#this sounds like i'm talking about myself in the third person and i am in a way but 😭😭😭

[vettelsvee]

SHE'S NOT HANNA | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist | season 1

history series season 2: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

summary: seb overhears di talking with her sister only for him to find out her birthday is next monday... and that he has confused feelings about the intern

word count: 3507

warnings: bad language. mention to threesomes. much disrespect towards diana from a certain driver. narrated on seb's pov. i remind you this is a fictional work and everything you read here is not real.

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe @formulaonebuff] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

feedback, as well as reblogs and comments, are truly appreciated!

2009 Bahrain Grand Prix Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir

April 25th

Saturday

Sebastian

The qualifying session in Bahrain went well, but it could have gone much better. That third place on the grid for the race the next day could have been a pole position if Rocky hadn't insisted on using the same amount of fuel we would start the race with tomorrow. Even Diana had said that with about two liters less it would have been better!

There was still some tension in the garage because our results hadn't been as expected, but I tried not to dwell on it as I watched the sun begin to set on the horizon, listening to my engineer's analysis and the deafening noises of the mechanics, whom I admired for working tirelessly on Mark's car and mine. The conversation Rocky and I were engrossed in was so fruitful that, to our surprise, we had been analyzing every single piece of data we could extract from the other drivers and, especially, discussing the improvements that could be made the next day for nearly three hours.

Di had been with us for most of the time, with a concentration that pleasantly surprised us. When her phone started ringing, the engineer's insistence that she answer the call, despite her attempts to insist it wasn't important, finally made a move a few meters away from us to take it.

I tried not to pay attention in what the blonde was talking about. After all, it was probably related to her personal life. As I studied the graphs and numbers in front of me, I couldn't help but get distracted when her soft voice, speaking in German, rose slightly:

"Yes, Ame, I understand," she tried to whisper calmly, failing miserably. Many of those present began to look at her curiously, wanting to know what my teammate's call was about. "Don't worry, okay? I'll be home on Monday night so don't get your hopes up too much... it's not like Dad is going to behave differently now that I'm away from home most of the time."

As much as I wished the latter hadn't made me want to know more about Wagner's personal life, I made every effort to focus my gaze and open my ears to the data I was being given, but it was totally impossible.

I hated myself because I couldn't forget about her, especially when all she did was raise her voice more and more, even catching Helmut's attention, who seemed to be in a bad mood.

"It's just another day," she continued, breathing in and out for relaxation. "Don't get me wrong: I know it's my birthday, but after so many years without celebrating it, I feel like it's just another day. Besides," she added, "it's good for me because I can focus on studying during the flight back home."

Listening to that made me completely stop paying attention to the conversation with Rocky, and I blatantly stared at the girl, who was still on the phone. I didn't know how to react to that, but I also couldn't find out much more about what she was saying because, as if she had realized that we were all paying attention to her, she switched to what sounded like Spanish. A perfect Spanish that not even Fernando spoke.

I might have been born to drive because it was the only thing I managed to do well, but... why did she do everything right?

"Seb, are you listening?"

"Uh... yeah."

My response was as calm as possible, but I realized I had failed miserably as the man in front of me began shaking his head, continuing to talk to me about things that had stopped mattering to me several minutes ago. My mind couldn't stop thinking about Di's birthday. Knowing that she hadn't celebrated it for a long time, for whatever reason, made me feel quite sorry, especially when I looked back at the last celebration Hanna and my mother had prepared for me at home.

Seeing that my mind was increasingly wandering, Rocky decided to let me go, but not without reminding me that I should be as calm as possible that afternoon so as not to interfere with tomorrow's results.

That's what he thought, because I certainly didn't plan to end the day in the calmest way.

Quickly, I got up from my seat and headed towards the entrance of the box from the pit lane, running. Seeing Mark standing with his mechanics, his arms slightly crossed and covered in grease up to his elbows, relaxed me a little for some reason; although, deep down, I was dying of nerves to tell him about the idea that had occurred to me and that I knew made no sense, but that I would still like to carry out.

At least someone would rid me of the birds my head had created.

"I know you don't care, but I think I have a very good idea."

"Do you know how to screw over the rest of the teams so we can at least win the constructors championship?"

Was this guy okay, or was stress making him say such nonsense?

"What? No!" I quickly replied while laughing, trying to get to the point and not beat around the bush. "Listen to me, and then you can say whatever you want, okay?" The Australian nodded, so I didn't hesitate to speak. "Monday is Di's birthday, and we're going to throw her a surprise party after the race," I affirmed, convincing myself that everything would go according to my sudden plans.

Webber looked confused, possibly because he was either surprised by my decision or completely agreed with it.

"Have you talked to anyone about this? Is Britta okay with you getting carried away? Are you sure Hanna won't mind? Does Diana know that you know her birthday in on Monday?"

His voice didn't stop for a moment, and I could even hear him getting breathless because he didn't pause for a second to catch his breath. His constant questions were making me more uneasy than I already was, so I didn't hesitate to cut him off.

"No," I began answering each of his questions. "No, and I don't care. Hanna is very understanding about the whole Diana thing, and she's the only thing that matters here; just because my girlfriend isn't the center of my life for once doesn't mean anything, Di deserves it."

"Okay..." my teammate replied, not very convinced, exerting more force in his crossed arms. "What do you need help with?"

Dam., I hadn't prepared anything because I hadn't planned to get to the point where Mark Webber actually agreed with me and wanted to help me with a crazy idea.

"Well... I thought we could do it at the hotel, right after the race," I explained as my mind projected a beautiful party with lots of balloons, a huge cake, and many gifts. "In a calm way, you know Di isn't usually into big parties," I clarified, remembering all the times she had been offered to come party with us, but she had politely declined, not limiting herself to making excuses. "I have to talk to other drivers first to see if they agree. What do you think?"

"Once we're in trouble, do things right," he replied. "Don't worry about anything now. Go talk to whoever you need to, and in the meantime, I'll call the hotel to reserve a large hall where we can all fit and you can fill it with confetti and stuff."

While my relationship with the light brown-eyed man was good, and I knew I could partly be myself when I spent time with him, I hadn't reached the point of trust to beg him for help with something. I suppose he thought the same of me, and now he would surely want to kill me for the mess I had just gotten him into; but he hid it perfectly because his smile never left his face.

"Thanks, Mark," I replied sincerely. "This means a lot to me, and I'm sure it does to Di too."

"Don't mention it, Seb. I'm happy to help you make your favorite paddock girl happy," he said, using the phrase I usually referred to the girl with, giving me a pat on the shoulder.

Immediately afterward, after several more glances and making sure the Australian didn't reveal the plan in front of the blonde, I began my journey through the paddock. Although at first I was a little worried about how reluctant people might be to my proposal, I ended up surprising myself because the vast majority of team bosses, drivers, and various members of the staff from the different teams agreed to come the next day to celebrate Di's twenty-first birthday.

Throughout all that hustle and bustle I avoided Britta, whom I ran into a couple of times. I felt guilty for not telling her what I was planning, but I was aware that she was going to give me hell as soon as she had the chance, and she was going to call me everything but nice. I knew that lately she had gotten much closer to the Austrian, and they had made some plans together, but there were still certain topics that my public relations and I were still avoiding, and that at the least opportune moment were going to come up.

Lewis and Fernando were the most excited to hear the proposal, even encouraging me to keep spreading the news. Others, like Rosberg, almost made me lose my nerves.

"We have to do something that surprises her! Man, it's Di's birthday, and if you say she hasn't celebrated it in forever, we have to make it even more unforgettable!"

Nico was so excited that it seemed like the celebration was for him. He kept raising his arms and that, along with the fact that he didn't stop using the nickname I had given to the girl, just made me angrier and angrier.

I was overreacting, and I couldn't deny that I was getting jealous because of the close relationship he seemed to have with the blonde. The affection with which he spoke about her was by no means similar to the one I had for, for example, Karina.

"Can you calm down for once?" I whispered angrily as I tried to calm his gestures. "You're not five years old and someone just gave you a Tamagotchi, damn it."

"Are you sure you're doing the right thing, Vettel?"

I felt Nico's penetrating gaze analyzing my expression, which was probably a mess. His words, totally contrary to what I thought he was going to say, were loaded with insinuation and provocation, and he knew it perfectly; I was smarter than him, and I wasn't going to play his game.

Before answering him, I clenched my teeth and forced myself to take a deep breath as I slowly counted to ten, trying to keep my calm as best as I could despite the growing anger that was quickly building up inside me.

"What are you talking about, Nico?" I asked, using the same tactic he was using and fixing my eyes on his.

I didn't understand why he was asking that, especially when he had no idea about my personal life, except that Prater was my girlfriend, of course. Everyone knew that except Diana, and I hoped it would stay that way until I found the right moment to tell her, or until they met each other.

"This whole surprise party for Diana," he continued, not abandoning the provocative tone that was bothering me so much. "Are you sure you're doing the right thing?" he repeated threateningly.

What right did this guy have to question what I was doing or not doing with my personal life? If Roeske barely controlled anything about me, even though that was his job, this jerk wasn't going to do it.

"It's none of your business, Rosberg," I replied flippantly.

My compatriot smiled as if he had gotten what he wanted: to anger me and make me snap.

"I don't know. I just wonder what Hanna would think if she found out about all this. Do you think she would be happy to see you bending over backward to have a stranger kneeled in front of you?"

The mention of my girlfriend made something stir in my stomach.

He knew perfectly well how I was feeling at that moment, and as much as my angry gaze was begging him to stop, he didn't seem willing to. 

"And what do you think Diana would say if your girlfriend showed up unexpectedly at her birthday party? They would finally know about each other's existence, and it would be a perfect gift for your little pet!"

The blond's provocations were starting to go too far. I could feel my jaw tensing and my fists clenching. I was trying to keep my composure, God or whatever exists knew it well, but I couldn't take it anymore. Not anymore.

"Don't you dare talk about Di like that, Nico. You're crossing the line."

"I think I know what surprise you're preparing for Wagner after the party: a threesome with her and Hanna," he continued. "Well, that would be more to make you happy than them."

That comment was the last straw. I wasn't going to allow him to speak badly of either of the two girls, but I wasn't going to say anything at the moment because I knew that the punch I could receive in the face from Rosberg would cause me more problems than, if I was honest with myself, I didn't give a damn about.

Therefore, without saying another word, I turned around and headed towards the parking lot at the same time I heard the comments from the Williams driver calling me a coward, unfaithful, idiot, and a bunch of insults that I tried not to care about but definitely were affecting me more than I wanted them to. I realized this when I reached my car and kicked one of the bins next to it so hard that it was hard for me to walk the few meters that separated it from the driver's door.

On my way to the mall, doubts began to torment me. It was the first time I gave myself the opportunity to think about myself and what it seemed I was experiencing.

Was I being a good boyfriend to Hanna, or was I just behaving like a jerk who sometimes thought of another girl when he saw her? Was that fair to Di, or was it totally normal given the admiration I had for the Austrian?

As I made my way through the streets of Bahrain, what I was most afraid to ask myself was what had begun to flood my mind in a worrying way: did I truly love Hanna, or our relationship had become a habit that I couldn't break out due to the fear of the unknown?

I tried not to think too much about it because she didn't deserve it, but I couldn't avoid it anymore. Since Diana had come into my life in a closer way, I had been avoiding my feelings, and now, now that I finally seemed to recognize that something was wrong with myself, the mental block began to make itself present, along with the tears streaming down my cheeks as I drove in silence except for the constant echo in my head of Nico Rosberg's insults, which hadn't stopped since I lost sight of him.

When I arrived at the mall and parked the car clumsily, in a position that didn't even correspond to the white lines drawn on the asphalt, I took out my cell phone and saw that, in addition to a call from my partner, along with several text messages from her, there were a multitude of voicemail messages from Britta, possibly from missed calls. That only made me feel worse: the woman had only tried to communicate with me for, surely, something important.

I called her, and she didn't take long to answer. Her voice sounded really worried, but I didn't give her the opportunity to talk much because I felt the need to unload everything that had been inside me for so long:

"Britta... I need to talk to you because you are my mother when I don't have mine by my side," I murmured, my voice breaking because I couldn't contain my emotion. "I have so many doubts in my head, and I don't know what to do anymore."

"Of course, I'm here to listen to you. What's wrong? I saw you today in the paddock very excited preparing the party that I found out you're going to throw for Diana tomorrow."

I sighed, defeated and, why not say it, excited by her calm, calm voice, and by her last sentence. My words flowed in such a way that it seemed like I had been preparing them for days, and I ended up revealing more things than I had planned to do at first, including my biggest doubt. She listened attentively, nodding with small articulations as I shared my concerns.

"If I'm in a relationship, and I wanted to punch Diana's father when I found out they didn't celebrate her birthday, it's for a reason, right?"

"Is that what's bothering you?" the blonde wanted to know. "Do you think I didn't already know?"

I tensed up at what I suspected. Sometimes I was worried about how much Britta knew me.

"I know you've been thinking a lot about her, Seb," she revealed, "just as I know that's exactly what's been going through your head for longer than you'd like."

Yes, since the Saturday before the race in Monza, when I accidentally fell asleep in Di's bed.

"I don't know if I'm doing the right thing," I finally confessed. "I don't know if this is fair to Hanna."

"Before you're honest with her, you have to be honest with yourself. You can't pretend to have feelings you don't have, and if that's what's making you doubt, you need to clear your mind, slowly, but surely."

She was right, but saying it was easier than doing it. Nor could I afford to think about my love life in the middle of a Formula 1 season that, let's face it, was going pretty well for me.

"Di is different, and I won't deny that I'm attracted to her," I continued to explain, praying that she wouldn't judge my feelings, "but it's in a totally different way than Hanna."

"How so different?" Roeske asked curiously. "Different in what way, Seb?"

"In every way," I replied with determination. "It's as if at the same time they're the same, but at the same time, so different... She's not Hanna, Britta."

A muffled scream on the other end of the phone made me tense up in my seat. At the same time, I began to hear more noise, but I didn't decide to steer the conversation to find out where Britta was so that such a noise could be heard.

"I mean, Di is unique," I continued, trying to explain myself a little better, "and I can't compare her to anyone else. It's going to sound very selfish, but..."

"Say it," the woman demanded.

"I want to find out if what I feel for her is real.”

If even I was impressed by what I had just said, surely the woman on the other end of the call was too.

"Sebastian Vettel," if Britta Roeske said my full name, it wasn't a good sign, "I need you to listen to this carefully," indeed, she was right. "Sometimes, in life, we have to take risks to find out what we want and, moreover, what’s actually made for us."

"What do you mean?"

"That you should be honest and, especially, be careful with your feelings and those of the people you love, or say you love," she added. "If you think what you feel for Diana is more than just a whim, you really love her, and you think that the right thing to do is to fight for her, do it without fear."

If only the answer were easier than a simple yes or a simple no…

I hadn't even hung up on Roeske and I was already in a whirlwind of emotions, fighting with myself about my feelings. There was no doubt that, as much as Britta's words kept swirling in my mind, there was no better advice than one's own.

I didn't want to hurt anyone, and I was afraid of losing people who had become a fundamental pillar in my life over a simple slip-up that would eventually turn into a mistake.

Perhaps, for the sake of the mental health of more than one person, it was best to ignore how much, more and more, I cared about Diana Wagner, and settle for the love I believed was meant for me.

[maddy-ferguson]

coming out as a play disliker because why the heck are they even doing this play and with the 'its gonna be key for s5' bullshit. most of the audience ain't gonna be able to see this shit and why should we have to watch a play to get an idea abt what might happen in s5. it's just so cash grabby it is not even funny.

i'm not a play disliker i'll only be a play disliker if it turns out to be bad and there's no reason for it to be bad but it does annoy me because if it's key for s5 it's gonna be on netflix right? because it's not like everyone's gonna go to london to see the stranger things play. but like. it's a play. made for the stage. and i know filmed plays can be nice like when they put hamilton on disney + and everyone was like wow this filmed play is so nice...but it's still a play so it just won't be the same. and the you have to watch this to understand this thing generally annoys me like this is not the mcu...and i know it's just one play but it's the principle. i hate being forced to watch things that are not my show to understand my show they had deluca be stabbed in a station 19 episode and die in a grey's episode and i still didn't watch station 19 because they've been trying to force everyone to watch it for years with the crossovers (i know what i'm describing is just a spin-off. but the way they do it is just so out of pocket) and it annoys me SO MUCH if it's important information i shouldn't have to watch something else to get the info!!! and i know it's just one play and it's in the past anyway i just wanted to give an example of how much i dislike having to watch something else. it annoys me. both the having to watch something other than my show to understand my show and the fact that it's a play so watching it on netflix is just not gonna be the same.

[tgcg]

bad mouther, hole master

TG: kissing with tongue is gross as hell

CG: COME THE FUCK OFF IT.

TG: what

CG: I'M SAYING SHUT UP.

TG: oh

CG: IT'S NOT THAT WEIRD. IT'S LIKE THE NATURAL PROGRESSION OF REGULAR KISSING TO EVENTUALLY INCLUDE THAT. IF YOU HAD ANY SEMBLANCE OF ROMANCE GHOSTING THROUGH THE DEVOLVING REMNANTS OF YOUR THINKPAN YOU'D APPRECIATE WHAT IT BRINGS TO THE NUTRITION PLATFORM OF ANY CONSENTING CONCUPISCENT RELATIONSHIP!

TG: youre talking about it like its a goddamn military weapon or some shit

TG: some kinda scientific fuckin method to fondle a dudes mouth with your own mouth thats

TG: thats gross

TG: this isnt supposed to be a debate before fuckin congress on the pros and cons of getting your mack on

TG: its i would say a reasonably personal thing to react about and thats just my reaction man you dont gotta arbitrate it

TG: and like why the hell do they have to linger on it so long in these movies do they really want me to immerse myself in people necking each other that much

TG: roll the sounds around in my earholes like im swilling a fine fuckin wine

TG: well my professional opinion is that shit tastes and sounds mad gross and tbh i havent seen a single movie where it was close to being any kind of necessary

TG: its just a cringy waste of everyones time

CG: YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, AND I DISAGREE WITH EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR IGNORANCE GASH, YOU LUMP OF TIGHT-LIPPED CLUELESSNESS.

TG: did you just homestar me

CG: FOR THE SAKE OF ARGUMENT, SINCE YOU'RE APPARENTLY DESPERATE TO START SHIT WITH ME RIGHT NOW: HAVE YOU EVER EVEN DONE IT?

TG: hell no

CG: THANK YOU FOR PROVING MY POINT.

TG: proving your point--

TG: bro have uh

TG: have YOU???

CG: EXCUSE ME? HAVE I WHAT?

TG: come on

TG: i walked into this stupid conversation with a fucking shovel and by god am i digging myself a damn hole big and wide enough for every dave across time to squeeze in so i might as well get cosy in this shit before we all start collectively shoving dirt in our mouths

TG: bet your ass im taking you down with me though

TG: grab your spade and get digging man

CG: GRAB MY WHAT????????

TG: just tell me

CG: ???????!!!!!!!!

TG: karkat

CG: NO!

TG: f-

CG: WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!!! WHAT PART OF "SHUT UP" DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND????

TG: wait no

TG: oh my god dude

TG: you can spin that shit all you want but you can do it the hell away from me

TG: i do not need to be hip to your weirdo foursquare fantasies

TG: patently not my business

CG: STOP RIGHT THERE. JUST SHUT IT. I AM PUTTING US OUT OF OUR MISERY RIGHT NOW. I AM CONDUCTING AN ACT OF MERCY ON THIS INSANE FUCKING CONVERSATION AND YOU ARE GOING TO ZIP YOUR LIPS AND TAKE IT.

CG: HERE IT IS: YOUR SINGLE OPPORTUNITY TO PRETEND YOU NEVER SAID THAT TO ME. I AM GOING TO FORGET YOU MADE A COMPLETE MOCKERY OF ME AND MY CULTURE THIS ONE TIME. AND LET YOU CONTINUE TO DIG YOUR STUPID, SHITTY HOLE.

CG: AND DAVE, I AM BEGGING YOU NOT TO WASTE IT.

CG: TO ANSWER YOUR SHOCKINGLY INAPPROPRIATE QUESTION, NO I HAVE NOT DONE IT.

CG: WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK.

CG: HAPPY?

TG: ……..

TG: way to defuse the situation solid work

TG: real gold star effort grabbin that lit wick and blowing on it

TG: ok first of all you asked me first so dont act like im the one being a weirdo about this

TG: second of all i didnt mean it like that and you know it

TG: THIRD of all what the hell was the point of engaging the knightly theatrics then if you cant even verify that shit

CG: WELL FUCK, SORRY DAVE! I GUESS I'M JUST A FUCKING ROMANCE ENTHUSIAST! I GUESS I GIVE A MAJOR SHIT ABOUT THE THING YOU'RE OPENLY MOCKING TO MY FACE! IS THAT SO IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO WRAP YOUR THOUGHT SPONGE AROUND?

CG: AND IT WAS COMPLETELY REASONABLE FOR ME TO ASK YOU THAT, YOU CONGEALED FETID NOOKSTAIN! MY STATUS ON THE MATTER HAS LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE POINT EITHER OF US IS TRYING TO MAKE.

CG: TRY TO KEEP YOUR NUGBONE FROM CAVING IN ON ITSELF WHEN I DROP THIS BOMBSHELL: I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE OPINIONS ON THINGS I ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT, EVEN IF I HAVEN'T DONE THEM! I DON'T JUST GO TROUNCING THE FUCK ABOUT LOBBING MY UNFOUNDED OPINIONS AT PEOPLE LIKE I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING. UNLIKE SOMEONE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INVOLVED IN THIS CONVERSATION WE'RE HAVING RIGHT NOW!

TG: youre

CG: I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU BY THE WAY. THE SOMEONE IS YOU.

TG: oh gimme a break

TG: bro youre going apeshit over something you havent even done

TG: you know what that sounds like to me it sounds like an overcompensating fake fan who doesnt get any

TG: you heard of troll napoleon complex

CG: AT LEAST I ACTUALLY FORMED MY OPINION BASED ON CAREFUL CONSIDERATION --

TG: -- oh yeah i bet huh

CG: -- INSTEAD OF JUST BANKING ON NUBJERK --

TG: -- not a real thing you just said

CG: -- REACTIONS AND WRINKLING MY SNIFF NUB AT ANY SIGNS OF GENUINE PHYSICAL INTIMACY!

TG: stop saying nub

CG: YOU EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED BULGEWAD

TG: not too much worse than being a perpetual fountain of emotional diarrhea

CG: DON'T YOU DARE.

CG: DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO USE THAT AS A "GOTCHA", YOU--… YOU! FUCK!

TG: dude did you actually run out of insults

TG: okay this is getting concerning

TG: youre the international dude of verbal dunks

TG: that can not be happening

CG: AAGHRJRGHJRGRHJAGHRJGRHJAGRHJRGRHJRGRHRJR

TG: you cant run out of em youre like the ultimate peddler of hate

CG: YOU DON'T THINK I'M CRITICALLY AWARE OF THE HOOFBEASTSHIT I'M SPEWING NIGH FUCKING CONSTANTLY?! I AM PAINFULLY COGNIZANT OF HOW MORONIC EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS!!!!

TG: feel like ive done some damage here

CG: ESPECIALLY MYSELF!

TG: alright bud time to calm down

CG: YOU CALM DOWN!!!!

TG: okay whatever!

CG: WHATEVER!!!!!!!!

TG: jeez

…

TG: here

…

CG: UGH.

TG: yeah

TG: really glad stuff like this happens in private

CG: YEAH. SAME HERE.

CG: JEGUS, CAN WE GO BACK TO BEFORE WE HAD THIS CONVERSATION? I DON'T ASK YOU MANY FAVORS, SO SURELY YOUR SLURRY OF ILL-DEFINED TIME POWERS CAN ALLOW YOU TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

CG: JUST LIKE, WIPE THAT WHOLE THING OFF THE SLATE.

CG: LET'S START OVER. SAY, FIVE MINUTES AGO. HOW DOES THAT SOUND?

TG: what conversation?

CG: OKAY, GOTCHA.

[emperorundying]

💀The Locked Tomb Dashboard Simulator Part 4💀

🤐 necromancer-confessions

Anonymous asked:

i'm a third house non magic user and i've started hanging out with more necros lately and... i think i didnt realize how much of hanging out consisted of talking about the eroticism of the flesh !! and i dont want to judge them but u hear the words 'viscera' 'adipose' and 'sounding' in the same sentence one too many times and u kinda wonder why yr there as someone who cannot manipulate nerves :( ig im just feeling kind of left out

#anon this is totally regular for necros esp 3rd housers #if they dont understand that you feel left out, maybe have one use their necromancy on you? #there are many ways to assemble a skeleton

(112 notes)

💉 se7en Follow

bc these have been going around :3

( 1,829 notes )

💀 6ske-le-un9 Follow

#SOOOO SICK OF SPIRIT MAGICIANS IN MY INBOX ACTING LIKE THEY KNOW BONES BETTER THAN ME #get boned bitch grrrrrr

(1,002 notes)

♱ midnighthagette Follow

this edible aint shit

♱ midnighthagette Follow

why is the seventh saint to serve the emperor undying under my bed.

💎 saintofawe ☑️

Again with the insaneposting? How unfortunate, Harry, I thought we were past this.

(21,871 notes)

🐱 cohortcatgirl Follow

V important thread!!!

Idc how much anon hate i get 4 this, we need 2 be able to appreciate the loving hand that guidez us💗

#sick 2 my stomach seeing all of these posts against the necrolord prime without knowing the context of the beautiful things he's done for us :((((((( #mr undying i am yr biggest fan u deserve better than this....

(2,023 notes)

👤 foundations-of-decay-deactivated-8172202

if one more person unprompted asks me for blood pics again i swear to the bones above i will stab myself or smth

🩸 ab-justmytype-o Follow

stabbing pics queen?

(9,308 notes)

[smallestgalaxylemon]

Omniscient reader's viewpoint? More like... um... [please insert your own funny caption]

[More]

ID by the wonderful @princess-of-purple-prose under the cut

[ID: A collection of text posts (all but the last from Tumblr, and the last one from Mastadon) with characters from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint edited over.

(Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja) First base is beating the shit out of each other second base is having a civil conversation (Han Sooyoung) Third base is dying for each other fourth base is marriage

(Han Sooyoung, Kik Dokja, and Yop Joonghyuk) theyre madly in love they want each other dead theyre trapped together in an endless cycle theyre divorced theyve been married for 25 years they know nothing about each other theyre each the only one who truly understands the other. i didnt say their name but they popped into your head didnt they

(Han Sooyoung, Kim Dokja, and Yoo Joonghyuk) no one ever talks about the 6th love language (being annoying)

(Sword saint, who isn't in the image, about Kyrgios) ah, an opponent arrives… [draws my sword and turns around] hm. your footsteps made you sound taller… [sheathes my sword and draws a second, smaller sword]

(Kim Dokja) i do love stories that start out with the protagonist going "hi! 👋😃 i am such a normal guy. the most average person ever. 😄 an average joe even. i have no friends or enemies. i spend my time reading books and sing to myself on occasions. nothing to see here! ^^" and it turns out that not only are they a liar but also the most fucked up person ever. and a cunt

(Han Sooyoung) apparently this morning my wife heard me make a noise in my sleep and she asked me if i was okay and i just responded with "yeah, i'm just pissed off" and promptly fell asleep again. like I was dead asleep and Just tucking hating still i guess. the grind never stop

(Kim Dokja with Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung) ordered a bunch of sardines in bulk and my kids found them and have started saying to each other "i swear it on father's sardines" and i dunno it just doesnt feel like i'm coming back from this one. End ID]

[anjaelle]

hii, can you write a dave lisewski x reader where reader is new at school and he volunteers to give her a tour of the school. Dave thinks she is really pretty and wants to be her friend, he asks questions about her and finds out that she likes comics and superhero’s just like he does and he asks her to come to his house after school to watch a new marvel movie that just came out. she says yes and they watch the movie at his house. during the movie dave just can’t keep his eyes off of her and he’s so in love with her even though he just met her.The movie ends and he walks her home because it’s getting late and he doesn’t want her to possibly get into some kind of danger. when they make it to her house( he finds out that they live close to one another) she thanks him for being so kind to her and kisses him on the cheek. he blushes and wishes her a goodnight. from then on they become great friends and maybe even more. (SORRY THIS IS SO LONG, js wanted it to be detailed so it’s easier for you!!🤭)

@baddestdu0y3t

Pairing: Dave Lizewski x New Girl!Reader

Warnings: None. Except general teen awkwardness?

a/n: Ok so I'll be honest and say that I haven't written for highschool characters since I was a highschooler myself about 10-11 years ago. So I'm admittedly a bit rusty. I probably won't make this a regular thing, because I don't really think I'm good at it haha. And I changed some things around and cut some things out for brevity, but kept the important bits. It kind of feels like a coming-of-age romcom.

(gif source)

--x--

Dave would happily get stabbed and hit by a car twenty more times if it meant he wouldn't have to deal with the current situation he was in. He'd dripped oil from his bacon egg and cheese in his lap, and tried to clean the stain with soap and water, which created an almost bigger stain. The hand dryer in the mens room wasn't working, there were no paper towels, and he was running late to homeroom. Todd gave him a sympathetic pat on the back and offered the ever-helpful comment, "Don't freak. It'll dry eventually."

But it'd been a half hour, and it hadn't dried completely. A few people passed him with looks of disgust.

This day was already turning out to be shit, and it was only 9 AM. He shoved his head in his locker, wishing that a sinkhole would form in the middle of the school and swallow him whole. As the hallway cleared, he noticed you looking down at at a paper and distractedly walking in one direction before turning a corner and disappearing. You then turned back around and walked past him again in the other direction, with a furrowed brow and a pouting lower lip. When you turned to pass him a third time, he closed his locker and awkwardly leaned up against it.

"Hey! Are you lost?" He nearly shouted at you. You stopped short, startled out of whatever daze you were in, and looked at him as if you didn't even notice there was another person in the hall until now. Any plans he had to have a normal conversation left him immediately. He cut his eyes away from you. It was like staring into the sun.

"Hi." You re-adjusted your bag on your shoulder, "And yeah. This school is way bigger than my old one and I'm kinda turned around."

"Oh, yeah, totally, for sure. It's--yeah, it's big." He said awkwardly pulling at the straps of his backpack, "I mean, the school is big. The halls are big. It's a maze. Even I still get lost sometimes, and I've been here almost 4 years."

God, Dave, shut the fuck up.

You giggled at him and he felt his cheeks warm at the sound of it.

"Um, can you help me?" You asked, quirking your head to get a better look at him.

"Sure. Yeah, I can walk you to your next class."

You smiled at him and he smiled back, revealing the cutest dimples you'd ever seen.

"What about your class?"

He peeked at your schedule and his brows disappeared under the curls on his forehead, "We have the same homeroom. So we'll be going the same way."

He was very different from the boys you talked to at your previous school. You thought of what your old friends would say about him. You weren't super popular or anything, but you navigated most social spaces with relative ease. It also meant hiding a lot of yourself. Dave had a kind face and warm eyes that studied you with a sense of eager curiosity that flattered you. Incidentally, you were curious about him too.

When you introduced yourself to him and shook his hand, you noticed immediately how strong his grip was and his calloused palms. Most guys you knew with hands like those played contact sports. He didn't seem like the type, at first glance. He seemed to notice your surprise but didn't quite understand the reason behind it.

"Sorry if my hands are sweaty," he said, instinctively wiping them on his pants.

You rushed to ease his fears, "No they weren't! You're fine." And then, "Do you play sports?"

"Nope. I mean...sometimes I play Wii Tennis. I don't know if that counts though."

You giggled again, "I think that counts."

Interesting. Maybe he did woodworking or mechanic stuff like your dad. You made a mental note for later.

You both strolled down the hall in no real rush to make it to your destination as you talked. He was incredibly animated and spoke with his hands when he got into the groove of the conversation. And when you talked about your old school or your family, he actively listened and asked even more questions.

"You're really cool," he finally said, breathlessly. If you could visibly blush, you're sure you would've. You've been called a lot of things, but never "cool" with such earnestness. "I just wish I'd met you when I didn't have bacon stains on my pants."

He looked down at himself again and grimaced at his own misfortune. You could almost laugh at how resigned he was. Like this was just an everyday thing he had to deal with.

"You could just do what the girls do when we have stains on our pants," you suggested. He quirked a questioning brow and you motioned with your hands. "Tie your hoodie around your waist. It'll hide the stain pretty well, I think."

His eyes widened like you'd revealed the secrets of the universe to him, "I...didn't even think of that."

He immediately took his backpack off and dropped it to the ground to unzip his hoodie. When you noticed his tee shirt, you heard an eager gasp slip from you before you could really stop it. His shirt had the different sketched out iterations of Batman's costume designs over the years, which included a mix of his comic and movie suits.

"I just really like your shirt." You explained as he tied his sweater around his waist. "I was raised in a DC household. My dad has a big box of old school batman comics in our basement that I used to poke through when I was a kid."

His face lit up at your confession, "You like comic books?"

"I used to. I mostly just watch the movies now. The good ones, anyway." You said, shrugging. In truth, you hadn't picked a comic up since middle school. You missed reading them sometimes, but you never really had anyone to talk about them with. So you just stopped. You explained as much to him and he hummed in thought.

"Well, you can always talk about them with me. Do you like Marvel, too?"

You scrunched your nose up at him and he gasped.

"I'm sorry," you couldn't help but laugh at his dismayed expression, "I just think most Marvel movies are corny. And the comics can be a little soap opera-y to me. Maybe I'll give the comics another try, but I don't think I've seen any recent movies other than Black Panther and Thor Ragnarok."

When he thought about it, he couldn't really blame you for feeling that way, "If you had to choose, would you say that those were your favorites?"

"Nope," you admitted, "My favorite is Captain America: The Winter Soldier."

"And not Civil War? That one's my favorite."

You shook your head as you both approached the door to your homeroom, "I may have only seen it in parts. I don't really remember it."

He bounced on the balls of his feet nervously and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well if you wanted...we could watch it at my house next Saturday. Only if you want. My dad and my friend Todd will be there, so it won't be just us. But they won't be weird either. At least, I don't think so."

You smiled at him as he babbled on, only reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "Let me ask my mom. She might ask for your dad's number, if that's okay?"

A small smile graced his pretty face.

He nodded, "Totally."

Todd wasn't super happy with the idea of you joining their movie night. But Dave watched him warm up to you until you were both practically friends, too. He felt a twinge of jealousy at how quickly you two got along, but he summed that up to just how friendly and easy to talk to you were. He knew the movie front to back, so he couldn't help but watch you study the movie with deep interest to see how you reacted to his favorite parts. When all was said and done, the three of you sat in the living room discussing Civil War and if you were Team Cap or Team Stark. You all seemed to be in agreement that Tony was a war criminal who indoctrinated child soldiers. But you all were in disagreement about whether Tony deserved to have his ass kicked by two super soldiers.

"He literally didn't even know that he did anything wrong!" You argued to Todd, who rolled his eyes.

"You're only saying that about Bucky because you think he's hot."

"Maybe so," you admitted, "but my point still stands. He was brainwashed, he wasn't responsible."

"So you wouldn't be upset if I killed your parents, and Dave knew but hid it from you, and then beat you up when you found out?" The blond asked, popping a pretzel in his mouth, "I dunno. I'd be pretty upset."

"That's different, Dave would tell me." You responded with a coy wink at your new best friend.

Todd groaned, "You think he'd throw me under the bus for you?"

"I mean--" Dave cut in, pushing himself from the couch to stand to his feet and stretch, "--she is really pretty. And she smells nice. You're not as pretty and you just smell like Axe."

Todd gasped in mock hurt and you motioned to yourself as if to say "look at the material."

When 9:00 hit, you said goodbye to Dave's father who invited you and your family back for dinner, and hugged Todd goodbye.

"You're still wrong about Tony." He mumbled.

"You're in denial."

"You're In denial."

When you broke away to hug Dave he hesitated, "I was going to walk you home if that's okay with you. No pressure. I just...Uber is expensive on Saturday nights, and I know you don't live too far. But I don't want you to feel unsafe."

You noticed Todd shoot an odd glance at Dave before schooling his features. You made another mental note, but nodded.

"Sure, thanks."

You still weren't used to how long city blocks were. So even though you lived only a few blocks away, it felt like so much longer. Despite everything, you were surprised by how quiet this section of Manhattan was at night. Some people milled about, either going to or coming from someplace else. The air was brisk enough to add a jolt of energy to your system, but it still wasn't so cold that you felt any rush to get home.

"So what's up with the callouses?" You suddenly asked. Dave seemed confused by the question, so you grabbed his hand and held it up to him, then turned his hands over to show his reddened knuckles.

"Oh. I-I'm a...boxer. I box." He stammered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Only my dad and Todd don't know. So don't, like, bring it up around them. They'd freak out."

You hummed, "Okay."

He let out a sigh of relief. A sharp gust of wind from a passing wind tunnel chilled you to the bone, and you looped your arm through his.

"Oh!" You said, surprised.

"Are you cold?" He leaned in closer to you, "We can walk faster if you want."

"I just..my hands are a bit cold." That didn't explain the way you were wrapped around his arm like a boa constrictor. But he didn't seem to mind. He shifted his hand in his sweater pocket.

"There's some room."

You felt your stomach flutter when his hand brushed against yours in his sweater pocket. The flutter turned into a rapid thud when his fingers laced through yours. Despite how ice cold your hands were, he didn't pull away.

"Is that okay?" He asked, shyly, fully prepared to move his hand if you objected. You gave his fingers a small squeeze.

"It's great, actually."

You carried on the casual conversation for another few blocks before stopping at a newly renovated brownstone. He realized then that your family definitely had more money than his.

"Here we are."

You slipped your hand out of his grasp when you realized you still had it in his pocket.

"So...I'll see you monday?" He asked, fidgeting with a loose piece of string on his sleeve.

"Of course."

"Awesome."

"Yeah."

You looked him over one last time before you parted ways. He was your first real friend since you moved, but you still felt like there was so much about him that you didn't know. Not because he was particularly secretive, but because you felt like there was more to him than he let on. You unconsciously reached up and moved a curl away from his eyes. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, in response.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing," you said, "I just think you're really cool, Dave Lizewski."

His smile bloomed into a wide grin, exposing the deep dimples in his cheeks. "You're cool, too. Probably the coolest person I know, actually."

Your heart was thudding in your ears when you leaned up to press a gentle, lingering kiss to his cheek. Before you pulled away, you heard him gasp softly in surprise.

You suddenly felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and checked to see that it was your mom asking where you were.

You usually let your mom know ahead of time when you were on your way home, but you felt uncharacteristically out of sorts. You shot her a quick text letting her know you were outside.

"I hate to do this," you said, finally breaking him out of his stupor, "I really have to go now. Mom's asking questions. Text me when you get home, okay, Curly?"

You gently touched his arm and climbed the steps of your house to the front door. He gave you a weak thumbs up, but he still stared at you with a shocked, flushed face. "G-gotcha."

"And don't forget."

"I won't. I promise."

When you finally shut the door behind you, you peeked out of the small eyehole to watch as he touched his face in surprise and walked down the street in the wrong direction.

[bunnie-online]

just ask. {A.S.}

juuuuust thinking about (modern!)anakin being your boy bsf (and roommate) catching you coming home from a verrrry disappointing dick appointment

part two

warnings: MINORS DNI 18+, suggestive, possibly ooc ani, fem reader

it was 1 am, you fully expected Anakin to be asleep, doing this 'walk of shame' in front of him would be exactly that... shameful. you has just had one of the WORST hookups of your life with some dude you met off tinder a couple of days ago, he was alllll talk. the definition of 'sounds to good to be true'

he didn't know ANYTHING about the female anatomy, like seriously, he basically dry humped you and rolled over. lame.

you unlocked the door of your shared apartment, opening and closing the door as quietly as possible, as not to wake Anakin. to your surprise he came walking into the living room with a mug in his hand. he was in his usual pajamas, blue and black plaid sweatpants and topless. you tried not to stare but your gazes always seem to linger when it comes to Anakin. "Hey! Thought you'd be home tomorrow?" he tilted his head in that adorably innocent way he always does. his mannerisms never matched his face, or body for that matter.

"Ah noo" you chuckle and cast your gaze downward. "Oh? Your date didn't go well?" he asked again this time raising his eyebrows with the word 'date'. he might look and sometimes act innocent but Anakin was far from it, he knew what your intentions were for the night. "Ugh, not at all." you roll your eyes and set your bag down by the door. "This dude was soooo lame." you whine.

"Aw, poor thing" Anakin says in a joking tone. "C'mere, I made some tea" he offers. "Since when do you drink tea?" you laugh "I like to pamper myself from time to time!" he said feigning offense, clasping his hand over his heart in a classically Anakin fashion.

"Tell me what happened." he sits in the bar stool at the kitchen island after handing you a cup of tea. "Ani, I don't know, it's embarrassing." your face turns pink. "Please I know about the thing you did in middle school. I think I can handle this" he laugh at you cringing from that horrid memory from your pre-teen years. "Oh you know you can't bring that up all willy-nilly Anakin!" you swat at him. his beautiful laughter filled the air

"Okay so I was going to hook up with this guy-" you start. "Shocker." Anakin smirks, interrupting you "one, rude. two, shut up. three, anyyywayys, I was going to go hook up with him and it sounded sooo promising because, damn can he talk himself up. He was so good with his words! And we get down to it and dude lasts like, two minuets! Anakin, I wish I was joking.." you bury your head in your hands out of frustration (mostly sexual). "That's the third guy this month! Like can men just be honest if they're mediocre at sex?!"

Anakin chuckles. "Blows my mind that there are guys out there who're putting up false advertisements for dick." you toss your head back and laugh "false advertisements is CRAZY" you laugh harder and Anakin joins you. "Did I lie?!" he jokes again, earning another laugh from you. "You got a point" you agree with him.

"Seriously though, that's a shame. I'd never lie like that." he takes another sip of his tea. Your mind starts swirling with questions. 'what does he mean by that?' 'I wonder what he's like in bed?' 'he has to be huge, right?' "Like honestly that's so fucked up." his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. "This sounds personal for you, what're you doing? Handing out trash dick or what?" you laugh. he chuckles again. "Hah, no. But if I was, I'd at least be honest about it."

your eyes widen but you regain composure quickly. "Oh? And what makes you so confident?" you smirk at him, wanting a rise out of him. "Well, I'm sure some of the girls weren't crying because I was dishing out bad dick." he smirks. "Wow you sure are cocky." you say with fake confidence hoping he wouldn't double down. your hopes were crushed when he stood up. he made his way behind you, placing both of his arms around you, resting his hands on the counter trapping you. he leaned close to your ear. "You know, you don't have to act out for me to prove it to you. You can just ask." his voice completely changed. you have never heard Anakin speak in such a low, sultry tone. you noticeably shivered.

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

i highhhh key wanna finish this tomorrow bc it's midnight and i'm SLEEPY

~bunnie

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for requesting my boyfriend to be more affectionate with me?

(🪴 for identification)

I'll try to keep this as brief as I possibly can. I (25F) have been living with my partner of 5 years (26M) for around 1 entire year. We share the rent of the apartment and prices of anything else the house needs, but otherwise we buy whatever we need ourselves.

I am in my second year of college while he's on his third. Our relationship never had many issues as we always were good at communicating and never tried to let issues get to us, but in recent months things have been getting harder for me to deal with.

Our rule was to usually keep saturdays free from work and studying to spend time with each other. This might sound dumb to some people, but judging as we both have to study and work during week days and I am a sensitive person I always found it necessary to have a day we can just stay with one another. He knows the importance of this for me as he was there with me during my bpd diagnosis and is also fully aware of how badly one of my exes fucked me up, so for all those past years in our relationship he was always loving and attentive to me, something which me and any of my friends can attest to.

However, in recent weeks (I'd say since around the middle of january?) he's been clearly avoiding me. I've tried to talk to him about whatever may be happening and he just said he's been focusing on studying for uni which is fully understandable and good! However, last week I asked him if we could spend this saturday (feb 24) together since I've been heavily missing him and he's possibly aware of that as he's mentioned my current behavior is off from my usual. (I almost told him he's the same, but I held off)

To my request, he replied he can't since he already promised a mutual friend of ours he'd be going to help him with something, to which I asked if I could join them! Again, it's a mutual friend so I didn't feel anything was wrong with that, but apparently I was intruding into his life and should let him have some time for himself.

Here is where I might be the asshole. After him acting cold to me for weeks and using the excuse that "he was busy, of course he can't be all warm and kind to me when he's stressed" (which mentally I called bullshit as I was doing the same things as him plus volunteering at the nearby school to help the kids and still kept trying to be affectionate), I snapped and said that if I'm his girlfriend, he should at least give me some affection and love (in a slightly louder tone of voice). I know anger issues have been a constant ever since before my diagnosis, but I've been keeping them somewhat under control since I began therapy, so I didn't break anything or hurt either of us, but I know my anger always scared him. He got defensive and said he loves me but is just busy and can't act affectionately towards me when he's constantly stressed, to which I replied that well, so am I but it didn't stop me from continuing to put effort into our relationship. After getting the cold shoulder from him for all those weeks I finally cried and locked myself into my room afterwards, packing to stay with my closest friend after I texted her if I could stay for a bit.

I'm currently with her and she's been making sure I'm comfortable and alright, trying to make time for us to watch things together or simply talk while I'm here so I don't feel so lonely. He has been texting me from a variety of things such as apologies to him trying to justify he was busy and stressed so of course he'd act cold to me. I've been replying to him, but after he called me overdramatic in one of the texts I've come back to ignoring him.

I don't want to throw out all our years together like this, but I still feel hurt and ignored by him from those weeks. I know we will have to talk sooner or later but currently I'm still scared of doing so.

So, am I the asshole for asking my partner to give me some attention? This isn't the first time this has happened, but definitely the first one it went this far and I feel that it's fully on me, for context.

What are these acronyms?

[blingblong55]

Night dilemmas- Ghost x Reader x Soap

A/N:lets pretend their a third person in this ^

Ghost x reader x Soap relationship where the boys have a nightmare and need comfort from the reader

This is based on a request:

Angst?, GN!Reader, poly relationship

It was a typical Tuesday night. Your two boys asleep in the living room after a few rounds of drinks. Soap on the floor because Ghost refused to share the couch. You had been up studying in your study room/ office. The words started to make no sense, thats when you hear a knock on the door. You turn around and Ghost stood there.

''Hey big guy, what's wrong?'' you asked in a calm soft tone.

Prior to him coming to you, he had one of his bad nightmares. You and Soap weren't there. He was back inside that coffin, he screamed for you. But no answer, he then heard voices. And immediately recognized your voice.

For hours he dug himself out, only to find you and soap on the floor, dead. He held you both, kissing your foreheads. ''please,,,please dont leave me. I don't know how to fix myself,,,please don't walk away, stay here with me.'' he said as tears streamed down his face, his voice cracking every now and then.

''it's just a dream'' you hugged him, rubbing his back as he let out silent cries.

''It felt so real though,'' he cups your face in his hands, delicately caressing your cheeks, ''I don't know who I am with out you both.''

You tried to talk, but whenever he has this kind of dreams, all you do is listen.

''I'm scared, for the first time in a long time...I'm scared r/n, I'm so scared and I don't know what to do.'' he continues on, his voice sounded so lost and weak. Tears flowing down his soft face.

''What if one day because of me you both-''

''no, don't think like that, we will be fine.'' You wiped his tears as you leaned in and kissed his nose. ''I'll always be here, we will always be here for you Simon.''

Later that night, you laid in bed with him until he was asleep. As you closed your eyes, you heard Soap's voice. You carefully left the bed and tucked Ghost in. You walked into the living room to find Soap holding himself, he looks up and a weak smile appears on him. He stands up and goes to hug you.

His strong big arms holding you close. ''where did you go? I was all alone.'' he cried into your arms. You hugged him even tighter, your hands brushing through his hair.

''I'm here okay? what happened.''

Soap's dream was like Ghost, but in his Ghost had died, and you were the only thing he had left. You two had gotten into an argument and you drove off. It was a snowy weather, you crashed the car and when he woke up, you or Ghost weren't near.

He swore it wasn't a dream, that now it was his reality. He looked for you in the study room/office, where you said you'd be all night. When he didn't see you, that's when he started to really cry.

''You..you were gone and'' his breathing was starting to become more abnormal, ''I was all alone and I-''

''It was a dream soap, we are here baby...we are home, safe and sound.''

You brought him to bed, Ghost and Soap rested their heads on your chest. You hummed a lullaby as you delicately brushed their hair, at times they would wake up and look at you or the other, they'd smiled once they knew you three were together.

This kind of nights were normal around the house. At times you'd have to prepare a bath for them, where you'd scrub them clean and just talk about anything. It was always you three in there, comforting the other.

That to them was the sunshine after the storm. It was home and it was love. It was you three.

---------

A/N: Soooo...I hope this one was good enough for ya! honestly idk what other consider angst anymore thats why I always put the '?' after the word

Tags: @warenai

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[directdogman]

In my own writing I struggle with giving each character their own voice (speech patterns, phrases they use) and in Dialtown each character is super specific. Are there certain things you had to remember for each character, other than Oliver using his fucked up slang lmao.

When I write my characters, I can usually hear them in my head to some extent. Like, I can picture how it would feel to talk to them, or if I tuned out while one of my characters was chattering away about something, I can kinda hear the unintelligible static.

If you want me to write a lil essay pointing out differences in how the characters in the main cast are written, alright, I'll bite:

Verbal ticks help differentiate characters for me. We all know about Randy's stuttering, but there's more than just that in how the characters' sentence structures affect how we see their speech.

Karen's sentences tend to end in periods, if they aren't questions or if her voice isn't raised. Almost all of Randy's sentences, meanwhile, end with ellipses (…) or hyphens to indicate he trailed off/stuttered his way through the ending. Oliver does occasionally end sentences with ellipses or hyphens, but defaults to periods and often exclamation marks, as he's pretty excitable. This alone shows the difference in tone/confidence that the main 3 have without changing any words.

The characters all use slightly different terminology when they speak. Oliver's fucked up slang is only a part of it, he also uses theatrical language, often framing sentences creatively and in a way that absurdly beefs up the word count of his dialogue. He uses fairly atypical adjectives, surrealist language. He refers to himself in the third person sometimes. He uses imperfect tenses in order to make his sentences longer/less uniform. I'll give an example, from when Gingi asks Oliver if film reel movie projection is magic:

"I consider myself a sorcerer of FILTH, perhaps (an apt conjurer of muck/grime), but this artform isn't QUITE witchcraft NOR warlockery, I'm 'fraid."

Okay, putting aside the bizarre content of the sentence itself, one curious thing to note is that the whole sentence is full of words that don't convey any additional information. Conjurer is a synonym of sorcerer and he uses two synonyms for dirty AFTER already using filth. Guy loves theatrical language and will structure his sentence to make sentences much longer, so he can fit more of it in. But, then ends the sentence by taking a whole syllable away from the word 'afraid' and abbreviation it, like speaking with an accent. Oliver's sentence pacing is completely different to other people because of the volume of odd language he uses. In the context of the game, he's also drawing the player in by creating a pause, as the next line is:

"No, the actual "beaming" work comes from our dear old movie projector, and possibly my greatest love: Big Bertha!"

He likes Big Bertha and enjoys talking about her, and he tries to draw Gingi in and get Gingi invested in this thing by drawing out the introduction and forcing Gingi to wait for him to introduce Bertha in suspense. Randy volunteers info as if he thinks you're gonna hit him, unable to stand silence and hence, the sound of his own thoughts.

To contrast, Karen uses direct language, mainly. I wouldn't call her speech robotic, as most of the time she can retract language, she does (I am->I'm, I would->I'd, etc) but usually she uses direct tenses, and takes fewer words to say what she needs to compared to, say, Oliver. Generally, the words she uses tonally matches what she says. Weirder, less usual words come out when Karen is reacting to something she finds weird/illogical.

Norm's speech could be described as someone with a heavy accent who's well read, but is slightly insecure about being well-read. He uses words like 'y'all', 'ain't', 'reckon', retracts words like 'to' as 't'', but if you pay attention, he occasionally uses technical, academic language that doesn't match the aesthetics of the rest of his language. You can take the boy away from book learnin', but ya can't take the book learning outta the boy.

Billy is aggressive and generally, his language is designed to make the player feel bad in some way. Generally speaking, he's either insulting you, mocking your knowledge of the world, pointing out something you said as stupid, or is using words like 'lmayo'. Billy doesn't care much about the player, but is interested enough to talk to the player as a means to offend/demean them until you run out of things to say or leave, frustrated, which is Billy's goal. If you view what he says in this lens, you'll see this accurately describes how he speaks to you.

Billy uses surrealist language occasionally to seem more hellish and inhuman, but often, uses fewer words than other main characters. Subconsciously, it's to convey that Billy doesn't respect you enough to use more words. When Billy DOES use big words, it's exclusively on purpose and exclusively to subconsciously belittle Gingi, like when he refers to Gingi as a 'amphibian moron'.

God, similar to Billy, tends to use fewer words than most other characters. He often gives formulaic dialogue responses. There's no psychological play here, God just genuinely doesn't care how Gingi or anyone else sees him or if his tone/phrasing is improper because he knows how little respect people in Dialtown have for him anyway and embraces it.

Sometimes though, he does use uncommon synonyms for words, a byproduct of having lived so long through other times/eras. The references he makes are much the same. Fucker occasionally references ancient Greek figures and expects the references to land, as if everyone present somehow would've once somehow met these ancient fellows.

Mingus uses formal, impersonal language, and tends to use uncommon synonyms for words. The purpose of this is to subconsciously belittle the person she's speaking to and affirm her social class.

While she'll skirt past a commonly used word for a rare synonym in order to make her speech sound more dignified, she rarely leaves out pronouns in sentences. The reason for this is because most of her speech has an indignant tone. She's complaining about some shoddily done action or what she feels is a lack of service. So, the last thing she'd want to do is miss the opportunity to rant directly about her grievances in direct terms. Creative phrasing isn't used to replace pronouns but used to more elaborately phrase the error someone has committed to further emphasize her dismay. EG:

"You created the entire universe, and yet, the ability to perform a simple CARTWHEEL eludes you?"

Instead of saying "can", she says "the ability", instead of 'can't do', it's 'elude'. Hell, instead of 'do', it's 'perform'. But, both at the beginning and end of the sentence, she doesn't think to phrase the sentence in a way to avoid repeating the word 'you'. Like I said, the flourishes are just to drive the point home that she sees herself as above the person she's speaking to and to reaffirm how absurd she sees the limitations of others.

How Jerry talks is basically the conflict within a well educated but defeated man whose brain is decaying from years of substandard life. His speech, like his brain, is in conflict. His job dictates that he should always use terms of respect, like sir/ma'am, but he curses too. When he raises his voice, his sentences are often short and abrupt, but the words he uses tend to be elaborate and rarely used. Jerry is educated, has opinions on stuff. His mind is wasted at his job, and even through his defeated cynicism, you can subtly see that Jerry wants a better life through the words he uses.

Jerry's speech patterns are actually quite close to the narrator, and this is intentional, actually. The two characters share a few things in common that affect how they speak. Namely: Having to deal with Gingi's antics. There's almost a tired parental tone to both.

I could ramble for hours (please don't let me do this), but those are some examples of core character writing differences, namely in how I try to use language. Incorporating subtleties into the dialogue is good for separating characters and when you plan these out so that these placed differences are specific to traits that the characters have, your work'll feel more alive and be more satisfying to analyze later. Overthink. Overthink overthink overthink. It works, at least for me.

[fefairys]

i know that for the undertale cafe, some people traveled like, a long ways to come to it and were probably disappointed because requiem is small and most people (myself included) never got to try the food beacuse they were always out of it cause since theyre so small they can't hold very much inventory. i'm sure for homestuck it will be a lot of fun just to see other homestucks in person, but like. if you have to get on a plane to come here, i do not know if that is quite worth it, to be honest. but maybe it is to you idk! just dont get your hopes up for something spectacular when it is really gonig to be just a little nerd cafe with mediocre drinks and most likely no food..

like, i... assume there wont be as many ppl as there were at the undertale one, but at the undertale one i stood in line outside for 3 hours before going in, and they asked us to limit your visit to 20 minutes so more people can get in. (this was just for the first week or so. we went back the next week, still during the event, and it was pretty empty and there was no line and we could stay as long as we wanted, so maybe wait til towards the end if ur traveling)

also there will probably not be good parking slsdfsd the parking garage is VERY small, you will probably have to find street parking and walk a ways.

i am just seeing people talking about traveling great distances to come here and im like. haha oh jeez not sure if u wanna do all that! but again, like, if u think it would be worth it just to hang out, then thats great! i hope it is worth it for that alone! i know i am going to have fun just being in homestuck cosplay in public again, personally, even if the event itself sucks!

edit: !!!! i made a twitter thread saying this same stuff and requiem replied with this:

not really any details but it sounds promising to me! this is only their third collaboration like this so it makes sense that they’re still just getting their footing. they are a nice little queer-owned nerd cafe doing their best :’)

[melloween-candie]

Hold still [C.G]

Bully Carl Gallagher x Bullied Reader

Summary

You've known Carl for a very long time, and for a very long time, he has been picking on you. It started off small but gradually escalated to a much more painful issue. Your friends think he likes you. You think it's the other way around. But Carl, his thinking is different.

A/n - I realized that I have been using the same point of view throughout almost all of my writing, and I figured it was boring to constantly read like that, so I'm changing it up! Anyways the point of view I've been using is secondary. Figured if anyone cared- I am now going to try writing in first person.

Also, I figured I might as well finish this since it's been sitting in my drafts since day one. It's small and simple, I kinda wished I did more to it, but who knows- maybe I'll make a part two for it someday or just recreate it entirely.

Some parts in this fanfiction aren't canon. Meaning it wasn't from the show!!!

Warning: Self-harm, bulling

Word count: 1,443

[Angst/fluff]

Part 1, Part 2

Shameless Masterlist

Fandom Masterlists

/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/

***Y/n's Pov***

I was cleaning up the bloody mess I made on my wrist. This was the third time this week that I did this to myself. I couldn't help it, though. I've been feeling depressed lately, at least more than usual.

It's not anything in particular. However, my mother would say otherwise. She thinks it's all cause of that "no good Carl." In her own words too. Though she wasn't wrong.

I've known Carl for years, and he hated me ever since we met. I don't know why he hates me; he just does.

I never did anything to him in particular, or at least I don't think so.

"Y/n! You better hurry; otherwise, you'll be late again!"

That was my mother. I should probably go...

"Coming!"

Time skip!~

It was currently breakfast time here at my school. I normally hate breakfast time, along with lunch and free time too... My friends say I'm weird for that, but truth be told, I hate it because of him...

"Yo! Carl!" A random guy yelled. "What's happening?" He says as they get all friendly.

I bit my lips and held my books tighter. All-cause Carl Gallagher just entered the room.

Carl Gallagher... He's umm... something? Most people would call him a bully, especially if they saw the way he treated me, but honestly, I just think he uses me as an excuse to not look weak. After all, back then, during elementary school, he had this reputation of which he'd beat up kids just for looking funny.

Honestly, I envied him about that. Not caring about what anyone else thinks and just doing what feels right to you. I want to live like that.

The bell rings, signaling everyone to head to class.

Oh great. I hate this part. Reason is because I'll have to walk past him and if you were listening, he's not so friendly with me...

"W/n! There you are!" Carl gave you a big smile. "I was looking for you!"

"Ah... it's Y/n..." You said, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. "Never changed the name." You laughed awkwardly, trying to break that uncomfortable feeling.

"Rrright. Anyways! Where's my homework?" Carl didn't sound so friendly no more.

"Right here." You handed him your notebook. "If you could, I'll need tha- and he's gone." You sighed in defeat as you walked towards your first-period class.

I know that was pathetic, and you probably dealt with worst, but that was him being nice. Believe it or not, I got lucky. He was in a good mood this morning soo...

You entered your class and sat down.

Anyways, Carl used to like me. Or at least that's what my friends would always say back when we were still in middle school.

Nowadays, they don't really care about my situation with him anymore. It's old news to them. Which I don't blame them even if they did care; they couldn't change anything about it.

"Y/n? Y/N!"

"Uh?!" You snapped out of your thoughts. "Oh, hey, bff/n. What's up?"

"What's up?! What's up with you? I've been snapping my finger's in front of you for the last minute. What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, it's nothing."

This is bff/n. S/H/T are amazing. In fact, S/H/T is the only one that still cares about well the Carl situation.

"Did Carl do something again?" S/H/T said?

"No. Not exactly..."

"Where's your notebook?" S/H/T asked.

"Uhmm-"

"I KNEW IT! HE TOOK IT AGAIN, DIDN'T HE!"

"Keep it down!"

"Y/n! How can you be okay with this!"

"It's okay, really-!"

"He's tormenting you!" S/H/T interrupted. "Eventually, it'll turn into something way worst!"

"He's been 'tormenting' me for years, and it's never gotten too bad-"

"TOO BAD?!" S/H/T yelled. "He gave you your first panic attack! He embarrassed you countless of times..."

And there S/H/T goes. This is going to take a while.

You rested your head on the palm of your hand as the teacher walked through the door. Closing it, signaling that class is about to begin.

Time skip!~

"Look, Y/n. I'm just worried about you. Every year Carl does this to you, and only you; for some reason, doesn't that make you feel somewhat uncomfortable?"

"I mean... Eh?" You shrugged your shoulders. As your best friend groans in irritation.

"Look, Y/n. There's a 50% chance he likes you, and the other 50%, well, who knows but try to fight back or at least say something!"

"Ughh, bff/n. You know that will only make him mad," I said as I grabbed my math book for my next class. "And besides, as long as I don't irritate him, I'll be fine."

"Yeah, well, still..."

Time Skip~

Math class was as irritating as usual. Carl being Carl, kept throwing paper balls at me. Him and his group of friends kept snickering to themselves, making it a little hard to concentrate... Why did the teacher assign me to sit next to these people... ugh.

Anyways that's not the worst part. The worst part was when we got our homework papers back. Normally I would get really good grades in math, but today I got a B+. I rolled my eyes in aggravation. I have to bump this grade back up.

However, I thought it was only my grade that dropped... When I got into the hallway, Carl grabbed me unexpectedly.

"What the h*ll is this?!" He held his homework paper to my face as his other arm held onto my shoulder, pushing me against the lockers. The people just walked on past, pretending they didn't see anything.

"Uhhh..."

"Uh- UH?! Don't act stupid!" He yelled tauntingly. "You're supposed to be the smartest person in our grade! So why do I have a B on this paper?!"

"Look I'm sorry but It was just hard for me to focus during that lesson-"

"THE HEL* DO YOU MEAN HARD?!"

"Well- Well, maybe if you'd stop throwing paper balls at me, I could have focused better!"

Uh oh. That was the moment I knew I had screwed up... Carl's face turned bright red with anger as he dragged me towards the janitor's closet.

It was dark and dusty in there; it was like barely anyone ever cleans in there.

"Listen you! I told you before I gave you my homework- give me an A, or I'll kick your as*!"

I don't know what's gotten into me lately, but I said something I thought I never would-

"Why?! Why do you even care? I mean, you've never cared about anyone or anything before, so why do you care so much about your grade?!"

"Are you stupid or something? I don't, but football does. If I don't keep a good grade average, I'll get kicked off, and if I get kicked off, I'll kick you off this EARTH!" His hold on me grew tighter. I couldn't help but back up; because of this, he pushed forward.

"Ow!" I squealed. I could feel the blood starting to droop down my arm. I didn't realize this, but there were a lot of sharp objects in here... or at least it felt like it. With that, Carl grabbed the dangling on switch, turning on the lights.

He didn't notice at first, but eventually, he saw the blood. He looked at it and then looked back at me. He still had that irritated look on his face as he continued to hold onto his homework.

"Tch." He quickly grabbed my arm and pushed back the sleeves. I couldn't even react. "What the he*l?" His tone became quieter, but if his face could speak, it'd say something like, "Seriously? Cutting yourself? You're so weak."

Then without even saying anything, he started looking for something, not letting go of my wrist while doing so.

"Wha- What are you doing?" I said as he yanked my arm. He then clearly found what he was looking for, but the closet was a little too small, so I couldn't really see what he was starting at. He grabbed it, and I heard this taring sound. To my surprise, he was holding a piece of tissue, cleaning up my wound.

"You need to be more careful." He grumbled.

Huh?!?! I was so confused by this. He must have assumed that those cuts and scares were all accidental...? But what's weirder about this is why- why does he care?!

Maybe my friends were right... at least in a way. I blushed at the thought. Maybe he did like me, at least a little...

A/n

I wanted to give the reader the feeling as if Y/n is actually talking to you, as if you are the voice in, well, your own head. Or if you want you can think of it as you talking to an invisible friend in your head. Which ever works for you.~

[sports-on-sundays]

prince not so charming / CL16 / PART 2

Warnings : Switch between second and third person

Summary : Prince!Charles x Princess!Reader - The prince chooses who he wants to marry and grows closer to the one he wants.

Author's Note : Link to Part 1. There will be a Part 3.

Requested? : No.

You wake up to the sound of knocking. You slip out of the bed you've slept in for this night and pad across the floor to the door. The sun is shining in bright through the curtains. You open the door, still wearing just a nightgown. Standing in front of you is one of the other princesses, also still in a nightgown, with her hair in curlers. "Princess Y/n, I've been meaning to speak with you as soon as I soon you! Can I come in?"

You sigh, but shrug, opening the door to her. The two of you sit down on the bed, and you ask, "What could it possibly be?"

"You came yesterday dressed like a peasant! And what's more, you stayed with Prince Charles longer than any of the rest of us!"

"I did...?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing. "It didn't feel like that long."

"You must've been in there three times the amount that I was, and I was in there for one of the longest amounts of time! What did you do with him in there?"

You shrug again. Of course, your mind immediately goes to the hand holding, hugging, and the kiss of your hand, but you just say, "I don't know. We just talked."

"About what?"

"I am not obligated to tell you."

She rolls her eyes. "But isn't he just dreamy?"

"Well, he's never been in my dreams, so I would say not. Anyway, is there anything else you have to tell me?"

"Just that a servant came to tell me that a breakfast is being prepared for all of us, in which the prince's advisors, Prince Charles, his mother, and his brothers will attend.. They're going to tell us which one of us Prince Charles has chosen! I'm sure it will be me! We're very close in age, you know, and I think I put forth a good image. I'm sure I have more of a chance than you do, at least."

You nod and just say vaguely, your thoughts elsewhere, "Sure... I'm sure. Anyway, would you kindly mind leaving so that I can prepare myself? Tell the servants I don't need help getting ready."

She looks at you with a strange look, and mutters, "Alright, then. I'll tell them that. See you later, Princess Y/n."

"Yes, just be on with yourself now, please."

And at that, she gets up and walks out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her. You get up to turn the lock, and then go to the wardrobe. Last night, the servants told you that everything you'll need to get ready tomorrow would be in there.

There are many dresses in there to choose from, and you decide to get dressed in a beautiful but very modest dress, as it seems like Prince Charles' advisors are very traditional people. So you first put on a corset, not too tight, before putting on a white dress with a white top and flowing silky skirts. The longer sleeves also flow out, and the dress goes down to your ankles. You bathed last night, so you put oils in your clean hair, before tying it half up. You put on plain heels that aren't too high, and some nice sparkling jewelry, and then go to your makeup.

You suddenly hear Prince Charles' unique accented voice saying in your head, Cover up your beautiful face with all that makeup?

You sigh and whisper to yourself, "Yes, Prince Charles, I'm afraid I have to." You darken your eyelashes and put slightly darker than your skin sparkling eye shadow around your eyes, before finishing it with some brown winged eyeliner. "There, Charles. That's not so bad, is it?" You brush your eyebrows and cover your imperfections, before finishing up with rouge on your cheeks and lips.

Then you exit your room. There is a servant in the hall, who immediately offers to lead you to the dining room where breakfast is going to be eaten.

When you get there, you look around to realize in embarrassment that you're the last one to arrive. But then you shrug it off, deciding that's a stupid thing to be worried about, and sit down in the empty seat.

King Lorenzo welcomes us all to the table, before everyone starts eating. Apparently, once everyone finishes their food, the three princes, the queen, and Prince Charles' advisors will exit the room and discuss the decision one last time, before coming out and announcing it.

In the meantime, you eat, and the advisors and princes start conversing with you. You keep quiet, until the youngest of the three princes, Prince Arthur, addresses you quietly, as he is sitting very near to you, "Princess Y/n."

You look up, meeting his eyes. "Yes, sir?"

His face is lit up a little as he says, "If you were to marry him, what kind of wife would you be?"

You blink in surprise at this question, and say after some thought, "Well, I suppose I'd make sure to take care of my responsibilities. I'd care about him and help him, as it would be my duty, but of course also visit my country very often, which I always care about and want to help. And when it comes to having children..." You try not to sigh. "I'd prefer to take care of them myself rather than servants."

He looks a little surprised at this comment, but nods, saying, "Alright. Thank you."

"Prince, do you have any children?"

The younger man shakes his head, responding, "No, I do not. But if I did, I wouldn't want servants taking care of them, either. Our parents always took care of me, Charles, and Lorenzo."

You nod, and once it's clear he has no more to say, turn back to your food. You have to be very mindful to sit up straight, use your napkin, and eat very cleanly, in front of all these people.

The only other person, it seems, who does not speak much at all throughout the whole meal is Prince Charles himself, the one this whole breakfast is centred around.

Finally, though, the eating is finished, and everyone exits the room, leaving only the seven princesses and the servants.

You sit. And sit. And sit and sit and sit. It seems to take an eternity, and you can only wonder what they're talking about.

And there's a nervous anticipation within you, just wondering...

Will you be the one in the end? Or will it be one of the others?

All of the girls are fidgeting and whispering, but you sit completely still, back straight, staring ahead, as your thoughts fly through your head as fast as warhorses running into battle.

"So it's the quiet one in the white dress you want to marry?"

"Yes," Charles nods, responding to one of his advisors. "She's humble, willing, kind, and the kind of woman I want to marry."

Charles' advisors look unsure, but his older brother pipes in, saying, "If Charles has finally found someone he actually wants to marry, it would be foolish to say no."

"I agree," says the boys' mother. "I trust him if he says she's the right one."

"What do you think, Prince Arthur?" asks of the advisors. "Because what if Prince Charles really doesn't know what's best for himself? I still think Princess-"

"I will not marry the fifteen year old," Charles interrupts sternly.

Arthur says, "Advisors, who am I to have a say? For I am not my brother's keeper, am I? In fact, I am younger than him. But if you ask for my words, I say let my brother do as he pleases. For if he uses his own judgement and things go bad for him, who's fault would that be? His own. He is an able adult, just like the rest of us, who can decide for himself. I doubt this will be a terrible thing, but if it is, the only one who will have to deal with that is Charles himself."

Suddenly, Charles laughs, nudging his younger brother in his ribs, saying, "I believe that may have been the most intelligent thing you've ever spoken, brother."

But the younger just rolls his eyes at this, and everyone becomes serious again as the conversation over the matter continues.

Finally, the door opens, and the group of people enter the room again. Every sits down, except for Prince Charles, who remains standing. He's wearing a very handsome outfit, with a white and gold coat, a read sash, and fitting pants. "Ladies," he begins. "All seven of you were very kind, and I would consider marrying every one of you, but in the end, one had to be chosen. After a long time of thinking it over and considering, I've decided..." He trails off, studying each of our faces, it seems, as if he's trying to build of suspense. But really, it seems more like he's hesitating.

"I've decided that I would like to marry Princess Y/n."

The whole room suddenly bursts out in surprise. All the princesses and advisors stand and shout in confusion, but before anything else can happen, Prince Charles swiftly leaps onto the table, and off on the other side, next to you, before grabbing your hand and running out of the room with you. He slams the door shut, and keeps running, still holding your hand. You trip over your cursed high heels, but Prince Charles catches you, keeping you standing, and you stutter, "P- Prince, I need to... I can't run in these shoes!"

You expect him to stop and let you take them off, but instead, he suddenly picks you up, carrying you bridal style, and keeps running. "We'll go faster like this," he says to you.

"Prince, what is all this? Where are you bringing me? Can you please put me down-"

"No. I'll explain once we get there," he says firmly.

You sigh in annoyance, but decide perhaps the smartest thing to do now is to just trust him. He runs through the halls, until he reaches a door, opens it to the outdoors, and starts running down the stone stairs in front of us. "I can run myself," you say. "It's probably hard for you... I don't want us to fall, and these are steep stairs."

"It's okay," he replies, his grip on your mid back tightening. "We're almost there anyway, and I won't fall. I've got you."

"You're... pretty strong, huh?"

"Thank you," he nods, reaching the bottom of the stairs. He runs down a beaten down path, into a little woods, jumping over roots and catching himself on the uneven ground.

"Be careful... I don't want you to trip and fall. I can run if you want..."

"Don't worry. I won't loose my footing."

And, he doesn't. You honestly can't believe how athletic he is, with so much agility, to be able to do this so easily. Soon, he stops at a clearing. The prince seems barely winded, and actually has a good mood about him. It's a sunny day, and you start look around. "We can walk now," he says before you can get a good look, and gently puts you down back on your feet "If I were you, I'd take off my shoes now."

You nod and do so, but when your feet touch the rough rocky ground, you yelp in surprise. Right away, Prince Charles does something surprising. He slips off his two boots and says, holding them out to you, "Here. Put these on."

"They'll be way too big..." you say, unsure. "And what about you? Your feet will hurt, and you'll damage your socks."

Suddenly, he smiles.

And it's a smile brighter than the midday sun up above the two of you, shining on your skin.

"Don't worry about my socks," he says, taking them off. "And my feet can handle it. I walk barefoot often enough."

But you stare at him and his little smile, barely even hearing the words coming out of his mouth. In his eyes, you can see a certain happiness, and with the smile, two dimples appear on his cheeks.

You nod, snapping back slightly back to yourself as you slip on his boots. Then you turn to him and look him in the eyes, which shine bright green in this bright lighting, and say, "You have a beautiful smile."

He looks you back in the eyes, still smiling, and says, "I'm sure you do, too, though I've never seen it."

You nod and say simply, "Do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Never stop smiling."

He looks at you, eyes twinkling, and says with a wink, "That's a hard task, but I appreci-"

"No, but you don't understand," you interrupt, taking a step closer to him. He also takes a step closer. "I believe your smile could fix the worst day, and light up the saddest soul."

This makes him smile even more, and he wraps you in a hug, laughing a surprisingly cute little laugh. "Now I'm allowed to hug you. We're officially courting. Anyway, the place I've wanted to bring you to is right up ahead here."

You nod, and the two of you start walking. This seems to be some sort of wide kind of trail, and the middle of it is growing with long, tall grass, about Prince Charles' height, with beautiful flowers of all colors growing in it. You walk along, enjoying the warm day, inhaling the sweet scents of nature, and listening to the birds sing without a care in the world.

Soon, you come along a little shed made of wood. In front of it sit three wooden chairs. "Let's go sit there," he says, pointing to them. So you go and sit down together. After a few minutes of just sitting together, ceasing the day, watching the tall grass dance in the light breeze, Prince Charles says, "Mama, Lorenzo, and Arthur all said I should court and marry you. My advisors disagreed, and they outnumbered the four of us. The only way to get out of there was to convince them that I had given in, and that I would choose one of the other princesses. So I made it seem like I was going to. But then when I walked out, I didn't. And I grabbed you and ran, to get away."

"Well... We'll have to go back there, no?"

"Yes of course we do. I just want to wait it out. Wait until things calm down there first before going back. But I am marrying you. My heart is set on it."

"So you want to marry me that much?"

This time he looks surprised. "Why, of course!"

"Oh..." you nod.

"I'm sorry... That isn't what you wanted...?"

"No, no, no... As long as... Well, I think you're starting to grow on me," you smile at him.

And he smiles back. "There's that lovely smile. I knew it'd be beautiful."

"So, tell me about this place. Surely you aren't the only person that knows about it?"

"No, no, I'm not. Arthur an Lorenzo knows about it, and a few other guys, too."

"This place feels like it has many stories for some reason, Prince. It feels like it has a story of its own."

"I suppose it kind of does. Lots of things happened here. I love this place because of the memories. But in a strange way as well, I hate it."

"Why could that be?"

"It's empty now. It's overgrown and quiet. This was... I loved this place. I still do. Back then, no adults knew about this place. Now I suppose only adults know about it. People grow. Places grow. Places also change. But most of all, people change."

You nod, gently placing your hand on his. "Do you dislike that?"

"Maybe a little bit."

"Do you wish you were still a boy?"

"Sometimes..." he pauses. "It was good times. Good... Good memories."

"What did you do here?"

"Well, we would mostly have competitions," he starts, another beautiful smile forming on his face. "We would be racing mostly. We had our ponies, and we'd race. We did other little things too though. We arm wrestled. We would bet on who we thought would win the chariot racing championship. Sometimes inside this shed here, do little things like play cards or draw pictures. It was fun. It was good fun."

"Do you still preserve the shed?"

"Yes. I... I do." He waits a few seconds, before saying, "Sometimes it's hard to let go."

"And sometimes there are things that you should never let go. Prince Charles, when i look at you, there's something beautiful within you. An innocence that makes you child-like. Being around you feels like being free. Completely free. You're a man who longs for the freedom and joy that children have implanted in their hearts. You have an adventurous streak, and you want danger, but you have such a kind, kind heart. A heart that wouldn't want to fight. A heart that just wants to run free. And I think that's beautiful."

"I guess so, but it's not convenient," he says with a soft, sad smile, looking down.

"Nothing good is convenient. Come on now. Why don't you show my the inside of this shed?"

He nods, standing up, and swings open the door, saying, "For years I've felt like a boy and a man at the same time. Everyone else was getting older as I stayed young. But now... Now I think maybe, with you, I can... I can finally grow up."

"And if you never do completely," you say, stepping into the shed, "I'm okay with that."

In the middle of the small room is a table. Sitting on it is a stack of playing cards and some dice. On a shelf in the corner is a little kid's helmet, and a stack of wood. Sun is shining in through a window that is covered by a thin, faded curtain. There are other little knick-knacks, like a top, a little carved toy horse, a little knife, and a pair of gloves used for gardening.

But your eyes are drawn to some names carved on the wall. There is a small list, but some parts of the list stand out to you more. The first name is written is Charles, but it's crossed out, and next to it is the name Max. Then under that are the names Arthur, Pierre, and Esteban. Then at the end of the row, written again, this time not crossed out, is Charles, and underneath his name are the names Lorenzo and Jules.

"Pierre and Esteban. Those are two princes of other countries, no?"

"Yes, they are. They also still race with me."

You nod. "You all used to be friends?"

"Yeah, some of us were friends. Some of us just competed against each other. Everyone who ever came here carved their name on this wall."

"Who's Max?"

"Another guy I still race with. We've always been competitive."

"And obviously there's Prince Arthur and King Lorenzo. Who's Jules? Does he still race?"

Prince Charles seems to stare for a few seconds at the name, before saying, "No. No, he doesn't." There are a few seconds of silence, and just as you're about to ask further about Jules, Prince Charles says, "Either way, you're here now. I say you ought to write your name up there," he says, handing you the little knife.

"But I never raced h-"

"But you're here. Go on. Write it."

And so underneath Jules' name, you write your own. "Good?"

"Perfect," he says with a little wink, taking the knife back from you and setting it down.

"So does that mean Lorenzo and Arthur know where this place is, then?" you ask, but suddenly you're answered when you both hear running footsteps from outside. You both immediately turn in that direction, and hear a voice call, "Charles? Charles? Are you there? It's Arthur!"

"Yes, we're inside!" Prince Charles calls back.

And soon, the wooden door swings open, and the younger, slimmer, but likely just as strong, prince walks into the little building. "Charles," he says, looking around. "Gosh, I haven't been in here since... years."

"I figured it'd be a good place to go."

Prince Arthur nods. "Fair enough."

"What's the condition of the advisors?"

"Annoyed, but they will have to get over themselves, no?"

"True enough."

"So we go back. Princess Y/n goes home. We send a letter to her father, and then she comes back in... I don't know. Probably a week. You come back in a week to court with Charles for a month, and at the end of that month, you marry."

You nod. "Alright..."

"So you should come back with me now." Prince Arthur looks down at the boots on your feet and the nothing on Charles' feet, and says simply, "And you can't be arriving like that. You might get killed."

Prince Charles chuckles. "We have her shoes. We'll switch shortly before we get there."

Prince Arthur nods, and the three of you set off, down the path, you in the middle of the two princes. As you walk, Prince Arthur talks to the two of you about racing, life, and so on. He seems to just be enjoying talking to his brother.

Soon enough, you get to the castle. You switch shoes, and Prince Charles looks down at you, saying, "Well, Princess, let's go."

[amalia-uwu]

Final Exams

Undertale by Toby Fox! The rights go to the respective owners!

Sans x Female Reader, Sans & Female Reader

Warnings ⚠️ : angst, anxiety

Photo by Pixabay from Pexels:

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Inspired by fudgelling-away's comic @fudgelling-away and my exams.. :')

Sequel “Exams Day”

So, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow I'm giving finals.. I wrote this to keep my sanity. Ha!... *sighs*

Enjoy!

First Person's Point of View

.

.

I was a 5th years student in the university.

2 lessons. That's all it was for me to take my degree...

Yet, it seemed too much..

Sans.. Heh, Sans was visiting me, bringing me snacks patting my  shoulder, giving me hugs, encouraging me!

Heh, he even caught me many times not reading and just slacking off. Heh...

I always loved the face he had when he caught me red-handed.

He looked intimating yet I knew he wanted only the best for me..

I tried to read. I really tried.

But, by the time I began third year; I began feeling the grip on concentration slipping away.

So much studying. I went through everything fighting with tooth and claw for a job I loved so much.

I enjoyed reading!

Really!

Is just that now, I..am struggling..

Was it my age? Was it other problems I was trying to solve and got overwhelmed? Was it a combination?

Maybe a combination...

Now I was just tired. Everything seemed too much. Yet, I kept trying...

Even though my stomach felt like someone had made it a tight knot.. I kept trying.

Even though I felt an invisible hand gently touching my chest.. I kept trying.

Anxiety drowned me.. Squeezed me. I kept trying.

No matter what. I kept trying.

Eventually; I had enough.

It was one of these moments where I was sitting on the chair.

The book, laptop, opened in front of me.

I was reading but, the words didn't make sense.

Concentration had given up hope on me..

I lowered my face. Hands crossed on my lap. My hair covering my face. My lips in a tight line. Teeth clenched.

The air shifted, I knew who was about to appear.  "heya pal" I heard his deep soft monotone voice.

I felt a soft hand wrapping my shoulder. My hair were still covering my eyes.

"i brought you some snacks. coffee, fruits and some sweets. i see that you are studying, nice! call me if you need anything!".  He gently let the dish down with a soft sound.

He gave me a soft pat on my shoulders and let go of me.

I didn't want to speak but at the same time, it would be rude..

All this trouble for me... The least I can do is thank him.

"Thank you!" I said  softly with strain and mentally slapped myself...

Sans stopped. He turned around, something in my voice felt wrong. "are you okay?"

My shoulders began shaking. "Of course".

A couple of tears ran down my eyes. I removed my glasses.

Sans walked and stood next to me. He pulled the second chair and sat down.

He carefully brushed my hair to the side.

He gently took my face. Rough bones on my chin and cheeks. I refused to look at him.

"what's wrong?" his soft masculine voice held concern, care.

"Nothing". I said bluntly, hoping he'll go and just leave me alone!

"i'll count on 3", his phalanges moved and touched my shoulder, firmly yet gently.

Oh man; I should have known better, he won't let go so easily. I said nothing.

He began counting.

I refused to look at him and speak.

"2.5". I stayed silent.

"2.9". Ugh! I looked at him.

"Okay, I'll tell you! ". I held no malice, just slight annoyance, yet relief..

He stopped. I could understand that he was listening.

"Its the exams.. Im tired. My concentration has abandoned me... It's getting too much! I only have 2 lessons, yet I can't concentrate. I just can't... It's not like I don't want to, I can't concentrate! Plus, other worries... ".

He gently hugged me and caressed my back. Eventually I broke... I kept talking.

Telling him my fears; losing the ones I care about, staying alone, my physical appearance, my weight..

Everything, was spilled before him and he kept hugging me.

I buried my face on the crock of his neck. His soft hoodie a pleasant sensation on my face. Our sternum touched. He could feel my heartbeat on his sternum and I could feel his soul and soft magic trying to comfort me. He was warm in touch.

He waited for me too stop crying, some of my tears stained his hoodie.

He caressed my back. His phalanges through my hair.

Soon my tears faded to hiccups and shaky breaths.

He waited another couple of minutes before talking.

"assuming you fail is there another chance?" he asked pulling me away, his cyan eyes looking at my brown ones.

"Of course, either I take other lessons in summer or I give the same ones on September" I answered while cleaning my eyes with a napkin he gave me.

"okay, if you fail, is it the end of the world?" he never broke eye contact with me. I tried to keep my eyes on him but I felt shame for breaking in front of him.

"N-No..." I lowered my face. He raised it up to look at him. 

"will someone take your head?" his voice was so soft and caring...

"No.." My breathing became even.

"its gonna be okay! can you at least try?" he put both hands on my shoulders, he hugged me.

"Yes, *sniff* yes I can". I answered hugging him.

His scent sure calmed me down.

Wait... Was that a mixture of lavender and lotus? Heh... Really?

"do you like my fragrance?" he asked turning his head slightly. I nodded "Yeah.. The perfumes are comforting.. You always smell nice!".

He was silent for a while. He nerver smelled bad, even tho he could go days without a shower. He always smelled nice around me.

I could feel in my sternum, how his soul flattered. Ha! I got him shy and aaawww coochie coochie coo!

After a couple of seconds? Minutes? "go put on  one of your favorite dresses, add a little makeup and come here. im waiting". He said softly breaking the hug.

I looked at him dumbfounded but complied anyway.

I put on my blue dress with small navy blue flower designs.  I fixed my hair, added soft makeup and went to meet him.

He was waiting reading one of my books.

"I'm ready! Sorry you waited so long" I announced. He looked up at me and smiled.

"hm.. come with me". He grinned stretching his humerus.

I nodded gently holding him. I closed my eyes and I felt the wind shifting. The ground shifted under me.

"here we are" he informed.

I opened my eyes. I was at the beach, the soft breeze caressing my face. The sound of waves filled my ears.

We walked by the seaside.

Photo by Travis Rupert from Pexels:

The salty smell, the breeze, the waves, him, alleviated my worries.

"Sans?" I asked timidly.

"hm?" his attention was on me; Oh stars!! I'll never get tired of those soft cyan eyes.

"Thank you! I mean it! For everything! May I treat you with some food?" you hoped he will say yes. Come ooonnnn!!! Say yes!

He smiled and nodded "sure, got something in mind?"

"You okay with sweets?" I asked, he wasn't picky but needed to know anyway, maybe he wasn't in the mood for sweets today.

"sure" he grinned and shrugged softly.

"Waffles?" I asked fixing my glasses and playing with the end of my silk black belt.

He chuckled "heh, sure! lead the way girl" he said.

I nodded, took him by the hand and leaded him to my favorite place.

I caught a glimpse of him grinning softly.

It took some minutes for us to go there. Once we did ; We sat down, there was glass in front of us, the sea and the palm trees, the road our view.

I ordered hazelnut praline with biscuit, and caramel ice-cream waffle.

While Sans took the milk chocolate with biscuit and vanilla ice cream.

We ate and chatted a little bit. I went to the bathroom and paid as promised.

We walked a little bit then he took me home.

"Thank you Sans"

"don't mention it moonlight" heh, that was a nickname he gave me. Along with «starlight».

He knew I was a shameless selenophile (someone who loves the moon).

I entered my home, took a shower, put on my pyjamas and laid down.

I texted him

you: Thank you I had a great time with you today!

Puntastic: heh, me too! but please try to worry so much! it will be okay!

you: I'll try! Thank you again! Goodnight! Sleep well!

Puntastic: you too!

I put the phone down. I laid down and closed my eyes with a smile all over my face.

I'll try whatever happens... Happens.

It will be okay, I'll be okay!

.

.

The end 😘

Thank you for reading! 💙

[irreplaceable-ecstasyy]

beautiful undone

REQUEST: Hi! I have an idea. What if the reader was someone who heard tales of "Monstrous Brienne" or as she was mockingly called, "Brienne the Beauty". But when she finally puts a face to the name, she's all "Huh, she doesn't look that bad. She's actually quite handsome." Then decides to give Brienne a makeover to prove everyone wrong. Like longer styled hair, makeup, fitting dress, and even posture and smile. Like total Princess Diaries. Then when she's done people are all like" Who is this Goddess?!?!"

WORD COUNT: 3309 words

[Every time I try to make something a small one-shot, it ends up being longer than the previous one. oOOP- Anyway, enjoy <3]

Had you been deceived or had you been so stupidly foolish to listen to the harsh whispers in the street of the dreaded Brienne of Tarth? How they spoke of her as though she were a beast. 'Beware the Monstrous Brienne! She's a half-giant! If you anger her, she'll tear you apart.' or 'Brienne the Beauty! You'd scream at the sight of her.' There was not a person in Westeros who had ever said anything pleasant of the woman; it only made sense that the sayings were true. Whenever you walked in the streets, you would keep an eye out for her. You had always wanted to see her for you wondered how a lady could stir such a reputation for herself.

It was on a faithful day when you bumped into her at the marketplace. She was unmistakable. A tall looming woman clad in armor picking fruits for herself at a stall. You knew it was her from her height, one of a supposed half-giant as people said, and from the insults thrown at her. She was not bothered in the slightest by the yells and screams, but she turned to look at you when you found yourself suddenly right next to her. Your feet had carried you to her side to gawk and stare, wonder glimmering in your eyes.

The woman standing in front of you was unlike anyone you had ever seen. The monstrosity everyone saw in her simply did not exist. Beautiful was one way to describe her but a better term you might use was handsome. She was an incredibly handsome lady, and you were far too baffled to speak nor hear when she tried to talk to you.

"May I help you?" It was her third time repeating herself, and her patience was slowly running thin.

Snapping out of your daze, you offered your best smile. "I apologize if I'm interrupting your day but I just wanted to meet you."

"Meet me?" she questioned. "What for?"

"I was curious. I've only ever heard about you," you admitted, and you saw how her face twisted.

"I see," she muttered. "Now that you have, we can get on with our lives." With that, she turned away and you felt your stomach turn. The rumors. What a horrible impression to turn up with.

Before she could walk away, you scampered to her, struggling to keep up with her pace. "No, wait! I apologize if it came off as offensive. I didn't mean for it to sound like I believed the rumors!"

"I understand," she spoke stiffly, not quite breaking her stride.

"No, you don't. Will you let me explain myself?"

"There's no need for that, thank you very much. I must be on my way, and you should too."

"But Ser-!"

"Goodbye."

Picking up your legs, you managed to get in her way, arms spread out to stop her. She stopped in her tracks and stared at you incredulously. If there was one thing to fear about Brienne of Tarth, it was the intensity of her glare. You could feel your heart starting to race in your chest, but you held your ground. If she was not going to listen to an apology, you had to think of something else close to it. You could not let her go with the thought that you were just another person out of thousands who wished to make a mockery of her. But what could be worth more than an apology?

"Will you just hear me out?"

"I already am, so you had better use this time wisely, young one."

"I want to dress you." The words came out faster than your mind ran, but you were confident. Your family dabbled in tailoring, and your sense of style came from observations among the crowds at events. If anything, observation was your strongest weapon and you intended to use it if the lady would allow you to.

Her glare did not waver but there was a brief moment of conflict in her gaze. "And why would I allow you?"

"In all honesty, I don't know. Maybe I want to prove people wrong about you because now I know that everyone's spreading bullshit about you," you admitted.

That was when her features softened, but she was still wary of you. "If you're going to parade me in a dress in front of everyone, you can forget it."

"I don't just shove people into a dress," you interjected. "I make sure it's right for them. You don't fit people into a dress. You fit the dress onto them."

Brienne was slightly taken aback but she was listening properly. "You seem to know what you're talking about."

"My family runs one of the tailor shops. I don't do the sewing but I certainly know how to find a person's style."

Silence passed over the two of you as Brienne spared some time to consider your offer. With the way she had frozen in a pose to think, you could already picture the perfect look for her. A hand on her hip, the other holding onto a basket of fruits, her frame tall and proud. You wanted nothing more than to show everyone that Brienne was no beast of a woman. People always talked. They loved their gossip more than anything and though it was not in your power to stop them, you could put a halt to it by making a statement instead.

You waited in anticipation, your nerves flaring by the minute. Denying you was the worst scenario and you could be on your way but you knew the thought of her would never leave you. No one ever spoke of her inability to carry out her duties, but no one ever gave her the credit she deserved either. You had to do something.

Finally coming to a conclusion, she looked at you sternly. "There's a small celebration coming soon, as you may know..."

"The Winter Solstice, yes."

Brienne nodded. "The Longest Night. You can do it then."

"I'd be honored to."

"It's in a week. Will that be enough time for you to prepare?"

"Of course. We happen to be very efficient," you grinned at her. "I will ask, is there anything I must know before I start designing?"

"Nothing pink and frilly," she answered a little too quickly, but you made sure to take note of it. "Will you run the designs by me?"

"You'll have to see during the fitting." You were already scribbling away at a scrap of parchment you had brought with you.

"And what if I don't fancy the dress you've made?" Brienne prodded.

"Then you'll have to give us your feedback to make necessary changes."

She raised a brow. "Will it not delay us?"

"Not at all. You can come early. Perhaps noon. It will give us more than enough time to prepare you." When you looked up from your notes, Brienne was merely a few inches away from you, eyes bearing into yours. A trial of trust.

"Then I'll see you at noon," she spoke slowly. "I look forward to seeing your work."

"Don't be late."

"You humor me, young one. I will have transport sent for you so don't be late."

"Will you let me do your hair too?"

A pause. "Fine."

You saluted playfully as you stepped out of her way. Much to your surprise, she bowed to you and went on her way. Pausing midway, she turned around, a sudden realization dawning on her.

"I didn't get your name."

"I quite like 'young one'."

Taken aback, she nodded slightly. "If that is what you insist."

Bowing once more, she turned on her heel and proceeded on her way. You observed how she walked with a certain elegance to her. Had it not been for the armor, she would be a little less stiff. It would be liberating to get the weight off her, you could only imagine. No corset then, or any sort of rigid support. You scribbled the notes onto your scrap.

You watched as she disappeared into the crowd, and the bubbling excitement that had been blossoming inside of you exploded. You did not realize how stunned you were by her natural beauty. Without a woman's conventional use of make-up, she was still a sight for sore eyes, and you may well pass out knowing what wonders a bit of make-up could do for her. Her hair was another exciting part to think about. Slicked back or messy tendrils, she could wear any look and it would still go with what you already had in your mind. The thrill was exhilarating and you rushed home to get started on it.

Having consulted your parents, you began your masterpiece with their guidance. They would be the ones making the dress so they followed you through each step of the way. As for the other details that came with it, you knew enough people who could be of assistance. No one questioned who the dress was for which made the job easier throughout the week. Whenever someone dared, privacy was the golden answer.

Day and night, you toiled away with needle and thread, running on a few hours of sleep. Somehow, you could still work your magic. With assistance from your family, your project was soon complete in just a few days, leaving two days to spare to run through the details and consider last minute ideas. You had to find some way to occupy your time while you waited for the knight's visit or you might crash with all the energy coursing through you. But thankfully, the day came quick.

Now, had it been energy keeping you awake or anxiety? You could not tell, but you had not a moment to think about it for the carriage was already waiting for you outside. The ride to the castle was pleasant but your stomach was turning. It did not take long until you arrived and a guard led you straight to the lady's quarters.

A knock on the door and you were welcomed inside. Today, Brienne had decided on a casual outfit instead of donning her armor. Her hair was slicked back but there were a few stray strands over her eyes. She studied the shop with such elegance, it made you feel rather small to be in the presence of someone so majestic.

A cough was what caught her attention as you forced down the last of your worries and she greeted you with concern. "Are you alright?"

You waved a hand at her. "I'm alright, I'm alright." With that out of the way, you graced her with a smile. "I'm here!"

"That you are."

"Shall we get started?" you beamed. "I won't keep you waiting any longer." Motioning for her to follow you, you trotted into another room with the knight at your heels.

Her quarters were simple. Not bare but well decorated enough to be cozy. Simplistic was certainly Brienne's own preference, and you found that it gave you room to breathe. There was a good amount of sunlight and a perfect view of King's Landing from the window. It all felt like a dream. The room you had walked into was her own personal bathroom and you draped the dress over a rail for what you could only assume was for robes and towels.

"You can put it on in here. I'll lace it up once you're done."

You exited the room in a hurry and closed the door behind you. There was a tense silence in the air, only filled by the ruffle of clothes and possibly your heartbeat. You could hear it hammer in your ears as the door swung open and out came Brienne with a pinch of worry.

You noticed that she was avoiding the mirror for her eyes sought for something to stare at as a distraction while she steered herself to stand with her undone laces facing you. You weaved them with trained hands, and when you were done, you continued to style he rest of her. From her hair to her face, you were too focused to realize that her attention had shifted from the wall to you as her distraction.

Her anxiety was crunching but she was grateful that you seemed to have taken no notice of it. Her hands were balled into tight fists, nails digging into her palms to get a hold of herself. She maintained all composure to calm herself. She could be making a fool of herself all over again for taking this chance, for trusting you. But, wthat sort of a knight was she if she were not taking risks? She had taken more life-threatening jobs than go through embarrassing situations. It felt ridiculous even anticipating the terrors of humiliation.

The intensity of your attention and commitment to every detail was comforting, in a sense. No person would waste away their time on another just to make a fool of out of them, right? She eased herself with her breaths, letting her mind empty itself while she focused on you. On the way your lip would curl when you felt triumphant, on the way your brows knitted when you were focused, on the scrunch of your nose as you contemplated. It calmed her down.

What was hours had only felt like minutes and you were done. You maneuvered yourself in front of her to take a look at her. The masterpiece and the dress.

She donned a high collared dark blue velvet dress that reached down to her feet, long sleeves cuffed at her wrists, and no corset but a belt that wrapped around her waist. The belt was embroidered with the symbols of her house, and within its center was the Stark's sigil, for the house she honored. Her hair was curled instead of gelled back, but there was just a bit of gel to maintain the curls through the night. You were not finished just yet. There was still a trick or two up your sleeve but you needed just brief second to see all of Brienne. Giddily, you touched her chin gently, a brush in hand.

"Lower your head a little," you murmured as you assessed the details of your design.

"I'm sure you aren't that short."

"I'm trying to get the light."

And so, she adjusted herself. "How much longer?"

"Only a touch bit..." you hummed. With a few strokes of your brush, you added your finishing touches. "And there."

A beat.

"You can look in the mirror, my Lady."

She looked at you, frozen in place. Taking her hand, you led her to the mirror at the back of the room. She did not look until you stopped, and when she did, she stared at her reflection. That person... That very lady she was looking at was herself. She moved a hand to her cheek as if to check that it was no illusion and when the truth of the situation sank in, you saw her bottom lip quiver.

"I... I look--"

"Beautiful."

She looked at you, eyes glittering in tears, but her blank stare never changed. "I've never felt this way... I.. I don't know how to thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for. It's all you. All I did was style you up."

"No, you haven't." She wiped her tears away delicately to prevent herself from smudging your art. "In Tarth, I would be fitted into what they deemed the prettiest dresses, be made to look like the picture perfect woman to whosever standard it was... but none of that ever made me feel beautiful. You made me feel more of a lady than I've ever been."

"I often go by the philosophy, 'if you can't fit in, then stand out'. You don't have to look like the other hundred women in the room."

"I'll have to think the way you do more often," she laughed lightly as she continued to dab away her tears.

"I tend to be wise." Your eyes lit up when you spotted a box sitting on your desk and you leapt straight to it. "One last thing."

You brought it over to her and set it on the floor before opening it to reveal a silver wreath of vines with a moon and sun bloomed in the center. You had it made on the day you met her as it was the first idea that sparked in your head for your design. It was simple but it completed the rest of the look. Awestricken, Brienne stared at it and you had to beckon her to lower her head for you to put it on her, like a crowning. It sat atop of her curls, a perfect fit, and she straightened herself right up to look at herself once more.

"It's beautiful."

"Just a finishing touch."

She peered closer in the mirror, fingers running along the lining of her wreath. "I look like one of them."

"Who?"

"The Lords and Ladies. I'm a proper Lady."

"You always were, and still are. With or without the dress."

Brienne looked as if she might faint with how overwhelmed with joy she was but she could only bask in it for so long now that the evening was drawing near. A knight had her duties but at least she was dressed for the occasion. You accompanied her to the door but she did not leave. She had taken ahold of both your hands, her anxiousness returning to her. She would have to face the world in the clothes that made her a ridicule, all on her own. With a few words, her confidence may crumble and she would lose all respect for the knight she was.

Not a lady nor a knight, who else could she be?

She breathed sharply when you drew her into an embrace. "Don't forget to smile."

Laughing softly, she wrapped her arms around you loosely and patted your shoulders. "You are starting to sound like a mother."

You pushed her away lightly and crossed your arms. "Come on."

Sighing, she put on a small smile. "There."

"And there we are..."

The words came quick but she could not hold it in anymore. One second more and she would have doubted herself. "Come with me."

You gave her a look, stumbling back in surprise. "I couldn't possibly! I'm not dressed for it."

"Then stand out." She extended a hand to you. She had used your own words against you.

You stayed true to your philosophy and took the hand proudly. If she was going to brave her fears, it was a good example to follow your own advice. The walk to the ballroom was long but it gave you enough time to muster every ounce of courage in your body to take in the crowd of thousands in the room. You slipped your arm through Brienne's to secure yourself to her as she led you through. As much of a social butterfly you were, you were not willing to get lost in a crowd of strangers, let alone nobles who had the personalities of feral animals, waiting to strike any commoner down.

Heads turned to look your way but their eyes were not on you. They were on Brienne. She towered over most and she met eye-to-eye with a few men who met her stature. There was not an insult in the room, only gaping jaws and astonishment as they came to realize who it was at your arm. Some lords took the initiative to greet Brienne a good evening and compliment her before ladies started following after. A smile looked bright on Brienne but pure happiness looked radiant on her.

Maybe Brienne the Beauty had always been the truth, and you were honored to be the one who uncovered it.

[the-dawn-star]

Place to Stay part 25(Klaus M. x Gilbert!Reader x Elijah M.)

A/N: Hello everyone and I'm really sorry about the long wait! I haven't been feeling great and I am completely lost with this story so I would love to hear your guys's ideas about the story. All comments and likes and stuff are really appreciated!!

-S

+2300ish words, proof read by @Ana_Mia_Lisa on ao3.

Lying in bed with darkness surrounding me was comforting. I could forget who I was and the deeds I had done on the last day or two. The only problem was that I laid in that massive bed alone, while Klaus moved to one of his many guest rooms. I felt bad for taking his bed, but Klaus had insisted on it. He had insisted on the fact that we should not go further than the kisses we had shared after I showed up on his doorsteps. I knew I might be annoyed by his behavior now, alas, I would probably thank him for that. But having the room only to myself made me feel like I wasn’t being watched at every second.  

I pulled the cover over my head, giving myself a nice, dark place. Being alone in the darkness, I felt a knot of hair at the back of my hair and I let out a deep sigh. I have had a headache since I first woke up. I had been up for nearly an hour trying to fall back asleep, but my thoughts didn’t let me do that. Instead, I had fallen into a quiet, hyperventilating mess, and because of a miracle, no one had heard me.

This time it didn’t take an hour to fall asleep. After all, I was exhausted. I had been exhausted for so long. I was asleep for minutes but it didn’t give me the rest I was so desperate for. My dreams are filled with images of Damon’s blood covering my body, of me killing him for good. But none of those images brought me joy.  

--- 

The raindrops hitting the window woke me up a third time. My sleep had been restless so waking up when my body didn’t any less rested as I felt when going to bed didn’t really surprise me. But it was calm, and mostly quiet except for the tiny dripping sounds of the raindrops. 

I closed my eyes again, hoping to get back to sleep. But the sleep would not return to me. Instead, the rain was overshadowed by fighting somewhere in the house. It was known that the Mikaelson family had its own issues but still; I wished I could yell at them to stop and let me sleep for just a minute longer. 

But all the sleep was pushed away from me when I heard my name being yelled at by a person I had known my whole life. I forced myself up and out of the warm covers and took one deep breath. Talking to my sister was going to be a hell of a screaming match and I was nowhere near being ready for that. 

I put my college pants back on and quickly made sure I was looking at least semi presentable. 

Walking out of the door was a shock just because the first thing I heard was my name being screamed once again by my sister. I didn’t want to see her face full of disappointment and anger that I had become so accustomed to. 

I walked to the first floor trying to find the source of the yelling. 

Also in the living room was my sister Stefan while Kol was lying on a couch, clearly intrigued by the screaming. Klaus meanwhile was sitting in an armchair, but the hybrid didn’t seem as impressed as his brother with the topic at hand. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, walking in and getting everyone's attention. 

Klaus almost jumped off of his chair and came to me taking a hold of my hand as if asking if I was okay. I smiled at him trying to reassure him of my mental state and turned my attention to my sister. My sister who looked disgusted by my closeness with the hybrid. 

“What is going on?” I asked again and walked past Klaus to my sister. 

“You really need to ask what was going on after you let Elijah and Klaus torture Damon and then stabbed him yourself.” 

I knew Elena was going to be upset but still it always hurt to see your only sister, only surviving family being upset by your actions, and your actions only. 

“Oh, calling it torture is a very big overstatement and I’m sure Damon is just fine and recovered from his wounds. And after all you have been there to nurse him back to help, I’m sure.” Elijah said, leaning on a door frame. 

I had to be thankful for Elijah saying something before I could embarrass myself. What I didn’t like was the clear innuendo that my sister was being more intimate with Damon than she should have (not that I had any room to judge how she spends her time). 

Kol let out a laugh enjoying the drama more than anyone should, but judging an immortal vampire was barely my place either. 

“What is it?” I asked as calmly as I did not want to continue bickering. I took my sister’s hand to mine trying to unpack the tension in the room. First, Elena looked at my hand that was holding hers and then turned to look at my face, unsure what to do next. I smiled at her, so dearly wanting to infuse the situation. But she did not respond and lowered her gaze from me. We all waited for a moment in silence.

“We came to take you home…,”  Stefan said, when it was clear that my sister wouldn’t be speaking. 

“Why would I come with you…?” I asked, confused, but I couldn’t pull my hand away from my sister's gentle grip.

My name was whispered so quietly that I almost missed it, before turning to my sister. 

“I- I found Jenna’s ring, you know the one that she promised you. I- I was wondering if you still wanted it…” 

For a quick moment, I didn’t see my sister in front of me. I saw the young girl who was terrified for life and cried silently at our parents' funeral. A young girl who was just as traumatized by her past as I was. She missed them so much, even if she didn’t talk about it with me, but she did miss them. She most likely still blames herself with Jenna’s death, and a clump traveled to my throat and my headache sent needles to my temples. I wanted to sleep, sleep on my own bed and fall into a deep sleep where I couldn’t be woken up by tiny raindrops. 

Another stab went through my head and the bright lights forced my eyes to flutter, trying to be okay with the lighting. 

“Yeah…, I- I would still like it if it’s okay with you.” 

“Of course…,”

“Let me just get my stuff and you know get ready…” I said, before letting go of Elena’s hand and almost ran away back to my safe haven. 

I threw the door open and ran to the small pile that included yesterday's clothing, clothing that was partially covered in Damon’s blood and tears. I bit my lip and turned away from my clothes. 

I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed his clothing for a moment. 

I checked that the door was closed just to be sure, before hesitantly walking to Klaus’s closet. I wanted to be quick for the people downstairs and grab the first t-shirt and sweatpants I could find. 

I pulled my catch against my chest before hearing a low laugh behind me. 

I let out a small squeak out of panic and turned around only to see Klaus leaning on the door frame. For a moment I waited for a teasing comment by the hybrid about seeing me changing. I smiled already waiting for the comment, but it never came. Klaus looked mad and clearly had no time for humor. I let my smile fall and I pressed the pile to my chest, like it could protect me from anything.  

“Is something wrong?” I asked, kind of scared of the reaction I might get from him.  

“Your sister seems nervous…,” Klaus said quietly while walking right in front of me and I couldn’t help but to take an involuntary step back.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, wanting to stay oblivious to the subtext but I saw the anger bubbling under his skin. 

But in my mind, I wanted to scream, for once I had a good feeling about my sister. About the possibility of me not crying myself asleep for a fucking once. That I could have a nice day with my sister. So why, why was Klaus trying to ruin it?  

“Don’t...,” I whispered, warning him of something that I had no power to do.  

“I’m trying to keep you safe, when you clearly cannot do it yourself.”  

I had seen Klaus angry many times before, but not once had that anger been towards me. But now I can understand the reactions that my friends gave when they were the reason for his anger. *

I took another step back until the backs of my knees hit the bed.  

“Maybe she is just scared of being in a house with the man who killed her aunt.” 

I saw immediately that Klaus’s gaze softened. At least he had some sense of understanding to look apologetic. We hadn’t talked about the happenings of the full moon when Klaus had broken his curse and I was more than happy to bury it deep inside of me. I had learned to look at how bad the situation had been in all parts but still it didn’t mean that I didn’t miss my aunt.  

Klaus whispered my name and brought me back to reality with it.  

“I’m sorry, is that what you believe that I might care about your well-being?” Klaus was clearly annoyed by my distrust but still understanding of me wanting to be on my sister's side.  

“I don’t know...,” I admitted and let myself fall on the feather light bed.  

Klaus walked in front of me and pressed his warm hand against my cheek. His touch was so gentle and such a rare sight of kindness. I wanted to melt to his touch, I did melt to his touch. I wanted to kiss him and tell him of all the things I wanted to do.  

A tiny smile got to my lips. 

“If you cannot believe me, let’s say that what I'm about to do was my idea, and my idea alone..., can you accept that?” There was a tiny sense of pleading in his voice and my need to kiss him grew even more.  

“I just don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I whispered, not sure if I was saying yes to the hybrid’s plan. Maybe, it was just a statement without any correlation to anything we had spoken before. 

“No one needs to get hurt… You trust me, don’t you.” 

I looked up to see the gentle face of the man who had committed such horrible acts throughout history. I leaned to his touch. 

“Yeah, I trust you…” I admitted and took his hand to mine, carefully pulling him down to the bed with me. And to my surprise Klaus sat down next to me without a fight. 

“You are so beautiful, love…” Klaus said so quietly that I barely heard him but still his words got a smile to my face. It was nice to know that someone found you pretty, especially when normally you were mostly ignored by the people around you. 

But I had never been too good with telling my feelings to the people that I cared about. Particularly to the people who didn’t need to be around me. 

I didn’t know what to say. Was there an obvious answer to someone calling you pretty? 

So, I leaned in, giving him the time to push away, but he didn’t, letting me kiss him. 

There was no fire in the kiss. Just a gentle kiss, where both parties are scared of scaring the other person away. Like the fear of breaking the surface of the calm ocean that surrounded us. 

I pushed myself closer to him and pressed my hands to his chest slowly giving him the hint of laying down to the bed. Klaus got the hint quickly but wrapped his arms around you and took me to the bed with him. Klaus’s hands went up and down on my body, melting me to his arms. I was basically laying on top of him, trying to not to crush him. I needed to feel more, more of him, more of passion, more of anything that would keep my mind out of the mess of this town and its people.  

Klaus’s hands traveled down my back to my hips, while gently pulling me closer to him. Maybe Klaus felt the same way, maybe he is just as tired as I am. Maybe this is one way that he can feel like in control, like he isn’t just a pawn in someone else’s game.  

Maybe I could make him feel better about... well everything. 

But like so many times before, there was an unnecessary interruption.  

Someone cleared their throat and had to push myself off of Klaus’s touch that I wouldn’t simply ignore the person interrupting us.  

Klaus seemed clearly as bothered by the interruption as me, but still let me get off of him but didn’t bother sitting up as I did.  

But when I looked at the door, I simply wanted to die. Die and crawl to the deepest part of hell where no one could ever find me. Because at the door was standing my sister, who had nothing but bewilderment on her face, and Elijah who seemed to enjoy the situation a lot more than it should be allowed.  

“Hi...;” I said, trying to break the absurd tension but not succeeding as well as I would have hoped.  

“Are you ready to leave...?” I liked to think I knew my sister well, and moments like this proved it. There was a tiniest bit of anger and pain in her eyes. But she still tried to keep it together and I appreciated her for not yelling in front of Klaus and Elijah.  

But I knew what was going to happen.  

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