make sure it won't fall first, and then you smooth it back a bit so it'll also look stylish. And once you're done you take a step back and smile at him brightly.

"All done! Let's go!"

---

He seemed rather fascinated in the way your car works first and foremost, but once you got him to look out his window instead of watching you, his excitement quickly turned into awe.

When you both get to the ULTA store he follows you without hesitation and asks some hushed questions about things he sees, like the light up signs, other passing cars, stoplights, and some other things.

You, of course, answer each question happily and lead him inside, holding the door open for him while he enters and looks around the brightly lit up makeup store.

Right away you head towards the general direction of the nose and scar wax (it's multi purpose, don't judge me), forgetting to make sure that Legolas follows you.

When it does occur to you, however, that the blond elf didn't come after you, you panic.

You turn in a circle and only stop when you see him standing with some ladies who practically have hearts in their eyes.

Unconsciously you breathe a sigh of relief and head over with the wax in your little basket, immediately reaching up to wrap your arm around his, "I got the first thing on my list, come on."

The girls stop their giggles and flirting as soon as you show up and look genuinely surprised.

You give them a smile and nod in acknowledgement, not wanting to make them feel bad over something so silly before turning with your arm still around his own and walking him over to look at some contour stuff and other things.

They make some snide comments when you turn your back about you being a 'clingy girlfriend' and 'not pretty enough to be with a model like that', but you only ignore it and relish in the fact that you didn't make them feel bad over something as silly as a cute guy in a makeup store.

"Why are those women talking about you like that?" He asks in a whisper, leaning down so only you will hear his question.

You look up at him with a bit or surprise since you didn't expect him to pick up on that, before you smile, "They're attracted to you, and they think that I was being selfish with taking you away from their advances."

"Selfish? Advances?" He looks confused, but you only smile and turn back to the display case.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it, Leggy my boy."

"Leggy?" He asks slowly, looking at you in confusion.

"Leggy." You confirm with a nod with a distracted hum.

It isn't much later that you have everything you need, and so you go to the checkout and buy everything.

"Going to the convention?" The girl at the counter asks with a smile.

You smile back and nod your head, glancing up at Legolas before looking back at her, "That obvious?"

"No of course not, just the items in your basket always fly off the shelves around convention time." She replies with a giggle, ringing up all your items.

"Well, that's fair." You muse, putting your card into the reader to pay for it.

Once everything is in order she hands you your receipt and adds, "Maybe I'll see you there."

"Maybe!" You chirp back happily, liking the nice conversation going on here.

"You and your boyfriend have a good day now!"

You elect to ignore that.

---

On the way home you pretend to not notice the black car following yours and make small talk with the elf, answering some more of his questions and speaking idly on different things.

"There are so many odd, interesting things here..." He comments after a while, glancing out the back window. "Are you aware that, that car has been following us for the past 10 minutes?"

You nod and hum as an answer, "Mmhm, it's just Brian. He's probably trying to figure out who you are."

The blond knits his eyebrows together and glances back to look at the car again, "Should I do something about it?"

"The only thing you can do is ignore it. He went from lowercase 's' stalker to uppercase 's' since you guys arrived, and it'll only get worse if you intervene." You mumble, trying not to look in the rearview mirror at him. "It's fine."

"You don't seem to think it's fine." He challenges in the same even tone, turning in his seat towards you.

Instead of answering his question you look at him while you stop at a light and grumble, "I told you to put your seatbelt on."

"It's uncomfortable."

"I don't care."

"I will be fine."

"Not if we get into a crash, you won't."

The two of you stare each other down before he slowly reaches up and buckles his belt, never breaking eye-contact.

"Good boy." You coo in a way-too sweet voice.

"Anyways, I know we said as much before, but you needn't worry about that man while we're here." He continues despite your obvious subject change.

"I know." Your reply is softer and less defensive this time, for you really do appreciate it, "Thank you."

He looks surprised at your sudden gratitude, and his expression shows as much "For what?"

"For being you. For looking out for me. All of you."

This time he smiles and says no more.

---

When you both get back to your house you immediately put everything in your bathroom and get onto your laptop to view some techniques on theatrical and movie makeup, Pippin and Merry on either side of you while they view through the pictures and videos with you.

"That one looks interesting." Merry pipes up suddenly, pointing at a person to wolf makeup transformation.

"Yep, and way past anything I can do."

This pattern of going through pictures and viewing clips goes on for a little while until they two hobbits depart to have lunch, meanwhile you continue on so that tomorrow will be a success.

You're both excited and nervous at the same time, wanting to see how it'll all turn out but also dreading it incase something goes wrong.

You know the most important thing is to have a positive mindset about it, but it's kinda hard sometimes during your more anxious moments.

Also, there's the issue of Brian possibly following all of you...

Nah, that'll be a problem to think on for tomorrow.

"What time will we leave tomorrow?" Aragorn asks from his usual spot on the rocking chair, Penny still nestled in his lap as per usual.

"Around the morning. I bought the tickets already so we won't have to stand in line for too long... Hopefully."

"Thank you for working so hard so that we may see more of your world." He comments suddenly, stroking his hand down her fluffy back.

You tilt your head to the side and smile a bit, "You don't have to thank me."

"No, I do. You have seen to our every need and we no doubt pose to be a huge burden. Thank you, really."

His words make you flush slightly, and you look away shyly.

You've grown to care about all of them, so of course you would do anything to keep them comfortable at this point. More than anything you're just glad they see how much you're trying to make things easy on them. It feels nice being recognized for your efforts.

Plus, the added protection from Brian is pretty sweet.

"Anything for you guys."

#the fellowship x reader #the fellowship of the ring #the fellowship of the ring x reader #frodo baggins #pippin took #boromir #lotr gimli #legolas greenleaf #samwise gamgee #merry brandybuck #aragorn #lord of the rings fanfiction #dimension jumping pt. 5 #dimension jumping pt. 2 #frodo x reader

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notnctu · 5 years ago

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sugar | s.j ❀

━ listen to: sugar by brockhampton

❀ johnny suh x fem!reader ❀ genre - smut, angst, fluff? ❀ details - fwb!au, kinda unrequited love? who knows lol, sweet love makin ❀ word count - 2k ❀ synopsis - he’s always a call away, ready to love you when you think no one else will. and this will be the one time you ask him to spend the night because johnny suh is the only sweetener you need in your bitterness.

❀ a/n: hello its author doie❀! its based off of the song sugar which is one of my favs ever so i hope u enjoy this smut, rlly this was just me avoiding explicit words lol ps i have never laughed harder in my life when @legendnct (ily hannah) asked me if i was J O R N Y when i told her i was writing this at 4am

The honey dripping, rush of candy goodness, and sugar high of a man --- Johnny Suh. He’s like walking on sunshine, no other cares in the world can harm him, and with a bright happiness that promises anything worth fighting for.

He stands six feet tall of sunflowers that turn up to the clear blue skies and soak up the positive energy needed for growth. Johnny Suh, the man that has sugar addicts craving for a slice of his attention; Johnny Suh is the epitome of goodness and virtue.

And the puzzling, estranged question of why you are his subject of sweetness is beyond any galaxy and he’d never tell a soul his reason behind his many dazed gazes, or if they even had much meaning to them. Johnny Suh is the one boy that wears his heart on his sleeve, but holds your’s at his fingertips.

There have been many countless encounters of long and, some unfortunately short, nights of sleeping with bodies that only add to the list of people you’ve kissed. But to have consistency in that aspect? Quite hesitant, to say the least.

While you are able to tolerate a random one night stand with no necessary remembrance of the individual’s name, to give your vulnerability and consistent attention to one person is asking for too much. A flawed characteristic of yours is falling in love too easily.

The hookups are meaningless, quick fucks to fill the evening and rid the irritable desire of lust. The muscles involved exclude the heart because there is no opportunity to fall for someone if you are only going to part ways right afterwards.

Yet, the one remarkable night with Johnny turned into several nights which led into your current relationship with the glowing sun. The one thing you had wished to steer away from --- a friend with benefits.

There was no metaphorical gun to your head, you weren’t forced to sign a contract, there were no ridiculously restrictive rules. No boundaries to hold you back.

When there is no fencing around the edge of a cliff, is that grounds for people to free fall? Regardless, your lack of self control and demising loneliness had you jumping and falling into Johnny’s comfort. The golden boy is someone hard to come by, and you’re not foolish enough to turn down this once in a lifetime chance to be intimately acquainted.

But as you continued to see him, there was an unconscious decision to stop your other random flings. It felt like you already had someone to fulfill the ache, someone to spend your nights with. If you needed him, he’d be there. So, unknowingly by choice, you made yourself exclusive to him, even though Johnny did not decide to do the same.

That shouldn’t bother you, right? But it does. The worst part is that it’s no one’s fault but your own. Johnny’s harmless actions affect you because your feelings allow them to. As much as you ignore the fact you two are nothing more than friends with benefits, the annoying drumming of your foolish heart reminds you of your denial.

While you’ve always had a bitter palette, the dash of sweetener never hurt anyone. He never hurts anyone, with his best efforts. And the intent should have been made clear, that your nightly hookups are an unhealthy coping mechanism. Too much sugar has your glucose levels derailing and seeking out the one person that lights up your endorphins.

The love for Johnny stems from his warmhearted character. His bubbly, goodwill nature that has him overextending himself for people who take him for granted. An extroverted, head-turning personality that you can’t despise and look away, instead are easily attracted to.

Johnny is kind, he’s thoughtful, yet entirely complex as a human being with a fair share of cloudy days. He is simply someone you want to get to know because he makes the atmosphere a safe space and he reads like an open hardback book.

Everyone has a small crush on him, it would be a complete tyranny of your feelings to deny it. Some infatuations are bigger than others and you’ll shamefully admit that you fit under this group of individuals.

On another lonely night, you wonder if he’d be at your will and call, if he would drop the world to come make you feel better. One moment, you are staring at his contact name and imaging the deep voice answering with his signature greeting. The next, you’re actually hearing his voice on the other end of the receiver and panic settles as it’s too late to cancel the call.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” The nickname sends a crown of hearts swirling around your temples. However, he sounds rushed, like he had been in the middle of a strenuous activity.

A nervousness has stammered words falling from your lips, and you’re too incoherent for even your own mind to understand. Johnny chuckles lovingly, and the slight rustling that distorts the background has you imagining that the phone is pressed between his cheek and shoulder. “Collect your thoughts, babe. I’m ready whenever you are.”

A heavy notable sigh erupts into Johnny’s ear, but he doesn’t pull away from the device. He’s all ears, attentive and patiently waiting for you to speak, despite having company on his bed.

“I need you. Can you come over?” If only pride wasn’t so hard to swallow, the question would have flowed much smoother. As if your heart grew hands, it chokes your throat from the inside and you’re preparing yourself for the rejection.

Truthfully, he isn’t obligated to come and there have been rare nights where he declines your offer. But your hope holds onto the slipping strands and the tension of your nerves have fists forming and eyes squeeze shut.

Johnny takes a fast peek at the girl already in his sheets, mindlessly and effortlessly scrolling through her social media. There is a hint of sadness in your voice that he can’t let go and while that’s usually not entirely uncommon, he can tell it took a lot for you to call tonight. So, he finds himself pulling up his sweats and a clean shirt over his head.

“Be there before you know it.” And the clench in your throat relaxes, along with the other parts that had your nails digging moon crescents into your palm and wrinkles forming at your tight creases.

And with a sweet goodbye, he hangs up the call and politely offers to take the girl home as he makes his way over to your place. And you’re dosing yourself in puffs of fruity scents and cleaning up the runny mascara around your under eyes.

With no words exchanged, Johnny knows every way to heal you and dawn a warmth that coats your darkest corners. All you have to do is open the door and let him in. His strength has you lifted from the ground, lips hungry to devour your softness.

A few fumble steps, he reaches your room at ease and gently lays you on your neatly made sheets. Johnny is consistent, no missed beats when it comes to loving you, and without a fail, he always takes a moment to himself to step back and admire your beauty. And your priceless shyness is also an added delight to the scene.

Each article of clothing is discarded and left at different areas of your small room, kisses lining your worst parts to you, but the best parts to him. When you can’t love parts of yourself, Johnny loves them for you and makes you whole.

“Were you in the middle of something?” It did not become aware to you of the possibility that you had interrupted something else, or someone else. And even if Johnny did choose to see you over spending time with them, you have the decent courtesy to make sure he is okay with his decision.

“Nothing important.” You’ll never be able to read him or notice any lies he tells. His smile is enough reassurance, and your question is quickly forgotten when his fingers dive into your wet flower. He uses his thumb to soothe circles around your growing bud, making your whole lower half blossom with trembling ecstasy.

His lips leave soft reminders to love your thighs, your legs, to not overlook their importance: they carry your graciousness into new ventures. Then, he pushes them wide open as he bends your left knee and your right dangles over his sturdy shoulder. The tight grip on your hip is bound to leave marks the next morning, along with the dark love bites he leaves across your canvas.

But his thoughts are focused on the meal ahead, your sugary juices coat the plush of his tongue. He remembers exactly how you like it, where melodic sounds hit the silence in gasps or groans. He suckles, he licks, he kisses your bead in a speed that has his brown locks tangled in between your fingers.

He drinks up more than your wetness, but also the pure image of your fucked out expression and the twists of your reacting body. He wants to surpass your limits, max you out until there isn’t a hint of melancholy in your tone anymore. To remember, to remind, to recall your happiness through heightened pleasure.

At the announcement of your high, he enters your spasming hole with rubber already on and groans at your walls squeezing around him, which halts him in place. However, the dragged movement of his length hits your sweet spot, your orgasm prolongs into a rapturous euphoria and you’re no longer in control of your body.

Johnny’s toned arms hold you close to him. The chemistry in your gazes has your heart pounding faster than his hips. As ruthless as each thrust is and each push moves you an inch upward on the bed, Johnny’s eyes are still kind and loving.

His fluttering kisses are delicate and nurturing. The marks resemble a healing touch that will settle you enough for the next day. For the night, he rids any angst that corrupts your mood by loving you when you think no one else will.

Together, your bodies fall into one another with a bite of elation as he finishes into the protection and your walls hug around him for the last time tonight. Even when your bodies disconnect, the feeling of fullness lingers and you wish to keep this for as long as you can. No more emptiness, not right now.

Perhaps it's the daze of your orgasm, but your hand reaches for his wrist to stop him from making his exit so soon. Selfishly, carelessly, honestly, this will be the one time you ask for him to spend the night. You can’t stand seeing him go, not at this instant. You refuse to spend one more night alone when your heart longs for him to be by your side when you fall asleep.

While the big heart of his beats speechlessly at your request, he lays down to draw you into his toned chest and pampers your forehead with honeyed pecks. Like many times before, no words need to be exchanged for him to know the remedy to your somber.

Possibly, the scene with Johnny caressing your chin and tracing your smile lines is all too perfect for your imperfect reality. And him whispering and wishing a happier narrative for you is more than what you had asked for. Nonetheless, he’s very good at it, mentally noting the fact that he’s probably done the same to other hookups or broken friends.

While you can get used to this form of aftercare, the guards you put up tell you that this is a one time thing. So, you’ll take and indulge all of Johnny’s affection and false love for the next few hours you had left of the night.

Nevertheless, even sweetness can be an overpowering flavor when consumed in tremendous amounts. And you wonder when you’d grow sick of his candied sugar or if you’d just forfeit your health to keep indulging more into your addiction. A sickly saccharine question of your own will be the pit of your downfall: do you love me?

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subbing-for-clones · 4 years ago

Text

The New Apprentice Part 4

Maul x sith!reader

Word Count: 3k

WARNINGS: Fear, graphic depictions of death and fire, slight gore. Mentions of slavery again, being tortured. Thoughts of suicide. But I promise it's also fluffy.

PREVIOUS NEXT MASTERLIST

Without a sun to draw you from your slumber this ‘morning’ you were not the first one to wake. When you opened your eyes there was a dim light from a data pad a few inches from your face. Headlining something about a new attack against the Duchess of Mandalore by a terrorist group. Your head was too fuzzy to make the words out so you simply closed them again. Bringing you back into the world were two realizations. One, your head was gently rising and falling. Two, you felt warm fingers drawing light, rhythmic circles on your lower back. If you weren't slightly hung over you would have sworn that you heard a gentle purr beneath your ear.

You caressed your cheek on whatever you were laying on. "Are you awake dear?" That low velvety voice you recognized asked you. Opening your eyes again, fighting through the daze you took in the details around you. Your arm was wrapped around Maul’s waist while your leg lay over the top of his thighs supporting the back of the data-pad. His lovely red and tattooed fingers brushed against your thigh as he held the device in place and slowly scrolled through the article. You tilted your head up to your master quickly realizing how close your faces were. He smirked down at your heavily lidded eyes. "How's your head?"

"Not as bad as I would've guessed if I'm being honest."

"Good." He stated turning his attention back to the news article. "I would've made some caf but as you can see you've kept me pinned to this spot all morning." Redirecting your eyes to the story he was reading you stated simply, "eh I'm not sorry. If you wanted your caf that bad you would have just moved me or woken me up for that matter." You felt the rumble in his chest as he chuckled.

"You're not wrong."

A few more minutes passed in a comfortable silence; you hadn't moved. Maul made a mental note of your comfortability as well as his own. You didn't know this but you were the first living thing to touch him so gently and for so long. Every time your skin came into contact with his made him feel like it was a first and every time you parted, he feared it would be the last. You yourself hadn't been touched kindly in quite a long time either and relished in the contact. Grateful for now that it wasn't talked about. It just happened.

"Do you think this Mandalorian Duchess will be assassinated?" You asked.

"Not if the Death Watch wish to seize power. The people of the planet wouldn't support them. She has the love of her citizens for now and that I believe is what's keeping her in her station." You hummed in agreement at his statement.

Maul sighed and put the data-pad on the table next to the bed and ran his fingers through your hair absent-mindedly. You looked up at him. He ran his thumb across your cheek and gazed into the eclipse of your eyes. His own pupils dilated just slightly before he blinked and looked away.

"Come, as comfortable as this is, we should both get some food in our systems." Your stomach rumbled just as he said this causing him to smirk. "It seems as though my timing, as usual, is perfect."

Reluctantly you rolled over and stretched, causing the tunic you wore to rise dangerously high. Maul noticed this. The two of you made your way to the common area. He made the caf and you fried up some large mystery eggs you found in the cooler after verifying with him that they were in fact food.

"So master, what's on the schedule today?" You asked before stuffing your mouth greedily with the hot breakfast.

"You're going to practice your patience. Meditation. I was lax with you yesterday but were going to be traveling quite a bit and we can't play sabacc constantly."

"Anything I should focus on?"

"Well albeit odd, you made quite the connection with that rancor. See if you can't reach out and keep tabs on him. Or something else of your choosing. Try to reach out as far as you possibly can. I'm interested in your limits." You nodded your head and drank your caf.

You spent some time stretching before sitting down back-to-back with your master on the floor. You closed your eyes and allowed the heavy blanket of the force to swallow you up until you no longer felt the metal floor beneath you.

Images of the forest on Dathomir became clear. The swaying of the surroundings as if you were looking through Angel's eyes. You were glad he was okay. Then something else tried to take over. You let it happen. The old man who taught you sabacc appeared. "There's no need to hide little one. I won't sell you off or hurt you. You look hungry. Here.... where are your parents?"

The vision changed and you were standing in the center of your village. The jedi that came to test you spoke without feeling, without caring, "no we can't take her. She’s far too emotional, chaotic even. If we teach her to use the force she will only be consumed by hatred, evil and darkness." Tears fell from your small eyes, only three or four years old. "I'm not evil..." Then everything was burning, your friends were screaming and you ran. You ran to your home which was overwhelmed by the inferno. Your mother was crawling out of the front door on her belly completely engulfed in the flames. Her skin half burned away and eyes melting. She tried to say something to you but the only sound she could muster was a throaty gurgle of blood before her life rattled away.

You turned to run, your mother's gurgling screaming in your ears. You kept sprinting until you were older, chasing a small prey animal in the wilds of an unknown planet you had traveled to while stowed away on a transport. Catching it in your hands, you were so hungry you tore into the crying creature, blood dripping down your chin.

More fire blazed around you. Mountains of scrap. Again, you were eating live vermin but your legs didn't feel like yours. You couldn't feel them at all. Eight spindly legs of scrap clumsily carried you down a hole. You screamed a name that felt foreign on your tongue until your throat burned.

Your arms were chained to a ceiling, dangling you so your toes just brushed the dirt floor. You won't submit. He whipped you until you were drenched in your own blood, convulsing from the electricity but you didn't scream. You didn't cry. You felt your savior's presence like the shadow on a wall. You knew he'd come for you... eventually. All you had to do was hold on. To wait for him.

There he knelt in front of you. While you were bound in the market place. The Zygerrian removed your blindfold, your eyes cold as he looked into them but your mind screaming "PLEASE. PLEASE TAKE ME. GET ME OUT OF HERE. I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE. I DONT WANT TO BE ANYMORE! IT’D NOT FUCKING WORTH IT!”

Your eyes shot open. Utterly blown in fear, in rage, in torment. Once again, your master knelt in front of you but it was different this time. His eyes were soft, worried. He wanted to touch you; his hand outstretched but he didn't know if you wanted to be touched. Instinct made you shrink away and bare your teeth, eyes darting rapidly around the ship. Quickly accounting every detail to ensure this wasn't a vision. Once you were almost convinced you crawled back to your master and with a shaky hand you reached and touched his face. You felt him, he was real. Only then did you settle, pushing the beast back down inside you.

Maul's nails dug into his thighs as he went over in his mind everything he had seen. He looked to you again, you wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Please know I didn't try to go inside your mind Y/N.." he used your name and spoke softly.

"A door appeared in front of me, I didn't know what lay beyond so I opened it and I saw... everything, felt what you felt." He paused "I know you saw one of my memories, before Savage found me."

Only then did you look at him, apologetically. "I'm sorry master I don't know what happened."

"Were you going to kill yourself if I didn't take you from that slaving scum?" Genuine concern shown in his eyes and shame flickered across yours. You sighed a single "yes." He nodded in understanding. He inched a little closer to you. "Do you still think about doing that?"

"Master... it's been 20 years since I lost my family, my village.. and 15 years since that man taught me to play the cards... it had been 15 years since someone cared that I ate or didn't outright try to harm me or kill me. Until you and Savage came along. No, I don't want that anymore." He lunged towards to and pulled you tightly into a fierce embrace. One hand gripping your back and the other woven in your hair.

"Please know my life is better with you in it little one." You inhaled deeply with your face nestled in his neck. Taking in his scent like you'd never smell him again, your arms firm around him as well.

Without thinking you glanced at the chronometer within your view. "Thirteen hours?!" You exclaimed. "It felt like ten minutes." Maul pulled away from you. "Nothing kills time like sleep or meditation."

"Well now I feel like I need the former." You pinched the bridge of your nose and rubbed one of your temples.

"That’s fine but.... I'm not going to dance around it tonight. You're coming with me again."

"Oh you'll find no argument here." You tried to smile but it twitched.

You opted to shower before going to sleep. Clean body clean mind, or so you tried to convince yourself. Maul was waiting for you in his bed, chest bare to you and his back leaning up against the wall. The reflection of the data-pad shining across the lenses of his reading glasses. It would have been a sinful sight if your mind hadn’t been otherwise occupied. He looked up at you, sheepishly standing at the foot of his bed. Setting the device down on his bedside table along with his glasses he leaned forward and stretched his hand out to you. Slowly you crawled up and over to him. He pulled you onto his chest and wrapped you up tightly with the soft fabric. Thrumming of his twin hearts easing the anxiety in your belly.

"We will reach our destination tomorrow."

"I've never been to Corellia before. What’s it like.”

“The inhabitants of Corellia have always been known for an insatiable wanderlust which led to a booming ship building economy. It exports talented pilots and ships while importing just about everything. As far as core worlds go, they don’t ask questions other than ‘what are you buying’.”

You replied with a hum and closed your eyes, allowing his hearts beats to lull you to sleep.

Thinking for just a moment before stifling his worry, Maul brushed his lips lightly to the temple you had rubbed earlier. Feeling a deeper kinship with you after what he had seen and realizing you had a past that wasn’t unlike him own in many ways. He wondered if you found these tender moments with him as intoxicating as he found them? Nothing you had faced in your life stopped you from having fun, finding amusement, allowing yourself to be soft when the opportunity arose. You were stronger than he was in that regard and he admired you for that. He only wanted you to feel kindness from him. He wondered what further depths he would've sunk to if Savage hadn't revived him. He wouldn't have ever known moments like these, where you clung to him in your sleep. He decided he would thank his brother again later.

Corellia was like nothing you had ever seen before. Tall towers reached for the atmosphere itself but without the insufferable heat and dryness of Zygerria. Beings of every species chattered happily in the streets. The city of Coronet 'the Jewel of Corellia' as many of the lit signs read, was nestled against an expanse of water. Your master had given you a heavy purse of credits and sent you on your way to shop and enjoy the city. Saying only that'd he'd find you when he was done refueling and stocking up on the more boring items needed for your travels. One of the locals pointed you in the direction of Treasure Ship Row. A bazaar that you could supposedly find anything anyone could ever look for; at least, according to the Twi’lek who pointed you in its direction.

You had never held even a fraction of the money Maul had given you, you felt like a Queen passing through the many shops and held your head high. You had all but forgotten you didn't even have shoes until you found a little shop with lovely dresses in the window.

The shop girl was kind and inviting despite your disheveled appearance. Sure that she had taken note of the large purse that hung from your hip. She aided in your search until you had a nice stack of both appealing and practical clothing.

You allowed yourself to be pampered at a nearby day spa the clerk had recommended to you so that you didn’t get your new clothes and shoes dirty so quickly. Utterly famished after your day you found a relatively clean little bar deeper inside the Blue Sector.

Taking a seat at the counter it didn't take long before a deep voiced Kel Dor took your order. Flashing a grateful smile, you dug into your fried Nuna Legs and sipped from a glass of red wine. A handsome Chiss, you assumed was a mechanic by his dress, took the seat next to you at the counter and gave you a wanting side eye.

"No." You stated curtly not looking up from your glass.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask." He smiled and ordered a malt liquor while the Kel Dor poured you a second.

"The nature of your question doesn't matter. The answer is no." You hadn't turned to him until he chuckled. You raised your brow.

"I was going to ask what a lovely flower like you was doing here. That's not a yes or no question." Sighing you turned to him realizing that you weren't going to get rid of him so easily. You eyed him slowly, he really was handsome despite the streak of grease across his cheek. He flashed you a charming smile you were sure he had rehearsed.

"I can see you've enjoyed the market."

"I have. And although I must say I appreciate the red of your eyes, this lovely flower prefers her companions to have thorns rather than grease stains." You turned back towards your drink sensing your master before you saw him.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" The Chiss asked genuinely confused. You smirked into your drink when you heard Maul clear his throat. The stranger looked back vaguely frustrated and widened his eyes as your master removed his hood revealing his crown of ivory horns.

"Oh, don't be frightened on my account. You're doing wonderfully."

The Chiss quickly left the seat and your master called out to him with a complete lack of tone or emotion. "No, don't go. I'd hate to take your seat."

Both you and the Kel Dorrian bar keep chuckled at his candor as Maul took the newly freed seat swinging back the drink the stranger had left. He smirked at you, noting your black cotton romper, keeping the style of a plunging neckline but now your arms bare and your legs covered. He also noticed your newly painted red nails and ruby studs in your ears.

"Wealth looks good on you."

"Wealth looks good on anyone who knows how to spend it." you quirked the corner of your mouth up and tossed the purse back to your master keeping a small handful.

"Is the ship ready?"

"Ah yes, your destiny awaits little one."

You gestured to the man behind the bar and settled your tab, giving him a generous tip. He flustered at the gesture, only answering him with beaming smile. Maul stood and offered you his elbow which you gladly accepted and the two of you sauntered out of the bar, not before blowing a kiss towards the irritated Chiss.

Maul liked the idea of men trying to woo you only to be met with rejection much more than he thought he would. He liked having the eyes of men who wanted you on him as he led you out of the establishment. He had appreciated your looks before, albeit a wild kind of beauty. He had never imagined you to clean up so well though, adorning his colors of black and red. He allowed his mind to drift to the thought of ruling with you by his side, with your chin held high and the power emanating from your soul, you looked incredibly regal with this newfound confidence. Was this your standard demeanor when you weren’t in the role of a student with her master?

You boarded your ship and sat next to your master in the co-pilot’s chair your eyes lit with excitement. "To Malachor?"

"Yes my dear, to Malachor."

#maul x y/n #maul fluff #star wars maul #darth maul #maul x reader #sith warrior #sith reader #sith apprentice #maul x sith apprentice #swtcw au #star wars #starwars au

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writing-the-end · 4 years ago

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LoL Chapter 56- Ancient Quarrels

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Ex returns home with new friends, but struggles with the reality that his old stomping grounds have grown up without him, all while learning more about the history of dark magic.

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“I thought I told you to come alone.” Xisuma states, staring at the rainbow haired twins. No matter how much the two try to blend in, the ever shifting colors of their locks always stand out.

“I thought you could use the help. You clearly need it if you reached out to me.” Ex steps off the pirate ship, followed by the king and his brother. Ex tries his best to keep his gaze on the ground at his feet, the grass, sand, and dirt. He doesn’t want to see what Xisuma and all his friends have done to the safe haven they found together. As brothers. He doesn’t want to see what he's missed, what he’s been too afraid to claim for his own. He doesn’t want to see how much time has changed the island he once called home.

But Ex stumbles over a rock, his books scattering from his arms, while he plummets to the ground. He could let go of his remaining scrolls and books, but these articles are ancient and invaluable. He’d rather break his nose than let go of them.

Lucky for Ex, he doesn’t have to choose. One of the hermits grabs him before he gets a mouthful of dirt. Ex opens his eyes, forced to look at the island. And he sees everything.

It looka exactly the same. It looks completely different. The grounds were the same- the same rocky shores, soft beaches, hills, forest, even the lake at the center on the north side of the island. The grass the same green color, the sky the same blue, the distant mist and waves dancing together. But dotting the island now stood a menagerie of buildings. Where there used to only be the tower of stone he and X built, now a glass biodome rests on one side, a barn on the other. Smoke rolls free from the chimney of a weaponsmith’s house, and just off the island a cloud floats low, the white tower upon it open to the breeze of the sea.

Ex collects his books, and slinks off to the guild hall. Sor follows Grian to help with Apatia, to make the decision on how to move forward with his recovery. Tris follows behind Ex, taking in the open sea and sky. So unlike Milliara.

It was exactly that which drew the void twins here in the first place. They dared enter the Ashioll sea because it was quiet, peaceful, unlike Milliara. Back when there were only two- they didn’t need anyone more. They didn’t want anyone more. In the end, Ex got to be alone, moreso than ever. Without even a brother.

Being back on Eremita was painful, but as a healing wound would be. For the first time in years, his brother reached out to him. For the first time, they were putting aside the argument so long ago and working together. Like they did when they were young.

At the same time, both X and Ex set out their books on the same table. At the same time, like mirror images of one another, they set out their maps, their inkwells, their quills, even their books ordered the exact same way. The similarities between the two were uncanny, leaving the hermits baffled as they watch them. If it wasn’t for Ex’s white hair, it’d be impossible to tell them apart.

Ex speaks first, pulling the red fabric of his cloak away from his face so the hermits can hear him. “The last known insurgence of dark magic was over a thousand years ago. Before Lairyon became a kingdom, near the end of the ancient ones’s time. As we all know, Addows is the only place that still has significant and readable history of the ancient ones. Everything disappeared just like them.”

“And no one knows why.” Tris adds in, sitting down and plucking a book. He flips through the pages. “The ancient ones had magic more powerful than most wizards. Very few forms of ancient powers survive today- including angelic magic.”

The hermits look at Grian, but he simply shrugs. He knows nothing about the ancient ones, just that they’re… well, ancient. Iskall speaks up, resting his cheek on his hand. “Could it be that it was the dark magic that wiped them out?”

Both of the void twins and Tris shake their head, and begin to answer at the same time. Ex and X glare at one another, and Tris takes the moment to answer instead. “No, it’s not like there’s a sign of a fight, or a struggle, or anything. Just...one day they were all over this kingdom, and then- poof, gone.”

“But the ancient ones weren’t the only people here. The kiplings have been living in these waters longer than anyone. And if we cross reference the information King Sormena gave me access to in the royal library, and the deep sea libraries of the Kiplings, we can start to get an inkling of understanding.”

“My gods you’re so boring even now.” Xisuma groans. “We dont need the whole story, and Lairyon doesn’t have time. What did you learn and how can we use it to defeat Dolios?”

“Well…” Ex bits his lip. “We didn’t learn how they defeated the dark magic all those times before. But we did find the location of one of their lost cities. Tris and I believe it could even be the ancient capital of theirs.”

The hermits groan, some even dramatically flopping back in their chairs. It seems all they ever have are breadcrumbs, leading them around in circles all across Lairyon. TFC speaks up first, though even he seems exhausted. “It’s better than nothing. It’s our only hope at this point. So where is it?”

“Tris had pinpointed the general location of the lost city in the Ashioll Fjords, but together we were able to determine the exact location.” Ex plucks a quill from the table, dipping the tip in the ink and marking one of the many divots and crests of the northernmost part of Lairyon. All the hermits lean in, peering at the location. It looks no different from any other part of the fjords, or even the rest of Lairyon.

“If anyone knows how to defeat Dolios’s dark magic, it has to be the ancient ones.” Etho states. “They did it before, we just have to do it again.”

It gives the hermits hope to know this isn’t the first time, they aren’t the only ones in all of history to face dark magic. Ex looks up at the hermits, a question that’s been dancing in his mind finding its way to his tongue before he can stop it. “Why did you guys ever decide to do this? What in the world made you guys think you could take on a dark wizard? Be the chosen few like the ancient ones?”

The hermits look at one another, as if they’d find an answer in the stares and faces of their peers. But no one has the answer. Though Joe is more than willing to come up with his own. “Perhaps, in this story, there are no chosen ones. No destiny or prophesied heroes. Perhaps it is just by the choice of normal man, who chooses to make a difference, who chooses to stand up and fight, that is really what makes a hero?”

“Is this what I missed when I left?” Ex questions Xisuma, who nods solemnly.

“What will we find in the lost city?” Grian questions.

“I dunno, it’s lost.” Tris quips, causing Grian to blush when he realizes his question. “But if it’s anything like Addows, you should be prepared for ancient ones magic and the stone buildings they made their cities from. Apart from that- you just gotta look in the right place.”

The hermits realize they’re going in on this blind. Once again, they have little more than a hope, a thread of a lead, taking them somewhere in search of answers. Whether it was Gildara, or the Champion’s Cup, or even the Forest of Memories, they’ve always been chasing the same specter of knowledge. Hoping to find something more.

“But you won’t be alone this time.” Ex points out. The hermits turn to face him, his face so familiar, yet so vastly different. “King Sormena volunteered to go along with you, to give aid on your search.”

Tris averts his gaze, his jaw set tight at the mention of his brother joining the hermits. Doc raises his hand, almost condescending. “Won’t Dolios notice the king is gone?”

“He’s not in Milliara right now. The Wanderers informed me of that- where he is, I don’t know, but this is a rare opportunity that we can’t waste. You’ll need every mind and magic to figure out the puzzles and clues that the lost city may have. I’d best get packing if i were you guys.”

Groups disperse off, back to their homes, caves, ships, and clouds. Once again preparing, as a whole guild, to go off on another adventure. Even Tris disappears, either to go find and argue with his brother, or get a pint of beer from Cleo. But one person stays behind.

Xisuma doesn’t ever look directly at his brother, but he always turns his head just slightly to be able to see Ex shuffling papers. His body is aimed out from the guild hall, looking over, across the island of Eremita. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, X speaks up. “Will you be able to take care of Apatia while we’re gone? I don’t think he can go back to Milliara with you.”

Ex raises an eyebrow. It almost sounds like an invitation to stay on the island. Almost. “I guess if no one else will, I can offer my help. And glean information from him about the magistrate. Perhaps I can talk to Ian about engineering a prosthesis… Kiplings aren’t really meant to live without their fins.”

The void mage shakes his head, listening to his brother continue to ramble on under his breath. So many years apart, and yet the same old Ex. For the first time in years, after so long hating his twin, refusing to talk to him, removing every sign he ever existed on this island, now he’s standing in their guild hall. And for the first time in years, Xisuma feels like he can let go of the anger and tension from that fight so long ago.

Ex steps up beside Xisuma, and the two gaze over Eremita. They watch as Keralis and Zedaph round up sheep for their midday meal, Iskall, Mumbo, and Grian arguing over what kind of redstone they could possibly need on their journey, Wels and False sharpening the blades of their own weapons and others.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but Eremita looks more alive than it ever was when it was just the two of them. The colors of all different wizards, from all walks of life. All a part of this guild that Xisuma has found. All this, that Ex was afraid of. “You’ve done a good job building yourself a home. Finding yourself a family. Guess you didn’t really need me.”

Xisuma turns, and removes his mask. For the first time in years, Ex can see his brother's face. They can both see the scars they left on each other. On their skin and in their hearts. Xisuma’s fingers run along the scratched out marking in the metal. Wishing he could take that fit of anger back and fix it. “I didn’t do this without you, though. When I wasn’t sure what to do, it was always your annoying voice that guided me to the right decision.”

“We have the same voice.” Ex points out.

“Exactly. No matter what, no matter what I did, you were still with me, a part of me. But when I didn't know what to do, I thought about what you would choose. And it always led me in the right direction. Even though you weren’t here, I still needed you. I still needed my brother.”

To hear that word come from Xisuma’s mouth, to hear him call Ex that- brother. All these years, all he ever wanted was his brother back. To have a family again. Ex can feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t want his brother to see him crying over such a simple thing. “I think it’ll be nice to have a family again. It...it feels good to be home.”

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #light of lairyon #wizard hermits #wizard au #hermitcraft fanfic #wizard xisuma #wizard ex #xisuma #evil xisuma #wizard tfc #wizard etho #tinfoilchef #ethoslab

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cl-01-kestis · 4 years ago

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Incorrect Morals

Dismay - Grand Admiral Thrawn x Rebel!Reader | Part 7

Summary: You receive a call from Thrawn once again and spend the night getting lost in conversation, and after a tense negotiation with a team of rebels, you get stuck in a sticky situation with Kallus.

Warnings: slight romance, angst (literally all these chapters have angst i-) (I’m also sorry to all of you Kalluzeb shippers. I do ship it very much but it isn’t a thing in this story 🥺)

Chiss translations:

Ch'ah tsucarah = I promise

Rab nor rah vah k'ir ch'at rihn? = but only if you do the same?

Ch'ah csarcican't, k'ir nah can'a about ch'ah = I will, don’t worry about me

Ch'ah’ll can'a about vah veah ch'otco veah ch'ah ran'as, non ch'pae = I’ll worry about you as much as I want, now go

It was 10:45 PM.

The sky dimmed into a pitch black and Omani had gone to bed due to how mentally and physically exhausted she was, mostly because of the journey and the fact she had seen her dad in person for the first time and her mind wouldn’t shut up about it. As for you, you had just gotten out of the shower. It had been a long day and your visit to Naboo had been cut short due to obvious circumstances and you felt the need to clean up.

You stood in front of the comunual refresher mirror, drying your hair with a spare towel you had lying about as your body was on full show. No one used the refreshers at this time of night so you didn’t necessarily need to cover up.

You brought your bag to the showers since you went in a refresher as soon as you undressed from your Senator outfit. You scrubbed your hair and body, unable to shake the feeling of anxiety off your skin as you washed yourself under the cold water.

The towel soaked up all the water on your body as you dried your hair and flung the towel around your shoulder. Your body was cold against the cool air coming into the showers, but you found it pleasant, it made you feel comfortable. You brushed your hair and put on clean briefs and a black sports bra after putting deodorant on. The towel was still draped around your shoulders and neck, catching whatever water droplets left your strands of hair and making sure none of them soaked your bra. You slid your legs through a pair of black leggings, shimmying your hips into them and bending your legs slightly so they could adjust and not fall down.

You shuffled around in your bag and grabbed ahold of your holo device, switching it on as you washed your face in the mirror. You scrolled through the news articles that came up on the holonet, nothing too exciting was going on at the moment apart from the galactic war. A twi’lek presenter was broadcasting the daily reports for the New Republic, her face plastered with a fake smile as she read off the papers sorted nearly in front of her. You watched with a bored expression, listening in loosely as you put on some deodorant and whistled a small song to yourself.

As you rubbed your hair with the towel some more, a small incoming call notification popped up on your holo device and you stopped to look and inspect the number with squinted eyes. It was Thrawn.

Sighing to yourself, you accept the call and turn around to make sure no one’s coming in as his holo image illuminated in front of you on the bathroom sink. You were met with a tired looking Thrawn, now wearing a white long sleeved T-shirt and his hair no longer layered by gel. You looked at one another for a brief second, Thrawn’s scarlet eyes looking down at your torso and realising you were wearing only a sports bra before returning his gaze to yours in a respectful manner, he made no comment.

“Hello again,” Thrawn managed a small, warm smile. You repeated his actions and let the corner of your lip curl up as you ruffled your hair some more with the towel and placed it on the counter of sinks after.

“Hey” You mumbled back, resting your palms on the edge of the sink just so you had something to lean on. Your posture was relaxed but your shoulders seemed tense, that’s what Thrawn noticed as you rolled your neck around your shoulders to relieve some tension. You looked stressed.

“I want to apologise for today, I didn’t realise you were going to be attending” He sighed, fumbling with the hem of his T-shirt sleeves as he kept his eyes on you, doing his best not to look away out of shame. You shook your head, turning around so your hips leaned against the sink.

“It’s alright, I’m not judging you for doing your job” You noted, crossing your arms and smiling in an assuring manner at Thrawn who took some relief towards that, his body relaxing slightly as his eyes grew soft.

“I do feel embarrassed though, I also want to apologise for Pryce” He continued, causing you to cringe and frown at the mentioning of that woman’s name.

“Don’t be sorry for someone who isn’t; you don’t need to cover up her tracks, she worked beside me a few times back when I was an Imperial after all, so I know what kind of person she is” You corrected Thrawn quickly, gaze turning fierce and angry but it wasn’t directed towards him. Your face scrunched up in displeasure for a moment, hands clutching at your bare upper arms and trying to ignore the rising frustration building up inside you.

“She is... dull to work with, so I don’t blame you” Thrawn’s words made you chuckle and nod in agreement, your eyes unconsciously staring at him for a bit too long until you quickly cleared your throat and ran a hand through your scalp.

“It was a pleasant surprise to see you today” Your words projected veracity, and Thrawn felt his heart beat flare up in anticipation at that single comment, even if it wasn’t a massive one. He bit back a smile and nodded his head.

“As with you, Rcati,” Thrawn beamed, some strands of loose navy hair falling in front of his eyes that made your heart skip a beat, or were you just imagining things?

“I must admit, you looked very beautiful, I can’t recall ever seeing you in a dress” Thrawn leaned back with the support of his arms, it made you realise he wasn’t sitting in his chair but maybe the floor? You weren’t sure, but it certainly wasn’t his chair.

“Dresses aren’t my thing, I only need to wear them for the Senate to make a ‘positive impression’” You used your two fingers on each hand to make a sarcastic emphasis on the last part, and it warmed your heart to see Thrawn chuckle in response.

“I know the feeling, it’s all about positive impressions now a days. But how has it been? Being a Senator?” Thrawn looked more and more excited the more he spoke and asked you things, his eyes sparkled with interest and his mouth never stopped curling up as he looked right at you. You reminded yourself that this was the real Thrawn you were talking to, not the Thrawn you saw back at the Senate. As scary as he could he, this was as real as he could get, and you were grateful he showed this side of himself to you, even after years of not speaking to him. The trust was still there.

“It’s been tiring, I’ve not been working recently but all the travelling and meeting new people really drains you” You answered frankly, scratching the back of your neck as Thrawn hummed softly. He seemed to study you in a subtle sense as you awaited his answer, he trapped his chin between his thumb and index finger and his eyes stayed unfocused for a few seconds.

“You hate both of those things, i genuinely can’t believe you took a career as a Senator- I mean, you dreamed of being a soldier your whole life, why not do that with the rebels?” Thrawn’s voice held interest as he tilted his head slightly and a few more strands of his hair fell on his forehead. Thrawn frowned and tried fixing the hairs but gave up soon after they kept falling on his face. You noticed it now, Thrawn’s hair was longer than it was when you worked with him at the Empire. He had it cut much shorter, but now it was at least a few inches longer. Of course it wasn’t as long as his hair used to be on Csilla, but you’d give a lot to see him with that hair again. He suited it more than you wanted to admit.

“The reason is our daughter, and I’m too busy to be a soldier now. The fear of dying in battle and leaving Omani alone terrifies me, I could never do that to her... I’m the only person she has at the moment” Your voice lowered the more you spoke, gaze drifting off to think about the scenario you feared most. Thrawn nodded his head, understanding what you were getting at and doing his best to try and emotionally sympathise with you.

He wasn’t good at emotions, he never was. He feared weakness, and made little to no efforts to connect with anyone in the Empire what so ever. It was a cold life for him, but now he felt he had to do something, anything, to connect with you. He never realised it until you left, but Thrawn liked you, a lot, and not just for the sex or company. If anything, he loved you. And the thought of you disappearing again made him nauseous, completely sick to his stomach with anxiety, and that was something he had never experienced before. Pure and utter dread.

“That’s a fair point, I wouldn’t want her being left alone” Thrawn returned his gaze to you and he took his time to study you until you looked back at him. Your body hadn’t changed that much since he last saw it, but he noticed the stretch marks peeking out of the hem of your leggings, it was obviously from your pregnancy. The sight made his heart swoon.

If there’s one thing Chiss are always proud of, it’s having a family and a mother or father to have their kin. Thrawn’s gotten so used to the fact he was a father throughout the last few days, he forgot about all the worries and concerns he had about the Empire just by looking at Omani’s face. He didn’t even know her, hell, he didn’t even know she existed until recently, but he already felt so much pride. That was his daughter, a daughter that you gave him. And the thought of you looking after Omani for so long, and risking so much to keep her safe, made Thrawn utterly fall in love with you. Not that he wasn’t in love with you before.

“She was at the Senate today as well, wasn’t she?” Thrawn raised a brow, bending his knee up to rest his elbow on it. Okay, he was definitely sitting on the floor, or his bed maybe.

“She was, she saw you and freaked out” You chuckled, making the situation more lighthearted and trying to avoid telling Thrawn about how scared she was, you didn’t want him becoming guilty.

Thrawn sighed. “She smiled at me though, I guess that’s a starting point”. Your smile widened at his comment.

“Omani will come around eventually, hopefully when the war ends, then maybe-“ maybe we could be a family. You cut yourself off before you said anything else, wincing internally after realising you said too much and would probably be questioned by Thrawn about it. Your face was hot with embarrassment and you cleared your throat to waft away the tension.

“Maybe...?” Thrawn persuaded with curiosity, leaning forward and raising his other leg up so he was sitting more comfortably. You looked away from Thrawn and pinched the bridge of your nose, waving away his comment and trying not to get butt hurt about thinking too much about what you desired more than anything in the world.

“Just getting ahead of myself, that’s all” Your voice was quiet but clear enough for the Chiss to hear. You sniffed but no tears were in your eyes, thankfully for your sake. But that didn’t stop Thrawn from wondering desperately what was on your mind. He practically knew you when you were a baby, your parents knew his very well and he bonded with you the moment he met you; him being 5 years old and you, a new born. But when you became an adult, he wanted to know what you were thinking, what you were perhaps feeling, maybe - and hopefully - feelings towards him? He could never crack you, and now he was faced with the same issue.

“I won’t push, but whatever it is, it’s obviously bothering you” You sucked in a breath at Thrawn’s statement. He was right, he knew he was. Were you ready to tell him though? You only spoke to him once before now, after 14 years, but somehow your feelings for him have never changed. If anything they’ve grown stronger now that you’ve got a direct link; Omani.

“It is bothering me, and it has for the longest time... but I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it just yet” You clutched the edge of the sink and ground your teeth, afraid you said too much all together. You felt like keeping your feelings from him was unfair, he done nothing but tell the truth to you and he proved his loyalty to you after saving you and Omani at the Senate. He might have been Empire, but you and Omani being rebels didn’t stop him from protecting either of you from harms way.

“Do you... remember the nights I’d come over to your office, and we’d just talk? Sex or not, but just... being in each other’s company?” It was a strange question, you knew it, but Thrawn wasn’t confused by what you were getting at, he nodded his head and urged you to continue. You chewed the inside of your cheek nervously and raised your hand up to your mouth to bite at your nails. Thrawn noticed this and reached out on the hologram, his blue, illuminated hand reaching out but unfortunately going right through you. He flinched back, his hand slowly returning to his side and his expression falling.

“Those were some of the best memories of my time at the Empire, with you, and only you” You looked at Thrawn with pure sincerity and he knew instantly you were telling the truth. His throat went dry at your confession and for a second he had no clue how to reply, your words caught him so off guard but he didn’t waste too much time coming up with words to respond with.

“The feeling is mutual, Rcati, you’re the only person I’ve really confided in” Thrawn looked conflicted as he let the words slip through his teeth, the hands you weren’t able to see below the hologram were clenched and his knuckles were light blue. He was struggling to get his emotions out, but he loved to hear you do it.

You said nothing in reply to his comment, you only smiled at him. Looking at you now, Thrawn thought you were stunning. You were glowing as you looked at him with such emotion, the tears visible in your eyes even though none of them spilled and the breathtaking smile covering up half of your face. It truly was a wonderful sight to see, it made him realise for the first time in years that he really needed something like this. The Empire was a tough place to work in, he never knew how much he needed you to keep him afloat until this very moment, even the moments before on the hologram.

You were his life, and you always had been, but he was sad that he was only realising that now. He had known you since birth, known you for 42 whole years and now did he know you were his reason. His reason for what? Life. To carry on. To push through the war until it was over and hopefully see you after it was all over. Omani as well. Maker, he needed Omani just as much as he needed you.

“What’s on your mind?” The Chiss asked in a small, quiet voice, as if someone outside was passing by his chamber door. You ruffled your hair once again with the discarded towel on the sink and rolled your neck around your shoulders, sighing pleasantly at the released tension.

“Us” You answered in a hushed whisper, your mouth snapping shut after the word slipped through your teeth and made it’s way to Thrawn’s attention. He smiled at your reply, looking down shyly at his clasped hands before peeking back up, his scarlet gaze piercing right through you. You felt exposed but you didn’t want to hide, he had seen through you many times before.

“Same with me” He seemed to lean in closer through the hologram, you got a sense you were leaning in too and trying to kiss him, but the distant echo of Rebels chatting to each other caused you to whip your head around to the entrance of the comunual showers. Thrawn seemed to hear it as well and his once calm expression was replaced with a disappointed frown. He wasn’t worried of getting caught, he was pissed your time was cut short.

“I have to go” You whispered, looking back to Thrawn with eyes full of reluctance. He nodded once, running a hand through his face and closing his eyes momentarily, you genuinely thought for a second he done that on purpose just to rouse you up, but you brushed it off your shoulder and cleared your throat.

“Till next time, Rcati ton” Thrawn smirked, his fingers still tangled in the back of his scalp as he leaned forward to the holo device to hang up.

“W-wait” You called out just before he hung up, his gaze raised on you once again and he bit back a smile.

“Take care of yourself, for me?” You blushed, head hung low but your eyes were still connected to his. Thrawn’s face softened and he sent you a small curt nod. “Ch'ah tsucarah” He spoke softly, catching you off guard slightly with his sudden use of Cheunh but you chuckled softly in reply.

“Rab nor rah vah k'ir ch'at rihn?” Thrawn tilted his head to the side, his hand playing with the hairs on the back of his neck which stood on edge, he wasn’t anxious, he was just excited at the interaction between you.

“Ch'ah csarcican't, k'ir nah can'a about ch'ah” You chuckled.

“Ch'ah’ll can'a about vah veah ch'otco veah ch'ah ran'as, non ch'pae” Thrawn ushered in a quiet voice, laughing softly as he spoke which made you too laugh.

“Till next time, Mitth’rawn’nuruodo” You nodded, eventually tapping the red button to end the call and feeling a part of yourself leave with Thrawn the moment the bright blue glow of the hologram disappeared, leaving you alone in the refreshers once again and in the unpleasant white light on the ceiling.

“So we’ve got squadrons coming in left and right, we should relocate our star fleet to somewhere where the Empire doesn’t find our base” You said in a clear voice to those standing around the holo table, including Kallus and Zeb, who had recently returned from a mission with the Phoenix squadron. Hera was standing nearby, listening into the negotiation which you were the chairman of currently, listening in to people’s different ideas and hopefully coming to a mutual conclusion.

Kallus was recording down everything being said, typing frantically on his data pad and gathering all of the different ideas from everyone so you could look into it after the meeting and hopssully come up with an idea to settle things. He was a busy man, he worked his ass off and you noticed how much he cared for this rebellion.

He never changed throughout the years, even if he was a cold hearted Imperial once, so were you. You had your fair share of horrid deeds that you certainly weren’t proud of, and neither was Kallus. But you Teo seemed to be like two peas in a pod when it came to planning meetings and getting a mutual agreement. He was your right arm, always.

“I think we should take the fleet outside of the outer rim” Someone came forward, a young zabrak female with full suited soldier uniform and a sniper attached to her back.

“That might be a good idea, but the outer rim has more New Republic ally’s than outside of it. Still, I shall record that down- Kallus” You regarded the blonde man standing opposite you at the table, his dark eyes focused on you in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You held your stare on him for a moment longer than necessary, before turning your attention back to the zabrak who smiled at you, grateful you took her suggestion into consideration.

“Any other ideas?” You asked, eyes looking around the table in one quick glance before turning to Kallus who pursed his lips at the sudden silence that fell on the group.

“I-uh, pardon me for asking Senator, but weren’t you at the Senate negotiations on Naboo yesterday?” A young rebel man raised his hand with a polite expression on his face. You tensed at his question and nodded.

“Is it true? Was Grand Admiral Thrawn really there?” Another rebel asked with a peeked interest, desperation to know about the events that took place yesterday, the events you were trying so hard to stop thinking about. Kallus’ eyes widened and he felt himself tense for you, this wasn’t going to end as well as you and him had planned.

“It’s true” You sighed, resting your hands on the edge of the holo table and trying your best not to look too uncomfortable about the conversation.

“Woah, how did you get out?” The same rebel asked with a look of astonishment, but you didn’t budge. Your face stayed stone cold and you exchanged an uneasy glance with Kallus who cleared his throat and adjusted his T-shirt collar.

“Save those questions for later, I need you all to focus on the fleet, please” You insisted, hitting your hand slightly on the table with your teeth clenched.

From afar, Kanan and Hera looked at one another, knowing fine well what was going on in your head the moment Thrawn’s name was mentioned. The two of them heard about the events at the Senate, and how you were the one who managed to get Thrawn to prevent any arrests from happening. There had been chatter around the rebel base, and Hera was fearing for you. If your secrets got out, you would be untrustworthy amongst the rebels. And that was the last thing she wanted for you, especially with Omani by your side.

“Meeting dismissed, I shall look at the suggestions and come up with something, for the time being please go and get some rest, it’s late” You waved away all of the rebels who had joined the meeting, bidding them farewell with smiles and nods of the head. Kallus stayed with you and walked around the table once the rebels were away, resting a hand on your shoulder and waiting for you to say something. Instead of words, you unexpectedly grabbed Kallus and wrapped your arms around him, tears brimming at your eyes and lip quivering as you gripped onto his jacket and sniffed. Kallus froze for a second but placed his data pad on the holo table, wrapping his strong arms around you tight and raising a hand to stroke your head.

“It’s alright, shh...” He soothed, rubbing your back and holding onto you as you fought back an army’s tears that started to spill down your face.

“I’m sorry, it’s just been really stressful recently” You cried softly, holding onto Kallus for dear life as he leaned his chin on the top of your head and closed his eyes, the smallest crease next to his eyebrow as he listened to your sobs.

“You don’t need to apologise for anything, just let it out” He encouraged, continuing to stroke your head and doing his best to comfort you.

Leaning back, you looked up at Kallus with glossy eyes, cheeks stained with fallen tears and face hot with humiliation. Kallus cupped your cheek, studying your face before frowning at your state and sighing.

“What’s got you so worked up? Is it Thrawn?” Kallus asked with calm articulation, his hands keeping you in place as you wiped away your tears and nodded your head weakly. You couldn’t verbally say anything in fears you would start crying, and Kallus seemed to understand that. Beneath the worried expression on his face, he was angry. He knew he was going for the wrong person, he knew you’d never be over Thrawn.

But he loved you, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. Ever since Kallus met you on the grounds of the Imperial Palace 16 years ago, far before you fell pregnant, he was smitten with you. Even if he was a higher rank than you, and trained you, and was meant to see you as a mere soldier and nothing more, Kallus always had a soft spot for you.

“I’m going to regret this” Kallus murmured, right before pressing his lips against yours and causing you to freeze in his arms. Your eyes shot wide open, you weren’t expecting this at all. His actions were so sudden and the feeling of his lips against yours made your brain cloud over with endless thoughts. It was nice being kissed, it always had been, but this wasn’t right.

Even though it wasn’t as good as a kiss from Thrawn, you closed your eyes and kissed him back, maybe just to feel something aside from the stress. You hesitantly cupped Kallus’ cheek and tapped it a few times, signalling for him to pull away. You didn’t want the kiss to go any further, you didn’t want to lead him on, and by the looks of it he knew what he had done was a mistake.

“That was nice” You commented with an assuring smile, stroking his cheek with your thumb and making him chuckle awkwardly at your words.

“I’m sorry, I felt like if I didn’t do that any sooner I’d beat myself up” He hung his head low, frowning and probably mentally strangling himself, but you didn’t like the way he looked so sad. He knew you didn’t feel the same way towards him, maybe you did like Kallus, but you weren’t over Thrawn. Either way, you tilted his chin up and kissed him once more. The blonde man sighed against your lips and closed his eyes momentarily before grabbing your hand and taking it away from his face, eventually pulling back once again and frowning.

“What was that for?” Kallus raised a brow, looking confused but also amused at the same time.

“I wanted to even things out” You smiled, nudging him playfully to try and get rid of some of the tension surrounding you both. He seemed to be pleased by your comment and laughed. The sting of rejection was soothed by your kindness and Kallus realised that you didn’t feel any different about your friendship with him. But still, it hurt.

“Are we gonna have to start giving each other goodnight kisses now? Cuz if so-“ You joked.

“No, don’t be silly- unless that’s what you want of course” Kallus joked back with a relaxing demeanour. You rolled your eyes at his comment and shoved him playfully, eventually bringing him in for a hug once again and feeling shitty for not feeling the same towards Kallus.

“Well that was weird” Hera whispered to Kanan and Zeb who were watching from afar. The two men nodded in agreement, confused stares on their faces as they watched you depart from the ex-ISB agent and make your way to your chambers.

How weird, indeed.

#star wars #x reader #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn #star wars rebels

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poptod · 5 years ago

Text

The Ivory Haunting (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: His face is engrained into your head but his name is nowhere. Where does he exist? Why are you so obsessed?

Notes: this is strangely creepy and i dont know why. its not what i meant to do but i think its cool anyway. gender neutral as fuckin always WC: 3.1k

There's this carving – more of a bust or sculpture – that has your mind twisted every which way. It's a stupid thing, really, but you can't get his expression out of your head, and thus it haunts your waking and sleeping hours. The style is Egyptian, you think. He's wearing a crown on his head, one that you've seen in a couple museums before, and he has an absent smile on his face. While you scroll through the endless amount of photos of ancient Egyptian statues online, you note that it's an all too common expression.

At this point you can't even recall where you first saw it. Could've been through the endless internet surfing or the many museums you visited in your travels, but at the end of the day you're stumped. What was his name? Where did you meet him?

It's clear as day. His alabaster skin. He looks straight at you with empty eyes, the irises having eroded many years ago in the hot sahara sun. His nose has long fallen off, leaving behind a jagged scar that drags from his brow down to his lips, where that haunting smile sits so easily. They're full, his lips – sweet, and soft, even for stone. At each end are little dips, showcasing the slight smile. His chin is a little big, but it makes way for the sharp contrast of his jawline. He has cheekbones – mostly hidden behind the crown – and his ears are a little large. The trait that draws your attention each time is his eyes. Blank. Like they had truly been staring at the world for thousands of years.

You don't get out much anymore, not since the restrictions were put in place. There are moments, especially in the dead of night, in which you want so desperately to leave your tiny apartment, but the curfew states otherwise. Policemen and government workers roam the streets and you'd rather not get into a tussle over something so small as an urge.

Still, you stare outside your window, wondering why it feels like you're suffocating. This is how you spend a lot of your time nowadays, staring at the streets. There's hardly any cars out, and the sidewalks are barren, a sight you'd seen only once before during the original quarantine. London is not a quiet city. It's quite the opposite, and to see it muted is in the least upsetting.

Your job is... easy. Considering the state of the world, you're incredibly lucky, retaining your job and keeping away from the outside. You also get a lot of free time. Usually you'd spend it in front of a television, or in a good book, but now it's in front of your computer screen. The typing marker flashes in front of you, placing behind it the clear words you've searched at least a hundred times by now.

ANCIENT EGYPTIAN BUSTS

By now you know what the first images are going to be. Nefertiti, mostly – her bust is by far the most famous. Then there's of course Akhenaten with his elongated skull, followed by several advertisements for Kemetic worship.

You don't know much about Egyptian history. Or, at least you didn't use to. Now you recognize the faces, though rarely do you ever remember the names of the many forgotten dead. You're just looking for one – one name, one bust, one dead man.

He's nowhere, not in the books you buy or the articles you read. When you sign up for an online course of ancient Egyptian history, you expect to see his face in a textbook, but he's not there. Sometimes it feels like you're the only one who remembers him, which is funny – you don't even know him. Either way it's a way to occupy the time, since you have so much of it lately.

The British Museum is reopening. There's a whole thing about COVID, of course, and the only way to enter is to get tickets online. Only a handful of people are allowed inside the museum at once, and since you don't hear about it until later, you are set to wait a month and a half before you can visit. Bitterness wells up in the pit of your stomach, but like most things you set it aside. None of it really matters anyway – yes, not knowing his name feels like drowning mid-air, but it won't kill you.

From the moment you reserve a ticket to the moment you can actually use it, you dream of him every night. Sometimes it's actually him, no longer a statue, taking your hands and leading you somewhere you don't belong. His skin is warm, unlike his statue, but just as soft as you imagined. His nails are meticulously cleaned and his eyes are bright, full of a life you're desperate to understand. It doesn't make any sense. You're yearning so deeply for him, for something you've never known before, and every second away feels like pure horror in your veins.

Why do you need him this much?

You look at yourself in the mirror, fixing a strand of hair that falls in front of your eyes. You're dressed well – at least comparatively to your former few weeks of dress – and a quiet excitement thrums in your heart. Today is a day you're going to go out, and to make it better you're going to the museum. They have an Egyptian exhibit. A foolish part of yourself hopes you'll find him there, nestled in the corner of a long and fruitful hallway filled with Egyptian statues.

It's... disappointing, to say the least, to find out there's only one room for Egyptian exhibits and it's occupied by only one thing, besides broken pots and stone dolls. The main exhibit's name is Ahkmenrah, a young Pharaoh older than the Great Pyramids of Giza. All information on him can be fitted onto a four by six stone plate. While standing in his room, surrounded by hieroglyphs you've been studying hard to understand, you look him up on your phone. There's little mention of him, but the one article you do find on him has a 3D recreation of his face. He looks white and you know the article's bullshit.

While absently holding a conversation with one of the curators, you discover there's a store of Egyptian exhibits kept underneath the museum that aren't fit for showcase since the downsizing. Whatever that means, you find a sliver of hope, one that pales quickly at the realization you'll never be able to go down there. They wouldn't let some random visitor (who wasn't even an actual historian) to go see closed off exhibits.

Fischer, the director of the museum, hires you four months after you send your resume in. The second he does you set your plan into motion – there's no time to waste.

The same day he gives you the keys, you're sneaking in under the cover of night. For some reason, the lights are still on in the main museum, but fortunately that's not where you're headed. You unlock the backdoor, sneaking through the night guard's break room until you find the door to the basement. Flipping through the keys on your ring, you quickly find the right one, shoving it into the keyhole and almost wrenching the door open.

You run down the stairs. It's almost sprinting, but you can't be too loud with your shoes. There's nothing in your mind except him, his funny little smile, the somehow soft alabaster of his skin. You need to get to him. Something inside you says he's here – he's here, he's here, and there's nowhere else you can be without your whole body combusting.

You stop dead in your sprint, chest heaving as you're faced with the open boxes filled with Egyptian busts. With frantic eyes you look them over, searching desperately for one familiar face, finding none until the very last open box.

It's here.

He's here.

The broken nose, the formation of the resulting scar, you recognize every. Fucking. Inch.

Each box contains little notes on who the statues are (if known), the material, the time period, and other such relevant information. Your hands shake as you reach forward, slipping the piece of paper out of the paper stuffing.

King Ahkmenrah

Date: ca. 3,100 - 3000 B.C.

Period: Old Kingdom

Place of origin: Egypt, Cairo

Medium: Ivory

Ahkmenrah.

Sudden clarity strikes you as it never has when you recall searching his name online. He's the exhibit. He's the mummy upstairs. He's actually here.

The blood in you freezes for a moment, caught up in shock and relief. Now you know his name. A small part of you is finally able to rest with the answer, but the rest of you knows exactly what to do – go upstairs. Find the exhibit. Lay at his side. After all this time you still don't know why, but the ache of neediness in your heart is enough to leave you weak to your inner desires.

Now that your head is clear, or at least unhindered by your questions, you note a worrying amount of sound coming from upstairs. Footsteps pound on the ceiling as you climb the staircase, leaving you curious and terrified. That many people shouldn't be in one place – it's a death wish for the modern plague. You grit your teeth, fingers curling up in to fists that dig your nails deep into your palm. Is it safe to go upstairs? There's definitely people up there and you have no idea who they are. The museum could be being robbed right now and you wouldn't have a clue. It's a death wish.

Why are you still going up the stairs?

Why are you opening the door?

This shouldn't be happening. There's enough people to fill the whole first floor, ranging from the public entrance of the museum to the African exhibits in the back. Almost all of them are wearing historical outfits, in such a wide array you might've thought they'd stolen them from the exhibits, had they not looked exactly like the wax figures. The marble statue of the Roman on his horse is no longer on its' pedestal. Actually, he's talking to a woman a few feet away from you, though he is still on the horse.

You should be passed out on the stairs going by how fast your heart is beating, but instead you stand in the doorway petrified. Your eyes sit wide, scanning back and forth over the crowd, searching for something you don't know of. With all the stimulus in front of you, you don't even know what to think. The exhibits must be coming alive. Does someone watch over them?

It's then, with little clarity in your head, that your eyes land upon the night guard. She doesn't look in the least bit rattled, so you easily assume she's used to this. Her calm is so alarming to you that you blink yourself back into your body.

These are... people. Just people. They haven't been put under some curse that'll bring chaos to the world. All they're doing is partying, and though the noise level is a tad unpleasant, it's just about as rowdy as some teenagers.

When you realize you aren't in danger, you bolt from your place at the door. Twisting through the gathered crowd, you slowly make your way to the staircase, ascending with quick feet as your eyes lock onto the Egyptian hall. It's a few more feet until you turn sharp, shoes squeaking as you slide into the room. The familiar gold lighting greets you, shining off the open sarcophagus, which you skid to a halt in front of as your lungs desperately try to catch up to your legs.

Of course it's empty. Your Pharaoh – or Ahkmenrah, you suppose you should use his name now that you know it – must be downstairs, where the life of the party is. Why would he stay up in this empty room, all alone? From here you can barely even hear the music that was once pounding into your ears. Still, for a moment you stare at the bottom of the vacant coffin, caught in the awe of such a long-standing history.

"What are you doing here?"

The words catch you by surprise, and in reaction you whip around, eyes wide as the voice continues, "who are you?"

My King. Before you can even process the thought, the words roll onto your tongue, but to your immense relief you catch yourself before actually opening your mouth.

"I..." it barely comes out with how little you've physically spoken recently, "I work here."

As usual, your voice carries that quiet, calm, slightly annoyed tone that makes people wonder why you're being so difficult. It's not really something you can control, but the King doesn't seem to notice. Maybe it's worked to your advantage this time; despite your racing heart and frozen feet, you keep an even tone.

"I don't think I've seen you here before," the King says, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer. You try to back up, but you're already pressed against the sarcophagus, and his glare keeps you from running.

"I just started today," you answer honestly.

"Ah," he says, his voice softer the moment he begins to believe you. "This must be rather alarming for you, then."

You're not afraid to admit he's right.

"A tad. How do you speak english?"

"I learned it during my time at Cambridge University," he answers. He's from over 4,000 years ago, so you know he didn't attend as a student.

"You were on display there?"

"Yes," he says with a bright smile, one that catches you entirely off guard.

It practically blows you away – his demeanor changed so quickly, from a stern Pharaoh to a sweet, young man who probably bought his girlfriend flowers every Monday. For a moment you wonder why you were so caught up in him before knowing him; now that you've heard his voice, seen the way he moves, your interest increases tenfold. It's not enough to see him. You need to touch him. You need it more than anything.

"I've been looking for you," you blurt out, but the words come out so slow it sounds like you consciously chose them. You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch his smile falter.

"What do you mean?" He asks. He's standing in front of you now – if you extended your arm and took a small step closer, you'd be touching him.

"There's a sculpture of you," you say softly, swallowing the lump in your throat, "but I didn't know how to find your name."

"How'd you find me, then?" He asks, but he looks less offended. Now there's a keen look in his smile and in his eye, like he's going to enjoy this, like he knows something you don't.

"Sheer luck," you say with a shrug. It's mostly true.

"I think I know you," he says, and his smile quirks further upward.

"What?" You say, trying to back up again as he steps closer. The sarcophagus is, unsurprisingly, still behind you. "How?"

"Back when I was a King, I had a slave my brother killed," he says in the least comforting tone, "but my father had this idea."

Another step closer. You can feel the heat of his naked waist on your shaking hands.

"See, he had a magician in his employ, and he would do anything for me. Especially since I loved that slave so dearly. Truly," he leans forward a little, placing his hand on the gold case behind you and trapping you against him. His chest is practically right against yours, but what you are close enough to feel is his breath, soft on your collarbones. "And so my father retrieved the soul with a special spell and sent it into the future, to possess another at birth, and to lie in wait until I called for it."

You can't feel your – well, anything. There's a pressure on your chest, but you can't tell if that's your wildly beating heart or just his warmth skewing your senses. All you can do is stare up at him wide-eyed. He can't be telling the truth. Magic doesn't work like that, it can't work like that, that's a sick story and he's telling it like it's nothing more than normal. Possessing a newborn child. Sending souls into the future. It can't make sense. You almost feel bad for your past self – under the employ of someone so cruel as to take a soul from the afterlife for his own pleasure.

But he's standing before you. He's 4,000 years old, and he's standing in front of you, pushing you against his own coffin and trapping you there. Do you belong to him, then? Is that why you can't get him out of your head?

"When did your search begin?" He asks softly, a gentle curiosity evident in his brow.

"A – about a year ago," you say, your voice so broken and shaky you're surprised he understands it.

"Last winter?" He asks knowingly, almost sweet, like he's doting on you. Then comes the part that really makes it shine; he reaches up and pets your hair, moving in long, soft strokes.

You nod, unwilling to meet his gaze any longer. How red you must be by now.

"I called on you then. It took you a little while, but I'm glad you made it," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Unfortunately, I suppose you haven't retained any memories, since you didn't know my name."

"I guess not," you agree quietly. "I just have instincts."

"Instincts?"

You're reluctant to share with him the many instincts you'd had even in the short time from meeting him to now. The pure need to touch him. Past You probably had a crush on him, and even though you aren't really that person anymore, there's a need inside you to hide that fact from him.

"I wanted to call you my King when I first saw you," you admit, your voice still quiet in hopes of him not understanding you.

"You won't have to call me that anymore. Maybe a tad around my parents, but when we're alone you may use my name."

"When we're... alone?" You question nervously, heart pounding at the thought of spending more time with him.

"You do work here, don't you?" He says with a sly grin. "I think I'll be seeing you quite a lot."

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh God.

If this is how you react just from spending five minutes with him, you can't imagine spending whole nights at his side. You'd explode. From what you don't know yet, but the pulsing rush in your heart is strong enough to worry you, and very rarely do you ever worry about yourself. The words in your head – your immediate reaction – simply won't pass. You can't bring yourself to say them, so you say what he wants to hear.

"As long as you want to."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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corpsentry · 4 years ago

Note

allahrakhii (dot) tumblr (dot) com/post/148596180152/honestly-the-depths-of-ignorance-of-white-people

this is a really good post for those who want to learn more about the harmful portrayal of brown women in the legend of zelda series. theres a bunch of helpful links that direct to articles throughout the post as well. if you scroll through a bit youll find the section that covers why the gerudo outfit is racist.

i would appreciate if you post this and not simply brush it aside! this message isnt intended to be hostile or offensive, but rather it is an opportunity for learning and discussion. thank you.

i find the insinuation that i might brush this aside rather ominous anon! first of all, thank you for sharing this post. as someone vaguely from southeast asia i uncovered another facet of the fuckcluster of internalized racism in my system while reading it and will be thinking about it for a while to come. the post is well-written and thoughtfully phrased, plus op provides links to several other resources that i’ll be checking out in my free time too so i’d recommend anyone passing by here give it a read. i also want to apologize for responding to the earlier ask (now deleted) where op was like ‘how is the gerudo outfit racist’ and i was like ‘fuck all if i know’. i was talking out of my ass and failed to consider alternate perspectives. i retract that statement and replace it with this much longer and much more eloquent one.

now everything from here on is frankly quite unrelated to this ask so to the person who sent it please feel free to stop reading right here right now from high school musical as i want to talk about the previous anon message i received and some general stuff regarding fandom and none of that has anything to do with you (you are lovely and the rest of the world is a shithole).

i don’t know if the original anon who sent the ‘i like your art but the gerudo outfit racist :(’ is gonna see this but let’s take a moment to unpack it. i’m not quite sure what anon was going for with this ask. what did they want from me? did they want me to apologize for drawing and posting it? did they want me to delete the post? did they expect me to say oh thank you so much!!! sorry about the racism xd or did they want me to call up shigeru miyamoto and be like ‘hey dude your shit’s racist’ and then take down the entire nintendo corporation in one fell swoop like i was somehow implicated in either the development process or the game by pure merit of drawing fanart of it(????). this was the shit running through my head when i woke up at 6 am this morning because jetlag and opened tumblr and there was this Person sitting there trying to :( me. what’s up with the :(. why are you :(. what do you want from me.

this is where the second anon above comes in. relative to this ask, if the first anon had so much as dropped one (1) link to one (1) post explaining how the outfit might be racist (and taken out the :(, which is lame) then instead of being like ‘which reaction image should i use for this’ i would’ve been like ‘oh here’s something i didn’t know about the world and here’s how i can learn more’. ‘your art great but this racist u___u’ reads like someone trying to guilt-trip someone for shits and giggles. a B grade on a paper is useless unless your prof tells you where you went wrong and before anyone Calls Me Out i’m going to acknowledge that there is a broader issue with marginalized groups having to bear the burden of ‘explaining themselves’ to privileged people who aren’t willing to go and seek information on their own, but let’s just look at this ask for a moment.

what the fuck is this??? what am i even supposed to do with a statement that not only tells me nothing but also seems to have no clear purpose? i am sitting here drawing video game fanart in a college dorm in pennsylvania and i know like 3 things about western media because i don’t like live-action film. if you want to have a conversation please give me something to work with instead of trying to sound sad in my askbox. i can’t turn your :( into a :) because i have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about because i am not god (yet) (although i am trying to).

but let’s talk bigger. racist stereotypes are a huge fucking problem in everything the ideological west gets its hands on. i promise you i know this because i grew up in singapore where the racism was directed towards everyone including ourselves because sir dickbag raffles stuck a flag in the ground and then ruined everything. i can see how nintendo has replicated those racist stereotypes, especially given that east asian countries generally have a long history of racism towards black and brown people. singapore fucks with it too because we’re majority chinese-singaporean and majority lighter-skinned (relatively speaking). op makes a lot of excellent points. perpetuating stereotypes in popular media serves to reinforce racist ideas and further entrench discriminatory beliefs. it’s a chicken egg chicken egg thing. people are socialized into racist beliefs. they create media with racist depictions. young people consume said media and are socialized into racist beliefs. and so on. egg chicken egg chicken.

so, question: where does fanwork figure into all of this? is that 5k ganlink (is this the ship name lol idk if it’s wrong feel free to take me out with a bazooka) e-rated smutfic the egg or the chicken? who is it socializing? who’s writing it? what kind of audience is it reaching? and, more broadly speaking, what is fandom here for, and what does fandom want to achieve?

here we’re going to take a huge detour into another very popular disco horse (at least on twitter i have fuckall clue what’s going on on tumblr at all times) of the present times: the wmulti level wmarketing (wlw) discussion. it is statistically true that there are far less f/f fics on ao3 than m/m fics and f/m fics. this clearly reflects something about fandom’s habits, but the floor is divided. in fact, the floor is on fucking fire all the time. several arguments have been made over the years, of which 1) media creates less-nuanced female characters which makes them harder to connect to (mass media’s fault) and 2) everyone is a gay fetishizer (the individual’s fault) are, arguably, the most popular.

as a head ass philosophy student i’m going to pick the option no one likes and say that i think it’s a combination of all of these factors. and i’m going to step out further and say that people are so inseparable from our communities and societies that it’s impossible to tell where external influence ends and personal preference begins. what this means, more simply, is i think that both individual arguments are insufficient. media is fucking complicated and so are people so imagine when you put all of this shit together on one webpage and then you light a match. tell me, bethany, can you truly say that you like twinkies because You Like Twinkies or was it that advertisement you saw at the bus stop every day for eight years that finally got to you? are you trying to rebel against society’s fear of fatness? are you depressed? do you just like sweet things, and anyway, can anyone “just like” something?

now let’s transplant this issue of societal/self influence (a fandom friendly version of the nature/nurture argument, if you will) onto fandom. so okay, there aren’t a lot of f/f fics. what do?

some popular options i’ve seen are: 1) make angry posts/tweets about how everyone sleeps on f/f relationships in fandom and we’re all secretly lesbophobic 2) call everyone a gay fetishizer 3) write f/f fic

and so here is the other (other? i don’t remember how many problems i’ve listed lol i’m trying here guys) problem: fandom doesn’t have a single cohesive goal. like people don’t come to fandom and then sign a 5 page contract at the end of which is the company vision. everyone comes here to do their own shit. some people use fandom as a means of escape. some people are trying to spread a message (like the evangelists) or educate the youth. some people fuck around and find out.

concept: if the goal of fandom was social activism, then the argument could be made that We Should Write More f/f fics. that make sense to you? because there’s something we’re all striving towards, we can agree that we have an obligation to our community to do something. but the goal of fandom isn’t social activism, is it? maybe it is for you. but it isn’t for everyone here including the 14 year old kid in chinese orchestra and the 56 year old who just wants to read some good werewolf smut. and because we’re all different people who do different things and fandom is not and cannot be your entire life, we can’t make these prescriptive statements. we can’t tell people what to do. ‘people should write more f/f fics because there are very few right now’ that is a valid statement and observation. now will you write those fics? because you’re the only person whose fandom life you can control. because the point of fandom is we’re away from the rules and regulations of Society. because when people are told they can do what they want they will do what they want and if you tell them to do something else, it’s hard to fault them for not taking kindly to it. i’ve written 5k character studies. it’s work. not everyone wants to do that work. that’s why i do it.

detour end and now we return to the chicken egg problem. in my opinion, the shit we create in fandom isn’t the chicken or the egg. it’s the onsen egg that’s been placed on top of your ramen. it’s a product of several complex societal processes, but now it’s here you and maybe the dude sitting across from you are the only ones, by and large, that it’s going to affect. this onsen egg isn’t for the children of the world (broadcast via disney+). this onsen egg isn’t for the politicians who’ll decide on the policy of your country for the next hundred years. they’re not even going to see it because it’s a fucking onsen egg now and no one has taste anymore these days except for yourself, which is why this onsen egg is just for you. put in clearer terms, i agree with op that people in fandom often replicate societal bias in their work (people are copy machines, bethany), but i don’t think most fanfiction has the power to influence society the way that popular media can (see: marvel movies, i dunno, fucking, like, austin powers?), and to critique it with the same mindset we use to critique tony stark is to say that we earnestly think every 15k smutfic is going to be read by millions of people of all ages from across the world. which is not the case. ao3 has a thing you have to click if you’re not logged in you know where you have to agree that you’re 18 or older o read adult stuff. if you lie about that that’s your own goddamn problem. they asked.

and now, part 2, we come around to several interesting points made in the post. op mentioned that ganon is often portrayed as hypersexual (which is fascinating to me i don’t read e rated fic I See What Zelda Fandom Is Doing) or just fucks a lot in general. since i don’t go here i will take op’s word and roll with it, but i have my own word to add: so ganon fucks- what do we do? do we tell people to stop writing fics where ganon fucks? do we force them? do we tell people to write more gen rated character studies (please join me i sit here alone and i (pensive homo stare))?

we could. but we can’t make them. and we also can’t tell them where their ideas are coming from. i don’t, like, read a lot of smutfic but i sure know that shit exists because half my friends are horny as shit and can we all agree that fandom as a whole is just super fucking horny. like yes if ganon as a whole is portrayed more often in sexual situations than the other characters in the franchise, it’s a good and fair observation that Something’s Up Here. but can we really point to individual authors? the premises mentioned in the post by op are premises i’ve seen for haikyuu fanfiction. multiple times. tens of hundreds of times. what if someone’s just really fucking horny? what if they’re replicating racist ideas taught to them by mass media? can we tell? can THEY tell?

the answer is no because humans are black boxes that can’t be opened up even if we drop into the pacific ocean and instead screech helplessly at walls all our lives. the answer is these are complex issues and i don’t think prescriptive ‘Never Write Sexy Ganon’ statements or pointing fingers at random 30 year old smutfic authors will improve the situation. the answer, or at least my answer, is that we should consume media with a critical eye and be aware of potential biases perpetuated by the authors/creators, but striving towards ideological purity is impossible on principle (i promise you everyone on this planet is problematic in some way or another because this purity thing from christianity is fucking lame and also completely fake) and so we should all give that up. my personal answer is i’ve learned a lot about stereotypes about middle eastern and south asian people and i’ll take all this info with me moving forward, but i honestly and earnestly do not think me drawing link and zelda in dumbass princess jasmine outfits is going to directly correlate with an increase in racism as observed in the island city-state of singapore. i am aware now. that’s a good thing. but just like how the h*rry potter fandom has completely detached itself from its horrible creator and now fucks around in its own space doing its own thing, i think it’s fully possible to engage with flawed media because, surprise surprise, all the media in the world is flawed.

#asks #anon #Anonymous #my stuff

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mrsdr-ethan-ramsey · 5 years ago

Text

God, have mercy! (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

This is off of @hatescapsicum‘s post! I’ve been facing some major writer’s block so thank you for the inspiration for this fic! I hope you like it!

Part Two here!! Part Three here!!

Tag List: @the-soot-sprite @ethandaddyramsey @silverlitskies @trappedinfandoms @samihatuli @sherlockedmcu @marywitchjane @awalker965 @openheart12 @flyawayboo @hatescapsicum @edith-eggs1 @princess-geek @akacalliope @my-heart-beats-for-ya @hipstercoffeeshop @miyakokurono @riverrune @chasingrobbie @sekizincimektup @canthandlechoices @thatysn

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Parker Kennedy)

Summary: Parker posts a steamy photo on her social media, hoping to grab Ethan’s attention.

Warnings: None I think? Taking the Lord’s name in vain? But that’s on me fam.

Word Count: ~1000

Parker’s thumb hesitated over the post button for a second. Was she really this desperate? Was she really going to post a photo of her half-naked just to see if Ethan would like it with his new account. No. She wouldn’t do this. She was an educated doctor; she could think of a better way to get his attention…but on the other hand it was an amazing pic.

Sienna took it on a trip to Martha’s Vineyard over the summer. Parker was trying to find something to wear so she was bustling around the house in an oversized button up that reminded her of Ethan’s and her little black swimsuit. She had been feeling down about Ethan leaving, so the roomies took a trip to help her forget about him. Sienna, trying to cheer her up, said she look absolutely stunning in her bikini and that’s how she ended up with a few gorgeous shots on her phone. Parker thought she would never post them, but now here she was about ready to post it on her social media account.

“C’mon Parker, it’s just a swimsuit pic,” she mumbled to herself before hitting the post button, locking her phone, and throwing it on the couch screen down. She was too nervous to watch and see if Ethan would like it. Instead, she moved to the kitchen and turned on her favorite playlist while she made dinner.

Completely wrapped up in the recipe and music, Parker was oblivious to the sound of her roommates coming home. It wasn’t until Sienna bounded into the kitchen, that Parker looked up.

“Parker, why would you post this?” Sienna asked, holding up her phone so show off the bikini pic. “I mean, I 100% support it but you said you didn’t think you would post it.”

Parker’s face flushed, “I…uh…want people to know I look good naked?”

Sienna raised an eyebrow at her as she pocketed her device, “Half-naked, Parker.”

“Same thing,” she mumbled, returning to her cooking.

“Anyone in particular you want to see this?” Sienna teased.

Parker swiveled over to look Sienna, her eyes wide as she stammered out, “N-no! Why would you ask that??”

Sienna shrugged, leaning against the counter as she watched Parker return to cooking. Since she didn’t say anything else, Sienna pushed herself off the counter with a quiet “okayyy” and went off to her room.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Parker put her hot dish into the oven and went to finally look at her phone. She held her breath as she picked it up, eyes skimming through the list of usernames that had liked and commented on it. A lot of friends from her hometown, college, and med school had liked it but she didn’t see the username she helped create anywhere. Where was ethan-ramsey’s like? She hated that she was this desperate, but he had been icing her out since he came back. She could only handle holding his hand for so long, before she would crave more. She liked him so much, so she was trying to take it slow for him but he was making it impossible. She had to speed him up a little bit, and she hoped this photo would help.

Finally getting back to his office, Ethan Ramsey let out a deep sigh as he sank back into his chair. He was frustrated. Frustrated at Parker for bringing in the internet celebrity, frustrated at Naveen for making him focus on high-profile patients, and frustrated at himself for begrudgingly agreeing to the board’s demands.

Opening his laptop, he quickly typed in the password before he was met with an unfamiliar website. Oh that’s right, he created that social media account. He grumbled as he hit a button trying to close the site as he brought his coffee mug to his lips, but instead it loaded back up. This time it wasn’t Gwyneth’s face on his screen. Instead, what he saw made him choke on the coffee.

“God, have mercy!” Ethan coughed out, his coffee landing on the half-naked photo of his co-worker on his screen.

Ethan’s eyes darted to the glass walls, looking to see if anybody passing by noticed him gawking. Thankfully nobody noticed, so Ethan quickly wiped his screen off and turned it further away from that glass as he looked back to analyze it more. He was completely drawn to her. She was stunning, not only her looks (which she showcased in the photo) but in her spirit and mind. She was a force to be reckoned with and he new that personally. Seeing her so close to naked again though…well it made his mind go back to the times they had been intimate. Lately he found himself going back to those memories a lot now that he was so close to her again.

“Rookie, what are you doing to me?” he mumbled to himself, closing his eyes and leaning his head back and he tried to regain control of himself.

After a minute or so, he opened his eyes back up and hovered his cursor over the small heart icon. Parker had informed him that if he enjoyed or agreed with a post, he could hit the heart icon to ‘like’ it. Well, he thoroughly enjoyed this image, but would it be weird for him to like it? He looked over the likes and comments, seeing plenty of people from the hospital already liked it, so he could…right? Mulling it over a little longer, Ethan finally hit the heart.

He looked at the image one last time, wishing that she were with him right now…that he could kiss those lips and tell her how he really felt instead of tiptoeing around his feelings. Someday, he thought as he closed out of the window and threw himself back into his work.

It was late now, and Parker was lying in bed on her phone. She scrolled through a Buzzfeed article as a push notification covered what she was reading.

ethan-ramsey liked your post

Parker’s heart skipped a beat, making her stomach knot. Holy shit, Ethan liked it! She let out a little squeal into her pillow as she thought about Ethan coming across the photo. Maybe his jaw dropped or he was left speechless. A part of her really hoped he had been shocked seeing it. Parker couldn’t stop the grin that crept across her face as she locked her phone, imagining Ethan was back in her bed with her as she fell asleep.

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ddagent · 5 years ago

Note

I know we just got it, but is there a chance of a follow-up to Brienne being able to read people's minds? It's sooooo good.

I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the response to telepathic!Brienne, and I truly hope you enjoy this follow-up! Thank you to @resthefuture for this AMAZING moodboard!

Part One, “Noise” can be read here.

Brienne’s elbow jerked, and a nearby coffee cup tipped to the side; brown liquid spilling across the conference room table. Her colleagues scrambled to clear away the papers littering the surface; a flurry of thoughts bombarding Brienne as she suddenly became the focal point of the meeting.

What a klutz.

You’d think someone with arms that long would have better control over them.

What is Tarth even doing here? She hasn’t worked on a proper case in months.

Fuck; thanks a lot, Tarth! Why don’t you go back to the bridge you crawled out from?

She shouldn’t be here. She probably has a concussion.

Brienne looked up at that last thought; Jaime Lannister’s voice cutting clear across the din. Despite the concern in every syllable, the senior partner sat in his chair, scrolling through his phone with disinterest. He seemed utterly oblivious to her mishap at the other end of the table. And, yet, Brienne was sure it was him. Sure it was his voice, filled with longing, that had called out for her to look at him for once. And, yet—

“Are you finished, Ms Tarth?” Brienne opened her mouth to respond, but Lannister didn’t allow her the opportunity. “Good. Stone: update on the Greyjoy case.”

As one of her fellow associates launched into the latest legal battle between the brothers warring over their father’s will, Brienne dropped to her seat; cheeks flushed. On a normal day, knocking over a coffee cup and drawing the ire of a senior partner would rank amongst one of her worst. But her newfound...ability pushed it to the very top. Her colleagues barely tolerated her. Renly Baratheon used her. And Jaime Lannister— Well, Brienne wasn’t entirely sure what to make of him just yet.

The meeting finally drew to a close, and her colleagues filed out one-by-one. Renly was the first to leave; he had an appointment with an intern at the advertising agency on five for some illicit fun in the men’s bathroom. Her colleagues had casework, calls to make, games to play. Brienne was the last to rise, and almost the last to leave. Jaime Lannister remained sitting; his manicured fingertips tracing the grain in the wood.

“We don’t do injury claims here, Ms Tarth.”

Her forehead furrowed. “I’m–I’m sorry?”

He pointed at her face. “The bump on your head. This is a serious firm, taking on serious cases. You won’t find anyone here to take your case if you decide to sue.” A lawsuit is too good for whatever animal did that to you, anyway. A broken jaw would be better.

“I—” Brienne was tired of half-finishing her sentences; so overwhelmed was she that words were far beyond her grasp. So she swallowed, straightened, and said: “I don’t intend to sue, Mister Lannister, but I do intend to press charges when the gold cloaks catch whoever was responsible.”

If she hadn’t heard his soft, aching thoughts, Brienne would have missed the taut line of his shoulders; the tightening of his grasp around the table. “You were attacked?” A broken jaw is far too good. I’ll call Tyrion; he knows people. We’ll have him buried by day’s end.

“No!” Brienne blurted; Lannister’s eyes widening at her sudden outburst. Fuck. “I mean, I was attacked, but only because I was trying to save someone else from being mugged.”

“Well, aren’t you the gallant knight.” Like Ser Blue. Tall, strong; I bet you could pin me–no, Jaime, not in the workplace. “We have an excellent healthcare policy, Ms Tarth; we here at Lannister, Baratheon, and Targaryen pride ourselves on it, in fact. I suggest you use it.” Please go home, Brienne. Get some rest.

“Thank you, but I’m fine.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. But this was me covering my own arse; if you decide to sue us later for breach of care or...whatever, your case won’t hold water. I’d get some ice for your head, though. That bruise makes you look even uglier than usual.”

Lannister rose from his seat and made his departure from the conference room. He looked like the Warrior as he departed: expensive suit, well-cut mane, golden grin. But Brienne could hear his thoughts, and they betrayed a different kind of man. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did you say that, you idiot? Now she’s going to think you think she’s ugly, and judging from last night’s— Brienne was grateful when Lannister disappeared from her eye-line, and she could no longer hear him. If she had any doubts that his thoughts were about her, they had evaporated some ago. Jaime Lannister, the most eligible bachelor in King’s Landing and a disgrace to the legal profession, liked her.

Too many thoughts. Too many questions. Too loud. Too much noise.

Brienne retreated to her office, adjusted the blinds and shut the door. She logged onto her company laptop and pulled up a search engine, deciding to start at the beginning. Hearing people’s thoughts brought up more than a few results about mental illness. Telepathy was a more prosperous search, although Brienne was led to more than one site promising to teach people how to read thoughts for a monthly fee. Her search came up with nothing as to how to control or stop it; the most useful advice she saw was not telling a maester she could hear other people’s thoughts.

After a while, Brienne opened a new window and typed in Jaime Lannister.

As expected, there was the firm’s website; a series of tabloid articles detailing his well-publicised affair with his step-sister. The images tab revealed numerous photoshoots for various magazines, including a charity calendar of various attorneys in the city. Renly’s month had been in Brienne’s kitchen all year round. The news tab made mention of cases he’d won – and the Aerys Targaryen debacle. He’d wrecked Targaryen’s defence on purpose; had almost been disbarred had his father not come to his aid. Jaime Lannister was deplorable. And he liked her.

Before Brienne could fall down a rabbit hole about what that said about her, there were two knocks at the door. Renly didn’t even wait to be invited in before he came inside, throwing her that winning smile. “Hey, you.”

She quickly pulled down the lid of her laptop before he could see the pictures of Jaime and jump to the wrong conclusion. “Hello yourself.”

“So, earlier, I mentioned that very special job for you?”

“Right.”

“Shall we head to my office? We can talk about the case, one-on-one.” Come on, you never miss the opportunity for some alone time with me, Brienne. Take my special job, so I can get some jobs of my own down at the Club. “I’ll get the tea – no coffee.”

“I–I can’t.” Are you serious? Brienne was serious. She was better than this; a better lawyer than this. Now she knew the truth, she would not let herself be used in such fashion. “I’m afraid I’m working on another case already.”

Renly chuckled. “Well, as a senior partner, I’m sure we can move a few people around.” Are you really trying to play hard to get, Brienne?

“The case I’m working on is for a senior partner. Mister Lannister asked for my help.”

Oh, fuck off he did. He can’t stand you. “He did?” At that exact moment, as if the Gods wished to test Brienne further, Lannister walked by her office. “Jaime, can I bother you for a minute?”

“Why stop at a minute?” Why couldn’t you have run the Storm’s End office? Your brother is a bore, but at least you know where you stand with him. “What’s wrong, Renly?”

“Brienne here says you’ve asked for her help on a case? I was rather hoping she could help with mine.”

Lannister’s head swivelled towards her; one eyebrow raised, intrigued. “She did, hmm?” Don’t tell me you’ve finally wised up to this arse, Tarth. She had. And if it came down to it, she’d rather listen to his thoughts than Renly’s. What a sorry state her life had become. “Well, she is. Working with me on a case.”

Renly spluttered. “But–but Brienne and I have a special working relationship.”

Oh, I know all about your relationship. She does all the work while you galavant around town. “Well, this case requires Ms Tarth’s special skillset. Sorry, Renly. Guess she’s mine now.”

Brienne was about to voice an objection over being treated like property when she heard Jaime’s inaudible sigh. If only.

#braime #jaime x brienne #brienne x jaime #anonymous #mine: paragraph prompts #ship: braime #fic: telepathic brienne

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amphtaminedreams · 5 years ago

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Filling the Met Shaped Hole (No, Not Like That): The Best Red Carpet Looks of Awards Season 2020

Hi to anyone reading,

I want to jump straight into things and ask a question. Which is the best Met Gala theme of the last 5 years and why is it Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination?

Seriously though, despite the fact that I’m not sure anything will top Heavenly Bodies with the preceding and succeeding Met Galas being relatively disappointing (the camp theme definitely could have been taken further and lets not even talk about the Comme Des Garcons disaster), I still get excited for the gala every year, staying up til whatever hour of the morning so I can see all the fashion live. Of course, it makes complete sense that this year’s event has been postponed until October given the circumstances but the chosen theme of Fashion and Duration had the potential to be quite interesting, so I hope we do eventually get to see it; whilst I don’t miss endlessly scrolling through photos of every white male celebrity wearing the exact same suit and tie to the point where fangirls claim Harry Styles to be a pioneer of breaking gender norms because he wore a pink top, I long for the days where we could all temporarily coexist in peace and harmony thanks to the internet’s collective dragging of the Kardashians for paying no attention to the theme whatsoever. We should’ve guessed life as we know it was about to be flipped on its head when they actually turned up in something interesting last year.

What I’m trying to say is that I would love nothing more than to jump back in time to when tomorrow morning’s top Google search would be best Met Gala looks, and not how many lives did Boris Johnson’s fuckery cost us today. So in honour of the lack of trivial content, I thought I’d fill the Met shaped hole in our lives (amongst many other unfilled holes; today the freezer door at work hit me on the ass whilst I was putting ice cubes out and I think for a split second I got all flushed) by putting together a collection of my personal favourite red carpet looks from this year’s awards season and their respective afterparties: the BAFTAs, Brits, Critic’s Choice Awards, Golden Globes, Oscars, SAG Awards, and the Grammys to finish with.

Enjoy!

British Academy of Film and Television Arts Award (yes, that’s the BAFTAs but I needed a longer title)

(L-R: Zoe Kravitz in Dior, Rooney Mara in Givenchy, and Scarlett Johansson in Versace)

I am a British fan of television and arts but I will gladly say it: of all the awards ceremonies, the BAFTAs is hardly the most exciting, and the red carpet even less so. As I said, lots of boring men in boring suits and middle aged women being dressed by stylists who seem to think we’re dead from the neck down by the time we hit 40 and dress us accordingly so. Any hint of a décolletage explicitly forbidden.

There were a few good looks, however. From left to right, above we have Zoe Kravitz in Dior, Rooney Mara in Givenchy and Scarlett Johansson in Versace, who looks so amazing I almost forget that 1). Versace is going down the drain and 2). Scarlett Johansson would stand in front of a forest and take the role of a tree if she could. Which, along with her whole defence of Woody Allen, is really shit-she’s genuinely great in Marriage Story and an otherwise talented actress. As for Zoe Kravitz, she is up there with Robert Pattison as one of my biggest crushes right now and looks amazing in literally everything she wears, and Rooney Mara is consistently low-key yet elegantly dressed.

(L-R: Greta Gerwig in Gucci, Florence Pugh in Dries Van Noten, Renee Zellweger in Prada)

Renee Zellweger proved an exception to the rule when it came to women over the age of 40 generally having clueless stylists-her dress is beautiful, very reminiscent of the delicate, demure beauty of 50s icons such as Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn. Florence’s dress, I actually really loved. It didn’t seem to go down all too well with actual Florence Pugh fans but red and pink together is an elite combo; I’m still firmly on the “surprised that it works but I’m into it” train. I mainly included Greta’s dress for the green velvet, to be honest; it’s disappointingly low-key for Gucci but nice enough all the same.

(L-R: Andrew Scott in Paul Smith, Charlize Theron in Dior, Daisy Ridley in Oscar de la Renta, and Emilia Clarke in Schiaparelli)

I was particularly excited to see Emilia Clarke in Schiaparelli-yes, I adore her because she played Daenerys Targaryen and I was ride or die for that bitch but also whenever I see her interviewed she has the most exuberant energy and honestly I want to be best friends. It’s not the most interesting dress Schiaparelli has ever put out there, but I like the fact that she went for something unique all the same.

Forest green is a colour I find hard to resist which is why I included Andrew Scott’s otherwise kinda basic suit (points for it being velvet) and Daisy Ridley in Oscar de la Renta. As elegant as the dress is, I would love for her stylist to have really leaned into the forest nymph vibes I’m getting and do something a bit less uptight with the hair and makeup; like imagine loose curls with tiny braids and hair rings and a dark lip and a slight smoke around the eye and...yes, I have very specific visions, I know. As for Charlize Theron, her work with Dior is the only reason I care about the brand; there’s definitely a case to be made here for giving Maria Grazia the benefit of the doubt, assuming that she tries all the prototypes on women who look like Charlize and that that’s why she’s happy to send dresses that are otherwise relatively underwhelming down the runway.

The Brit Awards

(L-R: Charli XCX in Fendi, Ellie Goulding in Koche, Hailee Steinfeld in Fendi, and Harry Styles in Gucci)

In my opinion a much better reflection of quintessential British style than the BAFTAs, I originally ruled out including any music award ceremony red carpets in this post until I saw Maya Jama and Charli XCX’s looks. Consider me pleasantly surprised by Hailee Steinfeld’s cobalt blue burnout dress, a classic incarnation of the regal bohemian aesthetic Fendi channelled in their 2019 haute couture show. Plus Charli’s emo take on Glinda the Good Witch is also Fendi, driving home for me just how much I love their collections. I don’t know if I’d be sure about Ellie Goulding’s dress on the rack but the simple styling makes it work and she looks gorgeous, and Harry Styles looks just as pretty in a Gucci look that is MADE for him.

(L-R: Adwoah Aboah in Vivienne Westwood, Celeste in Gucci on the far right! I’m not sure who the guy in the middle is, I’m sorry and if anybody knows drop me a message and I will correct this immediately!)

Unfortunately, Harry Styles and Celeste didn’t get to pose together because this is really a perfect his and hers Gucci look; I feel like seeing one outfit next to the other would really highlight the quirky elegance of each. That being said, it feels criminal to talk about elegance without including Adwoah Aboah in Vivienne Westwood in the sentence; the dress is obviously stunning quality on its own merit, but Adwoah is what elevates it from unremarkable to ethereal. Fuck the weird ass knight figure that’s currently on top of the Brit Award, this woman is the definition of statuesque! Put her on top of the trophy you cowards!

And just to get it out of the way, when it comes to the guy in the middle, to quote Keke Palmer:

Sorry to this man.

Honestly, I saved all the red carpet photos from a Nylon (I think it was Nylon?) article back when the awards aired and towards the end of the photos they stopped including names-this happened a few times when I was looking through red carpet galleries. I reverse image searched where I could but not every photo turned anything up. If anyone does know who this man is, message me so I can include his name. He looks sick, and as far as suits go, this one is built upon and accessorised enough that it’s actually a look rather than the same old variation of a suit we’ve seen a million times before that may as well be the straight man’s designated red carpet uniform.

(L-R: Maya Jama, Neh Neh Cherry in Bottega Veneta, Laura Whitmore)

And now the woman that forced me to include the Brits red carpet in this post in the first place: Maya Jama. Don’t get me wrong, my mind isn’t blown by this dress on its own, I probably prefer Laura Whitmore’s (Jaded do a similar newspaper dress and I’ve resisted adding it to my basket for 6 months now, this is the ultimate test of whether or not I finally cave), but Maya looks fucking MAGNIFICENT. The fit, the gloves, the confidence with which she carries it, it’s all SO good. Considering the timing, this is basically her Princess Diana revenge dress levelled up, 2020′s Jessica Rabbit moment.

(L-R: Maya Jama, Ellie Goulding, Kendall Jenner)

Obviously anything is gonna be a step down from the red carpet look but Maya’s Brits afterparty outfit was cute too, if a tad Pretty Little Thing.

Don’t ask me what Kendall Jenner was doing at the Brits afterparty btw, because I have no idea. We live in a world where the Kardashian-Jenners just seem to occupy every public space possible and I’ve begrudgingly accepted it at this point. I don’t have the energy to question it-and it helps that green catsuit is actually Very Cool™.

For the last of my favourite Brit Awards looks, we have a few more afterparty photos-from left to right we have Charli XCX again, Lizzo, and Anne Marie. It was Charli posting her dress on Instagram that sent me searching for afterparty looks in the first place; apparently wearing nothing but feathers and crystals is something that appeals to me, and the more I read that statement, the more it sounds spot-on. I’d categorise it as gothic glamour hoe, and slot it in with the rest of the night-out clothes in my wardrobe that I think I’ll finally have the balls to wear out of sheer desperation once this lockdown is over. The Blossom to Charli XCX’s Buttercup here, we’ve also got Anne Marie looking extra AF and I loveeeee it; it’s an ensemble somewhere between a high-end version of Alaska Thunderfuck’s candyfloss Sugar Ball dress from season 5 of Drag Race (Alaska DID deserve to win AS2 nation, rise up) and a low-key version of a Katy Perry California Dreams Tour costume. I don’t call it low-key as a drag, just a regretful admission of the fact that maybe wearing a cupcake bra which squirts whipped cream out of the boobs is a bit too much for most of us.

Critic’s Choice Awards

(L-R: Alison Brie in Brandon Maxwell, Chloe Bridges in Azeeza, Cynthia Erivo in Fendi, Florence Pugh in Prada)

I was going to say the Critic’s Choice Awards is kind of America’s version of the BAFTAs but then I remembered that the BAFTAs is really the only big TV and film awards ceremony we have here in the UK and that it’s kind of sad that I have to compare our most high-profile red carpet of the year to L.A’s most low-key one. Getting Cynthia Erivo and Florence Pugh to infiltrate is the best we can do.

THAT BEING SAID!

They both look amazing. This is Florence’s best red carpet look of this year, imo (she the prettiest icicle I’ve ever seen), and Cynthia Erivo’s arm must ache from serving the entire awards season. And in Fendi! Taste!

Side note before we move onto the next set of looks: has anybody else watched Alison Brie in Mad Men and Community simultaneously and experienced the extreme cognitive dissonance that comes from watching her play a tragically nerdy (relatable tbh) 18 year old and an overly-sophisticated 30 something married to an ad man in the 60s at the same time? Weird, but anyway! The orange dress with the red lipstick is channelling Marina Diamandis’ Froot era style subtle sex appeal and is a timeless, playful combo. Put the hair up into a beehive and it’s Megan Draper on a date in Cabo-don’t know much about the place but I know the sea is aqua and the sun seekers are blindingly white and the cocktails are plentiful (and whatever colour you want them to be), and all that together is a juicy palette if we’re talking cinematography. The Mad Men directors are out there somewhere shaking their fists at the sky that they never got to consult me on that, I’m sure.

(L-R: Phoebe Waller-Bridge in Dior, Saoirse Ronan in Erdem and Zendaya in Tom Ford)

Zendaya’s red carpet look was the stand out of the Critic’s Choice Awards for sure; the skirt I can do without but I hope that hot pink metal breastplate ends up on display somewhere because that is ART, and she is the perfect person to wear it. The Tiffany Pollard “she's so powerful” meme was made for this moment.

Also, can we talk about Phoebe Waller-Bridge backing up my Dior 2019 Haute Couture wasn’t *that* bad hypothesis? Because unless I’m mistaken this is one of the dresses from that collection and it is quite beautiful. Yeah, black mesh isn’t going to start a revolution or anything but it’s so delicate looking it almost seems out of place on a red carpet-I don’t know if it’s the structure of the bodice or the tulle but I can totally see this in a gothic ballet, whether that’s sensible in theory or not. Probably not. But then again I did quit ballet when I was 10 after months of getting people to near poke me in the eye on the way out of class so it would look like I’d been crying and I didn’t have to go to my lessons after school. So what do I know? Fuck all, in case that wasn’t clear. I also feel a little vindicated by Saoirse wearing one of the Erdem dresses I loved from last year’s collection-if multi-award winning actress Saoirse Ronan’s probably ridiculously well-paid stylist liked it enough to pick it out for her then I guess I’m doing okay in terms of taste levels.

(L-R: Olivia Wilde in Valentino, Lucy Hale in Miu Miu, Mandy Moore in Elie Saab, and Margaret Qualley in Chanel)

The last few Critics Choice Awards looks I picked out above aren’t thrilling or anything but they’re cute enough to include-from left to right we have Olivia Wilde in Valentino, Lucy Hale in Miu Miu, Mandy Moore in Elie Saab and Margaret Qualley in Chanel. It’s kind of besides the point, but Margaret worked with Chanel throughout awards season and I just wanted to add my two cents in here and say that I think she’s the perfect person to collaborate with (also think Laura Harrier would be a good match, anyone agree?) and that in a similar vein, I urge Miu Miu, the creative directors of which I’m sure are eagerly awaiting the opinion of irrelevant Tumblr user amphtaminedreams, to work with Lucy Hale more often. I feel like if girl stopped starring in those shitty Blumhouse horrors and did something a bit more sophisticated she’d fit the brand right down to a T.

The Golden Globes

(L-R: Cynthia Erivo in Thom Browne, Dakota Fanning in Dior, Jane Levy in Steven Khalil, and Janina Gavankar in Georges Chakra)

Finally! I hear you cry! A more exciting red carpet! It’s not the Oscars, but celebrity stylists still pulled the big guns for this one, the Golden Globes probably being considered the second most prestigious American awards ceremony of the year. Plus Dakota Fanning was there! Big yay for me! She and Elle can practically do no wrong in my eyes and are probably the only 2 women that could take on Dakota Johnson and Jennifer Lawrence when it comes to established red carpet style.

Cynthia Erivo did it again, of course, as slick, as dignified and as regal as she was at the Critic’s Choice. The woman really has got this power stance thing locked down; she always seems so cool and confident in everything she wears that the whole getting dressed up to go out out out (we call going to the club going “out out”, but I’d say a red carpet is a slightly bigger deal than my local club with the sticky floors hence the 3rd out) thing looks like second nature.

(L-R: Zoey Deutch in Fendi, Karamo Brown in Grayscale, Lucy Boynton in Louis Vuitton and Kat Graham in Georges Hobeika)

Lucy Boynton was another of my Golden Globes stand outs, and in general is someone who I really look forward to seeing at red carpet events. She (or her stylist, I don’t know how much of a role she plays!) always seems to commit fully to an outfit and sees it as part of a whole concept where the makeup, hair and accessories are equally as important and that is a girl after my own heart. 60s space age empress is the theme here and I’m all about it-well, either that or a feminine editorial take on the tinman from the Wizard of Oz but the former sounds a bit cooler and does way more justice to how good she looks so we’ll go with that. Quick shoutout to Kat Graham too because she looked absolutely radiant.

(L-R: Shailene Woodley in Balmain, Winnie Harlow in Laquan Smith, and Zoe Kravitz in Saint Laurent)

The trio above I really couldn’t skim over, Winnie Harlow especially; my America’s Next Top Model grudges aside, she consistently turns it out at every event she’s invited to. She’s another woman that wears pieces with such confidence that they look like they were actually made on her body-even if the garment itself isn’t the most breathtaking in the room, she’s the one that draws my attention. Though she’s got these dainty, other-worldly qualities about her, what you’d expect to be a gentle presence is firm and commanding and whilst the sharp drama and glitz of the dress probably helps, that’s just the way Winnie Harlow is naturally, based on her other red carpet appearances.

Zoe Kravitz is an interesting one because, on the one hand, her looking amazing with that bone structure (I would trade a vital organ to look like that any day) is a given, but it does also seem like she went out of her way to do something a bit different this past awards season. I have always loved her street style for its trademark edge and the androgynous, oversized silhouettes that she leans towards, and the overt femininity of her red carpet dresses is that grungy, skater girl aesthetic completely flipped on its head. It’s cute, and if anyone can pull a dress as kitschy as this off, it’s Zoe. She’s got that just rolled out of bed look we all dream of that screams “I’m over this shit” whereas the rest of us have to rely on dark circles to get the message across. It’s very weird to think that she and Shailene Woodley were in Divergent together, especially since Zoe in particular has changed so much since.

My main note with Shailene was just that I got excited to see that Balmain dress off the runway-it was one of my favourites from the S/S 2020 collection (IIRC, mostly on the basis that I’m pretty sure it wan’t haute couture), and it looks good! Not wildly good because I’m not sure the fit of the dress is inherently all that flattering, but still good-she makes it work.

(L-R: Taylor Swift in Etro, Sofia Carson in Giambattista Valli and Scarlett Johansson in Vera Wang)

I know a lot of people online didn’t seem to like Taylor Swift’s dress, but she looks cute, imo. I will say that I’m surprised it’s Etro! At first glance I would’ve thought Carolina Herrera or Oscar de la Renta or something along those lines. And predictably, I think Sofia Carson looks flawless. If you’ve read any of my other posts you’re probably sick of hearing it but I really can’t resist anything that is this modern Disney princess, like powder pink layered tulle? Feathers? What did you expect me to say, ew? I think deep down my clothing preferences will always be that of a 9 year old girl and you know what, that’s okay. Sometimes. Well, when it comes to red carpets. That’s when you can kinda get away with it.

(L-R: Bell Powley in Miu Miu, Billy Porter in Alex Vinash, and Charlize Theron in Dior)

There’s a few things worth mentioning when it comes to the above outfits. Firstly, and most importantly, I need to proclaim my love for Billy Porter. No man is doing it like him, honestly. To compare Harry Styles in his pink suits is unfair. The drama and the beauty and the flair that Billy brings every awards ceremony is on another level and that’s all I have to say about that. If you disagree, I’m gonna need a bullet pointed essay-I am that firm in my opinion.

Second, Bell Powley in Miu Miu semi confirms the direction their PR team tend to head in when choosing women to work with. I might be totally alone here but I feel like she and Lucy Hale both have one of those porcelain doll faces which work really well with Miu Miu’s signature girlish silhouettes and overly-ornate details.

And thirdly, just to restate my earlier point: someone give Charlize Theron a pat on the back for bringing some life to a Dior design. That is all.

(L-R: Jodie Comer in Mary Katrantzou, Joey King in Schiaparelli and Kaitlyn Dever in Valentino)

All the newcomers really turned it out too, which is a sentence I type through gritted teeth; to call Jodie Comer of My Mad Fat Diary origins a newcomer pains the former depressing 2013 black and white Tumblr user in me, though I suppose to the US audiences uncultured in the ways of British teenage angst Vilanelle is her breakthrough role. And how Vilanelle is this dress too!? It’s bold and it’s attention-grabbing and it’s fun and it is definitely very theatrical female fictional villain that you were inexplicably drawn to as a child before you realised why as an adult-”oh, it’s because she was hot”.

Joey King in Iris van Herpen was a pleasant surprise too considering that when I first looked through the red carpet photos I only knew her as the girl who was in that shitty Netflix original-having watched her in The Act, I apologise for the dismissal! And I admire the sartorial choice! I adore Iris van Herpen designs but as a short girl, wearing one of her dresses to a red carpet event is a risky decision-I hate to admit it because casting a diverse range of people for shows is something I have come to expect of my favourite brands, but the appeal of a lot of IvH pieces comes from the movement of the garments on standard willowy runway models. Fortunately, the styling is really complementary here, and whilst it can’t be denied that the dress itself does swamp her a bit, I liked that she and her stylist stepped out of the box.

Kaitlyn Dever’s red carpet look is obviously a lot more typical, but you can't go wrong with a Valentino dress, and this one in particular is so suited to the aura she gives off-it’s young and it’s fun and it’s fresh and the intricate floral print, otherwise muted if not for the spring influenced pops of pink and red, is timelessly pretty.

(L-R: Akwafina in Dior, Saoirse Ronan in Celine, Beanie Feldstein in Oscar de la Renta, and Renee Zellweger in Armani)

Lastly, there was Saoirse Ronan in Celine-one of my highlights of the night; she looked phenomenal, a glacial toned dream, and it was pretty different to what I generally expect to see her in. I might be way off base and in need of a bit of a review of her red carpet style, but I feel like she usually leans more towards pretty than edgy with regards to her styling at these kinds of events and a loose fitting, gun metal glittered slip dress is, imo, the perfect way to hit that previously uncharted midway point between the two.

(L-R: Kate Bosworth in Prabal Gurung, Kathryn Newton in Valentino and Sarah Hyland)

Now onto the afterparty looks, and I’m not gonna lie, they’re usually the highlight of the ceremonies for me; I feel like the initial ceremony is all about looking respectful and maintaining that whole dedicated actor image, whereas it seems the literal point of these showbiz parties is a competition to be the best dressed person in the room. Competition really makes people step their game up, and we always get to see more young talent whose style tends to be more current than that of the people we see on the red carpet.

I’ve got to say, as annoying as I found her character in The Society, I have to overlook that gut instinct of irritation when I see Kathryn Newton and accept how stunning everything going on here is; honestly, she looks like an angel, and I feel like the team at Valentino must reeeeally like her to put her in that dress.

(L-R: Alexa Demie, Ashley Benson in Georges Hobeika, Maude Apatow and Barbie Ferreira)

Obviously I was super excited to see the Euphoria girls on the red carpet, especially Alexa Demie-she does 90s/early noughties inspired glamour better than anyone else on the young actor scene right now and her personal style and the sass she does so well as Maddy Perez shines through every time. Whilst Barbie Ferreira’s look is more casual and achievable for the rest of us in terms of wearability, it’s just as interesting a take on the same period; the delicate pink makeup, hair and jewellery with the 90s inspired slip dress in light teal is a red carpet take on soft grunge for the ages. As for Ashley Benson, she always looks gorgeous and that’s all I’m gonna say before I get emotional and start going into a rant about how her and Cara Delevigne’s relationship was one of the only good things about this shitshow of a year and how now that they’ve broken up the single flame of hope inside me has been extinguished and how their sex swing is gonna get so lonely with them caught in the middle of an ugly custody battle and-

You get the idea.

(L-R: Storm Reid, Sophia Bush in John Paul Ataker, and Sydney Sweeney)

(L-R: Billie Lourd, Paris Hilton, and Camila Morrone)

The Oscars

(L-R: Charlize Theron in Dior, Cynthia Erivo, and Florence Pugh in Louis Vuitton)

Ah, the Oscars. This is where the big money is really spent, and bad decisions are made-in fairness, this year’s winners were a lot more satisfying than usual and I think all of us felt that Parasite was a well-deserved win. I really thought it was gonna be Once Upon a Time in Hollywood just as a bit of a token gesture to Tarantino considering it’s his 9th film, though undoubtedly his worst of the ones I’ve seen, so I was relieved that this wasn’t the case. That being said, it still pains me to see the horror genre being ignored by the academy-in my mind, Florence is here for her performance in Midsommar just as much as Little Women.

At the risk of getting repetitive, just assume my opinions on Charlize Theron in Dior here are the same again, that Cynthia Erivo is still bringing goddess energy (this is probably my favourite of her looks), and that against the opinion of the masses, Florence looks divine in this colour. I mean, when I say the masses I just mean the people I follow on Twitter, but still, I just wanted be an excuse to be dramatic so that I could insert a meme.

(L-R: Natalie Portman in Dior, Regina King in Versace, Scarlett Johansson in Oscar de la Renta, and Sandra Oh in Elie Saab)

Once again, Scarlett Johansson’s stylist is doing God’s work; this outfit is everythingggg-the Oscar de la Renta dress is probably my favourite thus far. Like we’re talking angel, but make it fitted and sexy, and I hope you read that in the Tyra Banks voice I intended because 2 memes in a row would rob me of any credibility I’m building as a fashion account and I’m not ready to trash that for bad memes just yet; give it a couple of mental breakdowns and I’ll be there. Natalie Portman’s look was a favourite of mine too, with the cape over the top adding a sophisticated touch to the celestial, slightly bohemian feel of the dress. I initially found the detail of the names embroidered into said cape to be quite moving-in a dream world, directing would be my career of choice and so I really admired the statement-but finding out that Portman herself is the only director hired by her own production company ruined that for me a little bit. Then again, multi-millionaire celebrities making performative gestures for good publicity and not doing all that much to make any real change? Colour me shocked.

(L-R: Beanie Feldstein in Miu Miu, Brie Larson in Celine and Billie Eilish in Chanel)

Now, of all the Miu Miu looks so far, I think Beanie Feldstein definitely got the best one. The intricacy of the embroidery, the silhouette, the old Hollywood stye curls-it’s all so graceful. I’d say this is probably her best look of awards season and she and her stylist did a really great job.

And as for Billie Eilish...Guys...do you think she might be wearing...Chanel...by any chance? I’m not sure.

Seriously though, as far as an oversized tweed suit with the brand’s logo emblazoned all over it goes, I like this look. The acid green roots and the jewellery are what make it for me, adding to the grunginess of the outfit which is interesting against Chanel’s prim and proper aesthetic of the last few years. I know she has good reason for the way she dresses, but I’ve never quite been able to appreciate it-this outfit proves to me that her style doesn't automatically equal ugly and occasionally, she can make it work.

(L-R: Leona Lewis, Colton Haynes, Dita von Teese)

Elton John’s Oscars afterparty being the less exciting of the two big ones in terms of fashion-the other being the Vanity Fair afterparty which I’ll cover in a moment-I thought I’d whizz through it (posturing aside though, I bet Sir Elton’s party was a lot more fun).

(L-R: Chiara Ferragni, Donatella Versace, Bella Thorne)

This is a big statement considering Alexa Demie attended, but I think Chiara’s outfit and overall styling might be my favourite of the partygoers; if they decided to do a live action Barbie film in 2020 minus the PG ratio-because lets be real, she’d be a noughties Paris Hilton type and get up to some SHENANIGANS-this is the look that would become iconic.

(L-R: Ashley Greene in Off-White, Alexa Demie, Sydney Sweeney, Annalynne McCord)

It was a hard decision to make though: I’m just as into Sydney Sweeney’s interpretation of burlesque come 1950s red carpet Barbie, Ashley Greene’s surprisingly delicate Off-White number, and Alexa’s dress and (as always) impeccable styling. That being said, Chiara’s clearest contender here for the best dressed of the night is Annalynne McCord. I know I'm one to throw similes around but she looks like an ACTUAL Disney princess-the dress is magical and an absolutely flawless fit. She carries it with such grace. I'm truly in love.

(L-R: Tessa Thompson in Versace, Vanessa Hudgens in Vera Wang, SZA)

As for the Vanity Fair Oscars afterparty, there were SO many iconic moments this year. SZA was the definition of the fire emoji, Tessa Thompson’s throwback Versace was the mermaid’s take on BDSM fashion I never knew I need to see, and I’d die to turn up to my graduation ceremony (here’s hoping for a successful attempt at the old uni shebang this time, lol) looking as elegant and simultaneously extra as Vanessa Hudgens did in Vera Wang. I mean, this was before Vanessa went on her dumb Instagram live corona rant because she was upset she couldn’t go to Coachella and I still kinda lived for her, mostly because of moments like this. She’s always been the queen of channelling a more hedonistic, carefree era and this dress is the most refined example of that boho decadence yet. It sounds dramatic to say but the rich purple is such a bold choice considering it’s a a colour we rarely see on the red carpet but now I’ve seen eggplant coloured silk I need it, lol.

(L-R: Suki Waterhouse in Fendi, Lili Reinhart in Marc Jacobs, Lucy Boynton and Margaret Qualley in Chanel)

Then there was Suki, Lilly, Lucy and Margaret as well who all went full angel mode in some of my favourite runway looks of last summer’s haute couture week; Suki’s Fendi dress and Lili’s Marc Jacobs number were highlights of both their shows and there’s something even more magical about them both when the uniformity of the runway is removed. I also would go on about how much I love Lucy Boynton’s style for the millionth time but I think you get my point.

(L-R: Nicole Richie, Cynthia Erivo, Hunter Schafer, Billie Porter)

The more I look at the photos I saved from the Vanity Fair “red” carpet, the more I come to the firm conclusion that these looks are my favourite as a collective. Along with the elegance and sex appeal of the outfits above, we’ve got all these looks too which are so VIBRANT and fun and experimental. Billie Porter is absolutely majestic and continues his reign as the king of in-your-face, theatrical red carpet style, and Hunter and Cynthia look so radiant. Whilst Nicole’s look isn’t as colourful, she still brought drama with the satin gloves and the smoke lined eyes, and she is definitely ready to step on someone’s neck here.

(L-R: Halima Aden, Ella Balinska in Schiaparelli, Emma Roberts, Ciara)

(L-R: Kiki Layne in Michael Kors, Kim Kardashian in Alexander McQueen, Kylie Jenner in Ralph and Russo, Lashana Lynch in Michael Kors)

(L-R: Rowan Blanchard in Iris van Herpen, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Stella Maxwell, and Sarah Paulson with Holland Taylor)

I’ve got to say, it’s really cool to see Rowan Blanchard in Iris van Herpen too; it’s interesting that as far as I know, she and Joey King were the only ones to wear her this awards season, both being up and coming actresses. It would be a good choice for the brand, probably best known for its futuristic, conceptual aesthetic, to also focus its PR efforts on the young potential inheriting that future. Orrrr it could just be that Rowan, Joey and I have the same (good, lol) taste-not gonna lie, from my experience of stalking her instagram Rowan Blanchard does make some unique fashion choices and her feed is full of bold outfit inspiration.

(L-R: Adriana Lima in Ralph and Russo, Alessandra Ambrosio in Armani, Billie Eilish in Gucci, and Donatella Versace in Versace)

Then there’s Billie Eilish, who is really on another level. This is her second custom made baggy suit of the night, this time Gucci. IMAGINE. Chanel and Gucci making custom pieces to suit your very specific style. Again, though, I really like this; whilst it’s very clearly a Billie outfit, it’s got a level of sophistication, cohesiveness and glamour to it that takes it to that I can admire.

(L-R: Camila Mendes in Moschino, Barbara Palvin and Dylan Sprouse, and Chiara Ferragni)

Honestly, the Vanity Fair red carpet really belonged to young talent this year, and Camila Mendes in one of my favourite Moschino looks from the Picasso collection really seals it. She could’ve just gone for a basic pretty dress-this isn’t a natural choice-but she really does have the proud, regal look of a woman who knows some man is gonna paint her a portrait that will end up in a famous gallery one day.

One last thing before I move on, though. How the fuck does Chiara Ferragni get everywhere?! And by that I don’t mean how does she get invited, I had the shock of finding out this woman I followed on Instagram because I liked her outfits and thought she was pretty is a hugely successful businesswoman in Italy long ago. Power to her. She’s a big deal! I get it! I just mean, physically HOW? How do you hit Elton John’s party AND the Vanity Fair party in one night and look this good? God really does have favourites, huh. Well, I guess in this hypothetical scenario where I believe in him anyway.

The SAG Awards

(L-R: Dakota Fanning in Valentino, Kaitlyn Dever in Ralph Lauren, Scarlett Johansson in Armani, and Zoe Kravitz in Oscar de la Renta)

So, I kinda forgot the SAG awards existed and thought that my post was basically finished before I looked in my folder and saw the one dedicated to this ceremony. My initial reaction was like “oh, this is the shitty Oscars, right?” and I assumed the red carpet would be shit and that I could call it a night-it’s 3:30am, I wish I was calling it a night-but then I looked and saw that I had even more outfit photos saved in that folder than I did for my Oscar dedicated one. Because fuck, I want to to sleep, but the SAG awards had a surprisingly good turn out?! So maybe not as irrelevant a ceremony as I thought? Because Dakota Fanning turned up looking like some divine mythical being again, Scarlett Johansson pulled another incredible look out the bag, Zoe Kravitz was a modernised Audrey Hepburn, and Kaitlyn Dever read my comments about her dress being “timelessly pretty” and said “bitch, you really thought” before showing up looking hot as fuck. Truth be told, I think the SAG awards were first but in this universe where Kaitlyn Dever would pay any attention to my opinion of her outfit do we really care?

(L-R: America Ferrera, Andrew Scott in Azzaro Couture, Camila Mendes in Ralph and Russo, Caleb McLaughlin )

(L-R: Lupita Nyongo in Louis Vuitton, Lily Allen, Nathalie Emmanuel in Miu Miu, Cynthia Erivo in Schiaparelli)

See, I was going to make a comment above how I took back what I said about Camila Mendes not just going for pretty dresses (which I guess I just did here instead-JUST TO BE CLEAR SHE STILL LOOKS STUNNING) and then I uploaded the next photo set and got distracted by 2 things:

1. How weird it is that British legend Lily Allen, who does not get NEAR enough credit for her smart her songs were might I add, is dating David Harbour AKA. Hopper off Stranger Things!?

2. How mad I still am about Game of Thrones and how dirty the writers did Nathalie Emmanuel (and Emilia Clarke and Lena Heady and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and basically everyone else on that show but that’s another story).

In this same universe where Kaitlyn Dever cares about my opinion can we make the issues I have in the last bullet point not exist? Please?

(L-R: Sophie Turner in Louis Vuitton, Renee Zellweger in Maison Margiela, Phoebe Waller-Bridge in Armani, and Renee Bargh)

(L-R: Gwendoline Christie in Rick Owens, Madeline Brewer in Monique Lhuillier, Kathryn Newton in Valentino, and Lili Reinhart in Miu Miu)

Finishing off the SAG looks, we’ve got the four above.

Once again, Kathryn Newton was Valentino’s blushing crown jewell; Allie Pressman hate aside, she really is the perfect dressing up doll for the brand. Fresh faced and poised, she has all the elegance and gentle femininity necessary to make floating down the runway as Valentino models do look natural, and Lili Reinhart did an equally good job being a Miu Miu girl. She makes that idiosyncratic cutesy-ness work, all the frills and fragility of a china tea set look easy where I’d just look like I’d been consumed by a charity shop doily. Madeline Brewer did a good job too, helping a Monique Lhuillier design pop in a way that it doesn’t usually. When your hair is bright red and your dress cerulean blue, coral tinted lipstick is a *ahem* choice, buuut in this case it paid off because the result is a look which demanded my attention-ML dresses are reliably pretty, however, they tend to be predictable. Madeline and her styling did a good job subverting that formula. To end the section, though, I feel it’s only fair to save my fave woman til last-probably one of the few people in the world that isn’t a Rick Owens model that can pull off his designs. Ofc, I’m talking about the queen that is Gwendoline Christie. If we’re talking embodying brands, she did justice like nobody else could to the spectacle of Owens’ formidable, out-of-this-world aesthetic. This is her version of the princess moment, and when you’re as striking as she is, nothing less would do.

At least my girl Brienne of Tarth is thriving<3

The Grammys

(L-R: Ariana Grande in Giambattista Valli, Cardi B in Mugler, and Pia Mia in Julien Macdonald)

TBH, like I said with the Brits, I never planned to do any music award ceremony red carpets, just because I feel like the fashion tends to be more geared towards a younger audience buuuut I’m kinda glad I changed because Ariana looks INCREDIBLE. MESMERISING. TRANSCENDENT. JFC. There’s a reason the photo of her on her Wiki page has been changed to one from this night and it’s because she looks absolutely exquisite, like some kind of moon goddess with an R&B touch which I suppose is kind of her brand? Sometimes I go kind of lukewarm on Giambattista Valli and forget how mystical but at the same time frothy and indulgent and all around luxurious the pieces can be. This is a cupcake of a dress and I want to eat it. Cardi B has become a bit of an unexpected fashion icon and Pia Mia looks as hot-party-girl as ever but I feel to put anyone next to Ariana in this dress seems harsh because she just completely stole the show and I don’t even know if she won any Grammys.

(L-R: Josephine Relli, Gwen Stefani, Jameela Jamil in Georges Chakra, and Chrissy Teigen in Yanina Couture)

Other than Ariana, I’m not gonna lie, there was nothing wildly exciting, BUT I did think there were some beautiful colours out on the runway-plus for all her occasionally bad takes I really like what Jameela Jamil stands for and her style has always been very quirky cool. The electric blue tiled effect with the black mesh underneath kinda reminds me of a peacock, and contrasts wonderfully with the carpet-it’s very reminiscent of her T4 days. She’s one of those people that seems to get aggression directed at her that’s completely disproportionate to whatever it is she’s supposed to have done; sometimes the way she goes about saying things is wrong but the intention behind what she’s saying is usually good. Then again, the internet still despises Chrissy Teigen (in a way that’s kind of excessive considering what we seem to collectively let some people get away with) for a dumb AirPods tweet and I’ve included her too. THIS IS NOT A POLITICAL STATEMENT, this time anyway. I just think she looks good!

If I’m going to get controversial about anything, it’ll be Gwen Stefani. She looks stunning, the dress is stunning, and the boots are stunning. The outfit is not my problem! My problem is how she seems not to have aged at all. This woman is 50 years old! That she drank the blood of her Harajuku girls is the only explanation here. Can you imagine if she tried to pull that shit today? She’d get rightly accused of being a culturally appropriating weeb in about 10 seconds flat and we’d have to pretend to stop liking Cool and Hollaback Girl.

(L-R: Finneas O’Connell in Gucci, Lucky Daye, and Shaun Ross)

(L-R: Tess Holliday, Dua Lipa in Alexander Wang, Tyler the Creator, and Grace Elizabeth in Giuseppe di Morabito)

Back to what I’m supposed to be talking about in this blog post: the fashion. And here, most importantly, Tyler the Creator looking like a cast member of the Grand Budapest Hotel. IDK why. But I love this man.

(L-R: Lil Nas X in Versace, Lizzo in Versace, and Shawn Mendes in Louis Vuitton)

(L-R: Billie Porter, FKA Twigs in Ed Marler, and Swae Lee in Giuseppe Zanotti)

See in general, the men were a lot more interesting on the Grammys red carpet. With the exception of Twigs, Dua and obviously Ariana, the men’s outfits are a lot more memorable; Billie Porter became the most fashionable meme on the internet, for god’s sake. And even when their outfits weren’t extravagant, they were just more interesting, imo, which is a rare occurrence. I didn’t expect Finneas O’Connell to be the writing half of Billie Eilish (the other half being Billie herself) I cared about and yet, in that Gucci blazer, here we are.

(L-R: Jessie J, Hailee Steinfeld, and Madison Beer)

(L-R: H.E.R, Usher, FKA Twigs, and Matt Shultz)

Of the afterparty looks, my favourites are what we can see of these more casual outfits-I love what F.K.A Twigs and H.E.R are wearing, the headscarf with the leatherjacket on top is in particular very throwback rockabilly, and I’m even into whatever it is Usher’s got on.

(L-R: Olivia O’Brien, Amine, and Alrissa)

(L-R: Salem Mitchell, Machine Gun Kelly, and Sydney Sweeney)

Now, how to round this all up!? How to relate the confusingly persistent but very welcome presence of Sydney Sweeney on, like, ALL these red carpets back to the MET!?

IDEK. It’s been a long year.

The Met Gala has usually come and gone before we know it, but with everything going on, it’s been the longest January-May I think most of us have ever known. I keep going on about COVID-19 in all my posts now but I have almost forgotten how to write an intro and outro because the pandemic is pretty much consistently on the brain and unless I have something right in front of me to use as a distraction, my mind tends to wander off into a very anxious place. I think, like many others, I feel frustrated and disappointed and angry with the way the situation is being handled by the people who are supposed to protect their citizens, and by how much of a fight some are putting up against measures that are in place to try and save lives. The point of this ramble, I guess, is that whilst we should never forget what’s going on and do the best we can to help prevent the spread of the virus, it’s okay to still care about mundane shit. Was this post one big long distraction for me? Probably. But if there’s something harmless you can do to keep your anxiety at bay, don’t feel bad for doing it. Contrary to popular belief, you can care about more than one thing at once. You can be sad that something you were looking forward to has been cancelled whilst still being sad for the people who are suffering because they’ve lost love ones or who have been forced into precarious living conditions. If talking about clothes on the internet is going to help you get through this pandemic, power to you.

If anyone has read til the end, thank you! I hope you are well! As always, feel free to reply to the post or inbox me with your thoughts! It doesn’t even have to be related to this post. If you’re struggling with everything going on, feel free to reach out too. I spend too much time on the internet anyway, lol! My plans are to finish my fashion week reviews and then I have a Lana Del Rey albums inspired lookbook which I pinched off the stans on Twitter (who I will of course credit when I write it!). For the time being, look after yourselves!

Lauren x

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