#r writes a thing

[another-punk-trans-woman]

I had a friend come to me today and ask me, "How do I fight against the genocide" (of trans people)

And it made me realize that I didn't know. Because sure, we're all pissed and scared, but fighting something this big seems impossible.

So I guess the only answer I have is

Where you can.

Find a way, ANY way, to resist.

Make little signs to leave in places to educate the masses about what we are facing

Find a local protest

Tell everyone you know. Don't you EVER shut up about it, because freedom will die in silence.

This is how you fight a fascist, not in the streets or on the internet, but in the minds of the people they need to convince that you are the enemy.

Do not let them into the heads of your friends, your family, your coworkers. Do not give them an inch.

Make sure everyone knows what they are. They are pure fucking evil, and the enemy of anyone who claims to be a supporter of any human rights at all.

Do not let them keep you quiet.

[gingerswagfreckles]

After 146 days, the Writer's Strike has ended with a resounding success. Throughout constant attempts by the studios to threaten, gaslight, and otherwise divide the WGA, union members stood strong and kept fast in their demands. The result is a historic win guaranteeing not only pay increases and residual guarantees, but some of the first serious restrictions on the use of AI in a major industry.

This win is going to have a ripple effect not only throughout Hollywood but in all industries threatened by AI and wage reduction. Studio executives tried to insist that job replacement through AI is inevitable and wage increases for staff members is not financially viable. By refusing to give in for almost five long months, the writer's showed all of the US and frankly the world that that isn't true.

Organizing works. Unions work. Collective bargaining how we bring about a better future for ourselves and the next generation, and the WGA proved that today. Congratulations, Writer's Guild of America. #WGAstrong!!!

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[kidovna]

Favourite fandom trope of the day: wisdom teeth removal

[keyotos]

"you know, if being cute was a crime, you'd be guilty as charged!"

you have been at this for hours (it has only been a few minutes) now. wriothesley, who has been idly sipping his tea with a straight face, has not yet wavered at your terrible pick-up lines.

"that one was bad," he sips. you roll your eyes.

you clear your throat, "if fine was a felony, you'd be on death row," you give wriothesley an exaggerated wink.

he gives you a disconcerted look.

you pout, "okay, c'mon! that one was good!"

wriothesley puts his teacup on the table and moves his chair closer to yours, "i don't think death row should be associated with romance," he shakes his head, "that may have been the worse one today."

"i think that was, 'are you a crime? because i'll do you anyday!'" you laugh and grab wriothesley's teacup, taking a drink out of it so ordinarily.

wriothesley basks in this. tonight is a quiet night: the inmates aren't awake, sigewinne has clocked out for the day, and you are here. it's strange how you are one of the loudest people wriothesley knows of, yet you make the world sound so quiet when you're around. whatever your magic is, wriothesley isn't opposed to it.

everything about this scene reads domesticity, even though the two of you have been together for a couple of months. spending late nights together, sleeping in the same bed, drinking out of the same teacup? if someone had told wriothesley a few months ago that he would be doing these things (nevertheless with you), he would have called them mad. but here he is, sitting in his office doing nothing but drinking tea, while hearing you recite horrible pick-up lines.

"wouldn't it be the perfect crime if i stole your heart and you stole mine?" you push the teacup towards you boyfriend.

wriothesley winces, "maybe that was the worse one today."

"what?! i thought that one wasn't bad."

your boyfriend looks to the side, "it was really cheesy."

"clearly, you missed the point of pick-up lines," you lay your head down on the desk, "i'd like to see you come up with one."

wriothesley chuckles. you relish in the fact that you are one of the only people that have ever heard him laugh. it's an unexpected sound, and it always comes out more lighter than most people would think. but it's endearing, just like him; you always think that a light chortle from him would paint your dark skies to a clear blue.

"i'm saving myself from the embarrassment," wriothesley sips out of the teacup, on the same side you drank of, you might add.

"boring," you draw out the syllables of the word.

"what? did you run out of lines?" wriothesley teased you, taking another drink out of the teacup to hide his smile. he watched as your face morphed into a light grimace.

"i did not, actually," you raise your head off the desk, "in fact, i'm thinking of one right now."

"oh no..." wriothesley shivers. you shoot him a petulant look. he backs down.

when you think, you have this habit of sticking your tongue out of your lips, just ever-so slightly. your eyebrows crease just a little bit, not enough to be furrowed, but enough to not be at resting position. your eyes don't narrow, they widen. wriothesley thinks that if someone caught you like this on a kamara, your photos would go down in history.

finally, after what felt like years (it was one minute), you look back up at him. this time, however, your eyes are laced with uncertainty rather than flirtatiousness.

"if being in love is illegal, would you be my partner in crime?"

love. you guys haven't talked about it yet.

was that why your eyes were so full of nervousness? did you think he didn't love you back? if that was the case, then it'd be preposterous, for how can anyone look at you and not fall in love? although, wriothesley supposes that it's a good thing, because that means you're his to have.

one side of his brain is in doubt. it's just a joke, it says, they're not being truthful, it's just a pick-up line. but his heart says otherwise. if they were joking, then why do their eyes look like that? why are they fidgeting with their fingers? why are they gently tapping their foot on the ground?

love has never been a consideration for wriothesley. throughout his life, it has been abandonment and independence. there's only been room for one, not two. but you: you reconstructed his entire mind. so now, when he thinks about drinking tea, he doesn't drink alone anymore. when he's staying late to do paperwork, he doesn't have to be alone while doing so. when there was one, there is now two.

oh.

oh.

oh shit. your confession of love came from a pick-up line. and it actually worked on him, because he loves you back. he loves you back so much. wriothesley loves you back with his heart, his mind, his body, and possibly his soul. and he realized the extent of his love through a pick-up line. from you out of all people.

though, even though he's in love with you, he's not letting you get the satisfaction of your line working.

"i don't know. according to the my close friend, the duke of meropide, he says it's illegal to participate in criminal activities." wriothesley's tone is soft. his eyes are full of endearment. your eyebrows stop crinkling, and your eyes revert back to normal. you know. you know.

you give into an easy smile, "don't you think your friend, the duke, is a little too compliant to the law?"

"sorry, he's not changing his ways. but," wriothesley gets out of his chair and strides towards you. his hand meet your jawline, and his thumb traces the corner of your lip that's turned downwards due to your pout. with his thumb, he guides it upward, making it so you were smiling. he laughs slightly⎯twice tonight, which is something he did not expect to do⎯and moves his thumb to lightly caress your bottom lip.

he uses his hand to tilt your head up towards him. you know what's coming, and you excitedly lean in closer. wriothesley tilts his head down to meet your lips, carefully tracing every angle of your jaw as he does so. you meet him halfway, closing the gap between you two almost immediately. wriothesley can feel you happily grin into the kiss. you grab his shirt collar and pull him closer into you, and he obliges with no hesitation.

you are the first one to pull away, and it takes all of wriothesley's willpower to stop himself from pulling you back in.

"but?" you ask, chest heaving up and down. wriothesley, the bastard, is still breathing normally. "does the duke of meropide have any contentions?"

wriothesley shakes his head, "i think he could make some exceptions," he whispers, grinning while doing so.

he doesn't miss the beaming glow of your smile as leans in once more. and then, he knows that he'll be your partner in crime for a long time.

[bruisedboys]

can I request eddie and shy!reader with reader’s first kiss?! I imagine he’d be so gentle with her!

I want him to be my first kiss so bad!! waiting for him to be real so he can kiss me tbh

summary: eddie gives shy!you your first kiss

shy!fem!reader 0.9k words

Eddie thinks you look really pretty.

He’d tell you so but he’s already told you twice tonight, and he’s pretty sure if he says it again you’ll burst into flames on the spot. You’re quite shy — it’s endearing and very adorable but it also means Eddie has to be more careful of what he says and does. He wouldn’t want to scare you off.

He watches you pore over a book, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He badly wants to tell you how lovely you look. In a t-shirt that’s too big for you and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair all messy pretty and tucked behind your ears. He holds his tongue, turning back to the old band tee he’s hacking the sleeves off on his bedroom floor.

“Eddie?”

Your voice breaks the comfortable silence you and Eddie had been sitting in. Eddie puts down his scissors and looks up. He likes the way you’ve said his name, like he’s the only person ever. He’s sure he sounds similar when he says your name. He smiles at you.

“Yeah?”

You shuffle forwards on his bed, sliding to the edge until your legs dangle off. Eddie’s struck, yet again, by how beautiful you are. It takes all the breath out of his chest.

“Um.” You pause then, and get this nervous look on your face. Eddie knows it well. You’re often nervous around him.

He sits up straighter. By the looks of it you’re wanting to tell him something. Or ask him something. “Yeah, honey?”

Your eyes flick to Eddie and then back to your hands where they’re twisted in your lap. Eddie sees the tap tap tap of your foot, the wringing of your hands. He shuffles forward on the floor and gets a hand on your knee, fingers curling around the bottom of your thigh.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

When you answer your staring at your lap, determined to avoid Eddie’s eyes.

“Well … I just. I was reading that part in The Princess Bride, the bit about the five kisses? And I just wondering …” You reach up and scrub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

Eddie balks. He was not expecting that. It’s a big question — for you to ask and for Eddie to answer. He has his own reasons. The biggest one being he’s afraid to scare you off, to mess up maybe the best thing in his life right now. Not only that, but he knows how tentative you are about relationship stuff. It’s all new to you.

The silence stretches too long. Eddie rushes to break it before you think he’s gone and backed out on you.

“Oh.” He says, more flustered than he’s ever been with you. Normally you’re the flustered one. He’s realising now how hard it is being on the receiving end. “Well, um. I … I guess—“

“Do you not want to?” You ask quietly, interrupting Eddie’s rambling.

Eddie stops short. “What?” He stares up at you. He can hardly believe you think that. Of course he wants to kiss you — he’d kind of thought you wouldn’t want him to. “No. No, sweetheart, that’s not it. I just. Well, I just wanted to wait until you were ready … “ He pauses, catches the look on your face, like you’re waiting for something to happen. “Are you ready?”

You bite your lip. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders what it would be like to kiss your lips. You nod very slowly.

“I think so,” you say. You’re staring at his mouth now.

Eddie nods so quick he almost snaps his neck. He hardly cares.

“Okay,” he says earnestly. He scrambles to his feet and then moves to stand in front of you, your knees pressing into his legs.

You blink up at him. Eddie can’t resist taking your face in his hands. Your skin is hot to touch. He imagines his face would feel the same.

“You’re really pretty,” he says despite himself. Even though he’d promised not to tell you again until at least tomorrow.

“Eddie,” you chide softly.

Eddie just grins. “Are you sure you want to?” He asks you, struggling to hear himself over the thump of his heart in his ears. He very much wants to give you a Princess Bride worthy kiss right now.

You nod around his hands. “I’m sure,” you say.

Eddie leans in then. His hands on your face, pulling you gently towards him. His eyelids fluttering shut. It feels different but it feels right. He’s about half a second away from kissing you when you say,

“Wait.”

Eddie opens his eyes. You’re so close he could count your eyelashes.

“What?” He whispers back.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you say. Your breath fans over Eddie’s mouth, your lips ghosting over his. It takes all his might not to kiss you right then and there. “I don’t know how,” you admit.

“That’s okay,” Eddie tells you. It is okay. And he’s maybe a lot more honoured than he should be that he’s gonna be your first kiss. “You’ll learn.”

“You’ll teach me?”

Eddie looks at you and thinks yeah, he’ll teach you. He’ll do literally anything you could ever ask of him. “Of course, angel.”

“Okay,” you say. You smile and Eddie thinks if he doesn’t kiss you now he might pass out.

He kisses you. He doesn’t pass out but he comes pretty close.

-

[turontot]

WOOOO FINALLY FINISHED IT AFTER A WHOLE MONTH!!!

this is for the starfish fans all three of us!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this goes out to u!!!!!!!!!!

(PLEASE DM ME FIRST FOR PERMISSION IF YOU PLAN ON REPOSTING!)

[harbingersglory]

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints

"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."

The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.

"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."

The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.

"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"

Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.

"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.

She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.

"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.

How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.

She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.

She certainly wants to, and she intends to.

The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.

"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."

Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.

She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.

Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.

She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.

For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.

She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.

[ceilidho]

im not interested in writing a threesome that isn't ghoap x reader because im way more into that, but im chewing on fucking leather thinking about Ghost not just looking for but needing Price's approval, needing just that moment of understanding between them that lets Ghost know that he's got his back.

he doesn't want Price to fuck you, but he needs him in the room, just Price's voice in his ear and your voice in his ear and his captain's big hand on his nape making sure he doesn't mess up, making sure he doesn't screw up when he's pounding into you, making you take something big and brutish. something that could hurt you if he isn't careful. because he's an angry junkyard dog that bites hard and doesn't let go, but Price is the one that holds his leash and makes sure he doesn't break the most important thing in his life.

[cursedzucchini]

You know what? Fuck it

DC x DP prompt #3

I think at least lmao.

Anyway! Jason starts making videos on YouTube for one reason or another (is really stressed, no one listens to his rants Abt books who cares). His content is mostly bad books he read or really really really long rants Abt pride and prejudice. Like 3 hours on one tiny detail he noticed on his 214th read through.

He's kinda popular, mostly bc his terrible books videos. He talks Abt the ones that made him the most mad, which coincidentally are mostly romance and supernatural. Like he's one of the well known figures in the supernatural romance critique group (whcih is pretty small, but well). (Also he doesn't show his face on camera, bc secret identity and stuff, it's just his voice over a video of something mundane, like the sky or a room in which is a fly or something)

And now this can go two ways, that i can think of (w dead on main in mind at least)

1) one day Jason finds a book which is supernatural romance and is actually good. It has a kidna cliche system for the supernatural stuff, but with a refreshing twist. The characters have depts and flaws, yet are still very likable. The plot is actually interesting and overall the story's theme is death, not belonging anywhere and overall stuff that is very close to Jason's heart. The story doesn't shy away from violence and it is suprisingly accurate.

(I'm.gonna reblog this w pretty long idea of what this book could be Abt, bc i don't wanna annoy ppl lol)

Anyway Jason kinda falls in love w it, and it becomes famous for being the first novel Jason rated positively or something.

Meanwhile Danny, who was told by jazz writing is good way to get his feeling out, and just wanted to make a quick buck, is really fucking confused how tf did his book become so popular and who tf is this nerd who rates books for a living.

(basically big fan Jason and suspicious/awkward Danny lmao)

2) there is a famous series on Jason profile. It's the worst fucking series he ever read and it's just fucking awful. All the characters are fucking terrible, always going on and on about one thing, the romance sucks in a way that isnt even funny. Jason would love to believe some wrote this as a joke, if it wasn't for the absolute cringefest this was, and it wasn't a whole ass series!! Like who writes 12 books for a joke?

Danny ducking Fenton that's who. Dude was so ducking annoyed at his rogues, he threatened them w writing a terrible romance novels abt them. The ghosts, knowing his terrible grade in literature backed off for a moment, before someone crossed the line. And write Danny did. It was the worst thing he had ever written, the love interest was perfect caricature yet still faithfully go the original. And Danny, because fuck them he lost sommuch sleep over that one prank, decided to publish it. (The book was pretty thin so it didn't take that much time writing it). Unfortunately it became immensely popular in the infinite realm. So the ghosts started crossing lines on purpose. Before Danny figured it out, he had already published his fifth book and was writing another three. After some bargaining, getting a book written Abt them as a piece of shit love interest became a reward.

And while yeah, he had to say his writing was terrible and the books sucked, some small part of him was kinda proud y'know? Like a mother of her twelve ugly as fuck toddlers.

So when he saw some nerd on the internet not only shit talk his book, but also get money of it?

Danny decided to haunt him (just like his books did him, now that everyone knew Abt them thanks to this guy)

(enemies (sorta it's not that serious tho) to lovers ala terrible writer Danny who hates his books and kinda famous YouTuber hasn't who also hates Danny's books)

--

Fuck this is way too long wtf. Anyway imma reblog this w 1) book idea. Might add whatever i think the twelve books could be Abt. Pls if u want to add anything to this pls do!!

[christakisbang]

yes, lee know-ya i see you aging along with me you're the second oldest but, to me you'll always be the maknae~♡

[another-punk-trans-woman]

I feel like not enough people talk about the overwhelming grief that comes with being transfem. The grief that punches through your ribcage and hammers on your heart and won't ever stop because in feeling like yourself, you're also doomed to be so alone.

The world demands a perfect performance of trans women, but no one can be perfect forever. And so you lose everything and everyone, over and over again because youre in that group of societies favorite outcasts and it Hurts. But you tell yourself that it could be worse. You could still be who you were before you realized.

But that doesn't stop the grief of all that loss from swallowing you whole. And it doesn't stop you from needing connection (for long, at least) but there's no connection to find. And so you sit there and you grieve, and you hurt and sob, until it gets to be to much and now those trusted few are grieving you, too.

And fuck, we all need less grief in our lives so please, please, PLEASE hug your trans friends for me today. Send that wierd, off-putting girl a hug emoji, tell her you think of her. Ask your old friend that you don't talk to anymore to hang out again sometime.

Love EVERY trans woman you meet before it's too late.

[beatcroc]

there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y

hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]

[summerlove-r]

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Has he ever fucked you like this?

Part Two: This is a date. Not a hookup. Part Three:

You get back at your cheating boyfriend by hooking up with Eddie at a party.

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word Count: 3469

Warnings: smut, cheating!reader, oral female receiving, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, use of the words whore, slut, and cunt. Slapping/spanking, spitting, unprotected sex, unnamed boyfriend, y/n used twice

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Your boyfriend's arm was heavy against your shoulders. The weight makes you even more irritated than you already were. He had pretty much ignored you the whole night. He flirted with girls the whole time you guys were at this stupid party.

"Hey, babe, get us a drink will ya?" Your boyfriend asked you. Was he fucking serious? Asking you to get a drink for him and this random girl. The fourth one he's talked to tonight. You gave your best smile and said in a peppy voice, "Sure." You walked through the crowds of dancing bodies, being careful not to trip on anything or anyone that was on the floor.

You made it to the kitchen. Your heels clicked with every step you took on the tile floor. You grabbed a random cup, not caring to check if it had been used or not. Not like your boyfriend would care to check for you if he were in your shoes.

You were looking through the various glass bottles, trying to remember which one your boyfriend said he liked best. You were torn between two when someone walked up next to you. You looked down, recognizing the white shoes and black jeans immediately. "You're boyfriends practically fucking a girl on that couch over there." He told you in a low voice, trying to make it look as if you guys weren't talking to anyone who might be looking.

"You don't think I fucking know?" You retorted. You began unscrewing and pouring whatever drinks were on the counter. You didn't care which liquids you were mixing. You just needed to get your mind off of your asshole of a boyfriend. "Can you be so mad though? You know, considering..." "Considering what, Eddie?" You talked harshly, finally turning your head to look at him.

"You're not so innocent. We both know that." Eddie took a swig of the beer in his hand. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Sadly, pre-eye roll you saw your boyfriend. On the couch, a girl sitting on his lap. A different girl by the way. Not the one you left him with. Her hands played with the buttons of his shirt, laughing and slapping his chest lightly at whatever stupid joke he made.

"You know, I would never guess that that guy's girlfriend was over here and not in his lap." You took a deep breath, trying to control your anger. You knew what Eddie was trying to do. He was trying to get you mad so you'd take him to a room and let him fuck you like an animal. You threw the plastic cup into the sink and headed to the backyard. You walked fast, trying to lose Eddie. You went through the slider door and tried to close it but Eddie's large hand stopped you from doing so.

You groaned and went toward the white chair sitting by the pool. It was nice out here. There was a slight breeze. You took a seat and Eddie gladly sat in the chair next to you, scooting it a bit to get close to you. You looked around, it was just the two of you out here.

You kept your eyes on the very blue water. Your attention was grabbed when you heard the sound of a lighter trying to ignite. You turned your head to see Eddie with a cigarette between his lips.

His soft pink lips.

You watched as he inhaled and blew smoke out. You swear your panties got wet at the sight. You clawed your eyes off of him, putting them back to the water. "You want a smoke, trouble?" "I know what you're trying to do, Eddie, and it's not going to work so you might as well go back inside and look for some lonely whore to fuck instead of wasting your time out here with me."

Eddies lips curved into a smirk, "What am I trying to do." You rolled your eyes. You hate Eddie with all your heart right now. But maybe not with your dripping cunt.

It's not Eddie that got you turned. He was part of it for sure but what really got you going was the idea of fucking someone to get back at your boyfriend without him even knowing. You liked the idea of sneaking around. Liked the risk.

"You're trying to get me to fuck you and I'm not in the mood right now." You crossed your arms over your chest making your tits raise a bit. Eddie eyed your chest as his imagination ran wild. He stared at your boobs for a few seconds before he sat up. "Okay." Eddie's walked over to you and his crotch was right in front of you. He stuck his cigarette into your slightly parted lips and walked away going back into the house.

Your mouth dropped causing the burning cigarette to fall onto the skin of your exposed thighs. "Shit." You gasped and threw the cig into the pool. You couldn't believe he actually left. Eddie never gave up that easily. You rolled your eyes. You were now completely alone. A few minutes went by when you heard the door open again. You turned your head hoping to see Eddie but instead, it was your boyfriend, stumbling towards you. Red lipstick was all over his skin. You wanted to kill him and whoever's lipstick that was.

"Bebe." He slurred. "What do you want?" You slouched. He sat down in the seat next to you. Eddies seat. A boner was obvious in his bright blue jeans. "Help." He said and began to palm himself. "Wheres your whore? Shouldn't she help you with that?" He unbuttoned his pants and you stood up. You ignored his pleas to stay as you walked back inside the crowded house. There seemed to be more people than there was the last time you were in here.

There were practically fumes coming out of your nose and ears as you searched for Eddie. You found him in the kitchen talking to a girl. She wore a pink dress and matching heels. Girly. You rolled your eyes at Eddie's clear type.

You smirked, an idea coming to your head. You walked toward the bathroom, surprisingly there was no line. You slid your underwear off underneath your dress and bunched them up in your hand. You made your way back over to Eddie. The girl was laughing. You pretend as if you didn't even notice Eddie was there. You swiftly slid your lacey underwear into his hand. Eddies eyes widened as he realized what you stuffed into his hand. You walked away and Eddie watched every step you took.

You walked into an empty bedroom not long after you were joined by Eddie. You sat at the edge of the bed, legs crossed. Eddie quickly made his way toward you. He was barely sitting when he smashed his lips against yours.

He wasted no time snaking his hand up your dress. He hummed feeling how wet you were. "All this for me?" He asked. "Guess I'm the lonely whore you'll be fucking tonight, Munson." You joked, clearly hurt but too turned on to care. "What about your boyfriend?" Eddie began to rub your clit. You sighed feeling a wave of pleasure rush through you. "Who cares about him? Probably getting sucked off by some bitch right now." You rolled your hips trying to get more pleasure. Eddie slipped a finger inside you and you whined feeling the coldness of his rings at your entrance. "Do you think he knows?" Eddie asked.

You began humping Eddie's hand, desperate to cum, His palm rubbed against your clit making you bite your lip. "What does it matter, Eddie?" You whined. You came to Eddie to forget about your boyfriend and it seemed as if he was his biggest fan. "It doesn't." Eddie smashed his lips against yours again. His tongue explored your mouth freely as he continued to finger you, slipping another finger in. "Mmm Eddie. 'M gonna cum." You moaned. "Fuck already?" Eddie teased and you nodded feeling closer and closer. "Fuckin' whore." Eddie mumbled and sped up his fingers.

You came like a virgin on Eddie's fingers. You hadn't cum in a while. You had sex with your boyfriend often but you'd rarely finish. Your boyfriend only cared about getting himself off.

Eddie groaned seeing your face as your orgasm hit. He began undoing his belt. "Take this shit off." He said and pulled the strap of your dress off. You quickly unzipped the back. The black material fell forward and your boobs sprung free. Eddie threw his shirt off. He kissed along your neck going down to your chest, ghosting over your nipple. He nipped at it and pushed you down. Your back fell to the bed and Eddie kneeled in front of you. You lifted your hips and hiked your dress around your waist.

Eddie was inches away from your core. He blew his hot breath onto your aching clit. "Eddie..." You whined. He ignored you and lightly bit the inside of your thigh. Your cunt was pink and puffy from your previous orgasm.

"Such a pretty pussy, Baby," Eddie whispered before kitty licking your hood. You cried out still sensitive. "Eddie." You moaned. He repeatedly lapped his tongue over your clit. Your back arched at the sudden speed of movement. "Fuck, Eddie!" You cried. Eddie slapped the underside of your thigh. "Shut up. Can't have your boyfriend hearing us now, can we?

"N-no" You struggled to get out. You threw your arm over your face, hiding in the inside of your elbow. Eddie continued his movements on your clit as he enters his fingers inside of you once more.

Your walls were tight around his fingers. He went in and out curving his fingers inside of you. "Eddie- mm don't stop please." Eddie pulled his tongue away from you replacing it with his thumb. "Does your boyfriend ever go down on you like this?" Eddie asked, already knowing the answer. The first time you had ever been eaten out was by Eddie and you felt like you were floating. You practically were with how much your back was arching. Your boyfriend refuses to put his face anywhere near your cunt because he thought it was gross. But whenever you didn't want to give him head he would throw a fit.

"Eddie, you already know the answer..." You clenched around him feeling your orgasm approach you. "Let me hear it." "I'm gonna cum, Eddie." You gasped as he removed his fingers from your hole. His thumb froze on your clit.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Eddie?" You whined. Eddie swore he saw tears in your eyes. You watched as Eddie pulled his pants down. His hard cock poked through the hole in his boxers making your mouth water.

Eddie crawled over you. "We would be so good together, you know?" Eddie whispered. You frowned at his words. When you and Eddie first started hooking up it was just that. No feelings attached. Just two people trying to get off. However, as time went on and you guys continued to meet up Eddie started developing feelings for you.

A few weeks ago Eddie asked if you guys would ever be more than just fuck buddies. You being very pissed that day told him a very mean no. Eddie was upset and took his anger out on you. He fucked you so hard that day you were sore for a week. After that, Eddie would take no notice of you at all. You began to worry if you actually hurt his feelings. So one day at school you pulled him into an empty classroom hoping to apologize for rejecting him so rudely but you ended up bent over a desk with your panties pooled around your ankles.

"Eddie, we've talked about this before..." You muttered. When you thought of Eddie you thought of him as a fuck. That was it. You never found yourself thinking of Eddie in ways he wished you did.

Eddie pulled his cock out of his boxers, too impatient to pull them all the way down. "He doesn't make you feel as good as I make you do," Eddie said in a low voice. He ran his leaking top through your shiny folds. Rubbing circles over your puffy clit.

"Just be with me, baby. What does he have that I don't?" Eddie places his tip at your entrance. He watched as you clenched around nothing. "He treats you like shit. I'd treat you like a princess. Hell, I already do." Eddie pushed his hips into yours.

You whined as his cock stretched you out. Even though Eddie had fucked you out on his fingers nothing could prepare you for Eddie's fat cock. "Can he fill you up like this, baby?" Eddie asked and started rocking his hips.

Wet sounds filled the room along with the slapping of your guy's skin. "Hmm, baby?" Eddie slapped your face wanting to hear a response. You whimpered at the stinging feeling on your cheek. "No, Eddie."

"Fuck no he doesn't. Only I can make you feel this good and you fucking know it," Eddie rammed into your tight hole. Small grunts and groans came from his mouth with each thrust he made. "You're- You're the only- one that makes me feel like thi-s, Eds." You told him, knowing how much he likes it.

"Fuck yeah, baby," Eddie mumbled into your ear and began nibbling at your lobe. Eddies hips somehow increased in speed making you scream. Eddie put his hand over your mouth, making sure not to cover your nose. He put so much weight on your jaw yet you were still making noise. Eddies ego boosted, smirking, he slanted his hips slightly hitting that spot that made you feel like you were floating.

Eddie loosened his grip on your mouth so he could hear the multiple praises that fell from your lips pleading Eddie to keep hitting that sweet spot inside of you. Tears fell from your eyes, you couldn't feel anything besides Eddie's cock speeding in and out of you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna fucking cum, Eddie, please please." You exclaimed. Your nails left long red marks against Eddies back. "Has he ever fucked you like this?" Eddie asked and moved his hand that was over your mouth to your clit. "No. nonono. Eddie, he doesn't- fuck! He- he doesn't fuck me like this, he can't even make me cum." You admitted and Eddie scoffed. "He doesn't deserve you." Eddies thumb against your clit made you scream as you came. Eddie didn't stop his movements making your whole body shake.

The overstimulation made you cry. It was too much to handle. Not long after you felt another knot in your stomach. This one was different. Coldness ran through your body and was quickly replaced with heat, "Eddie, don't stop I'm gonna cum again. Please, please. Feels so good don't stop." You tightly wrapped your legs around Eddie's waist.

Eddie laughed, "Already, princess? Am I that- fuck. That good?" You rapidly nodded your head as you came around Eddie's cock. "Jesus fuck." You heard Eddie mumble as he looked down at his dick thrusting in and out of you. He watched as liquid squirted out of you. You felt the bed underneath you become soaked.

Eddie's hips began to stutter as you kept releasing fluids. "God, you're a fucking whore, squirting on my cock. Little slut." You moaned loudly when someone began banging on the door. Eddies hand went over your mouth. His movements slowed and came to a full stop, trying to hear who was at the door.

"Y/n, are you in there?" Your boyfriend shouted from the outside of the door. You heard the doorknob rattle and your eyes widened. A tear fell down the side of your face. You weren't sure if it was from Eddie fucking you or from fear of getting caught.

"You better keep quiet or else he'll find out what a filthy whore you are." Eddies whispered as his hips began thrusting into you again. Your fluids continue to flow out making Eddie laugh. "Look at you, so fucking pathetic all fucked out on my cock." Eddie smacked your thigh that was clinging onto him. You yelped as he did it again. "Stop it." You told him and he did it again. You dug your face into the curve of his neck. You bit down on him causing Eddie to moan and spank you again.

"Eddie..." You whispered. "What, beautiful? Got another one for me?" Eddie chuckled. "Mhm," You hummed. More tears fell out of your eyes as you came again. Eddie didn't stop. He went faster. He loved overstimulating you. Loved the way you screamed and tightened around hum. He could tell you were trying your hardest to keep quiet even though you weren't being quiet at all.

"Eddie... No more please." You cried. There were wet spots on the sides of your head from your tears. "Shut the fuck up." Eddie pulled out of you and flipped you around. You lay flat on your stomach.

Eddie began rubbing your ass. He spanked your check and you yelped. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "You know the safe word, right, pretty?" You nodded against the bed and he spanked you again. "Good girl."

Eddie spread your folds to get a better look at your abused hole. "So pretty, baby." He spits on your entrance making your back arch. Eddie slammed into you making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You smashed your face into the bed.

Eddie grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you up. You turned your head, "Open your mouth." He demanded. You listened and the next thing you knew Eddie was spitting into your mouth. Some of it dripped down your chin and he licked it right up. Eddie messily made out with you and he started to groan, You knew those noises all too well. "Fuck- Baby, 'm gonna cum." Eddie pulled out of you and roughly grabbed your face, pulling you down. Eddie jerked himself off and you held your mouth wide open. Eddies moaned as his sperm hit the back of your throat.

Eddie crawled down next to you. You were both sweaty and sticky. The bed beneath you was soaked from your fluids. Eddie put his arms around you. He pulled you close, and your back rested against his chest. The two of you were tired, trying to catch your guy's breath.

"Y/n, I really truly like you. I like you more than just a fuck." You frowned at his words. Eddies fingers rubbed your arm soothingly. Honestly, you could die happy here but you would never admit it. You sighed, "Eddie... You know I have a boyfriend." You turned around to face him. Your makeup was trashed. You looked like you went through hell but in reality, it was the complete opposite.

"I could treat you so much better than that asshole." You closed your eyes trying to think of the nicest way to turn Eddie down. "I know, Eddie. You already do."

"You deserve so much better than him, please." You opened your eyes and sat up. You pulled the straps of your dress up and over your arms. "I'm sorry, Eddie but it just wouldn't work out between us." You pulled the skirt of your dress down and zipped up the back.

You slipped your heels on as Eddie dressed. You headed toward the door but Eddie ran in front of you stopping you in your tracks. "Why wouldn't it?" You took a deep breath. Eddies hands reached up to your face, he rubbed off your smeared makeup with the pads of his thumbs.

"There's a difference between fucking and an actual relationship and I think we are just too different to be boyfriend and girlfriend." You tried to push past him but he didn't budge, "Let me prove you wrong, Just one date, at least."

"Eddie, I have a boyfriend." You told him earning a loud laugh. "Like that hasn't stopped you from doing other things." A smile snuck its way onto your face. You stood there silently. "Okay, fine." One date. Just one." You said sternly. Holding up one finger. He lightly kissed the tip of your finger.

"Unless it goes good, cause then we'd have to go on another one." Eddie smiled. You giggled, music to Eddie's ears. "Yeah, okay." You unlocked the door and walked out closing it behind you, Eddie would leave a few minutes after you did. And when he walked out he'd look like the happiest man on earth.

[pocketgalaxies]

fcg: i enjoy eating silver more than copper

imogen: i am genuinely scared to meet my mom again

chet: it is well known that wood is better than metal

laudna: deep down inside, both delilah and i kind of want the shard

laudna: i don't want [the shard], fearne should have it, but i don't know anymore what's my opinion or desires or feelings or [delilah's]

imogen: i love laudna deeply, but i'm disgusted at the thought of delilah looking at us all the time

orym: i'm super lonely all the time, especially at night. doesn't matter if i'm bunking with one of you guys

fcg: sometimes i pity some of you because you have beating hearts and opportunities and you don't do enough with them

fcg: chetney you have so much love to give and it doesn't seem like you're interested in anything, in ANYTHING, other than wood. there's people out there who you could love and experiences you could share with someone else, but all you care about is wood

orym: i've always laughed it off but i guess i do kinda wonder if chetney is my dad

ashton: i am the reason that the jiana hexum robbery went fucking wrong and the reason why i got thrown out of a fucking window

ashton: (laudna: is that why you feel like you deserved to have the nobodies leave you?) yeah.

fearne: i feel like we are very ill-equipped for this job and we're gonna fail at saving the world

chet: while wood may be the superior material to metal, i do fear that with the dwindling interest in it that children will find my toys and thereby myself obsolete every year that i grow older

fcg: i think it's something buried deep down in my circuitry, but every time i hurt or kill something, it feels really good. it makes me sorta relax a little bit and some of my stress goes away

imogen: i know we're supposed to save the gods but i've tried talking to them my whole life and none of them will ever respond. i think i'm tainted. i don't know if i want to save gods that don't love me

laudna: you know we could all ripcord out of this at any moment, and i don't mean this scavenger hunt, i mean saving the world, right? andsometimesifantasizeaboutitallthetime

fearne: sometimes i do stuff to you guys while you're sleeping. not weird stuff, i just like to look at you closely and...you know, just look at you. you look so content and comfortable and i can get up and look at you really well. and maybe twiddle your hair and like braid it. nothing bad! nothing bad!!

ashton: any time it's too quiet, i start worrying that one of us, most of us, are gonna end up killing another one of us accidentally. all of us. orym...very gently, but probably–orym may be the only one i worry about the least, but genuinely everybody else. i have panicked thinking about what happens when one of you kills another one of us

orym: (laudna: do you have any strong feelings one way or another kind of being the normal guy in a group of freaks who are all ticking time bombs? are you okay with that, do you have any strong feelings?) i have all the faith in the world in you guys, all of you. and i have also spent time thinking how to neutralize each of you

fcg: i kinda worry that i put all my eggs in the changebringer basket and she might betray us all, i had a really weird conversation with her and i think she's just out for herself and she might not really care about me

imogen: fearne, i was really disappointed in you for running away from your power, you should take the shard (laudna: you should take the shard)

orym: i really miss dorian, and sometimes i think that's okay and sometimes i think it isn't

pate: [laudna] is my creator, i don't have feelings, i'm a construction

ashton: i feel fucking worse that i just fucked up fearne's life way more than mine, and i should've died instead of that happening

chet: i grew up in the bramblewood outside of westruun, and when i was a kid, i came back from learning how to make toys and found that my whole family had left. all they left behind were toys. and they ran when errevon the rimelord was running across the plains so i'm kinda afraid of dragons. and i had five siblings, alabaster, pepper, sugarplum, hermey, and chad, and i was so mad that they left, i never looked for any of them. and now i'm pretty sure they're dead, so i think that any family i have is just gonna look for a reason to leave me, that's why i don't get attached to anybody

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."