#who is this lady paint i speak of lmao

[lis-likes-fics]

Music to My Eyes

Pairings: Finnick Odair x deaf!fem!Reader Word Count: 7.5k words Warnings: Mentions of the Games, so killing and death, mentions of trauma, my attempt at writing sign language, pre-Katniss, no Annie... A/N: Hey, everyone! I watched the Hunger Games a few months ago and had a mini obsession and decided to write for it and only now just got half of my fic done. Since it was running as long as it was, I decided to go ahead and split this into two different parts, but I swear the rest of it is being planned and written. Also A/N: Just FYI, anything written in /slants/ is an indication of something being signed because explaining every little sign just does not work. And, also, Hecton Leary is absolutely done by Peter Capaldi in my mind...just in case you need a visual. I was watching a lot of Doctor Who during this so, get ready to see those intense eyebrows all over the place in this, lmao. Also Also A/N: Special thanks to my beta-reader @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen who I will be crediting more bc I literally forgot to last time and she's too amazing for that! Thanks, Vee! 💖

You don't love wearing dresses—especially not extravagant ones like these, more expensive than likely your entire district as a whole. You also don't love parties like these where you have to wear said dresses, surrounded by tons of people generating body heat and stuffing the room full of perfumes and colognes that make your nose and eyes burn. Your feet hurt from the heels your designer paired with your outfit, and the air is active with words and voices that overwhelm your brain with too much information to take.

Having Hecton beside you is a relief at least—not completely lost in a sea of people as he and you communicate with two rich sponsors from District 1 dressed just a slight less dramatic as you but just as exaggerated.

You watch their lips, painted over with bright colors complementing their attire, as they speak to you. "It must be so hard, isn't it?" the woman asks, spending too much time on "so" as she speaks slowly for you to comprehend. You want to roll your eyes. "Flailing about all the time just to get a few words out?"

The man next to her agrees, nodding his head. You can see his throat shift, and you assume he's hummed a response.

Hecton's hands move with skill as he speaks, partly as aid in translation for you but mostly for the performance people are looking for.

You feel like your lips are going to fall off, you can almost feel them twitching at the ends from how long you've been smiling at all these people who don't know anything about you and assume they know everything.

You widen your smile to show teeth and shake your head, continuing to be as respectful as you can with your social tolerance running low.

Your hands move and, out of the corner of your eye, you can see Hecton speaking as they do. "Not really," he translates. "It's natural for me."

The man puts a hand over his heart and turns to her. "Oh, you poor thing," he says rather dramatically. Hecton doesn't dignify his words by translating that for you—not that you needed it in the first place. His hands remain still, folded in front of him. The man glances toward them, and you can see his brief disappointment at his words not receiving the glory of illustration.

You glance up at Hecton, your smile intact as you slightly squint the corners of your eyes in a silent plea. He answers you gracefully, turning his attention back to the fashionable vultures in front of him.

"This was wonderful," he says, "but I believe our little lady is excited to meet other guests here tonight."

Hecton is an older man with grey hair, pale eyes, and intense brows. Upon looking at him, he isn't the most approachable man. You don't just say no to him—especially as a past victor of the Games who certainly triumphed by a long-shot. He is not weakened by age, but he's definitely wisened by it. Although sobered by surviving the horrors of the Games, it neither slowed nor ruined his life, it simply gave an abrupt end to what little childhood people of Districts like yours can obtain.

One look at the finality on his face and they were fully ready to end their (rather insulting) conversation. They turn to one another, making these awful pity-faces as they hold each other's hands and turn back to heartily agree. "Of course." She puts too much emphasis on the words. "Goodbye, dear."

You nod gently and look toward Hecton for confirmation as he places a hand on your back and turns with you. You both walk away from the conversation gratefully, still smiling for everyone else in the room but moving your hands in silent conversation.

/These people are exhausting,/ you complain, entirely within your right with the way they treat you.

Hecton sighs, looking at you with eyes that understand your struggle. /Just keep them happy./

You nod, remaining light-hearted for both your sakes as you offer a genuine smile before you slip back into a customer service front. /I know, I know./

Lots of eyes are on you tonight, but none so keen as a certain boy across the room. He has basically been watching you all night, intrigued by the way you've been communicating, by the way you draw so much attention without having spoken a single word since you arrived.

He has seen you around a few times—on television, at other parties. He knows your face and that you won the Games like him, but he's never paid enough attention to actually know anything past that. But now, observing you all night, he's interested enough to ask.

His elbow brushes the guy next to him, a victor from another district he doesn't care to specify right now. "Who is that again?" he asks, not taking his eyes off of you as his friend turns to look. "I've seen her a couple times, never remember."

He looks at you and then back at him. "Her?" he gestures vaguely toward you. He nods.

"Victor from District 10, she won the 67th Games." He takes a sip from his drink, leaning back against a table with a hand in his pocket. "Surprised everyone cause she," he shrugged, "can't hear or something."

That definitely caught his attention as he turned full bodied toward him. "Really?"

"Yeah," he swirled his drink around. "She's nice…in a little bunny sort of way." It's not necessarily an insult, more than it is him calling you soft-hearted and skittish.

He walks away without a word, finally making his way toward you to quell his curiosity as he approaches you and takes his sweet time about it.

Your back is turned to him. He briefly wonders the best way to get your attention on the way over, knowing you hate being tapped by the way your shoulders flinch and you strain a smile when you turn.

Then again, no one likes tapping.

When he reaches you, he just folds his hands behind his back and smiles. "Hello," he says simply. Hecton turns at the greeting, prompting you to do the same.

"I'm Finnick. Finnick Odair," he greets with a smile of his own as he regards the both of you. He watches the way the old man's hand moves on his name. Your hand reaches out and interrupts him as you place a gentle palm on top of his. He makes a face—it's not annoyed, just teasing.

You turn back to Finnick, your performance smiling still intact. Hecton speaks while you sign. For a moment, Finnick thinks he'll understand the movements you make—Mags doesn't speak, she has to use her hands to communicate all the time, surely it couldn't be that different—but he is proven wrong when words don't match waves.

"I know who you are. You won the 65th Games, you're from District 4." Finnick thinks, briefly, that your friend's voice doesn't match you at all (which is obvious, of course, but he feels it's worth pointing out).

"Well, then," he responds with a slight chuckle, only glancing for a moment at the way Hecton's hands move as he talks, "I'm flattered you know me. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for you…"

You seem surprised by that. He thinks it may have something to do with the way that you haven't had many moments away from conversation since you arrived. Everyone has been too taken by you, too interested in snatching a few minutes.

Your hands don't start moving in that curious way Finnick likes to watch because words are already being spoken. "Mr. Odair, this is Y/N Y/L/N. I am her mentor and translator, Hecton Leary."

Finnick holds out a hand, which each of you shake. Out of courtesy, he doesn't start talking again until after your hands are free. "Wonderful to meet you both. And, please, Finnick is fine. There's no need for formalities when we could be friends, right?"

You still smile as you begin to sign, though your brows furrow. /Why exactly do I want to be your friend?/

Finnick doesn't understand, looking at Hecton for translation. He only says your name, a sort of reprimand as he continues to smile.

/I'm only being honest./

Where you expected frustration from not understanding, you find amusement in Finnick's eyes as his genuine smile widens and he looks between the both of you. "What am I missing?"

Hecton looks at you, raising a large brow and waiting for your reply. You sigh gently and shake your head, remaining civil as you begin to sign.

"Sorry," he speaks for you. "I look forward to establishing friendship with another fellow Victor. Maybe one day we'll…" Hecton gets quiet as he just watches your hands continue to move and your lips continue to smile, full of amusement.

/We'll frolic in the woods together, holding hands and singing songs./

Hecton turns full body to you. He holds his palms apart and brings them together swiftly without clapping them. /Y/N./

You smile wider and hold your hands in surrender, the tiny sound of a giggle slipping out of you. You're otherwise silent as your hands fly. /I'm joking! Tell him it was nice to meet him, and I look forward to being friends./

Hecton eyes you momentarily before relenting, turning back to Finnick with exasperation. "She says it was a pleasure meeting you, and she looks forward to your friendship."

Finnick raises his brows, bowing his head gently. "The pleasure is all mine." He's a charmer, and he makes that clear by reaching out and slowly, softly taking your hand in his (his grasp is so gentle that you could easily take your hand back if you wanted and he wouldn't stop you). He bends forward, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. He straightens his spine and watches you fondly. "Until we meet again."

As he lets go of your hand, he bows his head once more before he walks away. You and Hecton watch him leave. He raises his own brow at you. "Is that blush I see?"

Your hands are quick and exaggerated as you move them. You know he's joking and you're not blushing, but his teasing makes you. /No!/

Hecton's smile is wide and open and you know he's laughing at you, so you call him out for being mean. He drops it just as quickly, once the joke has faded to a funny memory and you both are back to mingling with people who do not care about you.

~

The halls are empty this late in the night. Everyone has retired to their rooms or taken an early train home. It's peaceful, wandering the halls this late and being undisturbed by curious eyes and ears watching you like some wild animal. You enjoy the silence—the physical silence of steady air and only one set of footsteps to track instead of hundreds.

At the end of the hall you wander now is the elevator that takes you to your level. Hecton will be wondering where you are—and if not, it's probably time for you to retire for the night before the victor's interviews with Lucky tomorrow anyway. As you make your way toward it, the lights bright and beckoning, you stop in front of it and click the door button.

It's as the doors are sliding open that you realize you're no longer alone in the dead of this night. You feel it in the prickle of your skin, the change in the weight of the floor beneath you. You look over quickly where the side of your face heats with a new presence.

You see Finnick approaching you, seemingly pleased to see you as he smiles at you, stopping short of the doors to offer you first entry. You grin hesitantly, your confidence from before waning a little with the absence of your mentor and translator. If he tries to talk to you, you're probably going to have a rough night. You press the tenth floor button. He presses the fourth.

Finnick isn't as pessimistic, glancing at you out of the corner of your eyes as you stand with your fingers tangled and your eyes toward the ground. You don't look nearly as cocky this time around—in fact, you seem nervous, refusing to even give him that small, awkward smile you usually receive when stuck in a space next to someone you don't know.

Finnick licks his lips, and speaks before he can correct himself. "Hello," he says, giving you a charming smile before immediately remembering your certain disability.

His curiosity grows when you raise your head, glancing his way but not quite committing.

"Oh, right," he mumbles. His added words spark your attention once more as you finally look at him, moving your hand in a talking motion.

"Yeah," he responds. "How did you know?" You're deaf, but you could tell that he was speaking without even looking at him?

He watches you think for a moment, staring off to try and figure out a way to tell him without Hecton to aid you. You look at him again, raising a hand palm down and shaking it.

"Shaking?" he guesses, raising a confused brow.

You gestured around the elevator, your face etched in concentration, determined to be understood. You sometimes forget how hard communication can actually be for you.

"The room?" he tries. "The room is shaking?"

You make a face, one that says "not quite".

He thinks for a moment, putting your gestures together before it dawns on him. "The air is moving."

You smile, far too happy to have successfully gotten a point across.

Finnick's brows raise, though not in a mocking or upset way. "Is everything really that sensitive for you?"

'It has to be,' you want to say, but you can't. You can read lips, but moving your own to try and copy them is a completely different story. Instead, you just nod and agree.

"I heard that's how you won the Games," he said, before adding on the end with a genuinely impressed smile. "Very cool, by the way." He had spent an embarrassing amount of time—or it would be embarrassing if he actually cared about that—asking party comers about you. Most of the information he got was about the Games, always about the Games. He got the same answers from just about everyone about how you were just so sweet and how it was so inspiring how your lack of hearing helped you to win.

As much as that sweet grin on your face made you want to smile, he wasn't technically right. So you shook your head, and he watched you raise your hands to cover your eyes.

"You were blind?" he wonders, but that doesn't make any sense and he doesn't feel very smart for asking now.

You shake your head and do it again, this time pulling your hands away and then covering your face again.

"You hid," he answers. That makes more sense.

You nod and he hums.

You didn't win the Hunger Games by killing for being killed, you didn't win by joining alliances or traveling in groups and pairs. You won the Games by running and hiding until everyone had killed each other.

When the Gamemakers used their tricks and schemes to flush you out of your hiding places, you found another one to lay low until the end. Yes, there were times when you had to fight for your life, but you were no strong competitor. It was dumb luck that you won. Right up to the end, facing off with the almost-champion after having been hunted down by Mutts. He killed them, and then he tried to kill you.

And that was when your disability was labeled your greatest weapon.

Maybe one day you'll be able to tell him that.

The doors slid open to reveal Finnick's floor. You both linger there in the elevator for a moment, trying to decide what to do from there.

Truly, you should have just waved at him and let the doors close to take you to your own floor. It was late already, you needed to rest.

But…

"Do you like sweets?"

Yes, you do.

You nod, answering his charming smile with a shy one and being upset with yourself in the back of your mind for falling for his obvious charm. If you got hurt, it was on you and no one else. But who cares?

You, you care. Maybe not enough, though.

You follow him off the elevator and into the common room. The kitchen is just off of it, with a long table cleared of dinner but still adorned with snacks—fruits and a few deserts. Finnick slides over a plate of cookies as you take a seat. They're chocolate and very good.

He sits across from you, a little too keen in the way he leans forward. He picks up a cookie between his thumb and forefinger, playing with it absent-mindedly as he speaks.

"Is that," he waves one hand, "usually how you communicate?" He hopes he doesn't sound offensive and takes a bite from his cookie.

You don't seem offended as you shrug. He watches you move your hand like you're grasping a pen, shifting it around in a circle. He understands and, like a dog, goes to grab the supplies for you, dropping his cookie back on the table with little to no regard. He's not necessarily upset about his obedience, if anything, he's happy to let you boss him around—not that you have been—if it means quenching his genuine curiosity with how you operate.

He slides you a notebook as he reclaims his seat, gently slapping a pen on top with a cheeky grin. He seems proud of himself. You hold in your chuckle as you write with the best handwriting you can with the quickness of your scribbles.

/Signing or writing./

Finnick reads it off. He thinks your handwriting is pretty.

"Does it get tiring?" he asks, cookie forgotten in crumbs on the counter. He absent-mindedly pushes it to the side so he can lean closer. "Moving your hands like that all the time?"

His question is one you get often, a repeated question every person asks to suit their shallow interest in you. But you can't bring yourself to be offended or annoyed. Finnick doesn't seem shallow, his curiosity runs deep and his kindness deeper. You're not sure you could take anything he says with offense.

You simply shake your head. /Easy as it is for you to talk,/ you answer honestly, adding the gesture for "speak" at the end to try to be helpful.

He shouldn't be impressed, but he is. "Oh," he says, brows raised in vivid interest. "Is it easy to learn?"

He's full of questions. He knows he probably sounds like a child, piling them on top of each other like tidal waves. But you don't seem upset, so he carries on.

You shrug again.

/Would not know. Depends on person./ You look up at him, and then you add, /You want to learn?/

The way you write is interesting to him. You don't do it in full sentences in an effort to keep it short and simple. But you also don't use contractions, though you try to write as quickly as possible to keep up the feel and consistency of actually speaking.

He smiles slyly and pretends to be shy about it, bowing his head and looking up at you through pretty lashes. "Maybe," he says. "Could you teach me?"

You mirror his expression, bowing your chin toward your chest and smiling at him. /Maybe./

You finish your cookie and rip off the first page to turn to another. He watches you write out the alphabet, quickly scribbling a very poor illustration of a hand gesture underneath each one. It takes a while, longer than you wished for it to.

Finnick doesn't mind. While you're distracted with the activity at hand, he's watching you. You're very pretty, he thinks. With the way you sit to draw, you keep your body open and give yourself the room you need to still see him as you work.

You've got kind eyes. He doesn't think you get that enough. Everyone calls you a sweet girl, but they usually follow it up with something along the lines of "even with her issue".

But Finnick just thinks you're pretty and kind. That's it. No exceptions.

He wants to learn about you without the tainting of word-of-mouth or television programs. He wants to know you. The stuff you love, the stuff you hate, everything that makes you happy, and the stuff that makes you want to throw chairs. He wants to know what your favorite color is, if you like to dance or paint or swim.

Before he can keep daydreaming about whether you like cats or dogs, you look up at him to show off your work. You think it's sloppy. He thinks you did great.

You start going through it with him, showing him the hand signs as you get to them with a patience that amazes him. Once you've gone through the whole of it once, he lifts his own hand to try it out. He looks weird and silly, and you smile as he tries his best.

When he offers a poor attempt at a 'Q', a giggle manages to slip. You probably don't hear it, but Finnick certainly does. His face lights up at the sound. He had heard you make little more than a sigh. Managing to pull a giggle out of you—especially one as pretty as that? It's like winning the lottery.

He goes through it with you a couple more times before he straightens his spine. "So…"

He points to his chest and holds his hand out, slowly moving it to fit the gestures he's tried.

F. I. N. N. I. C. K.

You nod quickly, beaming from ear to ear at how quickly he's picked it up already. You point to yourself and spell your own name out. You move slowly, giving him time to connect each letter to each sign as you go. And when you finish, he spells it himself. A nearly perfect copy, (although perfect may be generous, he's definitely trying and it shows—that's perfect enough in your book).

You carefully tear the page out and set it to the side so he can still see and write excitedly on the next page, your writing almost terrible with how quickly you scribble. /Natural!/

You sign the word after. He copies you, and then tries to spell it out. He gets it right for the most part—even though you're pretty sure you saw him use an 'X' instead of an 'R'.

He really wants to impress you. He doesn't make that subtle, and you're honestly happy he doesn't. It makes you genuinely giddy, the way he's so eager to learn and show off his new skill (a skill he's literally been practicing for no more than ten minutes). You don't realize how far onto the table you've learned. Your hands would brush if you moved them an inch closer.

"I'll keep at it," he replies genuinely at your proud smile. He had no idea someone so silent could be so pleasantly loud. Your ecstatic movements and wide grins compensate for your lack of vocalization. When you speak through your hands or the notebook in front of you, he almost swears he can hear a voice he hasn't heard in place of it, so kind and pretty. Like a song.

You smile too fondly at him, taking in a soft breath before looking down at your hands and sitting back again. You'd gotten ahead of yourself. You don't correct it as much as you should. You're just as fond as you sit correctly in your seat and watch him with intense interest.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you pick up your pen again. He watches you write something down. You turn the book around for him to see.

/Mentor cannot speak?/

"Mags?" he wonders. You nod, tilting your head. "No."

You write again. /Cannot sign?/

"No."

You tilt your head and furrow your brows, a silent inquiry. He shrugs, "Never learned."

You contemplate for a moment, rubbing your neck gently before taking the notepad once more. You show it to him.

/Can teach./ You point to yourself, offering a small grin.

"Really?" he furrows his brow.

You shrug. Why not?

Finnick stares at you a moment, searching your eyes for a joke he knows he won't find. So why would you be so open to helping her? Maybe you're just weird.

His lips curl in a smile. "I'll ask her."

Your own smile grows.

He drums his fingers on the table, watching you watching him. He thinks for a moment, just staring, before he opens his mouth.

"So obviously, you can read lips." You nod. "Were you born deaf?"

You nod and reach for the notepad once again. It takes you a moment to write this time. /Parents did not find out til 2. Was a quiet kid. Did not realize until I never started speaking./

He's so interested in everything you tell him. He hangs onto your every word like pure gold. "So you've never heard anything before? Ever?"

He feels like it's a dumb question. Of course not. But you hesitate, glancing off before you nod.

/Yes./

His eyes go wide with wonder. "How?" He crosses his arms and leans forward on the table.

You thought for another moment, trying to find the best way to phrase it to keep it simple. You tap the pen against your lips and click click click it.

/Before the 67th Games, my team gifted me hearing aids. Thought it would help./ You pull away for him to read, staring at the page before taking it and adding in a new line, /Didn't think I'd make it deaf./

The look on your face told him how much that bothered you—or, at least, a whisper of how much it used to bother you. He thinks you may be used to it by now…

"Seemed to work, huh?" he asks with a slight chuckle in an attempt to brighten your mood again.

But you shake your head as you pull the notepad back. /When Games started, too much. Ripped them out and ran./ You sigh gently, swallowing thickly. /Couldn't handle it./

He listens in, his full attention heeding your words. "So you never wear them?"

You shake your head. /Do not like to./

He nods gently. "Because it hurt?" he asks, trying to understand.

You think for a moment before raising your hand and shaking it like before, meaning a different thing this time. /Kind of,/ you write.

You sigh and raise your hands, loosely clawed in front of you as you bring them into your chest in fists. Then you pick up your pen to translate. /Trust me?/

He nods. "Yeah."

/Sure?/

His second nod is more firm. "Yes."

He watches you grab a hand towel. You lift it up, gesturing to him with it and he nods his approval once again. You step behind him and tie it around his head to cover his eyes.

After you blindfold him, sure that he no longer has sight, you turn off all the lights and spin him around a couple times before you lead him into the living room.

Without his sight, Finnick is reduced to having to let you lead him where you want him. And he trusts you. He sways on his feet for a moment, standing still when you stop guiding him again.

"Can I look now?" he asks, his hands out by his side blindly if not for anything but balance.

He hears your voice, the slight sound of you clearing your throat before humming gently, like you're feeling for it. Then he hears your broken response, unaccustomed to actually speaking.

"N-o," you mumble. He smiles a little, and you think he's weird—in a good way.

After a moment of silence where the both of you just stand there and do nothing, he feels you begin to remove the towel from his face. You don't give him a chance to adjust to the dark, you just flip the closest light on and let him have it.

He winces, shielding his face as the shock sets in. You smile gently as you apologize, rubbing your fist over your chest in a circle. When his eyes adjust to the light once more to look at you, your smile is still a fond apology as you motion to your ears.

He breathes lightly. “That’s what it felt like for you?” You make a “bigger” motion with your hands as you nod. “That’s awful,” he mumbles.

You shrug as you begin to walk back to the dining table to grab your pen and notepad again. As you take a seat on the sofa, you bring your legs up under you and invite him to sit beside you. He watches you write something as you prop the notepad against your thighs. You show it to him when you finish.

/What do you like to do?/

He is happy to answer as he settles back and thinks for a moment before offering his reply. You sit and talk back and forth for a long time. You don’t really keep track as you learn that Finnick loves to swim and he dabbles in cooking when he can. You learn that he likes the color blue, but his favorite color is probably white. You learn that he is a “live life like it’s your last day” type of person because of his experience with the games (a philosophy you have adopted yourself in a smaller intensity). You learn that he’s more fond of the quiet than the rowdy crowds he’s grown accustomed to.

Finnick learns that you also like the water, but you enjoy sitting under the surface and feeling like the world is just as silent as you in a way that isn’t so interesting to the rest of the world. He learns that you don’t have a favorite color but you always say green, that you’re not a people person but everyone thinks you’re a person who loves people, and that you like to watch Hecton play the guitar while he lets you set your hand on the body of it to feel what he plays.

You don’t know when you fall asleep on the couch, laying against the back of it with your head turned toward the large, cushy pillow that supports your head. You’re curled up against it, and Finnick thinks you look precious. He’s not long after you as he dozes off on the couch. Neither of you touch at all, hands to yourself as you let the night ease on around you. But the presence is comfortable enough, you’re happy for it.

But sometime in the night, you don’t know when, how long the passage of time had gotten to be, the calm that had set over you slowly began to fade and slip into something a little more unnerving. Uneasiness sets in your bones, makes you queasy as your fingers twitch. You hum, a groan that slips from between your lips and rouses Finnick as he opens his eyes and glances your way, eyes still heavy with sleep.

He starts to sit up as he sees you shift, your breath quickened and your muscles twitching. He calls your name gently, a first instinct he immediately realizes isn’t going to work. He hears you hum again and begins to reach a hand out. His fingers hardly brush the skin of your arm when your eyes suddenly open. You’re muttering something intelligible to yourself as you glance around frantically, eyes glazed over and movements full of adrenaline.

“Woah, you’re good,” he tries as you grip the cushions on the couch. It’s too warm and it’s cushy and you don’t want to be up there anymore. He’s still trying to ease you, hands out like you’re a frightened animal ready to attack him. You slide off the couch and onto the floor, where the cold hardwood greets your skin as you catch your breath, your face tucked between your arms as your whole body heaves for air.

He lets you stay there, concern written all over his face as he tries to figure out what the issue is. He guesses they’re just nightmares, bad, ugly nightmares that he, himself, has faced over and over and over again. He waits and waits and waits for your body to steady and for your breath to calm, keeping his hands out but away as he waits for you to recover.

When you’ve calmed down again, you lift your head and sit back against the floor, turning toward him with lethargic muscles, your adrenaline already waning as the exhaustion from before trumps everything else. You catch the movement of Finnick’s lips from out of the corner of your eye and turn to see him speak. “What’s wrong?”

You breathe in slowly, filling your whole chest as you gather yourself enough to answer. You stroke a circle over your chest with your fist, a movement he remembers seeing you do earlier when you were apologizing to him. He shakes his head gently, slowly shifting off of the couch to join you on the floor, giving you space as he props his elbow on the cushion.

“S’okay,” he says, his lips moving gently around the word. “What happened?”

You breathe out slowly, still centering yourself. You lean toward the table, sliding the notepad over with lazy movements. You contemplate before writing. /Vibrations./ You show it to him and he tilts his head. /I sleep with my hand on the floor. It lets me know if someone is coming, I can feel the footsteps in the ground. It wakes me up and keeps me out of trouble./

The way you write is different now, filling the missing blanks of words you’d usually leave out because they were unnecessary. Like you’re too tired to summarize, letting the words do their job as you slump against the table like you haven’t slept in ages and are simply going through the motions.

He moves slowly, letting you see what’s happening before it happens as he sets his hand atop your own on the table. You don’t move, glancing at his hand and letting it happen as his skin brushes yours. He feels honored.

“Well,” he says, “you’re safe here.” With me.

You manage to pull the corners of your lips up into a small smile, turning your hand so his rests in your palm. You raise your free hand to your chin. /Thank you./ You take a moment to sit there, looking at each other and enjoying the feelings of your hand in the other’s. Then you pull your hand away regretfully and pick up your pen.

/I should get back to my floor before my people worry./

He reads it off and nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighs, already moving to stand to his feet as he holds his hand out to help you, hoping you would accept. When you do, he smiles. You lift yourself to your feet and give him another of your best in this condition.

You pick up the notepad one more time. /Thank you for the sweets. And for the company. I liked talking with you./

He puts a hand to his heart, too heartfelt to be teasing as he dips his head slightly. “My pleasure.”

Finnick walks with you to the elevator, standing by you in silence after the button is pressed as you both wait for the doors to slide open. When they do, you step in and offer yet another warm smile as you sigh and wave, mouthing the word “bye” as you depart from him, sad to go. He mouths the word back to you, though you’re not positive he spoke them as he offers a small wave of his own.

The doors shut and Finnick misses you already.

~

The blaring lights, (otherwise) deafening crowds, and extravagant costumes are something you get used to and never get used to all at once. All the attention is on you, and it's your job to make sure they are entertained as you make your way onto the stage with Hecton's at your side.

Lucky is standing, that unnervingly large grin tearing his face in two as he watches you excitedly. His hand is extended toward you, both to show you off and welcome you in.

"Hello, my dear!" he exclaims theatrically as he takes your hand. He places a kiss to your knuckles and then shakes Hecton's hand as well. You all take your seats, your smile the picture of thrilled.

"It's been a while since we have last spoken, hasn't it?" He stops dramatically and then says, "Well, a while since I spoke to you, at least." The air is on the fritz with cheers and laughter and more clapping as you look around at everyone. Lucky's laughter is just as wide. "How have you been, Y/N?"

You look at Hecton, your smile and his set in perfection. He speaks as you sign, beginning his role as your ultimate translator. "I've been great, Lucky. I've missed you!"

His big brows furrow as he slaps a hand over his heart. He turns to the adoring fans. "Oh, isn't that sweet?" He laughs again and looks back at you, his expression calmer but no less dramatic. "I have also missed you, my dear. Now, tell me, this is a tour for some of our previous victors, have you met any of them yet?" He leans in like you're sharing a secret.

"I'm glad you asked, I have. It's been great getting to be reacquainted with old friends and making new ones."

"Ooo," he says, looking around and encouraging the crowd to join in. "New ones like who?" He sits up straight and brings a finger to his lips, glancing away and smiling slyly. "I know I have it from a reliable source that you were mingling with District 4 Champion, Finnick Odair." He leans forward with narrowed eyes. "Do I sense something blossoming?"

He and the crowd tease you, making lovey dovey noises that you don't hear but definitely feel as you glance at Hecton and he raises his thick brows in amusement.

"Oh, Lucky," you smile like you'll laugh as Hecton continues to read your hands. "I wish I could agree, but who am I to say?" You shrug it off with a sigh.

"Oh, really?" he jabs. "Because when I brought it up with Finnick, I believe he described you as 'a special kind of beauty'." This riles the crowd up even more, they cheer louder and the air feels suffocating. You smile through it.

"Did he now?"

"He did."

Lucky laughs dramatically, Hecton laughs less dramatically, and the crowd eats right out of the palm of your hands.

"Well," Hecton says as you catch the attention again, "you know I'm not one to gossip."

"Ohh, not just this once?" He says it like he'll cry.

"I wish I could."

He sighs heavily. "Oh, well." The crowds 'aww's and you give an apologetic smile to them all. Lucky leans over and takes your hand in his, which you then cover with your own. "It has been lovely catching up with you, my dear. And you, too, Hecton, my friend." Hecton nods. "I hope to see you again soon, both of you—I do so love our talks!"

"As do I, Lucky. As do I."

He puts both hands over his chest this time, smiling with sadness to see you go. "Would you give us a kiss before you go?"

You stand to face the crowd and kiss your hand, blowing it out to them as they scream and shout for you. You beam and look at them all, waving happily.

"Oh, fantastic!" Lucky exclaims as he stands to join your side, Hecton at the other. He takes one of your hands again. "It is always a pleasure."

"The pleasure is all mine."

He turns to the adoring audience. "Our Silent Spectacle, everybody!"

They scream and shout and you press your cheeks to Lucky's before you and Hecton leave the stage. Even after you're past the curtain where they can no longer see you, you keep the smile as wide as you can until it trembles out of place.

/Very well done, Y/N,/ Hecton congratulates.

You huff out a tiring breath, massaging your cheeks before regaining your posture and masking your frown with a much softer smile as you respond. /It's exhausting./

He offers a sympathetic look. /Maybe so, but they love it./ He glances at you again, noticing the fatigue in your eyes and your twitching lips, the nerves kicking from overuse. He sighs, taking your hand and turning you to him.

/You've got to keep them happy./

You look at him, how his words reflected a deeper worry, a double meaning that surpasses the gratification of your adoring crowds. Your eyes glue to his own, solemn, sober—a fair contrast from the faces surrounding you, drunk on the sap of their own self-importance.

/I know,/ you nod.

The tense moment is interrupted as a new player enters the arena. Hecton is the one to turn first, redirecting your attention toward the person approaching you. You immediately smile, an instinct by this point as you turn your gaze on your next audience. It only takes a moment for you to recognize the person, and your smile comes a little easier.

Seeing the situation before he approaches, Finnick wonders whether or not it would be appropriate to interrupt. But when your mentor turns and you turn with him, and you smile a more genuine smile upon seeing him, he finds that he doesn't really care if it's appropriate right now.

"You're quite the personality," he says as he steps up, smiling himself as he tilts his head.

"They love quiet, happy girls," Hecton translates as you sign. Finnick really doesn't think his voice suits you, coarse and thick with an accent hard to find.

"That, they do," he nods. He licks his bottom lip, "So you'll be headed back off today?"

You turn toward Hecton, your jaw clenching briefly before you turn back. "Soon. I've got some business tonight and then we'll be off tomorrow."

"Business?" he raises a curious brow, taking a small step forward as his lips quirked. "What kind of business?"

You tilt your chin, a nervous kind of smile on your lips as you move a hooked finger from your nose to your cupped hand. "Nosey," you tease, though Hecton speaks it flatly.

"Oh, it's a secret?" he wonders, even more curious now. He doesn't speak like a creep as he continues, holding that same teasing feeling while also offering his genuine curiosity. "I have a thing for secrets, y'know. I can keep it safe for you…"

You do it again, with a little more delight this time. Again, Hecton's translation holds no ounce of the delight you give off as you talk to Finnick. "Nosey," he repeats, this time with a little more sternness to get him to stop asking. You give him a side glance, but he isn't affected.

Before you can communicate anything else, Hecton's sets his hand on your lower back. It isn't patronizing, he's just used to guiding you, your protector.

"Come now, Y/N," he says. "It's time we were off."

You sigh gently but nod, still smiling as you glanced up at him. You begin to wave to Finnick, but he speaks as you're waving your hand.

"Am I free to visit down in District 10?" he asks, his tone light and playful to avoid sounding as hopeful as he feels. He's just met you, and he wants to know you.

You nod quickly, too eager. You move two fingers over your fist, missing the way Hecton doesn't translate. But Finnick can figure that one out himself.

His chest floods with relief. "I'll keep it in mind."

You wave. /Goodbye, Finnick./ The way you sign his name is different. Where he is expecting to see the familiar letters you showed him last night, he finds a wave of your hands and a fond smile.

He winks at you. "Goodbye, sweetcheeks."

You scrunch your nose, circling your hand over your belly. /Gross./

Hecton is already walking you away as Finnick blows you a cheesy kiss, mirroring the one you'd done for the audience earlier. You wave him off, smiling and shaking your head as you go.

When you're far enough from him, walking away from backstage to wherever you were headed now, Hecton's intense brows are furrowed in what you can only assume is annoyance at his distrust in Finnick.

/You seemed familiar./

/Stop./

Music to My Eyes taglist: ... This is a temporary taglist for those who want to be tagged in the sequel to Music to My Eyes, Finnick Odair x Reader. Please keep in mind that once the second part is posted, the tag will disappear. Feel free to DM, comment, or send me an ask to be added, if you would like. Or simply add yourself here...

[tteokdoroki]

You said Victorian ladies making butter and all I can think about is Bakugou putting you into the butter churner sex position👀

smut mdni. gn!reader + butter churner position hehe.

- mentions of nipple tweaking, no pronouns or other anatomy described, and lord!bakugou and not historically accurate sorry !! <3 thank u miss jo for the shitpost turned thirst LMAO

ok so imagine bakugou but a lord from like the victorian era— destined to take over his parents estate and valuables as the eldest and singular son of the family but only on the condition that he marries of status. has children to keep the lineage going. bakugou cares for his family’s honour, but doesn’t for his suitor. she’s sweet, would make the perfect wife and child bearer— except she’s got no aspirations or wit or drive and the blonde isn’t in love with her. oh no.

he’s in love with you, the simple scullery staff who longs to the see the world by his side. so he really can’t help it, sneaking away from the small gathering his parents host for the new in-laws and for the bride to be— slipping away from the glitz and the glamour to fuck you stupid in the manor’s pantry.

“you really are just a spiteful little slut, aren’t ya?” the blonde snarls from above you, pushing your thighs further over your shoulders until your feet dangle either side of your head. katsuki sits on top of your folded body, thick cock plunging in and out of your soaked little hole as it creams and clenched around him. “just couldn’t help ya-self,” he slurs around the saliva on his tongue, gaze laser focused on the way you suck him in.

your body jolts with every thrust, chin tucked into your chest so that you can hardly breathe— your own saliva trailing down it as you take everything lord bakugou gives you. you are spiteful, you didn’t like the way his bride, katsuki’s future wife had been looking at him— touching what was rightfully yours despite the differences in status. all you’d done was spill her tiger’s milk cocktail on that stupid little rich girl dress of hers, retreating to the kitchens with a faux look of apology. desperate for your secret lover to follow.

and he did, happily wrecking your sloppy sex as punishment.

bakugou’s quite literally churning up your guts, directly on top of you— tip hitting all the right spots with every jut of bakugou’s hips downwards into yours. “ain’t you s’pposed answer when your master speaks t’you?” gone is his formal dialect as he ruins you through and through, your juices splashing up from your heat to paint his toned stomach— half heartedly exposed from how his attire is caught between his teeth.

blood rushes to your head, carrying waves of sex tinted ecstasy as bakugou’s balls slap hard against your ass— you have no idea how he expects you to form words between his swirling hips and calculated and forceful thrusts. “‘m-m sorry!” you cry out, mouth hanging open only to be gifted with a fat glob of spit from your lover. “p-please, my lord.” you pant and stick your tongue out to show him that you’ve swallowed.

“you’re not even fuckin’ sorry, y’just as selfish as this nasty hole of yers,” bakugou grunts at you, biting down on his own lip— seconds away from bursting and filling your tight sex up with all his seed. “a lowly fuckin’ servant who’d do anythin’ for their master’s cock, huh? to have me deep in their guts, creamin’ their insides,” he drawls hungrily, punctuating each of his words with curses and taps of his leaky tip against your pulsating hole before you’re cumming around him in a mix of twitches and muffled yelps— painting him with your release as a sinister smirk spreading across katsuki’s swollen lips.

“well lucky for you, you’re the only slut i want on my cock. you got that?”

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - a Ted Nivison x Reader.

!! This is Chapter 3! Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 can be found here! If you'd like to be here for the next part, ask to be added to my taglist! It'd be my pleasure ♡ !!

{{-Story Description: You're a youtuber with a fairly decent following deciding to help your good friend Tanner with a minor film project, with you set as the leading lady. When the actor for the male lead is a no show, Ted takes up the role himself. One problem: This short film's a Rom Com, and you just met the guy.-}}

//18+, Def gonna be some smut. Reader is implied to be afab, under 5'5 and has specifically named friends, all who have no real connection to Ted.

This story will be in multiple chapters. Also gonna post this on Wattpad and Ao3 (when I figure them out LMAO) under the same username: ObsessiveStarla. Hope you enjoy :^)\\

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@k-k0129

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Word count: 3.5k

Chapter 3: My Eyes Are Up Here

The first day of shooting the film finally came and went. We had spent most of that afternoon figuring out what every character's wardrobe would be like and making sure everything on set looked good on camera. If any furniture needed to be moved, we moved it. Paintings were taken down or added, blinds were closed or left open, overrall it felt like the first day was about preperation. While I had thought we'd get at least some filming done on the first day, it actually worked out well. It gave Ted an entire day to go over the script with Tanner, and Joe the entire day to play the role of my father, demanding I stay away from bad boy Ted. I mean that sarcastically. Mostly sarcastically.

The plot of the film is almost similar to our real lives: We're supposed to be a bunch of adults out of college trying to hold on to our youth while spending their last summer together at some...summer house. There's a few extras that are meant to be playing our friends, but the main focus is on the relationship of Ted and I; our characters, I mean. At the end of the first day, everyone part of the film crew leave to sleep at their own accommodations except 5 of us. Ted, Myself, Tanner, Joe and another member of the editing team, though I don't learn his name tonight as he spends the entirety of it in his assigned bedroom. Joe had offered to get me a separate Airbnb when he realized I was the only one staying here that didn't identify as a guy, but I'm not uncomfortable with these arrangements. I have a lock for my assigned bedroom if need be, but I have no reason to distrust anyone else that will be spending the next 3 weeks living here.

The first night passes with no problems from anybody, except from Ted. He started knocking on my wall around 12am. Took a good couple minutes and a quick Google search to realize the fuckass was knocking 'cunt' in Morse code. He stopped shortly after I messaged him a picture of my middle finger being held up at the same wall.

The next morning i'm involved in a few scenes with some of the extras first so I can get a real feel for being on camera in this light, which also gives Ted time to read over the script in another room. In the film, my name is supposed to be Kara, and he's Mason. Tanner picked simple names. Ted looks like he could be named 'Mason'. The scenes go by fairly quickly, doing the necessary repeats to get multiple takes and angles, standard procedure when filming. I find myself to be quite a natural at this sort of thing. Other than the occasional stammer, I'm able to speak my lines and act the part with little to no difficulty. No bloopers just yet.

Next thing I know, morning turns into noon and we're having to move outside to take advantage of the last bit of full sunshine we'll have for the day, including Ted, who will finally be joining me in front of the camera. Like Ted had explained yesterday, we'd been filming a lot of the scenes out of order, this one included. At this point in the story, several days have passed, and our characters have already shared their first kiss, so our chemistry needs to be on point to make it believable. We need to act like there are some real, lingering feelings for one another while keeping it subtle. It was actually challenges like this that made me agree to take the leading lady role. I could've easily been one of the extras and only have a page or two to read off of, but I wanted to explore true acting, not just pretending.

I can't say I'm inherently a romantic. I'm certainly intrigued by how romance in film was handled decade's ago compared to now and I'd absolutely invest myself into a romantic comedy of the 90's or 2000's if one was turned on in front of me, but I didn't sign up for this to play pretend with a handsome guy. I want to explore the trials and tribulations of this cheesy kind of storytelling I'm a sucker for. I want to see if I'm capable of bringing chemistry into one scene, then slipping it into my pocket for the next as if it were never out there.

My thoughts are cut by Tanner and Ted meeting me and the rest of the crew outside, with the script still in Ted's hand. He's still in the white t-shirt they fitted him with yesterday, changing his slacks into some dark blue jeans. He looked pretty good in jeans.

"Okay, so we wanna get some establishing shots.." Tanner explained to us, Ted moving to come stand beside me. "We're gonna get some of the extras to toss around a football and sort of...run around, get some shots of them playing. You two are gonna go stand over by that post and just...talk..." He pauses on that last word, as if to really emphasize it. "Just talk?" Ted repeats, raising both of his brows with a smile. "I don't like the way you hesitated there, my good man."

"No, I mean--"

"I feel like you're trying to imply something, good sir."

"Yeah, Tanner. He can talk to the 'pretty lady'." I pitch in with a knowing smirk, getting a look from Ted. "We won't need an intimacy coach just yet."

"No, I get it.." Tanner chuckles slightly. "What I was trying to say is now might be a good time to talk about what your 'tell' is going to be, if you can't think of anything to talk about."

I furrow my brows in confusion, silently looking to Ted for an idea of what that is. He looks equally confused. "Our 'tell'?" I ask.

"Yeah, for when you have to kiss." Tanner replies, pointing at Ted and I. "We can't just count down from three and shout at you. It has to feel natural, so if you have a tell, a non-verbal way of signaling that one of you is going in for it, it makes it...realistic and saves up some time."

I suppose the way Tanner explained it make sense. It makes me think back on a moment in Stranger Things. There's a scene at the end of Season 2 where everyone's dancing, and you can just barely see Finn Wolfhard's mouth move before he goes in for a kiss. He had mouthed 'I'm coming in' or something like that to Millie and it's noticable in the final shot they went with. Tanner wanting to avoid that is completely valid.

"OK. No problem." Ted was the first to agree with a casual shrug, turning to look at me. I give a quiet little nod in return. "Where should we go stand?"

"Just over there would be perfect." Tanner pointed over by the large empty flagpole in the distance, a bit farther away from the rest of the extras. "I'll just be a little more to the left with the film crew, I'll give you a. O.K. signal just before we start filming so you know when to start and I'll shout 'cut' when we're done."

"Sounds good to me. Let's go." Ted beckoned me to follow, heading towards the flagpole.

I'm walking somewhat behind Ted, blushing a little to myself as I take in just how much taller he is than me. He's definitely at least a foot taller, maybe more. I'm only noticing it now. I wonder how tall he is?

"It's 6."

I stop walking for about a second, almost wondering if Ted had somehow read my mind. "What?"

"It's 6 kisses. I counted."

"O-Oh." I giggle a little to myself, crossing my arms over each other to rub them with my hands. "You counted them? Did you even read the script?"

"Better than you did! How do you over count kissing?"

"I counted 7!"

"You added one in, you fuckhead."

"Why the fuck would I add one in? What, you think I was enticing you with an extra kiss, asshole?!" I move up a bit to stand beside him as we walk, just so I can playfully nudge his arm. "I counted 7!"

"You fucking wish, princess."

"Ooghh, you fucking wiiiish!..." I start to mock Ted's strong voice again. "You're projecting. Maybe you under-counted."

"How about you under-count how cute you think you are, huh?" Ted snickered to himself, nudging me back a little harder. "We're supposed to want to smooch it up more once we get to this pole, I need to be able to stay in character."

"That sounds like a you problem. I can stay in character, even with your headass."

"I am going to stick you up on that fucking flagpole, princess. One more."

"Stick--" I pause and close my mouth, resisting the urge to burst out laughing. "Stick deez nuts down your throat."

Ted and I erupt into laughter, almost getting a little hysterical. I leaned forward and hugged my stomach while Ted flung his head back. I'm sure at least some of the others could hear us, our laughter was practically echoing out. We knew we had to come down from our laughing fit when we reached the flagpole, letting out a few more cackles and giggles. I lean back against the large flagpole, it's wide enough for me to push all my weight on it without shifting one way or another. From here, we can see that Tanner was still talking to the film crew as they mess with their large cameras. I'm having to squint and raise my hand up to cover them from the sun's bright, harsh rays, though I smile to myself. I'm glad I agreed to help with this.

"How much longer, do you think?" I ask Ted, watching as Tanner moved over to a different cameraman. Before Ted can answer me, I see Tanner turn to us and raise his arm up high. I can just barely make out the O.K. symbol he's doing with his hand. Next thing I know, the sun's rays are no longer over me. Did some clouds move over it, or...?

I turn my body, only to stiffen it up against the flagpole, almost like I'm trying to push my body into it. Ted is now completely towering over me, only being held up by his forearm resting above my head against the pole. He's crossed his legs somewhat, so if he were to remove his arm, all of his weight would come crashing down on me. "You feelin' alright there, (Y/N)?" Ted's grinning like an absolute winner, keeping his dark brown eyes on me as he removes his round glasses and rests them atop his head. I feel like his eyes could be replaced with the red laser of a sniper, and I'd be just as tense.

"Wh-Why are you--"

"Ohhh, nothing sassy to say now, eh? Where's more deez nuts jokes, hm? Where's being an annoying little cunt?"

Before I can create a coherent response, I feel another one of his hands move closer to me. Ted rests his hand right on my forehead. "You're burnin' up, princess. Did you pack some sunscreen? Gettin' real red over here.."

Something about the way he's bullying me is making my stomach twist. His tone, his words, his smile....

I try to turn my head away to get his hand off my forehead. It works, but his hand moved down to the side of my chin, gently pushing it to the side to make me face him once more.

"My eyes are up here, baby."

I glare daggers right back at him. I can't tell if he's actually flirting or if he's just fucking with me 'cause of yesterday. Both are plausible.

"Y'know this isn't helping your case." I collect my composure enough to speak plainly.

"What case?" He asks with a snicker.

"The case where you don't think I'm a pretty lady."

"I don't. Tanner said I need to act like I'm into you, so I'm acting like I'm into you."

"You're a terrible actor."

"I act for a living."

"You make YouTube videos for a living."

"Well, I'm good at pretending to like you, so.."

Ted's earthy orbs linger on me as he removes his hand from my chin. I'm not sure what I'm feeling at this moment. Is it embarrassment? Is it uncomfortable? Am I...intrigued? Interested, even? The way he speaks to me, it's just...

"Sh-Shouldn't we be discussing what our tell is going to be?"

"St-St-St-Stammerin' up a storm over here.." Ted mocks my stutter, his confident grin becoming even more annoying to me.

"You're not funny.." As the words leave me, I realize I've been smiling a little at him.

"What, and you are?"

"I mean it! I--"

"Woww, you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, princess? All that knockin' bothered you?"

"I'm gonna knock you into this fucking pole if you don't shush. I meant about the tell." A chuckle escapes me. "He's gonna want to know what we've come up with. Any ideas?"

Ted let's out a gentle sigh, finally pulling back to stand beside me against the pole instead. I feel like I can breathe properly again. "It's gotta be subtle, yeah?" Ted asks, crossing his arms. "I believe the term Tanner used was 'non-verbal', but yes." I cackle a little. Tanner has a certain way of speaking that's rather amusing. He's one of those friends that are naturally funny, whether he's intending to be or not. "Something that, if picked up on camera, would make sense in the moment.."

"Like a wink?" Ted asks. I turn my head to him, watching as he gives the most non-subtle wink I'd ever seen a man give me. A chuckle leaves me. "More subtle...like..." Thoughts about how the kissing scenes are shot wander through my mind, where the camera may be at any given moment, whether or not there will be a close up. It needs to be as non-verbal as possible; the most subtle way a person can signal to another that they want to kiss them.

"...Like...a quick look at the lips."

"Like a quick little one-two?" Ted asks, moving his eyes from my lips to my eyes to give me a physical demonstration.

"Yeah. I'm sure people do that when they're about to kiss someone."

"You're 'sure'?" Ted's smile drops, his change in expression suggesting he's nervous. "Oh man, don't tell me I'm about to be your first kiss.."

"Oh fuck you! I've had my first kiss! I'm in my 20's!" I laugh at him, watching as he let's out a sigh of relief. "I've had several kisses with several other boys, thanks!"

"Wowww, okay, first of all, kissin' the bro's is different." Ted points his finger at me, trying to appear serious with his lips tucked in a bit. "Second of all, boys? I'll have you know you'll be kissing a MAN, (Y/N). A fully grown 26 year old man!"

"What happened to the 'man' that was supposed to put me up on the flagpole, hm?"

"I basically already did, and you turned into a tomato."

"My feet didn't even leave the ground."

"Were you expecting me to pick you up? Cause I can do that!"

"Oh please, looks like the heaviest thing you ever carried was a Tuba."

"Okay, fuck you, I was in theater, but I can throw a mean ball and could absolutely carry you."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely."

"Try it."

Ted raises a curious brow at me and turns his body towards me once more. For a moment, I thought I saw his eyes wander downward, but our moment is interrupted by a shout, though it's not from Tanner. Right before my eyes, like time moved way faster than I was ready for, Ted had moved around me to stand in front of me to catch a fast-moving football. His back was close to me, in fact, this was the closest he's been to me so far. Though for only a brief moment, I could feel his white shirt slightly caress the tip of my nose as the wind blew. He smelled like...pine trees.

"Dude!" Ted shouted at the extras as he threw the football back. He may not have been a jock in high school, but his form was pretty good.

His. His football form. Y'know, like, not--not his--

I think that football would've hit me if Ted hadn't reacted as fast as he did.

"Jesus..." Ted huffed before turning to me again. He noticed how tense I had gotten, reaching to touch my arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't back up into you, did I? You alright?"

"I-I'm alright.." I managed to mutter back. It was odd hearing his voice sound so concerned for me. Up until now, most if not all of our interactions had been full of sarcastic, tyrannical but overall light-hearted jabs at each other, but in this very moment, I realized we may have unintentionally developed something here. I'm not saying it's necessarily romantic, but...there's a tension building up between us. It's not just in my head, is it? Does he feel it too? Is that why he's?...

"That...works too." Tanner catches up with us, alongside the man that had thrown the football. I didn't even realize they had been approaching us.

"What, did you plan that?" Ted turns to Tanner, sounding quite frustrated with him. "That could've hit her."

"Dude, I'm so sorry, I messed up my throw..." The man next to Tanner spoke with a genuine frown. "I-I meant to throw it higher up and hit the pole, the sun blocked my view. It's my fault."

"No, I told Dan to throw it, I'm sorry." Tanner speaks up as well, his hands resting on his hips nonchalantly. "I've been shouting at you two for, like, a good minute. I thought it would've been funny if Dan hit the pole.."

Ted and I are silent. Oh fuck. How long have they been trying to get our attention? How did we not hear them? I can tell Ted still isn't satisfied with the answer. Angry wasn't a good look for him, I don't think it's a good look for anyone.

"We need to buy you a whistle.." I manage to get out a joke, smiling to show everyone that I wasn't upset. I knew Tanner hadn't meant for anyone to get hurt. He probably trusted this 'Dan' to make the shot. Tanner wouldn't hurt a fly. He /would/ hurt a spider, though. He hates those things. "Yeah. Clearly." Tanner chuckles slightly, slipping his hands into his shorts pockets. "I'm really sorry."

"I'm okay, Tanner. Teddy's got me." I move away from the flagpole to place my arm on Ted's shoulder, leaning against it somewhat. I think my attempts at showing him I was OK finally worked, watching as he looks down at me with a friendly scoff. "I should've let it smack you in your stupid face." He remarks, finally bringing some of the tension from that altercation down. "Maybe, but at least I believe you now." I smile at Ted, moving my hand off his shoulder. Dan apologizes one last time before moving to rejoin the extras. Tanner let's us know that we'll be moving back inside to check on the shots before returning to the cameramen to help pack up. Ted and I start walking back to the house, though he pauses for a moment.

"What do you mean you 'believe me now'?" He asks, furrowing his brows while smiling. "Believe what?"

I give him a cutsey smile and reply simply.

"That you could carry me."

I walk a bit ahead of him, feeling the weight of my cheeks from how wide I'm smiling to myself. I hear a quiet scoff from Ted, though the rest of the walk is quiet.

After a few minutes of packing up and walking, we all return inside to look over the footage and set up for other scenes the extras will be filming. Now is the time we let Tanner know that we've figured out what our 'tell' is going to be. I look over at Joseph in the meantime, who's across the living room helping an extra with adjusting their outfit. As Ted explains the idea, Joe shoots me a look, furrowing his brows like I had just disobeyed a direct order. I return the look with a shrug. He's just going to have to deal with it. Tanner absolutely loved the idea, said it would add 'real intimacy' to a scene if he caught it on camera.

I suppose that's it, then. If I'm ever going in for a kiss, I'll look at Ted's lips to let him know.

__________________________________

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 ||

[youremyheaven]

"he really knew how to speak sensually without ever being creepy or vulgar"

The love bombing is one thing but if this happens I'd say the person is quite experienced lmao coz think about it the majority of men here seem to be into vulgar, sexual jokes right in the beginning idk what they're trying to prove but its the biggest turn off to me. (atleast what I noticed in India)

Then you have a guy who doesn't do that but still sounds sexy suspicious!!! Because ofc usne iss desh ka pani piya hai 😃

Also I'm a dog lover but if he looks like a boxer he probably is a boxer 😂🤪

he never said anything about banging me or anything which Ik it's bare minimum but hamare desh ke ladke toh 🤧standards karab kar diya pura ka pura

He sent me Raja Ravi Varma paintings I reminded him of 😭😭😭 and there are some sensual ones (like a lady lying down on a couch with a saree ??? loosely draped??) but that's what I mean, he was poetic and sensual, he only complimented my beauty, never made creepy sex related comments and I guess it's the Mercury + Venus influence because he was soooo smooth and spoke so beautifully ngl 😍✨

I still don't feel like he's a major asshole or anything, he doesn't give me bad person vibes but I also definitely think he's a bit of a womanizer, not in a fuckboy way, he's kinda shy and introverted for that but in a "I'll drool over any hot girl" type of way.

I went through his following and 90% of them are those IG models which made me feel super 🤨but most of them follow him back??? 💀💀 so i was like ?? I guess he's friends with manyyy attractive women 🤨But yeah he likes to look at women for sure and it kind of gave me the ick because my ideal type of man has an IG account that has 3 posts, 500 followers, 200 following (no IG models, bikini models etc only people he knows irl 🤪)

He just acted too good to be true. Who TF sends your own pictures to you and says "I want to wake up next to this every day for the rest of my life" DAYYYS after we start talking 💀💀💀 yeah we've known each other for 10yrs (more like "known of" and HE knew ME but I didn't know him) but still??? Like his love bombing was too intense to be ignored??? Main itni bhi stupid nahi hoon ,, no one is going to find saccha pyaar like this 🤧 so fast

I meant boxer like WWE types 😭not the dog 😭but this is kutta behaviour only

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

FOUND FAMILY LUCY & THE GHOUL SUPREMACYYYY!!! your fic is perfect in every way… a shining beacon of light in these dark times. idk if you’re going to write a long story with them or anything but i fucking love your mind and already know i wld be eager to read whatever you might write about them <3 !!

thank you! i'm a found family bitch til the day i die, i simply cannot help it. i am technically working on a full length fic with them, but i'm not sure if/when i'll ever string it all together into something coherent lmao

but hey, here's a scene in the meantime!

-

About halfway through their journey to Las Vegas, nearly perfectly sandwiched between a week’s worth of miserable walking to the west and another week’s worth of miserable walking to the east, they stumbled upon a small town in the middle of the desert that called itself Delta. There was a sign and everything—a really old one with faded grayish lettering on faded reddish stone, all of it bearing more than a few well-worn cracks. But there was also a painted sun on it, half a shining sun rising above the town’s name like it was just peeking over to say hello, and that sun was almost still yellow.

Someone must have cared enough to maintain it, she thought, even just a little, and something about that felt important.

Lucy never bothered mentioning any of this to her companion, of course. He probably would have blown it off as nothing if she did, especially if his standoffishness ever since they entered the town was any indication.

Speaking of which.

She shifted, turning over onto her side on the twin bed she’d rented for the night—a real bed, and after so many nights of sleeping in the sand, she wasn’t even turned off by the musty smell of these sheets—and she wound her arm underneath the poorly stuffed pillow for some extra support, looking across the little motel room. He was still sitting up on his own bed, one knee bent up and his gun propped up against his thigh, and he was still looking at the door.

When she moved, though, it did get his attention. He glanced in her direction and frowned, as if to ask, What the hell are you looking at?

“You know,” she said, before he could say that out loud or tell her to go to sleep, “we’re not in the middle of the desert anymore.”

“Is that right? ‘Cause I could’ve sworn—”

“We’re not out in the open in the middle of the desert anymore,” she cut him off, rolling her eyes. “I’m just saying, we don’t really have to take turns sleeping tonight. We’ve got a door. With a lock. You could actually go to sleep, too.”

“Mm,” was all he said to that, and he returned his focus to the door.

Lucy sighed, and she rolled over onto her back, frowning at the ceiling. She really didn’t know what his issue was. This town was actually nice. Don’t get her wrong, it wasn’t like anyone had rolled out a red carpet for them and sprinkled flower petals at their feet, but no one here had shot at them, no one had tried to steal from them, no one had even said anything particularly mean to them. The woman who owned this motel—a lady named Josie who might have been fifty or might have been a very healthy ninety for all Lucy could tell—had barely even spared either of them a second glance, let alone turned him away for being a ghoul, and they were even allowed to bring Dogmeat into the room with them for an extra ten caps.

She folded her hands over her stomach and tucked her toes under Dogmeat’s side. Dogmeat didn’t seem to mind; she just let out a soft groan, stretching her legs out and settling back down with a sigh.

“Not everyone is trying to kill us,” Lucy said. “I know a lot of people are, but not everyone is.”

“Is that right.”

“Yes! Some people really do just want to help others. There are good samaritans out there. Just because you don’t see them very often doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“You wanna bet on that?”

“Yeah, actually. I will.”

“Go on, then. What’s your startin’ bid?”

She thought about that for a moment. She was certain that she was right about this, but technically, given that they were walking through a desert from one end to the other, they weren’t likely to run into very many people, period, so the odds weren’t exactly in her favor.

Finally, she offered, “One bottle cap.”

He actually huffed a laugh at that, and when she turned her head, she saw half an amused smile on his face. “One whole cap, huh? You better watch yourself. You go making gambles that big and you gon’ be broke as a joke before we even hit Vegas.”

She shrugged, looking back up at the ceiling. “It’s more about the bragging rights than the money anyway.”

“That so?”

“Yep.”

“Well, now, no one here in Delta counts, y’know,” he said, “seeing as we paid ‘em for the help.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair,” she admitted. “But even if they’re only helping us because we paid them, they are helping us. Right? That’s something. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t see any of these people breaking down the door in the middle of the night after that. I don’t even see why they would want to.”

He was quiet for a moment.

He was quiet, actually, for long enough that Lucy felt the need to look at him again. When she did, she found him exactly as he was before, looking straight ahead at the door in exactly the same way he’d been doing since they got to their room over an hour ago. Something had changed just a tiny bit, though—it was in his eyes, like he wasn’t looking at the door so much as he was looking through it. He was thumbing the safety on his gun, though not enough to switch it on, and she wondered if he was only doing it to remind himself that it was off in the first place.

Finally, quietly, he said, “People always got their reasons, Vaultie.”

Lucy blew out a raspberry through her lips and pouted, looking up at the ceiling again.

It was true, of course, that she didn’t know even half of the terrible things that people up on the surface were capable of—actually, no, that wasn’t fair. Not just people on the surface. As it turned out, she didn’t know even half of the terrible things that anyone was capable of, up here braving the radioactive wasteland or tucked safely away in a Vault or anywhere in between.

But even knowing all that, even knowing the sort of terrible things that certain circumstances could drive a person to do, she had to believe that most people still had something altruistic and selfless and good underneath.

Deep underneath, in some cases.

Very, very… very deep underneath.

“Okay,” she conceded, because there was a time and a place for debates about the nature of humanity, and this probably wasn’t it. There was also a certain type of person that it was worth having said debates with, and it almost certainly wasn’t him. She pulled her feet out from underneath Dogmeat, and she turned over, putting her back to the ghoul and his gun and the locked door. “Wake me up in six hours?”

“You know I’m gonna.”

She half-buried her face in the pillow, waiting for the exhaustion of ten-plus hours of walking to finally take her under.

She didn’t have to wait long.

[xxspringmelodyxx]

Love and War~

Hello my lovely readers! I hope you are having a fabulous day and are ready to read because I am happy to introduce to you a new story! This one is a Genshin boys x F. Reader story. There is a lot that will happen and a lot that you are going to find out…but all will be explained in the story. To keep it brief and short, you are Lady Y/n, taken in by and linked to the royal family of Illyria. Your kingdom is in a bloody war with two other kingdoms, and it has been going on for years. You find out that the king has come up with a plan to stop this war…or at least that’s what he has told you. You quickly find out the truth behind this ‘plan’ of his and need to figure out a way to stop him before he makes things worse for you and future generations! Along the way you find new people…and potentially new love interests…but out of everything, will you be able to stop destruction before it happens? Who knows…

Was that a good summary? I sure hope so, lmao. Anyways, I’m going to let you read the first chapter. Again, I am always open for constructive criticism to help my stories sound better and easier to read! Let me know if you have any suggestions, and if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this story, just lmk! Okay, I’ll shut up now! Enjoy~

_________

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: A bit of swearing but nothing else I think <3

_________

Ch. I

I walked through the town, enjoying how quiet and calm it was. The sun was just barely above the horizon, painting the sky with a gorgeous golden shade, blending in beautifully with the blue. The rays hit the grass blades perfectly, allowing them to brighten up and even sparkle a bit from the dew forming. I walked in front of some of the shops surrounding me, looking for one shop in particular. A few “hellos” were exchanged as I walked by the owners getting ready to open their shops up. I turned a corner and within an instant, the smell of fresh bread shot up my nostrils, almost making my mouth water. 

The corners of my mouth slightly raised as I walked towards the bread and cake shop, ready to buy as much as I could. 

And there it was, a small wooden stand with tons of bags of bread and cakes, all freshly made from a bakery further out of the town. They were all beautifully displayed, all with different ingredients, designs, and even colors. 

“Ah, there’s my favorite customer! How are you, my dear?” An elderly voice said, making me look to my side. There, I see Mr. Yoshiba, a frail and short man with the biggest smile on his face. He felt his way towards me, trying to come into contact with my hand. I softly reached for it and held it, helping him across the shop.

“I am doing well, Mr. Yoshiba, thank you. How are you doing?” I asked

“Oh, I’m doing just fine, dear. I’m assuming you’ve come here to buy some bread, eh?” He asked

I nodded, my stomach quietly growling.

“Oh my, your stomach is waiting to be fed! We can’t let that go on for much longer now, can we?”

“How did you even hear that? It was so quiet?” I asked, chuckling.

“Ms. L/n, I’m blind, but I’m not deaf. I can hear almost anything from a mile away!” He said with confidence.

“Only when you want to. If grandmother was speaking to you, your hearing miraculously goes away.” Another male voice was heard. I smiled as I instantly recognized his soothing voice.

I turned my head to the left and saw Thoma walking out of the carriage, arms full of bread.

“Hello, Lady Y/n.” He said with a soft smile. I rolled my eyes, walking over to him and helping him take the bread to their respective areas.

“You know I hate it when you call me that.” 

“Yeah, but it's funny to see your face crinkle up like that when I do.” He teased, placing the bread in the bins.

I playfully punched him in the shoulder, making him fake cry.

“Oh, why must you abuse me? What ever have I done to make you so hurtful?” He said, wrapping his arms tightly around me, squeezing me as hard as he could.

“Thoma! Let me go!” I said as he lifted me up off the ground.

“Not until you say sorry.” He said.

“Sorry for what?” I said, trying to breathe.

“For punching me!”

“No way! It was a light punch! You wouldn’t even bruise with that!”

“A punch is a punch.” He said, squeezing me tighter. I let out a small squeak as he did that.

“Okay, okay, fine! I’m sorry! Now let me go! I can barely breathe!” I said, making him smirk.

He let me go, carefully placing me back down on the ground.

“There. See, now was that so hard?” He said, booping my nose.

“You're a real pain in the ass sometimes, you know that?” I said, seeing his smirk become wider.

“Yes, but I’m your pain in the ass.” He said, turning on his feet to put some cakes away.

“Oh, leave her alone, Thoma! You keep acting like that, and you will never get her to be your girlfrien-”

“O-Oh Grandpa, I think there is some mold on the bread over there!” Thoma interrupted Mr. Yoshiba, a light red hue slowly forming on his cheeks.

Mr. Yoshiba quickly turned around, freaking out that there was mold on his bread.

“How could this happen?! You must’ve done this, Thoma!” he said, feeling his way over to his newly made bread.

“Me? I helped grandma bake the cakes. You were the one who made the bread this time.” He replied

“No, no. You should’ve covered them better when putting them in the bags!” Yoshiba said

“Grandpa, there isn’t even mold on the bread!”

“Then why did you say there was?!”

“Because you were going to say something I would’ve regretted!”

“You would’ve regretted?”

“Yes! Because you are an old, annoying man sometimes!” Thoma said

“Oh now you’ve done it! Get over here!” Yoshiba said, grabbing his table cloth and hitting Thoma

“Ouch! Grandpa! Knock it off!”

“I may be old, buddy, but I still have the strength of a stallion!” Yoshiba said, continuing to hit Thoma with the cloth.

I chuckled at the two, smiling at their bickering. They were like two children sometimes.

Suddenly, a new voice was heard, making the hairs on my neck stand up. He was the new captain of the Illyrian knights.

“Lady Y/n.” He said, looking down at me from his horse. The whole area suddenly became dead silent. Mr. Yoshiba and Thoma paused as they watched the man get off his horse. I turned around to see the long, blond haired man. He was a bit taller than me, maybe by an inch or so. His hair was tied back into a long braid that reached the end of his back, and he had bright, golden eyes that were dull with no life in them whatsoever.

“Aether. What can I do for you?” I said politely, not letting his demeanor affect me. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but the king has requested for you to come back. There is an important discussion that he wishes to announce to you and the rest of the family.” He said, making me frown

“He can’t just announce it to his family? What difference does it make if I am there? He hardly treats me like family anyways, so just tell him he can do it without me.” I said, turning back to Thoma. However, Aether grabbed my wrist and turned me back to face him

“Lady Y/n, I insist that you go. It involves the possibility of ending the ongoing war between us, the Kingdom of Inazuma, and the Kingdom of Liyue.” he said, making my eyes widen just a bit. 

A chance of reuniting with the other kingdoms? A chance to bring peace between everyone so that innocent people no longer have to die? Oh how happy father would have been to see that. Seeing people from all kingdoms working together rather than against each other. Seeing new families formed from the ending of the war. Seeing new life come from the death of the war. It sounds amazing!

“Lady Y/n?” Aether asked, bringing me out of my own little world. I looked up at him and nodded

“Alright, I will go. But let me buy something first, I am starving!” I said

“There is no time. Plus, there is food already waiting for you.” Aether said, pulling you with him onto his horse, taking you to the kingdom.

“Hey!” I said with frustration towards Aether. I looked back at Thoma seeing him watch me ride away. I frowned towards him, waving goodbye. 

“You know, you could’ve at least let me say goodbye to Thoma and Mr. Yoshiba.” I complained, but Aether just ignored me. It was like that for the rest of the ride there. Complete silence.

–

“Ah, Y/n, you’ve made it. And just on time as well! Please, have a seat.” The king said with a smile, pointing towards a chair on the opposite side of him and my mother. I looked and saw that my sister was there as well, grinning widely and almost…sinisterly. Odd.

I took a seat, allowing myself to get situated. 

Aether pushed my chair in and walked out of the room, closing the large doors behind him.

“As I’m sure you’ve heard from Aether, we have come up with a plan to reunite our kingdom with the others to hopefully end this bloody battle that has been going on for years. It will take time, but I am positive that it will work.” He said, clenching his fist as he thought of his bright plan.

“Okay…so what is it?” I asked

“You see, your sister is a very beautiful girl. She's got her looks, her smarts, her talents-all thanks to yours truly of course.” He interrupted himself, filling himself with pride. I rolled my eyes, growing tired of him already. It was barely 8 in the morning, and he was already filling his head with nonsense.

“I don’t know. Personally, I think she gets it from our mother.” I said, trying to deflate his ego.

He glared at me, not amused with what I said. 

“Y/n.” My mother spoke up with what sounded to be a bit of fear in her voice.

I looked towards her to see her shake her head in disapproval. 

I sighed softly and leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over each other.

There was a bit of silence between all four of us for a couple of seconds before the almighty King of Illyria spoke once again.

“As I was saying, your sister has many charming characteristics. A great many that I feel would be vital to help our kingdom.” He said, smiling towards his daughter.

“Okay, and? How is that going to help?” I said, losing my patience with him.

“It will help because your sister is going to be marrying one of the princes.” He said, making my eyebrows furrow. Zelina marrying one of the princes? 

I mean, it could work. Zelina is a very pretty woman and she he knows how to act polite…notice I used the word “act”. While Zelina may be very pretty, her personality altogether is horrid. She constantly yells at the maids and chefs for not doing their job perfectly. For instance, Constance, one of our long-time maids, had accidentally dropped a cup on the ground because she was already holding too many items for one person to hold. When Zelina saw what happened, she almost fired the poor woman. Thankfully, mother reasoned with her and got Constance out of being fired. Although she was still punished for it. 

She also yells at the chefs when the food is too hot…or if it's too cold. It’s like she can’t be happy for just one second without finding something to complain about. 

Sure, she can act like the woman of every man's dream for a while, but I wonder…how long would she be able to keep that act up. Marrying someone, especially a prince for that matter, will take time. You have to first learn who they are; you have to make sure you both agree on certain ideas, learn what makes them tick, etc. But most importantly, you have to gain their trust. That all together could take many months to even years to do. 

Anyone in their right mind could see that Zelina needs to work on her temper, but they will only figure that out once she really shows who she really is. 

“So, who is she going to marry?” I ask, curious as to who is the “lucky” guy.

“We haven’t decided that yet. I have spoken with the other kings, and I have learned that Prince Ayato of Inazuma will be visiting the Kingdom of Liyue in a few days. The King of Liyue has agreed to let Zelina into the realm during that time so she can get to know the kings better all in one area. Once Zelina gets a good idea of each prince, only then will she decide who it is she is marrying.”

“Just out of curiosity…what happens when she chooses her prince? What happens to the others?”

“What do you mean?” The king asked

“Suppose she chooses Prince Ayato from the Kingdom of Inazuma…what happens to the princes from Liyue? Would they not be heartbroken that she chose another man over them? Would that not lead to more conflicts between our kingdom and theirs?” I asked

The king's smile slowly faded away, quickly being replaced with a frown. His hands clasped together, tightening as he tried to come up with an answer.

“You don’t need to worry about that, dear. We have a plan…a good one at that. Trust me. By the time Zelina is finished with this plan, there will no longer be a war between any of the kingdoms.”

I gave him a questioning look, not sure how to feel with his answer. There was something behind that statement…something sinister…like he was hiding something.

And I am going to figure it out.

–

After the short meeting, I walked out of the room with even more concern than I had going in. Something wasn’t right. I could see it in the king's eyes as well as my sister's eyes. 

I walked through the halls, not paying an ounce of attention to my whereabouts. Suddenly, my body ran into something…or rather someone…bringing me back to reality. It was Constance with a few dishes in her hands…well at least they were in her hands before we bumped into each other. 

My eyes widened as I saw the plates slowly falling. My instincts kicked in quickly and I moved my hands just in time to catch them all before they fell and shattered on the ground. 

“Oh, thank you, Lady Y/n! Thank you!” She said with relief. I smiled as I handed her the plates back.

“Don’t worry about it. It was my fault…I should’ve been paying more attention to where I was going. Sorry about that.” I replied

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize Lady Y/n-”

“Constance, please stop calling me that. You know I hate that title.” I said, interrupting her.

“But I am required to do so. Failing to comply with the rules could get me in trouble.” She said, making me shake my head.

“Only if that person is a part of the royal family.”

“But are you not a part of the royal family? You are the king's daughter-” She asked, pushing up her glasses with her free hand as they were beginning to fall down her nose.

“No! The king is not my father, and he will never be my father! My father was killed-” I started, quickly shutting up as I realized I was raising my voice louder than expected.

I sighed for the umpteenth time today, calming myself down. She didn’t know…no one did…well except for Thoma and his family…and of course the king, my mother, and my sister.

“I am terribly sorry for raising my voice at you. I was out of line.” I said, feeling down all of a sudden.

“Lady Y/n…I am sorry if I have offended you. I thought-”

“Don’t apologize. You have no reason to be sorry.” I said, walking past her

“Lady Y/n! Is everything alright?” She asked as she watched me leave. I stopped in my tracks, tears threatening to fall down my face as memories of my father came flooding back to me

“Lady Y/n?”

“Everything is fine, Constance. You do not have to worry about me. It’s a long story anyways…just go back to what you were doing before…please.” I said, wiping a tear that slipped past my eye.

“Of course. Have a good day, Lady Y/n.” Constance said, turning back to where she came from. 

Just as I was about to go back outside, I remembered that I left my coat in the room I previously came out of. And by the looks of it, I am going to need it. The clouds were starting to rush in, signaling that there would be only a few more minutes left before the bright blue sky would be replaced by the rain. Not that I was complaining…I love the rain.

I turned on my heel, walking back to the room I was just in to grab my coat. However, just as I reached the door, I stopped moving as I heard voices behind the door. Voices that could only belong to the King himself and my sister.

“Now, you remember what to do when you get to Liyue.”

“Yes, father. Once I gain the trust of all the princes there, I will attack each of them individually, but carefully. My goal is to aim for Prince Tartaglia first as he is the easiest out of all of them to gain their trust. Then once I assess the other two, I will figure out which one is the next target. I assume it will be Prince Ayato…and finally Prince Zhongli. Then I will assassinate the two kings and take their crowns, allowing the Kingdom of Illyria to be the one and only kingdom left in the country.” She said

My hand covered my mouth as I tried to hide a gasp that escaped from my mouth. I knew it! I knew they were hiding the truth! What’s worse is that their plan could be accomplished. Don’t get me wrong, Zelina is a bitch…but she is a very strong bitch. She has the ability to manipulate darkness, which is something you don’t want to mess with. It was a gift from our mother as she passes down a special ability to each of her offspring to ensure her bloodline continues on. She did it with me as well. The thing is that my ability is the complete opposite of my sisters. I can use sound and convert it into light, doing whatever I so well please. It is a powerful ability that I do not use often…especially after that one incident. I ignored that memory however, trying to focus on the rest of the conversation between my father and my sister.

“‘Good. And you know what will happen if you fail?” He asked with a darker tone

“Y-Yes father. I will lose my crown and everything I own…”

“Including your life.” He finished. My eyes widened even more…if that was even possible.

How could he threaten his own daughter's life? What the hell is wrong with this guy? 

But I already knew the answer to my own question. Greed and pride is what is wrong with him. They are two things that are so great to him that they blind him from reality. They blind him from what's wrong and what's right, merging them together.

“Yes father. I understand…” She said with a fearful tone.

“Good. Now go. The boat will be arriving here tomorrow. You must get your things ready to go so you won’t be late.” He said, waving her off.

“Yes father…” She said, walking towards the door. That was my cue to get the hell out of there. But there was nowhere to hide! All there was, was a long hallway behind me. If Zelina opened the door now and saw me running away, she would know that I heard. 

“Looks like it's time to improvise…” I thought. Instead of hiding, I placed my hand back on the door handle and opened it up, seeing my sister right behind it. It made me jump a little as I didn’t expect her to be there so suddenly. 

She glared at me, trying to see if I had heard anything that just went on. I had to act naturally.

“Woah, what's with the face? I just needed to grab my jacket.” I said, pushing past her.

She stared at me with concern for a bit as she watched me grab my jacket off of the chair I left it on. 

“See? Left it right where I put it. Now can you stop looking at me like I’m some sort of horrendous creature you found on the street?” I said, walking past her and leaving the room.

She rolled her eyes, figuring that I didn’t hear anything, leaving the room as well.

Thankfully, I got out of the hallway before she could catch up to me. I opened up the doors to the outside and ran down the long stairs, rushing to go see Thoma and tell him everything that I just heard. 

Before I could make it out of the area, however, a voice called my name, making me come to an abrupt stop. I turned my head and saw Aether there, walking up towards me. Great, just great!

“I wanted to apologize for forcing you the way I did this morning. I didn't mean any ill will by it. I was just simply following the King's orders-”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. Listen, I gotta go now. I need to something-”

“I just figured I should apologize because I regretted how I acted towards you, and I’m sorry-”

“Aether, it's fine! I forgive you. Now listen, I need to go. Now. I have something important to discuss with-”

“I’m glad you have forgiven me…but I still feel like I need to do something in order to fully show how sorry I am…hmmm.” He said, going off in thought. Oh, for the love of- I can’t deal with this right now!

While he was off in his own world, I quickly but quietly snuck off, getting as far away from him as I could. To be honest, I did feel a little bad leaving him like that, but this was far more important than some little apology.

“Ah, maybe we could go get something to eat! I’ll buy as my way of apologizing-hmm? Y/n? Where did she go?” Aether asked as he looked around for you. 

–

I successfully snuck out and could smell that delicious smell of fresh bread and cakes again. 

I followed it and saw Thoma handing a cake off to an older woman, thanking her for her purchase. I smiled and ran towards him, grabbing his arm. He quickly looked down and saw me, smiling as soon as he did.

“Ah, Lady Y/n, what seems to bring you-”

“Don’t even try that game with me again, mister. Now come on, I have something important to tell you!” I said with excitement.

“But Y/n, I’m working-AH!” He yelled as I pulled him into me, forcing him to run away from the town.

“Hey, you kids, get back here! How am I supposed to sell all this bread by myself?” Mr. Yoshiba yelled, waving his fist at us. 

“Sorry, Mr. Yoshiba! This is important! I’ll make it up to you, though! I promise!” I yelled back, holding Thoma’s hand in mine as we ran out of the town and into our secret hideout.

Thoma couldn’t help but blush a bit at the long-lasting contact, wishing it could be like that forever.

Once you two made it into the forest just outside of Illyria, you both sat down, panting.

“W-Why, did you need to bring me all the way out here, N/n?”

“Because I have some information that I don’t know what to do with. And I need someone's advice. Someone I can trust.” I said, looking up at him as we both sat down.

“Okay…” Thoma said with concern, not sure if was going to like what he was about to hear.

“Get ready, because it is going to blow. Your. Mind!” I said, getting comfortable on the ground.

“Here’s what happened…”

________________________________________________________

Taglist:?

[3dollarbillyalls]

Part two of my experience, for @myfirstlobotomy

In 2015 Limp Bizkit had a huge tour in Russia and I knew I had to be there no matter what. I bought tix to Moscow and Saint-Petersburg shows and soon after they announced the second show in Moscow 🙄 I KNEW I HAD TO BE THERE TOO. So my plan was kinda simple: go to the venue as early as possible and try to ask someone from the crew for a guest-pass. Yes, that’s possible and yes I got it 😏

Anyway, we go back to the meeting… The first one I met was John after he went out of the club to smoke. I asked him to draw something in my memory notebook as I did with Lethal but John first refused and then made a doodle 😂

Also I have a drawing from Fred’s manager Gabe who was kind enough to give me the guest-pass.

Then Fred arrived but I literally forgot how to speak and he left. Then there was Wes, who chuckled when I shouted to him that I had a present (😭). Dw, me and my friend asked Fred’s wife to pass presents to the band. Wes left too. Here I am with John 🥺❤️

After the show Gabe also was giving out picks and drumsticks. He gave me a pick and I asked for a drumstick too (yeah I know, I know…) He responded “I already gave you a pick!”. I said it was for a friend which was then true. He said he’ll give it to me the next time lmao

Also Fred went out after the show and I managed to get a sign, but no photo cuz my phone was dead.

The second show was the next day, I had to wander around the streets for a night because I had nowhere to go (the last bus to the place I stayed was long time gone 🥲). Gabe gave me and a couple of my friends guest-passed, I gave him a bottle of Karelian Balm (alcohol drink made with berries). I remember he opened his backpack looking like I was handing him a pack of drugs 😂😭

Long story short, the second show in Moscow was over too. I managed to catch Kadaver’s (Wes’ guitar tech) kimono they used on the Halloween show. I still have it lol

The Saint-Petersburg show was a month later… *time passes*

Here we go. I had a friend there who already met the band a couple of times and knew people who could help me to do it.

We went to the Hotel, waited there… First time the guys left and I had no chance to meet them and I was already sad.

I wanna make a disclaimer: stalking is bad and I really hate bothering people but I couldn’t help it…

When Wes went out for a walk me and a couple of girls (maybe there were guys too, I don’t remember) followed him. 😭😭😭

He stopped by a lady riding a horse which was a popular tourist attraction in Saint-P. While he petted the horse, we caught him up. I was in the first row right behind him and went completely numb… The man of my dreams was real and standing right here… Dude… My friend was more adjusted to talking to famous people and simply said “excuse me”. Wes turned back. I still remember his eyes when he saw a bunch of fans.

Man was flabbergasted…

Anyway he was kind enough to give signs and take some pics with us. I also asked him to draw something which he did (sorry for the background lmao)

Also I gave him one of his paintings to sign and he seemed happy with it and told something about the style or something… I was too stunned to comprehend English (or anything I guess), so i didn’t understand him neither the first time nor the second one (I asked him to repeat, lmao).

My friend took a pic. Which, thanks to my stupid phone, looked like this:

(This one is edited by my other friend who was like “Wth did you do with your camera dude”)

I tried to get a sign for my friend who got no money to go… “Her bad” Was replied 😭

Then he said bye-bye, gotta go!

We also met his tech and some guys from the crew he was walking with and went back to the hotel to try and get to Fred (didn’t succeed tho).

One “highlight” of that night was the horse lady. I don’t remember why we stopped near her… Maybe it was a coincidence or something but at one moment I felt something heavy on my foot. I looked down and saw a long leg… That fucking horse stepped on my foot 😭😭😭

I yelled “HORSE IS ON MY FOOT” and the lady said angrily “you shouldn’t have touched it then”. I fucking didn’t… The other girl tried to pet the horse and I suffered. What a life, right?

The next day was a show. As always I came to the venue very early. When I saw a bus going to the back door, I ran there. Catch! Fred, Wes and John! I briefly asked Wes for a new photo since the first one was you saw what. He murmured “sure”.

I don’t know what’s with my face, I’m sorry 😂 still better pic than the first.

Fred was taking pics too, I remember that security guy was telling me to get off and I replied to him in English asking for one photo.

Fred heard me.

The same problem with my face but whatever you know 😂

Aso I accidentally photobombed someone’s picture with the band

I look very fashion model, don’t I?

The show was hella great, I remember when I was taking a pic Fred pointed to me… I’ll post this pic separately since I can’t add more here.

Also Gabe finally gave me a drumstick which is still with me since me and the dude I was going to give it to are not friends anymore:)

I also briefly met Sam in 2020, I posted a pic here.

I LOVE THESE MEN TO DEATH ❤️

[sketching-shark]

Given the interpretations of JTTW/Xiyouji - what is your opinion on when media or even solo creators make a romance for Wukong?

Especially since most of Wukong's romances in media end up played for tragedy as well as the fact that from a textbook analysis he seems very no love/no sex/only friendship.

Innocent interpretations for their personal enjoyment or does it feel more harmful to the character of Wukong as a whole and fetishy?

Given Xiyouji and Wukong in general has such an influential swathe over culture/pop culture as a whole and the uh...quite gross mishandling of him at times from Western culture (Ex. Making him some musclebound meathead who only cares for violence which doesn't only devalue his character but the East-Asian view of masculinity as a whole.) or Anime culture. (Ex; making him a 'Yandere' style obsessive partner which may be interesting when played off his previous lifestyle as a Yaoguai - but most of the time isn't and is simply played to be a 'love me or else' danger boyfriend.)

What do you think of it all? Especially with the prevalence of a lot of this stuff propping up due to LMK?

Feel free to read more if you want to watch me complain lmao

Hmmmm OKAY so I do need to preface this by noting that I've now run across a number of retellings/presentations of Sun Wukong composed by eastern creators that made me deeply uncomfortable or even straight-up be like "well I hope I forget that exists forever!" because of the ways in which the monkey king was oversexualized and/or painted into extreme grimdark territory. So it's pretty obvious that western creators aren't unique in some of the ways that Sun Wukong gets flanderized to hell and back.

And while being very much aware that what one sees in the west for free on youtube is a very small sample size of big-budget retellings of Xiyouji, a LOT of those retellings with a Monkey King romance have an incredibly samey plot of "Sun Wukong is a dick-->he encounters some lady and is a dick to her-->she likes him anyway-->he softens up a bit-->she dies-->he's sad-->her death still gives him the powerup needed to defeat the big bad." I know that the angle is tragedy but oh my god at this point the 500 year old text that presents Sun Wukong as a communal grandpa that will do literally anything for his family including challenging the heavens & how this comes back to bite them all in the collective ass BUT they still love each other very much and Sun Wukong never stops fighting for them and doing everything he can to make them happy and safe speaks far more to tragedy that's balanced out with hope & is far more original than many a contemporary retelling in my opinion! tbh i wouldn't be surprised if this was one of the reasons why Monkey King: Hero Is Back became so popular that it basically revived Chinese animation; it's one of those rare retellings that puts the emphasis on dad/protector of children Wukong rather than lover Wukong, and as a result 2015 SWK still seems to have a special place in the hearts of many.

But turning back to western creators in both individual and big-budget productions, I guess my main gripe would have to be not so much that your meathead/yandere/destructive monkey presentations of SWK exist (you'll find such depictions across the globe), but that these often seem to be undeniably the most popular, the most common, and at times the ONLY ways that the Monkey King is understood in the west. As it is eastern countries like China do seem to have their share of such depictions, but there's also a abundance of other understandings/portrayals of the Monkey King, including those of him being a dedicated and quick-witted being, a tireless protector of children, and oh yeah a literal buddha! I've joked before about how hellbent many western creators seem to be in taking the "intelligent" out of "intelligent stone primate," but looking over the ways that SWK is commonly presented in the west...well, can you really say that this isn't the case? Honestly at times SWK really feels like he's become yet another victim of narrative monoculturalization in the west, where one version becomes the Official one and barely anyone deviates from it. Personally I feel it particularly sucks that this Official version seems to have become one where the Monkey King is routinely presented as a destructive idiot whose only worth lies in this weird frenemies relationship to the Six Eared Macaque :( (though I will say it's kind of fascinating how western creators so completely rewrote the True and False Monkey King arc that it's the Six Eared Macaque and not Sun Wukong who's become the definitely preferred individual. Dude finally achieved his goal of replacing the Monkey King lol).

In a number of ways this disparity does make sense. Besides Xiyouji definitely not having the same cultural impact in the west as it does in the east, there's very few decent English translations out there, and even fewer that give due course to the entire story. As far as I'm aware the Anthony C. Yu translation is the only one to do so, and yeah it's understandable that many people wouldn't or couldn't make their way through 1,400+ pages worth of narrative and footnotes. Plus there's the added fact that the east has more traditions of monkeys being understood as tricksters, whereas in the west primates have long been framed as man's poor imitation with ties to the Devil himself, so you can get some sense of why/how SWK's destructive tendencies would be emphasized above all else. Plus it certainly doesn't help that the two(2) primary ways that western audiences are learning about the Monkey King & co. are through cartoony retellings, which are fine in of themselves but when that's the ONLY popular version you have well you are not going to end with a complex or even a positive impression of the Monkey King. And it definitely definitely doesn't help that one of those versions--even while it is a silly lego show--consistently presents Sun Wukong as an absolute failure that basically everyone either has good reason to be mad at or just flat-out hates. And yeah you see this getting emphasized even further in fandom creations a lot, with many a popular fan work being all about how Sun Wukong ruined everything and/or getting yelled at & punched for being a cataclysmic moron. Like hell there's a very good chance I'm not looking hard enough but I don't remember coming across a single piece of recent fan work for Monkie Kid that shows Sun Wukong actually being a good mentor or actively doing something positive. The emphasis is pretty much only ever on his relationship with Macaque, and for that how thoroughly he screwed it up.

So going back to your original question anon, I would say that in it's abstract the idea of giving Sun Wukong a romance isn't inherently a bad thing. It's just that (and maybe it's just me) for a variety of reasons, in both eastern and western creations, in both individual fandom and big-budget works, I've pretty much never seen it done well lmao.

[muchadoaboutnot]

🖋️🖋️🖋️ for neptune eighteen; 🖋️🖋️🖋️ for galina; 🖋️🖋️🖋️ for sable please 💗💖💗🫣

naomiiiiiiiiiiii whenever i see you asking about neptune and galina 🥹🥹🥹🥹 it makes my heart go doki doki. ok also the third secret option of Sable, a guilty pleasure oc lfkajwekr

That's my gorl! That's my fav!!! Neptune!!! The OC that will probably outlast them all!!

I know you asked about Neptune but you can't have Neptune without Pluto. Her one surviving sister who's part of the Midwest BOS but she'll lay down her life for her little sister. They are both big ladies, 6 even except Pluto has one more inch on her sister.

Her speech check is MAXED the fuck out. So if you think you can play her you can't, like she will in fact play herself before she lets anyone else do that to her. So if someone does get the better of her it's because she let them or it was all part of the plan.

That's probably why she likes Yes Man so much because he does everything and she can finally relax. She never shows it, or showed it while on the road to becoming top dog, but she was very, very, very tired and wanted to cry a lot. So to have someone she can rely on so wholeheartedly she feels incredibly grateful.

She flirts and says risque things but she's only truly interested in and loyal to Yes Man when they finally get together. She's never been in love with anyone else, at least romantically or sexually. (Yes she fucked Benny but for the novelty.)

But even just platonically she does not love very much. She's kind and can be nice, but only a few people she has in her heart.

She enjoys bothering her companions. Keeps tabs on them after everything, whether they hate it or love it she'll show up in the nick of time to help them out if they need it.

LMAO GALINA'S STUPID ASS !!! We love a silly cunt!

Let's start off strong by just saying she's very forward in the bedroom. She's told Custis she wants to make him cry while he cums and he looks so sweet while doing it.

Morgan she's not so rough, she lets him do as he pleases a lot of the time. He probably likes it half the time while the other half he dislikes it because he knows she prefers Custis to him.

She has met Emily in Karnaca, and recognized her behind the mask. She's ambivalent at first and they never speak but Galina does not raise any alarm or tell on seeing the other woman. Instead, she just watches what she can see unfold before her.

That means Galina survives the first Dishonored game verse, she left before the plague took hold and stopped everything in Dunwall. And as the years go by she keeps her business going by hopping from island to island and happened to be in Karnaca at the time.

One of her prized possessions is a Sokolov painting. It's of fruit rotting.

She adores shoes and stockings and anything with heels and just beautiful adornments for feet. Although she doesn't have a foot fetish but she has had men suck her toes but it did nothing for her. Just felt it was silly but went along with it. But when heels are on??? Chef's kiss. She has soooooooo many pairs of shoes, all types.

She daydreamed about marrying Custis but hated when she'd repeat her new last name if that came to be. Galina Pendleton. Makes her gag. However her daydream is less romantic and more the power couple they could be since they're both very good at their perspective businesses. But... Maybe she's thought about him looking at her with love in his eyes and it makes her smile. But rarely.

Sable - I have a lot more to say about her simply because I never ... Dropped anything about her at all! She's one of those OCS that just lives in your head and only random stuff is put down as evidence they exist.

She's a guilty oc made purely because Pennywise needs his whole [clown honking noise] pounded into! Enough with IT being dom!!! Put IT in its place!!! Hence: Sable.

She's Celestial where IT is Eldritch. I mean... Go big or go home am I right? If Stephen King can make OP characters, so can I. Hence she's sort of immortal also, I haven't fleshed out her species but she's something that could take The Deadlights in a fight. Maybe? She's not as long-lived as the deadlights or IT, but I figured she's not human so IT might be fascinated by her or it also. Since I refer to her as a she because she chose that gender when integrating on Earth but being a celestial type body or being she probably would not have something like a gender. Like her true body is sort of like a comet, a small solar system body they're called, but very icy and shaped to travel fast through space.

Since she's been on Earth so long she's forgotten a lot of things she was once able to do. She's very good at acting and becoming part of humanity on Earth, so in meeting him she's slowly relearning the things she was once capable of. Although IT probably doesn't appreciate that part of her learning she does in fact have powers.

She likes humanity a lot and enjoys feelings, hence why I made her a sort of Cirque Du Soleil performer. So she's in a lot of different outfits, some clown-related some not. When I think of her aesthetic... Think... A Trip to the Moon 1902

Her tag with Pennywise is xo. I miss you and it's the Bjork song title of the same name.

She's athletic, like a gymnast and stands at 5'8. I can't figure out what hair color I want her to have yet however. So everyone thinks she just dyes her hair a lot but instead she cycles through different hair colors depending on her costume or mood.

Her human eyes are brown, while they can become a sort of purple or the reflection color of animals that can see in the dark. Finally her true eyes are just an intense heat of white light. Again, think how a comet lights up the sky.

She loves loves loves lovveesssssss slob. Like anything sloppy. She literally had no idea she was attracted to something like drool till she had Pennywise salivate onto her. Which is funny because she likes herself to be clean and her environment. But he awoke the freak in her and she wants to lick him she thinks.

As much as she likes humanity she understands humans die, she can even devoid herself of feelings or turn emotions off. Watch humans like a scientist in their experiment but sees nothing wrong with it since she's not even the same species. But she prefers to have feelings. Therefore with Pennywise, she gets he's just another animal hunting prey, the way a dolphin hunts or even commits war crimes! An intelligent creature but capable and knows it's being cruel and immoral. Yet she doesn't have to like it and definitely shows her disapproval except... She'd probably encourage him to kill humans she thinks deserve to die.

She's sort of self centered, selfish, and perhaps a little egotistical because she thought she was the only long-lived being for what felt forever to her. So it's a slap in the face when she feels fear and like "Oh shit I could die", but then that gets canceled out when she figures out the clown is less interested in killing her and more into something else.

[crowtrobotx]

I’m choosing violence - 1, 4, 9, and 10 on the asks

🔥

the character everyone gets wrong

There’s a few here but I’m gonna stick to RE 8 for most of these and say: Donna. I always see her written or interpreted as this sad, helpless lady who y/n usually befriends because she’s not really evil but like. Did we play the same game? Did you see that entire zone lmao? She toys with her victims far more than the other villains, she went right for the most vulnerable parts of Ethan and wouldn’t stop striking where it hurt, she forced him to give up a part of himself to even get through the door! She is catastrophically fucked up and good for her! I definitely think she has potential for depth (the note on the back of the photo when you get it back - hello???) but pls she is not a cottagecore Instagram girl who just wants to knit and have tea. I could keep going and talk about how it’s entirely possible that Angie is some extension of her personality or whatever but I’ll just summarize it with: Let her kill people.

what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

They used the phrase “this character is at least bi/pan” one too many times. Even if it’s not intentional, I super cannot stand folks who act and speak like the sexualities not at either polar end of the spectrum are stepping stones or “gay lite.” Extremely sus and I will not tolerate it!!

worst part of canon?

What Capcom has done, or rather not done, to Mia! I understand that the Winters’s marriage is like. Less supposed to be fleshed out and more of that type of horror that preys on ~ooohhh what if it turns out you didn’t know the person you thought you knew best~ which is fine! But really? Why are we leaving this woman as just a hollow shell with crumbs of good environmental storytelling around their European house and maybe the Beneviento manor but… nothing else. There is a very strong (physically and emotionally) character buried under there but they just decided 🤷🏼‍♀️ fuck it, we don’t need to explore her at all despite the fact that she would have imho been a much more compelling protagonist for RE 8.

worst part of fanon?

Oh god. Oh GOD lol. I have to pick just one? Christ! Well, for this one I’ll go with: the bizarre assumption that Heisenberg made the tank “for Ethan.” Uhm. I’m really not trying to “well, actually” anyone but I see this parroted as absolute fact all the time and he… didn’t. He has a line in his boss fight where he taunts Ethan for using his “hand me down” which to me and combined with Chris’s comments that seem to suggest it’s literally just a deus ex machina to give you a fighting chance against the enormous metal controlling machine monster outside… my man just had that shit laying around because he’s a crazy junk hoarder. It’s okay if you want to believe that it was made specifically for him because it makes you happy I guess but talking about it (and the yellow paint - don’t get me started) like it 100% was canon uwu soft boi Karl trying to be good is really a distortion of his character imho. Sorry!!

Choose Violence!

[deathsmallcaps]

I saw Wish! It was cute, and overall I think it was okay. It had some lovely callbacks, and was entirely original in its main plot, which is nice.

A lot of the issues people theorized it would have (pop-y songs, overdose on adorkability*, generic culture for the characters and outfits, imperfect casting in relation to character’s ethnicities, commercialization upon modern social justice interests such as reformation, and inability to commit to darkness) were there.

*man I usually love talking animals but like. Sidekicks are supposed to be comic relief and support, not distractions. Valentino wasn’t that bad, but still. Then again, I’m not the target audience. I do love that he was a baby goat. (As someone who has helped baby goats, unless they’re cold, they HATE clothes. When they’re cold, then they can just fall asleep in them, it’s very cute.)

But there were good points too (nods to Disney history without distracting the narrative, no romantic storyline* a genuine villain with a in-story further descent, desperate **betrayal spurred on by the societal structure the villain/government sought to preserve, themes of a right to self-determination and liberty vs. ‘protection’, how privilege warps you and makes you defensive, different body types and abilities, lovely animation, and so on).

*for the record, I love romance, and I know the last couple DP movies had no romances either. But idk how you could watch Raya and the Last Dragon and not even THINK about Rayaari lol.

*as soon as I saw the character, I thought ‘Oh he looks like Hans’ and I knew lmao

To comment specifically on Asha: her character creation definitely fell into the adorkability trap. But she’s very sweet, loving and capable, and I really enjoyed her relationship with her family. Making her a fairy (?) godmother at the end totally fit with her story. And her actress, Ariana DeBose, has a fantastic voice, and I can tell she totally gave it her all.

I’m glad her Mom isn’t dead (classic female protagonist issue) but I do have reservations that both Black princesses have dead Dads. I’m by no means the most qualified to speak on that, but I do know that it’s an issue often raised by Black fans on Black character’s backstories.

I do really, really love that Asha is mixed though. I know there’s a lot of issues of colorism* in Hollywood, both in live action and animated productions, but as a sister to a mixed Black boy, I know how much characters like Asha would have meant to my brother as a kid.

*interestingly enough, the movie didn’t fall into the trap of the lady half of the pairing being light than her male partner. Asha’s paternal family is white, and her Mom is Black.

My brother was never into Disney Princesses, but when Miles Morales (from Spider-verse) came out in 2018, right before my brother turned 13, and I think that was the first time he really connected to another kid character on screen. Miles is arguably mixed, often feels like a fish out of water, and grew up too damn fast, both physically* and emotionally. And I know that there has to be a bunch of little kids (and adults too!) who see Asha and feel seen. And I’m so glad for them.

*my brother was always tall, but he hit 6 feet by age 14, is 6’6 (183cm) now, and may still be growing, much to his chagrin.

Wish is not the magnum opus of Disney. Out of the two animated theatrical films Disney put out this year, I think Elemental is the better of the two*. But by no means do I think it’s terrible. It was genuinely fine.

Interestingly enough though, I do believe it to be an incredibly accurate representation of Disney’s modern output and behavior. Perhaps in that sense, it is a triumph.

*though I’m severely biased. I saw that movie 6 times in theatres and coincidentally rewatched it today. I cried each time.

Also for the record, I nearly finished* painting an Asha doll before I saw the movie today. I felt very pleased with myself. Here she is next to a Kida doll that I finished today.**

*I forgot her necklace and got her shoe color wrong, ugh. And I think I’ll try to make her side-braid’s more apparent. I will keep the flower though, just as a nod to both of her sidekicks and because I think it’s pretty lol

** Disney put out a line of mini Disney princess dolls that I … kind of became obsessed with. And have been painting to look like other Disney female Protagonists lol. Kida has an Aurora head (hence the unfortunately small nose) and a Moana body, while Asha has a Moana head (hair texture roughly matched) and a Elsa body (white and purple outfit from the sequel). If you’d like to see more, I have a post from a couple weeks ago about my work so far.

[wouldyoustayvn]

Same anon who asked to see OG Virgil and Riza's kids! What exactly are their species? Could you also just tell us more about them? Apologies if this is a asking a little much, don't feel obligated to answer this you wouldn't like to. Please have a good day! <3

Ohh!!! I’ll happily to explain!!! :D!! I love them so much!! They just make me happy!

To start of with their eldest son, Ryder Evans

- He is a drider!

- He is a sole survivor of his biological mother’s hunger. Virgil found him laying outside of the forest during his stroll, injured and a bloody mess. Virgil quickly took him to his house and takes care of him along with Riza.

-Being so young and traumatized, Virgil and Riza took Ryder in and love him as their own kid.

- Ryder absolutely admires Virgil and is forever grateful for his kindness for saving him.

- One time he tries to attempt to cut his hair to look just like Virgil but couldn’t and asked his dad to cut his.

- Ryder loves watching his dad making music, watching him in his little corner that Virgil created for his children to hang out if they want to be in Virgil’s office. There are times he grew curious and wanted to play an instrument. Virgil happily taught him! He lets him pick out an instrument to choose! Ryder’s first instrument were the drums!

-Ryder also enjoys watching his dad working on developing his game!

- He also helps Virgil with housework!

- Virgil gifted Ryder a star necklace on his birthday(the day that he was taken in by Virgil, he does have no recollection of his birth). He noticed that Ryder tends to play with Virgil’s necklace. It brought back bittersweet memories of his dad and himself when he was young. So just like what Virgil’s father did, Virgil gives Ryder a necklace.

-Ryder adore the necklace Virgil gives him, it made him happy and would often refuse to take it off. He swore to his parents that he will cherish this necklace.

- Ryder is absolutely a momma’s boy. At first when Virgil took him in, he is on high alert and on guard whenever he sees Riza, due to his experience with his mother, he is being extra cautious around her. But due to her kindness and patience, he began to lower his guard down. With her, he feels safe, loved.

- He loves teasing his little sisters, especially his youngest sister,Clementine, he finds her angry hissing and screeching and thrashing her wings pretty entertaining. But he apologized whenever he teases too much!

-He absolutely love colors! Especially Edith’s paints! They’re just pretty to look at! He tend to mess around with Edith’s paints (which sometimes accidentally spill or drop them) and face with a very angry Edith. So he bought her replacements with his allowance as an apology (he still messes with her paints but is now careful)

-He is the first child Virgil and Riza adopted!

Now to the eldest daughter, Edith Evans!

- Edith is a half orc!

-She was adopted by Virgil and Riza at an orphanage (literally the only kid they adopted properly lmao)

-She is a very polite girl, which made her look up to Riza and her grandma Erin (Virgil’s mom) she is inspire to be lady like just like them!

-Despite her orc strength, she is very careful about it! She never wanted to hurt anyone! Unless if you’re Ryder that mess with her paints- which she grabbed a tree and was about to smack him like it’s baseball— which they both got a scolding from their mom

- Edith absolutely love to paint! She gets giddy whenever Virgil bought her art materials (don’t worry it’s not the typical art kit 💀)

-She is very protective of her material *looks at Ryder* so she usually hids them somewhere in her room

-She absolutely gets along well with her Uncle Irvin, they both share their love for bees and gardening! Irvin lends her flowers that he grew for her artworks! Or even use them as references!

-Speaking of painting, she absolutely enjoys listening to her dad’s astronomy rambles. There are times when she paint stars for Virgil (he has them in his office walls, he’s just so happy whenever he takes breaks and looks at them!)

-She enjoys her time with her family with English afternoon teas parties in their garden! She absolutely enjoy the sandwiches and pastries her dad make!

-She loves playing at the garden with her siblings! She also happily read Clementine, stories when they’re under their favorite tree!

-Edith is the second child they adopted

And finally to the youngest daughter, Clementine Evans!

- Clementine is an owl harpy!

- Virgil found her as an abandoned egg when he went out for a stroll. Just like with Ryder, he took her home and takes care of the egg (he has done so much research of how to take care of an egg 💀)

- Virgil instantly pulled out a camera to record her when she began to hatch!

- Virgil is the one that named her Clementine!

- Clementine is the most energetic out of the three!

- She absolutely took much interest in games! She always watches Virgil plays video games (and be his little cheerleader!)

-She absolutely enjoys spending time with Riza and help her with cooking! Although she struggles due to her wings but she found ways to help!

- She absolutely loves reading time with her big sister Edith!

-As much she doesn’t like Ryder mess with her, she enjoys spending time with him! They tend to get competitive when it comes to play games but they just had fun!

- She tends to sleep in her parents bed, it just helps her feel safe and happy! Just being in the middle!

-She wanted to be a teacher just like her mom!

-She gets along with her Aunt Sarah (Virgil’s sister) and loves listening to musicals that her aunt plays!

-Also the three love to play with Scott! (Virgil’s doberman!) they’re practically inseparable with Scott!

[starlit-dreaming]

ITBOMM Extras/Drafts + Announcement

Fandom: WMMAP Rating: G Ship: Eventual Lucathy, Felily, Calena, and more Note: the Twin Sibling AU that i tried so hard not to write, but i DID, so naturally i have to call myself out for writing it. will be cross-posted on ao3 and wattpad under the same title

A/N: oof this chapter kinda ran outta my hands and went from 4k to 5k+ lmao i also sort of just glossed over some details, but i’ll eventually go a little more in-depth at a later time

Arc 1: Beginning of the End 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Arc 2: Of Princes and Villainesses 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21

Side Story: maybe, i’m afraid (verena/athanasios) 1 | 2

[Extras/Rewrite Announcement]

A/N:

Long time since my last update, and I will apologize for that since I didn't expect it to have been that long since then lmao

I've been rewriting ITBOMM!!!!!!

The reason for this is because there's a lot of scenes that I wanted to write, and a lot of storybuilding that I didn't have back then that I do now. There's a lot of interactions that I never got to write out prior to the timeskips, and there's a lot of relationships I'd like to better establish instead of just tossing everyone into the scenes in one chapter.

I'll be posting the rewrite under a new story as "re: in the back of my mind" and I'll be changing the title of this fic to ITBOMM. I'll be posting extra scenes, my outline, etc here, and mark it as complete.

CW: There is a scene where someone commits suicide. For those who wish to avoid it, I will be marking it as *** and ending the scene with the same marking. It isn't explicit and detailed, but I will still be marking it.

————————————————————

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear — or so the saying goes. He didn’t expect Odysseus to actually start attending their music lessons together, but he supposes that it doesn’t actually matter in the end. It should be a blessing in disguise, since it meant he could get to know the kid and regain some memories.

Should be, in theory.

Rather, what matters is how awkward Athanase feels when it comes to hanging out with a future anti-monarchy revolutionary leader, since his mother had stepped out of the room for several minutes. If you don’t see the issue with this, then allow me to paint the problem:

They were alone together. A member of the monarch’s family, and a future anti-monarch revolutionary.

“What did Your Highness say to make Lady Durk cry?” Odysseus had asked after a short while of silence. He seemed curious, despite his blank stare and monotone voice. Maybe he was just as bored as Athanase is, since they were both reading music scores and doing nothing but reviewing what they had just gone over while Countess Nightingale was out discussing something with Felix.

It was naïve of Athanase to think that nobody would’ve found out about Autumn. Felix was one thing, but if anyone else saw her crying, they’d think he was turning out to be more like his father, maybe. They knew Felix would keep his mouth shut, but if it were anyone else who saw her cry, word would spread like fire. For both of their sakes, he hoped she got away without being seen, but apparently not.

Still… it could’ve been worse. Odysseus was asking in a one on one conversation, without anyone else. Countess Nightingale didn’t seem like a blabbermouth, and the maids value their own life to gossip about the Imperial Prince’s playmate with other nobles around.

So that limited the amount of people who saw. Maybe Irene saw the crying and decided to get her brother to pry into the matter? It made sense…

At least it wasn’t his father — he’d probably ask if Athan found her to be a displeasing friend.

“Huh?” He blinked owlishly, trying to look as confused as he hoped he did. “What’re you talking about, Sir Odysseus? Why would big sis Verena cry?”

Athan was pretty fucking adorable — he knew this and was confident about this fact. He and Athy were blessed with damn good genes. Maybe, on a very slim chance, Odysseus would think he’s a cute and harmless person and that Autumn didn’t actually cry because of him.

“Hmm.”

Maybe his adoration for Ferdie was too strong. How the hell could anyone remain indifferent to his cute face?

. . .

Ah, he spoke too soon, Athanase thought, his eyes noticing the slightest red hue gracing Odysseus’ cheeks. The boy in question simply looked away as he muttered under his breath.

“Well… deserved…”

…?

Did he just scoff? His eyes had looked away, but Athanase could sense that there was a hint of scorn in his muttered voice. He was curious about what Odysseus actually said, but…

If he didn’t know any better, it sounded an awful lot like…

No, it couldn’t be.

Odysseus may be OOC for a character in Toska, but he was still a kid. Granted, no kids to his memories were ever really polite and cordial for the most part, but this was a world with a nobility setting.

(“Would you call me crazy, if I told you that I went back in time?” or so implies whatever character in a cliché rofan manhwa scenario.

Athanase waves the thought away.)

“I don’t know what you think might’ve happened, Sir Odysseus,” Athanase simply smiled. “Care to share your thoughts?”

“Ah, it was simply my imagination, Your Highness,” Odysseus politely responded with an obviously fake smile attached with the false pleasantries. “Forgive me for misunderstanding what happened. I was rather concerned if Lady Durk offended the Imperial Family.”

The way Odysseus apologized felt as if he were mocking him, especially with that twinkle in his eyes. He seemed greatly amused, actually. And it sounded like he himself saw her cry.

Maybe he wanted to know if his “rival” was out of the picture. Or miserable, depending on who he’s obsessed with.

Athan wanted none of Odysseus’ drama-starting shit.

‘He’s more of a brat than I thought,’ Athan absentmindedly thought, instead opting to refocus on his music sheet.

——————————

He could feel eyes staring at him, bearing into his soul.

A glance up, with a smile on his face, he sees his father, looking at him from where he sat at the dining table. Judging by the fact that Athy was nowhere to be seen, it was just Athan who arrived early.

“Good morning, papa!” Athan greeted sweetly, giving him a proper bow before moving to take his seat.

When he sits down he notices his father staring at him. Despite seeming expressionless, he couldn’t help but sense an unspoken displeasure.

Strange, did Athan do something wrong?

‘Maybe he just hates seeing my face as opposed to Athy,’ Athan absentmindedly thought, feeling a pang of bitter disappointment. It was hard not to hate his sister, even though she hadn’t done a damn thing.

The doors open up and in walks Felix holding Athanasia, who he promptly lets down after a glare from his father. He watches her dart around the table, the slightest blur of blonde heading towards their father, giving the man in question a hug.

Huh. When did Athy start getting so affectionate with him?

——————————

Interacting with Athy is, to put it bluntly, weird.

The realization that the original Athanasios hated his older sister made it hard to think of her as the same dumbass sister he cared about. On top of that, the loss of his twin telepathy made it difficult for him to understand her thought process now as if they were strangers. Knowing her, she was probably screeching profanities at him for ignoring her, since she didn’t know what was happening.

Her thoughts were always so loud, too…

Losing the telepathy was a huge blow, because now it left them with only one faucet of their personalities. He had a role to play as a sweet and gentle musician genius, while Athy was a cheerful and friendly prodigy who enjoyed learning. Their telepathy allowed them to just be two young adults in the same unfortunate circumstance.

But, he didn’t want to reconcile with her, if he had to be honest. It was necessary for the sake of convenience, yes, but unwanted.

Unlike him, Athanasia was “complete” in his eyes. She wasn’t burdened by lack of memories, she wasn’t shackled with comparisons purely by being recognized as a genius. Maybe she was the golden child, favoured by looking the most and acting like their mother.

His sister was not controlled by her memories and lack thereof. Not like he was, with his obsession with memories.

Even so, their conversation was inevitable.

He knew it was, and with most of his memories all over the place, he just didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about his lack of memories would only invite questions that he couldn’t answer, questions that he himself wasn’t ready to hear.

‘She doesn’t need to know that this is my third life,’ he concludes, ‘But I’ll tell her about Autumn, otherwise she’ll be too wary of her being so close to me. She already wasn’t happy about me going to Arlanta, either, but Felix managed to get his foot in the door negotiation-wise.’

Felix opens the door, allowing him to poke his head in and see his sister and her playmate.

“Athy, can I play with you?” Athan asked rather sweetly with a smile. “Big sis Verena wanted to talk to Lucas.”

“Of course, Athan!” Athy cheered, smile wide and clearly fake.

Lucas only raised a brow at the odd request from Autumn, but Athan supposed it was justified. Lucas was an outlier, and Autumn wanted to figure out if he really is an unrelated person to this world.

Maybe he’s a transmigrator like them, Athan truthfully considered. Like an OC in fanfics — original characters were a hit or miss with him, but he often made exceptions if he was desperate for a fanfic. Lucas seemed like a cliché self-insert OC — black hair and red eyes, a classic combo that would only be a better fit if he was a mysterious stranger with a tragic backstory…

Focus.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” Athy frowned, puffing up her cheeks in clear displeasure. “Ever since I woke up, you never talk to me like normal!”

“Me ignoring you?!” Athan scoffed. “You’re one to talk! You’ve been acting like I don’t even exist!”

“What?”

“What?” he hissed. “What part of that don’t you understand? You’re the genius here.”

——————————

‘Autumn, where are you?!’ Athanase panicked, calmly taking a sip of tea. ‘How do I deal with your obsessive gay son?!’

‘Bitch — where am I? Where the fuck’re you?!’

Autumn’s thoughts practically screeched at him from across the Marquisate.

——————————

Ferdinand Milford is a surprisingly chatty kid. It often grated on his nerves, but oddly enough, there were moments where he did feel fond of Ferdie’s dumb comments. Maybe the original Athanasios was much more familiar with the guy?

He almost reminded him of Athanasia, whenever she tried to urge him to tag along with her.

How was she adjusting to life without him, especially without the telepathy?

Maybe it’s for the best that he doesn’t know.

——————————

“I don’t get it,” Athanase frowned. “I said the same thing word for word as I remembered, but it only made her angry.”

“Did you do anything different?” Autumn asked.

“Not that I can remember,” he shook his head.

“Well surely you must’ve done something,” Autumn wearily said with a wry smile, finally looking over to him. “Charlotte dislikes men, and yet according to your memories, you and our families were the exceptions.”

“But I really didn’t do anything different…”

“That may be, but you need to remember that you’re not the same person any more. You experienced a childhood where you are loved and cherished. Even if she, too, is cherished by her loved ones, maybe you won’t be able to relate to her at all in this life because you’re no longer the same as you once were.”

He hated that thought — a small part of him desperately wanted to know more about Charlotte.

It was a rather ugly feeling.

“I don’t want that,” he quietly admits. “I want to see her smile.”

“You’re surprisingly stubborn about this,” Autumn blinked.

“I don’t remember much, but she was important to me.”

——————————

“I… don’t want to have a painful death.”

She is a beauty beyond compare, though her face was sickly pale with chapped lips. He tries not to note the lack of red hues her lips used to have, nor did he say much as his hands cupped her cold hands. Her eyes are beautiful, but they are now muted orange-yellow sunsets — he still loves them, he still loves her, but it breaks his heart to see her in so much pain.

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Surely you agree, dear.”

“Yeah,” he quietly says, placing his hand next to her as she laid in bed and watching her weakly bring his hand to cup her cheek.

“Do you think I’m being horrid for thinking my family is selfish, love? For saying such horrid things. Mother and father keep telling me to hold on a little longer and have faith,” she weakly huffed. “Sister-in-law keeps telling me that she’ll find someone to save me, and then my elder brother insists that I’ll survive this ordeal, even though he looks away as though ashamed.”

“No,” he wryly smiles, running his fingers through her long blonde hair, watching as her shoulders relax. “I would say the same, if I were plagued with this cursed affliction without a known cure.”

“Truly, my beloved understands me best,” she smiles in return, and he notices how her eyes grow misty. “Am I terrible, having these bad thoughts? For wanting them to cut it out and be realistic?”

“Of course not,” his eyes softened. “They’re trying to handle the situation by having hope, but it’s hurting you the most.”

“I know they mean well,” she states as tears begin to fall. “But it makes me feel all the more guilty for leaving them.”

“Yeah, I know,” he nods, taking his handkerchief out as he wipes away her tears.

——————————

“I will leave you and the princess be — I won’t even try to covet her holy beast. In exchange, I ask that you don’t interfere with the wish I must grant.”

“And whose wish are you talking about?”

“Why, my princess, of course. Isn’t it obvious?” she smiled at him. “Even if she’s not the same person, I must accomplish what’s been asked.”

——————————

“Would you hate me,” [][][][][][][][][] had started, looking off into the horizon, “If I were to be consumed by my short-sighted quest for revenge? If I abandon my ideals of knighthood in exchange for the power it takes to defeat those who have wronged us? If I were to ever become the monster that I had sought to destroy… what would happen, if I stray?”

He raised his hand to cup [][][][][][][][][]’s cheek, speaking gently, tenderly, “I would kill you myself.”

His eyes softened.

“Good.”

——————————

***

She sits on the windowsill, calm and quiet as the wind brushes through her long pale blonde hair. The weight of her dress fell at her sides, a clear indication that she was skinnier than before. Her face sullen, and the skin of her hands had hugged her so that he could see the bone structure.

So, he dimly thinks as realization creeps up on him as if it had always been a known fact. This was the reason why she was hiding away. Up in a room away from everyone in the mansion.

[][][][][][][][][] twirled a flower between her fingers. If anyone from noble society saw her now, they might actually believe her to be a mere ghost, waiting for her time to come.

“[][][][][][],” he quietly says, watching as his beloved wistfully twirls the flower in her hand.

“Ah. I’ve been caught.”

Despite the nonchalant response, she looked rather guilty.

Guilty about taking off without him, he knows.

“You’re leaving.”

It was not a question.

[][][][][][] doesn’t smile at him, and instead wistfully smiles at the flower in her hand.

A precious and pretty flower that will soon wither away.

(She, too, will wither away.)

“I am glad that it was you who found me, and not another soul, my dove.”

He was speechless.

She was now leaving.

She was now leaving by choice.

“Maybe in another life, we would have had a chance,” [][][][][][] bitterly chuckles, her eyes dull from losing its vibrant shine, her dry pale lips curled like wilted flowers.

The sun was shining behind her, illuminating her presence.

She was beautiful, as always, forever in his eyes.

Always tragically beautiful.

“Maybe next time,” she breathes.

At that moment, she finally looks at him, properly then.

“Maybe next time,” he smiles at her, because that’s what she would want to see in her final moments, and she smiles back, elation clear in her eyes.

That was it, he thinks, that’s the smile he longed to see.

. . .

And then she…

And then, she was gone.

“Maybe next time,” he tells himself, finally crumpling to the ground as the tears pour out and his smile withers away.

Maybe next time, he would’ve had the strength to save her from herself.

Maybe next time.

***

——————————

‘What the fuck do I do?!’ Autumn internally screamed, clutching her teacup as Claude’s eyes bore into her.

‘Spit it out!’ Athan cried. ‘Spill the tea!’

Without much thought, Verena coughed, her tea spilling onto her.

“Are you okay, Lady Verena?!” Lady Iris, who was seated at her side, immediately reached out her handkerchief to Autumn.

“Ah… my apologies,” Autumn demurely stated, taking the handkerchief calmly, despite the internal screaming that only Athanase could hear. “I didn’t expect the tea to be as bitter as it was, so the fault lies with me…”

“We’ll just have to make sure there’s more sugar next time for you, Lady Verena,” Athan smoothly stated as he smiled at her before looking at Claude who continued to stare on with a frown. “Papa, may I be excused, so I can show Lady Verena where the dressing rooms are?”

Claude didn’t bother to hide his displeasure, as he narrowed his eyes at Autumn with the most loathsome look. “You are to return as soon as you’re done,” he stated with a more neutral look as his focus returned to Athanase, looking rather disinterested despite Felix seeming to hold back a laughing fit. “There will be no delays.”

“Of course, papa!” Athan chirped as he and Autumn left the room.

. . .

“So scary!” Autumn let out a heavy gasp as she leaned against Athan’s shoulder the moment the doors closed. “If looks can kill, I’d be dead again!”

“Chill, bro. You’re overreacting,” Athan rolled his eyes at her dramatics as he snapped his fingers, instantly cleaning the tea stains. She shot him a confused look. “Dad doesn’t know yet, but I’ve been getting better at magic.”

“He’s gonna murder me in cold blood if he finds out I know that fact before him,” Autumn cried, her face getting red and blotchy. “I have to walk on eggshells if I value my life.”

“Yeah, yeah, wallow about my so-called tsundere dad,” Athan shook his head at her dramatics. “I’ll at least walk you to the dressing room before I leave you alone, so you can focus on planning your funeral.”

“How nice,” Autumn pouted, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief Iris gave. “A companion until my demise.”

——————————

“Dance with me,” Autumn says, looking at him softly. “Stop thinking about it, about them, and just savour the moment we have in this peace and quiet.”

“…I don’t think I can do that.”

“I understand that you have a broken heart,” Autumn whispered, placing her hand over his. “And you can cry all you’d like, but it helps to grieve over something that wasn’t meant to be bit by bit.”

“…you sound like you’ve had your own heart broken.”

“Yes,” Autumn softly murmured. “My heart never stood a chance.”

When did she get a broken heart? She never told him anything in their past life.

“You sound as if you were in love.”

“I was.”

“Who was it?”

“…someone who had no future.”

——————————

“It’s difficult being bisexual in a noble society where it just doesn’t seem to be the norm,” Verena sighed.

“Try being an actual member of the royal family and bisexual. Athy keeps teasing me about the gentlemen — not sure why she’s not teasing me about my potential suitors, but I’m thankful that she hasn’t,” Athan dryly stated. “What’s up with everyone, anyway? There’s not a single ugly person out of all the people I’ve encountered,” he looked at Verena and wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Including you, too.”

“As a marriage candidate of yours, I suppose I should be grateful you think of me to be attractive,” Autumn pursed her lips, obviously displeased at his compliment. “You’re not a sight for sore eyes either, unfortunately.”

“It’s called having good genes,” Athanase dryly stated. “Is there an actual reason you were wistfully sighing over your sexuality?”

“Lilian York,” Autumn simply stated as Felix awkwardly tried to ignore their conversation. Briefly, Athan pitied the guard, but also, he found it quite amusing to watch him feign ignorance in the aftermath of all his conversations with Autumn.

Felix was interested in Lily, wasn’t he? It would be fun to try and tease him…

But still.

“My nanny?” he raised a brow. “Really?”

“She’s young, she’s single, she’s devoted,” Autumn huffed, placing a hand on her hip. “She’s pretty, she’s very sweet and kind, she’s mother material—”

“—Alright, you’ve made your point,”  he interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And you’ve also made it abundantly clear that you’ve no interest in anyone in our generation. It’s not like you can make it even more clear.”

He froze.

That sounded like a challenge.

Athan did not intend to challenge her.

For a moment, Autumn is quiet. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest, as if he’ll loathe this conversation for years to come. They make eye contact.

“Don’t—” Athan hissed.

“Duke Robain,” Autumn seriously stated as Felix immediately choked and stared at them in baffled disbelief. Athan didn’t blame him, he would’ve reacted the same way if Autumn mentioned his own father. Even then, his father wouldn’t be too terrible of an answer since Duke Robain was likely in his 50s-60s by now. To an outsider, it would simply make Autumn seem as if she were into grandparents.

She probably would’ve said his father’s name, if she didn’t value her own life. It was fortunate that she gave no fucks after Felix found out about her interests in mothers and fathers.

Still, he made a face, wrinkling his nose as he very much judged her blatant disregard for manners.

“Can you not?”

“Duke Robain.”

He heaved a heavy sigh, deliberately choosing to ignore her as he takes a sip of his tea.

“Duke. Robain.”

“I heard you the first time, and I prefer to leave it at that,” Athan flatly shot back, placing his cup of tea back down. “Now, will you kindly shut up?”

She did not kindly shut up.

“He’s gorgeous, Prince Athanase!” Autumn seemed to practically swoon. “Duke Robain is my ideal man. The silver-grey is a lovely combination with his red hair, and his voice is just—!” Autumn squealed. “And he’s just so gentlemanly.”

“Duke Robain is, what, three times our physical age, now?” he rubbed his temple, feeling a headache creeping in. “And need I remind you that we haven’t even debuted yet, at the very least?”

“He’s only, like, 45, last I recall,” Autumn confidently stated. Well shit, there goes his guess. He keeps forgetting that high society’s wack like that with their marriages and crap. “And Duke Robain has yet to remarry. And you debut in four years — we have time. I need to plan a memorable first meeting!”

“Right…” he slowly spoke, his eyes trailing away from his companion and over to Felix, who appeared very much horrified by the conversation and very much wishing he never heard a word. “Good luck with that, I suppose.”

——————————

“Don’t!” Odysseus had shouted, trying to cover Athanase’s face. “Don’t look!”

“Sir Odysseus…?”

“Please… don’t try to remember.”

As if mocking Odysseus, the flames roared, a scream accompanying it.

And Athan, he… he…

He blacks out.

. . .

Everything ached in a way that felt unfamiliar to him.

He hears the cackling fire and frowns, opening his eyes. The room was getting uncomfortably warm, and he couldn’t move much, nor could he speak.

And that’s when he sees it — a fire burning the building, reaching towards him in an agonizingly slow pace. He tried to break away, only to realize that he was tied to a chair, with a piece of cloth over his mouth.

He tried to squirm, but it was no use—

It was only then that he heard a faint shout, screaming for him.

That very same person had reignited the hope he had lost in the midst of despair.

“[][][][][][][][]! Please, answer me! Your Highness, Prince—”

——————————

“You don’t even like physical labour!” Athan stated in clear exasperation.

“Just  because I don’t want to be a swordsman doesn’t mean I’m not interested  in the art as a writer!” Verena argued back as Athy watched them, taking  a sip of her tea as she watched the two argue. “Besides, knights who  can use magic are sexy and popular in literature nowadays!”

“You  just want to write a love story involving a prince and a knight,” Athan  shot back. “You even wrote that smut fic involving, well, you know.”

“That’s not true! That’s not true!” Verena screeched, covering her ears as she pointedly avoided eye contact.

“Says FFN User Starshine-Dreaming!”

“No,  no, no!” Verena cried. “Drop it! I stopped writing on FFN for a reason,  Athan! When in heavens are you finally going to stop reminding me about  it all?!”

“Who knows,” he flatly responded. “Maybe I’ll  be reminding you for the same length of time that I’ve waited for a  chapter update — several years, bitch.”

“It’s been more than six years! Get over it already, asshole!”

“Six in the previous life, but eight including now!” Athan hissed. “Fourteen years in total, Autumn!”

——————————

“So… I might have fucked up canon this time,” Autumn immediately started the conversation with a pleasant smile on her face.

“Excuse me?” he blinked, taken aback as he looks at her.

“Hari Ernst,” Autumn sheepishly grinned.

“Autumn… what did you do?” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Eheh… well, I have a little sister now! Surprise?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” she sheepishly nodded, taking a sip of her tea as she avoids eye contact. “Brother and I were out shopping together, we ended up finding Hari, and brother pitied her, so we proposed that maybe we took her into the family. Auntie needs an heiress, last I recall.”

“Dude… didn’t the oldest of the Ernst boys like Hari, even though she practically looks like she could be their sister’s twin with how similar they look to each other? I did not torture myself with reading that damn novel to reach this point, dammit.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Autumn nodded. “Besides, didn’t you say that it would be a good idea to befriend the Ernst Family? I hear that they’ll be partaking in the Hunting Competition. Who knows, maybe if the future heiress of the Pompidou Family ends up charming the future Duke of the Ernst Family, we’ll have ourselves a proper alliance by marriage going on.”

“Do you honestly believe, to the gods above, that Eugene would marry into the Pompidou Family?”

“…We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

——————————

“So, my aunt will be adopting Hari — er, Harley — and it turns out, since my uncle refuses to adopt her since she’s from the streets, she’ll remain a Demirci. When Hari — fuck, Harley —inherits the title, she can keep the name.”

“That doesn’t sound plausible to a noble society…”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. I just opted to talk to His Majesty.”

“You talked to my dad?”

“All I did was mention that you thought Pompidou is a dumb name and that you felt bad that Hari — HARLEY — was going to be called by that name when she gets older. And that it’d make you really happy if she could go by Demirci, so you should maybe act really cute with His Majesty like Her Highness, Princess Athanasia.”

“…right. Also, you know it’s fine to still call her Hari, right? If anyone notices then just say it’s a nickname.”

“…why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Cause it was funny watching you struggle over something so simple.”

“Wow, what a bitch.”

——————————

“We need to talk.”

Autumn’s smile faltered the moment she heard those words. “Oh no, are we breaking up?”

“What?”

“I swear I’ll change, babe!” Autumn stated, slumping in her seat over the table. “Please don’t leave meeee.”

“Autumn, the fuck’re you on about?”

“You said the classic breakup intro, dude. I had to do it for the sake of our readers. What if they got their hopes up regarding our relationship? No, no! Things like this ought to be clearly defined.”

“…my best friend’s going crazy. Look, nobody would ever ship us — except for maybe a few crazy multi-shippers. Like yourself. Even my sister’s against the very thought of it. She’d rather I start crushing on Ijekiel, and everyone knows how popular I’d be with him! Plus, the majority of our readers don’t want me to end up with a girl.”

“Damn. Way to hurt me right where it hurts the most. I can’t believe I’m un-shippable with my own bestie…”

——————————

“You should be fine,” Autumn snorts, taking a sip from her glass. “Common noble etiquette dictates that you should never approach someone of higher status for a dance. Princess Athanasia is more approachable. Just frown at everyone and you’ll be good.”

“So I should treat them like bugs the same way my dad does,” Athan concluded.

——————————

***

“As you already know by now,” she weakly says, “Athanasios died. In my rewrite, I tried to figure out a way to keep him alive, I wanted to give the twins a happy ending.”

That was surprising — she never told him that.

“No matter what I tried to write, I couldn’t imagine him being alive at the end of Toska. Somehow, or some way, he was going to end up dying. It was the main reason why I stopped posting updates in the first place. I wanted to finish it, though, at least for you, when I found out that you read my story. I wanted to finish rewriting Toska for you, but then you…”

But then he died.

She had no reason to finish her story, if the one she rewrote it for wouldn’t even be there to read it.

“And it was… it was the same. For Athanasios. He…” she refused to look up from her teacup, but he could already see where she was going with this.

“Athanasios died in your rewrite.”

Just like he did.

Verena says nothing, but that alone is enough of an answer.

Athanase slowly nods as dawning realization washes over him. And he remembers that dream, where he spoke to Diana, and the way he moved closer to the ledge.

.

(He feels a twinge of guilt, a pain in his chest, for what he was about to do.)

.

“He jumped from a tower.”

Nothing.

.

(There is something about him that she sees, and he knows this, because there is a moment that her soft smile crumples. Tears pour out as his mother becomes distraught, sadness splashing him in waves, but he stands still — unyielding. He finally takes a step closer to the balcony, hands touching the cold stone.)

.

“And he chose to do it. He wasn’t pushed, he wasn’t threatened, he wasn’t manipulated, he wasn’t in any danger.”

His throat felt dry.

He knows.

“It was a deliberate choice. Athanasios… he wanted to die.”

.

(An image of Diana standing on the balcony, crying as she tries to stop her son who only shakes his head and smiles, who tells her “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough.”

The sensation of stepping on the ledge, ignoring his silently crying mother.)

.

“Athanasios got tired of living,” he quietly says.

Verena closes her eyes, tears spilling forth as she never looks at him. She says nothing, again, as he figures it all out, slowly and verbally voicing the thoughts aloud, a sick and twisted feeling rising from within.

He feels nauseous.

.

(An image of long black hair whirling in the wind comes to mind, high up on a rooftop, staring up at the darkening skies above. Lips curling up into a smile as they ignored the painful aches of their bones. The feeling of freedom just within their reach…)

.

“I got tired of living.”

And it should be alarming, really, but it doesn’t surprise him.

He always believed that he wasn’t the sort of person to just… jump to end his life, and yet he did — he has, he had, he might. With a compelling enough reason, it was a magical excuse to end it all.

It just so happened that wanting death was reason enough.

.

(“I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. Maybe next time.”)

.

In his previous life — lives, maybe — he wanted to die.

She doesn’t need to tell him the reason why she never finished the rewrite anymore. He did exactly what Athanasios had done. It must’ve felt terrible, reading your own writing meant for a friend who died, only for that very person to die in the same exact way, albeit in different circumstances and situations, in different places and times.

But for the same reasons.

It still happened, even if he never thought he would consider…

.

(He died.)

.

“You did,” Verena softly confirmed, but she didn’t really have to, not after his memory was steadily returning with more clarity and pain. “And that’s why you died in our last life together.”

People are complicated. They’re irrational or logical, fuelled by motivations or lack thereof. They’re complicated, righteous or morally grey, or downright psychotic or had been sane this whole time. Their actions could be done for stupid or convoluted reasons that most just wouldn’t be able to recognize from the get go.

The answers can be difficult to answer, because sometimes a reason why things happen include multiple issues, little things that build up over time.

And sometimes, the answer he’s been looking for really is as simple as that:

“You were tired, Athanase.”

.

(“I’m… tired.”)

***

[dreamwritesimagines]

It’s CMA-

I cannot get over the sand on the letter thing. I know I mentioned it before but it’s such an amazing detail, honestly one of my favorite extra things I’ve noticed in your works

I feel like clover gets very overwhelmed by being the center of attention. Maybe I’m projecting, but when you grow up with abusive parents, receiving any sort of attention is a really bad thing; it always means something bad is going to happen. Besides the usual overstimulating nature of being the center of attention (anxiety at making a mistake, embarrassment, etc.), I could see her really having a tough time when more than one or two people are focused on her.

How long did it take clover to start gardening at her aunt and uncle’s house? Did she grow up knowing them? When did she start feeling safe with them? Did they have to work to win her over?

Wait Josie never lived with them, did she? Can we get a rough timeline of when clover left to live with her family, when Josie left, and up to her debut? And teddy is what, six?

I do wonder if teddy had residual trauma at all. I think that having a secure base definitely sets him up for success but I wonder if clover was the only one who raised him really because that would make her his secure base, and I wonder if now he has more of a collective secure base with the aunt and uncle as well, since clover won’t be around as much and that would be really hard for him.

I also wonder because a lot of parents who are easily set off, which we know clover’s were, are easily set off by a baby. It’s the entire reason why shaken baby syndrome is a thing (it can actually occur in young children as well)- they’re physically (not to mention emotionally and mentally) more fragile, and more needy and unable to fully communicate the way an adult does, so I wonder if teddy was ever in the firing line or if clover and Josie always stepped in.

I also wonder if they’ll tell teddy about the way their parents were, and if he’ll feel any (wrongly placed) guilt over it. A lot of children who see their mother’s be abused from a young age often feel a misplaced guilt for not stepping in, even though that isn’t their job as the child and they shouldn’t be the one protecting their parent.

(ugh not me wanting to do an entire breakdown on teddy’s psych too. I’d probably add Josie in for good measure LMAO)

Also speaking of Josie, she had to deal with everything the longest, had no one to take care of her, had to protect two younger siblings, and had to hide her sexuality on top of it all. No wonder she’s so mean/protective/defensive……

I wonder if her husband knows about her trauma/past, and if Bess and Ben will bond over their caring for the two of them. They could also swap tips over how to like, get Josie and clover to open up or whatever.

How long after the time her garden was ripped up did it take for clover to go back to gardening? Where was this in the timeline (after she moved in with her aunt and uncle? Started again secretly at her home?)

Why did her aunt and uncle wait so long to adopt them? What changed their minds?

I love that we see her go from being composed and biting with Benedict in the beginning to an absolute mess in later chapters

Wait so if Ben was caught coming back quite disheveled, will Ben and clover be caught coming back that way??? Or that he comes back disheveled with a mystery woman or something??? I want to know if word of them attending parties will get out at all!!

And then everyone will be questioning clover over what she’s been doing at night with him, going out and doing it. The speculation would be fucking wild…… plus if she slips that it’s a party to like Charlie or someone, they’ll want to go and it’d be chaos!!

Will we see clover visiting lady danbury’s garden/has she gone back?

In chapter 4, when he says that he hasn’t been able to paint for months but finally can, and then we see him painting in pretty much every chapter we have of their lives together I just-

Omg in chapter five she mentions that daphne and Simon make perfect sense lmao. Cupid before we even realized, plus he clocking whenever Penelope and Colin interact, even if she doesn’t realize it’s significance (hence her pushing him towards marina)

Lmao in chapter five before they visit she says that she will only stay in their drawing room and she ends up in his art room so she technically did only stay in the drawing room(s) lmao. Sorry I love a good pun and idk if that was intentional but it’s great and I’m bummed I missed it the first few times I read the chapter

So when clover left her parents, I’m assuming her garden (or what was left of it) was either ripped apart or fell to neglect. This is such an interesting parallel with Benedict’s art room remaining in the bridgerton home. Besides the fact that their financial status allows them to leave the room untouched, it really says so much about their families through this action.

I feel like the bridgertons didn’t even really consider getting rid of Ben’s art room, not in the least because they wanted him to know that he always has a place with them, that he will always have a home and family to go back to, and that they respect him, his art, and his space. It’s a sign of love, respect, caring, and so much more.

Meanwhile, clover’s space was completely violated, I’m willing to bet repeatedly. They had no reverence for the things she held dear, even going out of their way to intentionally ruin them. Her parents showed their anger towards their children through their violation of not only the children themselves, but also their space, privacy, and everything they hold dear.

Anyway, I just thought that was neat.

The way that in chapter five he completely takes the blame for what happens even though she’s at fault. Like even before they’re together he’s protecting her from everything, including, or maybe especially, herself. I don’t think he even knows about the guilt and self loathing she harbors at this point, but his first instinct was to shield her nonetheless. He’s immediately understanding and selfless in this moment (and throughout the series).

I also like that he seems to know when to banter and when to be understanding. He switches between them so easily and lets clover feel comfortable doing either one with him, without her even noticing that she’s slipping in and out of vulnerability with him. He doesn’t push, just observes and lets her go at her own pace.

And despite her pushing and pulling at him, he remains constant. He lets her control the tides of her own emotions. Or maybe she’s the moon and he’s the tide, willingly submitting to her every movement, allowing her to get close and to back away and matching her every step of the way. When she comes close to him, he reaches as high as he can to meet her and when she needs her space, he calms and lets her come to him on her own terms.

(okay I like this analogy a lot more than the sun/moon one lol)

I think I’ve already said this but im going to say it again: if Ben could play clover any song, I feel like he would play her rainbow by kasey musgraves. If I could send clover a song/message, this would be it. Like every single lyric I am just shouting at her (except it’s not that kind of song lmao)

Charlie corrects clover from calling her Charlotte in chapter 5 and I love that we’ve now made it so that Anthony is the only one who can call her that/that that was established because now rereading I can squeal over that detail even more lmao.

I wonder if clover will change her mind after she realizes she loves Ben about true love marriages in the ton being rare. In an au I wonder if she and Ben will have the cherie/Anthony bet about the number of love matches in the ton. I can’t see her ever conceding on that point though, but maybe that’s just me.

Also I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner, but this story has huge 10 things I hate about you vibes, and I wouldn’t be surprised if clover did the same thing where she listed all the things she “hates” about Ben and almost how she hates that she loves him because it feels like such a betrayal of who she is.

I also can’t believe I didn’t realize that there’s something very ironic with clover being in love with flowers whose meanings she knows, but also how she doesn’t believe in expressing emotions or art or whatever, not realizing that using flowers to convey meanings is in itself an art form and way of expression emotions. I also wonder if she’ll realize that she is actually quite expressive in a non-verbal way, especially in all the ways that she says I love you.

Also it makes so much sense that benedict would be the one to realize how much she says without saying anything because he’s an artist. He’s used to studying things that can’t talk back, to observing without intruding, to seeing what things and people are saying without saying anything at all. After all his paintings cannot speak, so he has had to learn how to convey emotions and meaning through paint and expressions and body language and colors, and he has to consider how his audience will react to these things as well, so he’s used to trying to see things from another point of view.

Like the ton is full of people who lie and say things they don’t mean, but even so, many of them aren’t adept at poking through the bullshit, at seeing expression beyond the surface, at understanding people beyond their outfits and pleasantries. They’re so focused on these very flashy ways of communicating their presence and emotions that they forget that there are so many other ways to express oneself. I mean look at their obsession with lady whistledown; they are obsessed with words and taking words at face value.

The only person who’s grown up in the ton and really able to ignore all that is someone who’s had to train themselves to do it, and then clover who wasn’t trained to see or show the bullshit in the first place.

Sorry sorry I’ve probably said this all before. It’s one in the morning and I’m tired lmao

Okay I’m going to send this and then go to bed cuz I need to stop staying up late and waking up at noon lolololol. I’ll finish the story tmr; love u lots <3

OMG OMG DARLIIIIING!

Aaaaaaa I’m so excited! 😍

Aw I’m so happy to hear that! Sand on the letter thing actually surprised me and I didn’t think anyone would notice that! ❤️

I think you’re absolutely right! She does get overwhelmed by being the center of attention and she actually hates it ❤️ I haven’t thought about the reason until you said it but it makes perfect sense yes! It suits her background and the way she was raised, attention meant trouble in a household that she always tried to fly under the radar! 😱

That would also explain why she doesn’t want anyone else -but Benedict- to paint her, it means getting more attention❤️

I feel like it took at least a year or more for her to start gardening and by extension to trust them❤️ She didn’t grow up knowing them because her father and her uncle kind of hate each other so they probably saw them like once or twice their whole lives❤️

Josie never lived with them nope💔 The timeline I have in mind is that Josie eloped around 3 years ago but she wrote her uncle a letter and explained how bad their living conditions were in their family’s house so there was a small time period -like a month or two- between Josie leaving and Clover and Teddy moving to their uncle’s house❤️ Teddy is six now so he was like three years old when they did, that’s why he mostly sees his uncle and aunt -and especially Clover- as parental figures instead of his actual parents ❤️

I actually wasn’t aware that psychological trauma could start from such early ages until you told me recently so I feel like Teddy might have it! Like, it’s very different than Clover or Josie’s but…💔

I had no idea about shaken baby syndrome oh my God?! That’s terrible! 💔💔

I think Teddy was in the firing line for sure but Josie and Clover always stepped in, trying to protect him as much as they could😭 But I don’t think Teddy will ever know just how bad it was for them, they won’t tell him💔

Ooooh Josie💔 I think Josie actually got the worst of it, like, she is the oldest and she had no one to protect her, and considering their family… Like, yes Clover is traumatized but Josie’s situation was much worse than hers because she always stepped in whenever Clover was directed that anger by their parents even when they were little💔

I think Andrew knows up to a point about their home life but Bess knows it much better than him❤️

It probably took Clover a long time to go back to gardening and she made sure to do it much further from home the next time, kind of like hiding it from them 😭

Her aunt and uncle had no idea how bad things were at home! That’s why they didn’t adopt them, because like, her uncle and father were on bad terms so they weren’t around each other😁

Oh Benedict was caught coming back quite disheveled because he was getting busy during those parties😏 So I doubt Clover will look as disheveled, unless…😈😏

She should visit Lady Danbury’s garden!

In chapter 4, when he says that he hasn’t been able to paint for months but finally can, and then we see him painting in pretty much every chapter we have of their lives together I just-

THIS! THIIIIS! 😍

Benedict has had no problems with painting since they got together😏

Cherie was so actively matchmaking all the time, Clover is like…she is matchmaking but she’s not even aware of it really 😂

HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THE DRAWING ROOM PUN OMG?!😂

So when clover left her parents, I’m assuming her garden (or what was left of it) was either ripped apart or fell to neglect. This is such an interesting parallel with Benedict’s art room remaining in the bridgerton home. Besides the fact that their financial status allows them to leave the room untouched, it really says so much about their families through this action.

OMG OMG-

This is so true! It does show the absolute contrast between their families yes! ❤️ Like you said, while Bridgertons didn’t even consider getting rid of it, Clover’s space was violated when she was there and was left to rot when she left 💔Her family didn’t really respect or love her, unlike Benedict’s family❤️

Benedict’s first instinct is always protecting her and it is so sweeeeet🥰

I think that’s one of the reasons why Clover -despite herself- wanted to spend time with him a lot after a point❤️ They have this effortless dynamic which makes her feel at ease without pushing her ❤️

And despite her pushing and pulling at him, he remains constant. He lets her control the tides of her own emotions. Or maybe she’s the moon and he’s the tide, willingly submitting to her every movement, allowing her to get close and to back away and matching her every step of the way. When she comes close to him, he reaches as high as he can to meet her and when she needs her space, he calms and lets her come to him on her own terms.

I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS ANALOGY ARE YOU KIDDING ME-

Can I use this in the fic? This is the perfect analogy for their love story and dynamic, you’re a genius! 😍❤️❤️

That’s such a nice song! ❤️

Making Charlotte and Anthony in love was such a good idea, I hadn’t even considered that until you guys told me! 🥰❤️

Lolll Cherie and Anthony’s bet 😂 Ben and Clover could totally have that bet as well! 😂

I do think it will change her mind but not completely! Like, she will probably consider herself as one of the lucky few ❤️

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU IS ONE OF MY ABSOLUTE FAVE MOVIES😍

Omg that is such a good point about her being expressive in a different way yes! ❤️ The fact that Benedict is an artist plays a huge part in it because he is very observant and he can read through her, even the smallest gestures or expressions ❤️

The only person who’s grown up in the ton and really able to ignore all that is someone who’s had to train themselves to do it, and then clover who wasn’t trained to see or show the bullshit in the first place.  

I think that’s also one of the reasons why Benedict instantly fell in love with her, compared to the rest of the ton aka his social circle, she is both simple and complex for him ❤️ She is simple because she’s not trained in the ton’s ways, she is not trying to come across as perfect or even slightly pleasant 😂 And she’s more complex in the way of her emotions and her emotional walls and such❤️

DARLING-

Never ever apologize for this, you’ve made my day with this! ❤️😍 ILYSM, this is amaziiiiing! 🥰😍 I'm smiling at the screen right now!❤️❤️❤️

[hislittleraincloud]

No, we're not. But, I suppose we do hv somethin in common 😏

I dunno if you noticed, but I tend to throw in a few emojis 🤡 Bet you prolly know whats my fav emoji by now…

…

Yay, congrats on hittin the big 5-0! hopefully the next 50 be even better than the first, eh? 🙈 i cant thank u enough for the amazin wenovan and jairo fics... told ya, i love both my left hand and my right 🫠

#buh-bye i better get my ass ready for work…

#two like ppl abnegatin social convention lmao sorry

#two like ppl hidin behind anon facade

#but i like it better this way 🌚

#dont be blue

#eat somethin nice

#hv a drink or two

#and do wtv makes u happy

#bcoz u deserve all good things life has to offer✨🤍

Yeah, I'm 🌚 aware of your 🌚 favorite one 🌚

So NOT the same Anon as the other (who I will answer in a little bit). 🤔 So mysterious... 🫠

Thanks re: 50th. No real plans except to pick up my medications and maybe get something free (one of the Asian bakeries I have an account with has birthday stuff...). And one of the last friends I have around here is briefly meeting up w me later. (Speaking of which, went to take the baby out just a few minutes ago and more than a few of Junkie Cat Lady's paintings are outside by the lightpole/trash. Which means someone cleared her apartment out. Who, I have no idea, but yanno, if she's dead or just plain gone off to God knows where, I'd like to know. I still have her fucking apartment and mail key, and she had MY apartment key as well. I saved one painting that wasn't creepy...she tended to collect creepy fucking paintings...but left whatever else is out there. I have to take out my own trash in a minute so I'll get to peek into our dumpster and see if anything else was trashed. I had stored 2 white chairs up there that I was going to paint in a Wednesday theme but since NO ONE HAS TOLD ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON, I have to assume those chairs are gone. MotherFUCK! I s2g...)

You do get a 🥠 for the Miller's Girl ref. I actually have a deleted scene that involves fortune cookies...might use it elsewhere in the UVCniverse. So...what's your fortune (sorry, dogs tryna sleep and I don't want to turn the lights on).

GOD WHAT THE

Even the fortune cookies are pressuring me 😭😭😭😭😭

Yes I happen to have a bag of fortune cookies by my couch... don't all Asians? 👹 They're $1 a bag here.

Anyhoo...thanks for the continued mystery and well wishes. I was told I wouldn't make it past 40 (and I was told that when I was 12...nice, huh? The French are so fucking rude 🤣). Ten years later and I dunno if I should have...it's been ten years of Hell. But since I'm still here, might as well raise my own kind of Hell.

(I have that cane BTW...because House M.D. is my true spirit animal.)

[1987vampire]

Proxies x reader NSFW HCs

alot of these scenes will actually most likely end up in this story im writing lmao, so stick around if you want to see them fleshed out

Let's get the obvious beginner out of the way.

Toby is a tits man, Brian likes ass, and Tim is happy with whatever (he likes tits more he just doesn't want to be rude)

Now, let's start with Toby

Toby is the most submissive bottom you will meet in your life.

Has slipped a bit too far into subspace a few times, and you've had to stop immediately once you realized.

Motherfucker just wants to be dommed and dommed hard. Just tell him what to do, please.

Has the biggest fucking mommy kink (which contributes to his love for tits because the motherfucker will lavish those bitches like no other when given the chance)

Also has the biggest praise kink you will ever see. Has came embarrassingly fast because you called him your good boy.

99 percent of his knowledge of sex comes from porn so,, he's going to have to be retaught most everything.

Has definitely groped your tit too hard on multiple occasions because he thought it was the right thing to do.

Surprisingly good learner, though. Just wants to make you happy.

He's the best one for quickies out of all of them only because he cums extremely fast while still prioritizing you.

(He makes up for how fast he cums by how many times he can do it. Motherfucker will paint you white all over before his body gives out. Plus, his CIPA makes it to where he can't feel the burning in his legs as he fucks you for hours. Has literally kept going until his body gave out because you wanted him to.)

All the boys have very specific thoughts on oral. Toby will give or receive, whichever makes you happier, but when he's allowed to go down on you, it's like you're his last meal.

It's one of the only time's he'll disobey your commands because it doesn't matter if you've already came three times??? He's still eating, lady, shhh.

Tried to dom one (1) time. Not doing that again. Dude started crying half-way through because he thought he was hurting you and your feelings by ordering you around.

You had to pause and take a bath with him afterwards while he calmed down. He spent half the bath blubbering into your neck and apologizing more times than you could count.

Now, Brian is the exact opposite of Toby.

You asked to try and let him be the bottom a single time and he fucked you so hard you couldn't walk the next day.

A little shithead who loves blowjobs. Will give you head, but much prefers you on your knees with him stuffed so far in that he’s tapping the back of your throat and you’re gripping his thighs while he uses you for nothing more than his pleasure in the moment. 

Will mix degradation in with praise like he's been doing it his entire life. Has given you whiplash multiple times because of it.

He's so loud, too. Toby is whiny and begs, but this dude is in your ear with low grunts and groans, his voice spilling the foulest words he can think of.

Has you seeing stars while mumbling into your neck shit like "your pretty little pussy's taking me so well - like you were built to be my cocksleeve. Just a cumslut who takes whatever I give you. Look at you, all fucked out of your mind, pretty little baby. Can't wait to paint your fuckin' insides. It's what whores like you deserve."

He's also the best at aftercare, though. You normally have to take care of Toby after, and Tim does jack shit unless needed.

Brian, though, has his dresser packed with shit to take care of you with after. Will bathe you, dress you, tell you little reassurances, make sure you're okay.

He's also best at knowing when to stop. He can sense your hesitation as if he's the one feeling it.

Because of his dirty mouth, he's had to break off sessions early a few times. The biggest was when you started crying halfway through him fucking you missionary, and not the kind of crying he liked (because let's be real, this motherfucker loves to see you cry and beg to cum.)

He had called you a whore a few too many times through the session, and you had taken it a bit too close to heart (it was something that hit a bit harder than needed since you were dating multiple men at once.)

He spent the whole night cuddling you and reassuring you that he didn't really mean it. He loved you, they all did, it was just for the roleplay. "Stop crying, pretty baby, we're okay. I'm not actually mad. Let me see a smile, c'mon, doll."

Also, let me mention that because y'all are so fucking loud, Tim has banged on the door quite a few times trying to get you to calm down.

Tim made the mistake of grumbling to himself during dinner one time in front of you and Brian that 'you're so fucking loud it sounds like you're recording a goddamn porno in there.'

If you hadn't been choking on your food so hard, you might have noticed the sly grin that crossed Brian's face, though it was brought back later when he ended up filming you quite a few times from that night. It wouldn't be posted anywhere - fuck that, you were theirs, and no one else's.

(he did accidentally share a video of you cumming to the group chat all four of you were in on accident while sending cute pictures of the two of you. The mortification of hearing your moans come through the speaker of Toby's phone while he stared at it dumbfounded was enough for you to not talk to Brian for a whole week. It didn't matter if they had seen you like that before, it was still embarrassing!)

(Brian didn't tell you that the other two - Tim especially - had been sent worse videos than that.)

SPEAKING OF TIM.

Let's get started with this man. Tim is the laziest motherfucker known to man but it is nice. 

Really, he’s not lazy, he’s just tired a lot, and he doesn’t want to put the effort in the fuck you senseless when you’ve got two others for that. 

He prefers sleepy fucking where you’re both half-out-of-it and breathless. He enjoys both of you on your sides with him spooning you, his hips moving just enough to give enough friction for the both of you to cum after a while. You can and will fall alseep right after with him still buried inside of you.

Speaking of, what’s the best way to get y’all’s sexual tension out while still being lazy (besides just making you ride him which he does very often) ? Cockwarming. 

He won’t even just do it in bed when it’s the two of you. He’s shimmied his pants down just enough for his cock to slip out and pushed your panties aside (since you were only wearing an oversized shirt and underwear. I mean, what did you think would happen?) and made you sit on him in the middle of the living room while the other two were lounging around, too distracted to notice. 

However, if someone does notice (Especially in the beginning because you were horrible at hiding your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing from understimulation) he would not hide it.

“H-hey, y/-y/n, what’s-sss-s with the f-fa-face?” Toby had asked innocently one night while you were all watching TV together. You knew Tim was smirking behind you as he lifted the hem of the big shirt just enough to let Toby know what was going on. Boy blushed so hard and covered his eyes, smacking his face harshly in the process, and Tim and Brian snickered (because of course Brian already knew.)

Cockwarming also means that the second you finally - finally - start fucking, it’s over for the two of you in less than a minute, your fingers clawing at him as you finally get your release after hours. (the longest he’s made the two of you wait was four hours because we’re watching Toby’s favorite movies, we can’t interrupt him, now can we, darlin’?’

He’s also a huge fan of facesitting. Not the biggest fan of receiving blowjobs only because it makes him feel too vulnerable, but he could have you sit on his face for hours and not complain, his hands gripping your ass tight enough to leave bruises as he laved his tongue over your clit over and over. 

The only - only - times Tim has fucked you rough was when it wasn’t even really him. You had been half-asleep with your back to him one time as he rutted into you slowly when you suddenly felt yourself flipped so you were ass up with your face being pushed into the mattress, his hips jutting at a speed you didn’t know he could reach.

You didn’t even have to look back to know that Masky - his alter that didn’t show himself too often around you - had taken over. 

During getting fucked that time by Masky, you ended up so deep in subspace, trying to please the man you didn’t get too see that often that you let him him rip orgasm after orgasm from you until you couldn’t think straight and you entered a space where all you felt was pleasure, and you couldn’t even see straight.

You were brought out of it by Tim pressing a cold rag to your forehead, whispering sweet nothings to you as he tried to get you to come to, apologizing profusely for letting it happen. You had just grinned and - though your voice was thoroughly fucked up from screaming - told him to let Masky know he could do that again any time. Tim had gotten so flustered that he walked out of the room for a few minutes. 

Speaking of alters real quick.

Tim and Brian are the only ones to have them - Masky and Hoody respectfully, of course - and they come out around you very little. Hoody comes out more than Masky though, and you can tell the difference in how quiet Brian will get. 

Hoody and Masky have fucked you both separately and together (so have Tim and Brian but we’ll get to that in a second)

Masky loves you ass and prefers to have you in doggystyle over anything while Brian’s love for blowjobs is only intensified in his alter who will have you gagging on him until you almost pass out. He’ll give you a moment to breathe in just a second, just hold on a little longer, okay?

Hoody is almost always silent besides grunts that let him communicate with Masky. This is apparent even when you’re not fucking, and the three of you have to teach yourselves how to decipher the man’s made up language. 

Masky is quiet too, but will grumble to himself more than anything, calling you the worst name’s he can think of while he slams into you so hard that you don’t even have to move yourself to give Hoody a proper blowjob, his grip on your hips and force of his thrusts are enough to have you bouncing back and forth quickly. 

It’s not like you could really move anyways, not when Masky’s picking you up by your thighs and holding your hips up as he plows into you.

They love spitroasting but have definitely done double penetration even if you complain that you’re not prepped. Who cares? You’re obviously ready for it, look at you already cumming even though they haven’t moved. 

Now, as for threesomes and or foursomes

Nine times out of ten, Toby is too embarrassed to do anything in front of the other two. Maybe if you coax him enough, reassure him that nobody will judge, he might join in for the night, but it’s an incredibly rare occurrence. Watching Brian boss you around is enough to make him squirm. You were supposed to be in change, not him? But there you were with your tongue sticking out as you rolled your hips against Tim, ready to fit either of them in your mouth. The other can always take another hole. 

Toby not wanting to join doesn’t really both the other two though, and though it’s still not as common to have a threesome compared to one on one, Tim and Brian are always ready to share. Especially when you look so pretty whining into the air as you take both of them at once. 

You don’t mind if Brian takes a few photos, right? I mean, just look at you! This is a perfect moment to capture. Ignore the fact that you’re now Tim’s home screen, your pretty tits out in the open as his cock is buried inside of you, Brian’s hand gripping the flesh of your hip. Why wouldn’t he want to see it all the time?

The same applies to them as their alters. Spitroasting is their absolute favorite, though Tim prefers it if you ride him while you slobber all over Brian instead of him having to use his energy to fuck you into oblivion. 

They love double penetration as well, but once they tried to fit both of them in your pussy instead of one in your ass and you came so hard that you passed out. It’s brought out on special occasions after a l o t of prep.

really, overall. you have a boy for whatever mood you're in and you're literally never horny because the second you mention it someone is on top of you.