#And also cause I’ve realised I have stories I’ve never mentioned on here

[tracle0]

~ Intro page ~

Howdy! I’m Trade, a 22-year-old writer and aspiring conservationist from the UK. I can often be found hunched over my sketchbook, walking in the wilderness, or travelling to whichever county I can find volunteering opportunities in. 

This blog is primarily for any odd interest I have, although I angle it as a writerblr the most. You can find my art and occasional writing under the #trade-marked tag on this here blog. Following this are the current, past, and future WIPs I have. Please enjoy!

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Prophet story (title pending) (in progress) - when a prophets brother is possessed by a god-killing sickness, a race begins to preserve or destroy the last relics of dead divinity, and refuse or give forgiveness for errors of the past. Featuring the complexities of brotherhood, the thin line between “prophet” and “schizophrenic”, a divine and glorious anger and a desperate attempt to reach someone who may already be lost to you. Tagged under #prophet wip

The Spiders Song (complete!) - With a devastating plague wrecking a kingdom and a city, a group of semi-experienced people try and retrieve a cure in time to save their homes - and try not to kill each other on the way. Featuring enemies-to-friends, a patron-based magic system with gods who have no problem getting involved in their servants lives, the exact lengths you would go through to save someone you love, and a funny little ghost.  Tagged under #tss 

The Crows Death (sequel to TSS) (on hold) - after retrieving the cure and escaping a cruel gods clutches, peace should be assured to our weary adventurers - until the crowned prince of Glalis is kidnapped and held as a sacrifice, leaving the rest of the team to try and track him down and save him before it’s too late. Featuring the gruelling process of confronting and recovering from trauma, a blood-feud so old that no one can remember why or how it started, intense contemplation of mortality, and a budding and doomed sapphic romance. Tagged under #tcd 

Short story collection (in progress) - a group of interlinked short stories, based in the TSS world, following the only servant to the Spider to ever escape their god, and the process they underwent as a child to adjust to the real world. Featuring adoptive parental figures, an extreme skew on how the world works, a secret our servant has to learn to keep to themselves, and a constant lure back to a manipulative and cloying god, who waits only a short walk away from this new haven. Tagged under #atlas 

Necromancer WIP (title pending) (developing) - the next generation after TCD. When the next necromancer is finally born in one of the highest and richest levels of Glalis, the kingdom seems to be fully recovering and back to normal - until a second is discovered in the lowest, poorest part. This spare servant is taken from her community to the palace, and starts to notice the discrepancies between where she was raised and what these privileged elites seem to have. Featuring strong class conflicts and ties, young children trying to make sense of a complex issue, an exploration of privilege and magic in deprived societies, and characters carried onwards from the previous stories because it’s my book and I do what I want. Untagged.

Ghost WIP (title pending) (developing) - a young girl is marked as the new bearer of the ghost crown, which is already bad news, made worse by the fact she’s still alive. Featuring a begrudgingly made father figure, a reverse heist, a race against bounty hunters to stay alive, and a corrupting and powerful heirloom, calling for one girls head. Tagged under #ghost wip 

Colour WIP (title pending) (developing) - when a rare purple mage is found living in isolation with her paranoid parents, she is taken under the wing of a blind red mage, and able to learn about her magic whilst staying connected to her roots. Featuring a magic system that merges Waterbending with the colour wheel, intense political and class divides, and an mentor/apprentice plot of some sort. Untagged. 

Death is a Silvertongue (complete!) - a mute Silvertongue tries to balance the guilt of manipulation with the responsibility of using their ability correctly - and then blows up a factory, adding a ghostly crowd to their conscious. Featuring intense platonic love, dabblings with faith, recovery, and me having a lot of fun with the extreme limitations of British Sign Language in America. Tagged under #dias 

[no-144444]

pale blue- o.piastri

your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

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Baku. If you won this weekend, you’d be ahead of Max in the standings.

Quali came around much too quick, and it was only your first time on the circuit. Everyone seemed to forget the fact that you were a rookie, just because you were winning. You were on your final push lap, it was going well, but all it had to do was get you out of the bottom 5 (which you were in right now). 

“Yellow flags!” Oscar called over the radio, causing you to instinctively slow down. 

“What happened?” you panicked, radioing in. 

“I’m not sure, but… we’re P15 and time is over. Sorry Y/n.” 

“Fuck,” you whispered, hitting your steering wheel. “Where’s Norris?”

“He’s through.” 

“The team can get a win this weekend, sorry about this guys,” you sighed, driving your car back into the pits and getting out of the car to get weighed and do your interviews. The time passed, and the debrief was clear, Lando was up in P2, ready to take the win tomorrow as you were once again, put on the back foot. 

As you walked out of the room, pretty ready for a night of watching movies on your lonesome (you could finally look at screens again), Oscar came up to you. 

“My family is here,” he told you. “If you’d like to meet them, we’re getting dinner. You’re more than welcome to join-”

“I wouldn’t want to impose-” you started.

“Please,” he begged. “My sisters really want to meet you.”

You smiled. “I’ll head back to the hotel and get changed.”

He smiled. “I’ll pick you up.”

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He was shitting bricks when he knocked on your hotel room door. He was wearing a pale blue shirt and linen pants, something his mum had gifted him, and all he wanted was to see you have a night of being relaxed. He knew his family could be quite crazy, but he thought his mum’s sarcastic humor, Hattie’s easy conversation, Eddie’s laid back nature, Mae’s endless stories, his dad’s kind nature, and Tim’s easy charisma, it would all go well. They could do most of the talking, and you could just watch and enjoy it, even if you didn’t feel like talking. 

You opened the door, a beautiful pale blue dress on your body, finalising your outfit with a pair of earrings. He stood there, stunned. 

You were gorgeous. That was a fact he had been made acutely aware of months ago, but you were really beautiful tonight. He didn’t speak, and your cheeks heated as you let out an awkward laugh. 

“I’m ready, sorry it took so long,” you smiled, stepping out from your room. “Let me just grab my jacket,” you said before turning and walking back into your room. His jaw actually dropped seeing the backless dress that went down to the end of your back. Thankfully, he picked his jaw back up before you turned around.

“These are for you,” he said, handing over the bouquet that had been clutched in his hand for a few moments, also pale blue lilies. 

“They’re beautiful,” you smiled, surprised by the gesture. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

He frowned again, but smiled before you caught him. “I’m glad I could be the first one.”

You smiled, placed the flowers in your room, and joined him in the hallway. “So where are we going?”

“My mum found this really nice restaurant just a few minutes walk from here, if that’s alright?” 

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed. As you two walked to the restaurant, you chatted about the weekend ahead, ideas for strategies, and at some point, he’d linked his arm with yours. You didn’t really mind.

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The Piastri family were hilarious. Mae had told you so many stories by the time the appetisers rolled around, that you actually had to brace yourself against Oscar to stop yourself from falling off your chair. You were sat across from Mae, with Oscar to your left and Tim to your right. Their easy banter was amusing to say the least, and the conversations you had with Hattie about music, and with Eddie about her college courses were truly enjoyable. You loved hearing about their lives, such stark contrast to yours. Nicole and you ended up speaking about pilates and Oscar’s affinity for not doing his own laundry (you’d lived with him for two weeks, she apologised). By the end of the night, they’d all become your friends, and you’d barely seen Oscar, but he’d been watching you all night. He’d seen the way your eyes lit up every time Hattie mentioned a band or song you liked, how you listened so intently to Mae’s stories, how you cared about the topics his mum spoke about, how you threw jokes back and forth with his dad and stepdad, how you asked such good questions about Eddie’s studies. 

He loved it. He loved seeing you be free. He loved seeing you smile. He loved seeing you happy. 

“I love gardening actually,” you answered when Nicole asked if you had any hobbies. 

“She has a beautiful garden in Monaco,” Oscar explained, getting his phone out to show pictures. You felt yourself beam with pride. Pride wasn’t an emotion you allowed yourself to feel very often, but Oscar’s unashamed pride on your behalf must’ve been rubbing off on you, because you went through your entire garden in detail and gave Tim some advice on his garden. 

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You walked out of the restaurant feeling lighter than you had in a long time. You weren’t thinking about racing, you weren’t thinking about McLaren, you weren’t thinking about the tall order that tomorrow would bring, you were thinking about Oscar. He was busy saying good night to his family, wishing them well and telling them he’d see them tomorrow, and you stood and watched. He was so… Oscar. So calm, so loving, so caring. It made you feel… good. He made you feel good. Being near him made you feel good. 

He turned to you and linked your arms, both of you starting the walk back to the hotel. “What did you think? Too much?”

You smiled. “They’re perfect. Very kind, very intelligent, very nice people, just like you. I see where you get it from.”

He beamed with pride. The night was a success. You had enjoyed yourself, and his family had met one of the most important people in his life. “I’m glad.”

“I’m really happy I came, thank you for inviting me, Osc,” you smiled.

“No problem,” he whispered. 

The rest of the walk back to the hotel was quiet, but he noticed how you held him closer than before, up until you finally got outside your room. You leant against the door, a bashful smile on your face. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “I really had fun, for the first time in a while. Thank you, Osc.”

His heart was beating out of his chest. The prettiest girl in the whole world had a nickname for him. “I’m really glad you came, I had a lot of fun too,” he admitted. He took a step closer. 

Was he going to kiss you? Did you want him to?

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smirked, close enough to kiss you, but all he did was hug you, tucking your head into his neck. “You’ll do great tomorrow.”

“If I win it can I meet your family again?” you asked in a small, nervous voice. He chuckled. 

“You can. But you also could probably see them whenever you want, you have all of their phone numbers,” he reminded you. 

You shook your head. “I want you there too.”

“I’ll be there,” he whispered. “I’m always here for you, you know that, right?” 

You nodded gently. So small, he almost didn’t feel it. 

But he did. It was there. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, then retreated into your bedroom. 

You fell against your bed, so many questions swirling around your head as you pondered your growing feelings for your race engineer. He did the same thing. He sat at the end of his bed, wondering what he would do. He thought back to what his mother told him. 

She held him close, hugging him as the night ended. 

“She’s happier,” she smiled, talking about you. 

“Yeah?” he asked. “What did you think of her?”

“I think she’s wonderful,” Nicole smiled. “The girls love her too. And I suspect you do too.”

He sighed, nodding. His mum always found out. She smirked. 

“How do I-?” he questioned but she stopped him. 

“It’ll happen, with time,m” she assured him. “She likes you too, she’s just not there yet. Don’t worry about it too much. Just be there for her. She needs someone.”

“I am here for her,” he assured her. “She wanted to meet you guys so badly,” he chuckled. 

“She’s alone, isn’t she?” she asked. He knew better than to lie to his mum and nodded. 

“I’m glad she has you Osc,” she smiled. “She’s good for you. You’re good for her.” 

“I hope so,” he chuckled. 

“It will be, with time,” she reminded him with a kiss to the cheek. “We’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

“Love you too mum,” he smiled. 

He just needed to wait. He was good at that. He was a patient man, and if waiting meant seeing the real you with your real smile in that damned pale blue dress again, he’d wait a million lifetimes just to make you happy. 

God, that was a little bit pathetic, wasn’t it? 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ Baku was one of your favourite circuits, you decided when you sat on the grid, waiting for the lights to go out. You had a good start, gaining places. Up in the points in one corner. After overtaking a while, a few laps of shouting at Oscar over the radio about pitting, you came into the pits, went back out, and somehow, got to the lead. 

And you crossed the line first. Again. 

“I guess we’re getting dinner again tonight,” you chuckled, a smile on your face. 

“I guess we are,” Oscar nodded. “Stellar drive,” he commented. “Well done.”

7 time Grand Prix winner. You stepped up on the top of the podium, and you enjoyed it. You were the Champion, as of that day. Oscar took his celebratory selfie with some more of the team, and dinner was set for 8pm. 

You liked Baku quite a lot.

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[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Snow Drop Part. 9

Description: Jacaerys seeks to convince the serving girl he's fallen in love with to be his princess. Y/N teaches Jacaerys the joys of hot chocolate in Dragonstone's kitchen, where secrets of her scarred past are revealed to the Prince.

Writer’s Note: Hey guys, Elizabeth here with an update to my Jacaerys story. Sorry for the long hiatus. I’ve been unwell and unable to write but back on track now, hopefully. There will also be two more parts uploaded in the next two days. Hope you guys enjoy! Dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Warnings: Female reader, mentions of past sexual assault and trauma.

Y/N tentatively handled the tiaras Jacaerys had so thoughtfully procured for her to look at, knowing by now of her fascination with princesses. She had been embarrassed about this at first, but quickly came to consider it as a further sign of his sweetness to her: that he not only indulged her in her interest, specifically reading of Targaryen princesses to her, but also actively encouraged her to view herself as one of their number. As his Princess. Each of the tiaras were more beautiful than she had the words to express and she could never have imagined, as a young girl dreaming of being a Princess, that she would be handling such precious objects. Each one bore an intricate design, encrusted with priceless gems of Ruby, emerald, topaz and quartz, as Jacaerys would explain whenever she asked what each was called. So enamoured with looking into the gems was she, that she did not notice Jacaerys smiling fondly at her, as he leant against a nearby pillar observing her.

One diadem, in particular, caught her attention, its beauty evoking in her a sense of wonder surpassing that of all the previous ones. This one she lifted more tentatively, holding it to the moonlight to observe how it shone through the white gems like distilled starlight. She gasped as the light passed through the gems and she realised that the delicate foiling around them was meant to resemble snowdrops. Her favourite flower. She then noticed the intricate dragon design interwoven throughout the piece, closely resembling Jacaerys' dragon. She looked up at Jacaerys and met his own gaze, intently trained on hers, as if in anticipation of her reaction. She hesitantly questioned, "this is the most beautiful. Are these snowdrops? The gems look just like the petals. And this dragon looks so much like Vermax." As she spoke, Jacaerys smiled knowingly, responding in a teasing voice: "I am glad that my Princess has found a crown to her liking although, of course, she shall have all of them."

Taking slow steps toward her, he took the tiara from her hands, brushing his fingers against hers as he did so, and placed it on her head. As he affectionately tucked a loose lock of hair behind her hair and stroked her cheek, he met her quizzical gaze with his own adoring one. "I hope you do not think it presumptuous, but I designed this one myself. I wanted to show you how much you are woven into mine own heart, my Princess." Her mouth parted in surprise at this. She had not thought that these tiaras were for her; they were entirely too beautiful, too precious.

The thought that Jacaerys had specifically designed this one for her, to resemble her favourite flower, interlocking with the symbol of his House, made her heart almost burst with affection for him. She felt tears welling in her eyes at his thoughtfulness, which caused a look of alarm to alight in Jacaerys' eyes, as he frantically took hold of her elbows in his hands. "What's wrong, my dove. Have I upset you in some manner? I did not mean to rush you, if that is it." Hearing the panicked note in his voice, she quickly silenced him, pulling the fabric of his tunic so that she could reach, as she crashed her lips onto his. As he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer to him, he lowered his head so she would not have to reach for him, and smiled against her lips as she brought a hand up to toy with his hair. It still warmed his heart that she should like his hair, even find it beautiful, when so many others had viewed it as an impediment. When she finally pulled away, Jacaerys making it a rule never to do so first, they were both breathless and Jacaerys not a little dazed as he struggled to say something witty. He only managed to say, "I take it you liked my gift, then, my Princess" in a breathless voice before she burst out laughing and he smiled in contentment at the sweet sound.

It was late on the next evening, when Y/N made her way back down to the servants' quarters after a long day. She had been particularly busy that day and hadn't found the time to meet Jacaerys at the library. She hoped he wouldn't mind, even if she herself missed him, but she quickly banished the thought. It was silly to think he should miss her after only a short time.

As she rounded the final hallway back to the kitchens, to make herself a hot beverage before bed, she was startled to see Prince Jacaerys casually leaning against a wall, smiling and standing up straight when he saw her approach. She excitedly skipped up to him, grabbing his elbows in her hands as she smiled up at him. "And what brings you down here at such an hour, my Prince". Jacaerys could not stop his heart from stuttering at her appellation, knowing now that she meant to say that he was her Prince. Wanting to feel her touch, he playfully tapped his jaw, before she rolled her eyes and rose on tiptoe to kiss the place he had indicated.

Before she could, however, he quickly turned his head to capture her lips with his, smiling against her lips as he heard her startled squeak, before she raised her palms to steady herself against his chest. When she drew away, breaking the kiss, she swatted his chest playfully. "That was not very Princely". He lowered his head to kiss her jaw, "my apologies, my Princess. I hope you will forgive me." She affectionately patted his jaw, still encircled within his arms as he gazed lovingly down at her. His voice suddenly turning serious, he looked at her intently. "I was concerned when I did not see you today or later in the library. I worried that you were unwell." Her heart stuttering at his concern for her, she pressed her palm to his cheek as he placed his own above her hand to hold it in place and lean into her touch. "It was only that I had many duties to attend to today and did not have the time, nothing more than that." He frowned at that. "I do not like to think of you working so hard that you only return to your own chambers at such an hour. If you would only let me tell my mother of our betrothal and allow me to have you moved to the Royal apartments, I..." she interrupted him once more with a quick peck to his lips. "Not yet, I will tell you when I'm ready," She added in a contrite tone.

He dejectedly nodded his head but took her hand and raised it to his lips, all the same." As you wish, my Princess. Would you at least promise to find me in the library to walk you back, in future. I do not like the thought of you traversing these dark halls alone at such an hour." Nodding at him, she playfully rolled her eyes at his protectiveness, even as her heart secretly skipped a beat at it. "Will you allow me to escort you back to your room now?" He asked hopefully. "I was actually just making my way to the kitchen to make a hot beverage before bed, would you like to join me?" He smiled jubilantly at her suggestion, taking hold of her hand. "Lead the way, Princess" He said, being sure he would follow her anywhere if she asked him to. Interlocking her fingers with his, she dragged him in the way of the kitchen.

Jacaerys smiled at the sight of her hand interlocked with his and affectionately squeezed hers as she led him to the kitchen. This late at night, the fire from the lanterns on the walls cast a golden, ambient glow on the stone walls, creating a warm atmosphere. As Y/N withdrew her hand from Jacaerys', he found himself reflexively reaching his hand out to recapture hers, making her laugh. Seeing his uncharacteristically bashful look, she patted his jaw affectionately and pointed at a nearby chair at the kitchen bench. "Take a seat Jacaerys. I'll make the drinks." Jacaerys obediently sat but was quick to ask her if he could help and was surprised when she laughed again. "That won't be necessary, My Prince." Smirking at her, he teasingly questioned, "and what is so funny, may I ask?" She could not repress her smile as she responded in an equally teasing manner, "only that I highly doubt a Prince would know the first thing about using a kitchen. Have you ever even boiled some water?" Jacaerys had a sheepish expression on his face as he said, "well...not exactly, but I'm sure I could learn and I would be very happy to help. You shouldn't be making me a drink for me after finishing your other duties. Perhaps if you show me how to do it, I can do it for you next time."

Y/N had been fully prepared to tease Jacaerys over his lack of competence in the kitchen, but his sweet offer to learn how to make her favourite drink for her made her walk up to him instead at his perch on a bench, so that she was between his legs, and kiss him. His arms immediately reached out to encircle her waist and pull her toward him. When she broke the kiss, she delighted to note that he had a slight dazed expression on his face. She loved to elicit such a response from kissing him, pleased that he should be as affected by her as she was by him. Rubbing his hands up and down her back, he smiled at her as he questioned, "and what did I do to merit such a response?" She brushed a lock of his hair from his forehead and smiled at him, "You're just sweet." His smile expanded at this, as he pinched her cheek, "not as sweet as you, my Princess."

As he leant down to recaptured her lips, she pressed her forefinger to his lips before skipping away from him, his arms reaching out as if to stop her. She giggled at the pout on his face, "I shall never get my hot chocolate if I allow you to distract me." He smirked at this, saying in a cocky tone, "so you find me distracting, my Princess?" Rolling her eyes, she lifted the saucepan and held it over the stove she had just lit to boil the milk, "only because you are so annoying". She laughed as his pout, which she was sure he didn't realise he did, returned, finding the expression adorable.

As she prepared the hot chocolate, mixing the heated milk and spices of cinnamon, cardamon, and nutmeg in the pot, she caught glimpses of Jacaerys leaning up from his seat to watch her, a look of intense concentration on his face. She tried not to laugh at his evident confusion, most likely thinking she was performing some feat of sorcery. Her heart warmed to see him mouthing the steps of the process as if to commit them to memory for future reference. The thought of the Prince of the Realm making her hot chocolate was at once inexpressibly sweet and funny.

After ladling the warm milk, steeped in chocolate and spices, into two mugs, she made to carry them over to the table where Jacaerys was sitting. No sooner had she reached out to do so then she heard Jacaerys run the short distance from the bench he was perched on to her. Wrapping an arm around her torso, he playfully spun her so that she was behind him, smirking at her surprised expression. Lifting the tray with their drinks on it, and snatching a kiss to her cheek, he began to walk back to the table, inclining his head to indicate that she should follow him. She raised her brow in mock displeasure and placed her hands on her hips, "I am more than capable of lifting two mugs on my own, Jacaerys". Smiling playfully at her, he rejoined, "I would not want my Princess to burn her beautiful hands, not when her Prince can take the burden from her." She blushed furiously at this, not least because she had the hands of a serving maid, rather than a lady, and yet he still found them beautiful. No man had ever been so considerate of her wellbeing and of her feelings...not even when she had believed that one had been.

She shook her head to rid herself of that unwanted thought and instead redirected her gaze to Prince Jacaerys, her Prince, patting the bench next to him to urge her to sit. A smile spread across her face at the sight and she half skipped to sit beside him. As soon as she had sat down, Jacaerys frowned down at the small space she had left between them. Raising his own eyebrow playfully, as she had done before, he wrapped his arm around her torso and pulled her flush against his side. He smiled triumphantly at her as he saw her trying to suppress her own smile and look reproachfully at him. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to the side of her jaw, whispering against it, "I prefer to keep you this close to me." Pulling away to see her reaction to his teasing, he smiled at the blush on her cheeks as she tried to turn her head away from his gaze. Gently taking hold of his lady's chin between his forefinger and thumb, he turned her face back to his, and stroked her jaw with his thumb. "I would have you be this close to me forever and always, my dove." He lowered his head slowly to press a reverent, lingering kiss to her forehead, before moving back to allow her space to recover herself from his attentions.

A moment later, Y/N interlocked their hands together on the bench and smiled shyly up at him. Quickly shifting his gaze from their interlocked hands to meet his lady's shy gaze, he looked into her eyes with a tender expression, dazed by the sweetness of her affectionate gesture. He squeezed her hand in his, content to feel her delicate hand enclosed within his own, as he raised their hands to rest them against his lap. She smiled at him in response, and he felt his heart stutter at her beauty and the comforting thought that she was pleased by his attentions.

For so long he had been under the painful impression that she would never return his love for her, and that he would be forced to love her in silence. Coughing lightly, Y/N pushed a mug, with her free hand, across the table in Jacaerys’ direction. "Stop looking so pleased with yourself, Jacaerys and try the drink I so carefully made for you." He smirked at her as he replied, "what was that, my dove? I will, of course, be only too pleased to try the drink you so lovingly made for me." He tried to repress a laugh as he watched a look of realisation pass over his lady's features at his emphasis on the word 'lovingly'. His heart swelled with affection for his lady as she adorably swatted his shoulder, "drink the hot chocolate, you knave." His face immediately fell from its previous look of elation at her appellation. Pouting, he grumbled, "what happened to your Prince?" Half hoping she would kiss him for his troubles, he was surprised, but no less pleased, when she lightly took hold of his chin in her hand. Tapping the tip of his nose, she laughed as she told him to "remove the long face. I will give you a kiss if you drink it." His eyes suddenly lit up as he quickly lifted the mug to his lips, burning his tongue in his attempt to claim the proffered reward of his love's affection.

At his slightly pained expression, Y/N brushed her lips against Jacaerys' in the ghost of a kiss, as his eyes fluttered closed in contentment. He little cared if he burned his mouth if the feel of her soft, precious lips on his would be the reward. Drawing away, she tapped his jaw, smiling indulgently at him. "You are a silly boy." A grin spread on his face at her teasing, "I am not sure how well that bodes for the realm, for the Prince to be a 'silly boy'" He sighed, "but If I am to be thought so, it is only on the condition that I am your silly boy." He looked into her eyes intently at this, hoping to convey the seriousness of his meaning behind his eyes, even if his tone was light and teasing.

He really did mean to say that he would be happy to be called any playful insult she had for him, if only to be thought hers. If she would only continue to honour him with her love and trust and to look to him for comfort and protection, both for her person and her heart. He had not realised how long he had been staring at her, as if he couldn't believe she was real, he laughed again and he realised he must look a fool. Coughing lightly he took another sip of the drink to appease her. "It's delicious, you are most skilled." In truth, she could have made him a noxious concoction and he would have said much the same, favouring the drink merely because his lady had been the one to make it with her lovely hands. "I have never had such a drink." Smiling tenderly at him, she sipped her own drink and he nearly became distracted, again, in staring at her lips.

"It's called hot chocolate. My mother used to make it for me on special occasions when we had the money for the chocolate. It was rare but it was all the more special for it. Of course we wouldn't have made it with milk but it was just as nice with hot water. The point was that it was our special thing that we would look forward to doing together. We would take turns coming up with new recipes with the spices we had and it became almost a game to make the best recipe out of what we had." A dreamy expression settled onto Y/N's features as she relayed her childhood memories. "She'd usually save some for my birthday and she'd make me a cup before reading me a story. Those are some of my fondest memories, listening to my mother read me a story by candlelight, burrowed under the blankets. Even now the smell of it reminds me of those times and of her." There's always a steady supply of chocolate here, one of the many perks of serving Queen Rhaenyra." Y/N smiled nonchalantly at Jacaerys when she had finished her story but was surprised to see that his own expression looked almost pained. Before she could ascertain the reason, he carefully raised his knuckle to gently caress the side of her cheek, looking at her with a look of utmost concern. "It is a beautiful memory to have. I would love to have met your mother. I confess that it pains me to think of you suffering any hardships, my dove. I would shield you from any difficulties if could."

She found herself, once again, stunned by his consideration for her feelings and her past struggles. Even now he stared into her eyes with his warm brown ones, as if he wanted to protect her from all the evils of the world....even one so little as an absence of hot chocolate. That last thought made her laugh again, which caused Jacaerys to frown, not understanding the cause. He asked his next question in a tentative voice, as if fearful of her answer, "do not you believe me, my love?". She patted his chest affectionately, smiling as she responded, "it is only the thought of you defending me from a shortage of hot chocolate that makes me laugh." His eyes lit up mischievously and he smirked as he responded in a teasing tone. "I hope my lady will take my genuine concern for her hot chocolate needs more seriously. I shall have a shipment of chocolate brought in from the Gullet if it shall please my Princess. If I have to sack King's Landing for a steady supply, I will have no hesitation." He rejoiced as his Princess broke out into laughter at this, delighted to have elicited such a sweet sound from her, even if he was only half joking. He would have to see the kitchens had a steady supply of the drink for his lady and he would learn to make it himself, so that he could surprise her.

The Prince and his love talked late into the night, as the guttering candles along the walls attested to. Jacaerys paid little heed to the passage of time, engrossed in anything that his lady had to say, no matter the topic. His fascination with her far exceeded her own in even Princes and dragons, viewing her as by far the most wonderful being in existence.

One thought did keep clawing its way to the surface of his mind: What was the cause for his lady's continual evasions of his requests to announce their betrothal? He sought to understand what could be the cause of her delays and if he could remedy any concerns she might have. He could not but worry that it was her difficulty trusting in him that was the cause...that she had changed her mind about him. Resolving to uncover the cause without further delay, he took a deep breath as he prepared for her answer. "What is it that leads you to delay our marriage, my dove? Is it something I can remedy or...is it" He stuttered, "is it me that is is the problem? Do you not yet trust in the depths of my love for you?" She looked momentarily stunned at his directness, having hoped to evade this question for longer, she began looking frantically anywhere but his eyes. Jacaerys once again brought his hand up to gently cup her cheek and turn her face back to meet his own gaze. "Please answer me, my love. I am in agony fearing that it is your distrust in myself which causes this delay. If it is so, tell me what I can do to prove my love for you." He looked at her with so much sincerity and genuine concern in his eyes that she felt she could no longer conceal the real reason for her delay. Whilst she loved Jacaerys and could think of no greater happiness than marrying him, she was also painfully aware of her having felt the same way about another man who had betrayed her trust.

She could not completely erase the fear from her mind that Jacaerys would do the same. She realised that she would have to be completely honest with him if he were to fully allay her fears. She took a deep breath, as she prepared to reveal the cause of her delays and risk his potential rejection. "I wish to tell you something which should go some way to explaining my hesitation. But it may also change your opinion of me. You may not wish to marry me when you hear it. She spoke in a quiet, tentative voice, which expressed her concern that he would be displeased with her. Hearing her dejected tone, Jacaerys took hold of both of her hands in his, cradling them in his lap, as he urged her to continue. Gazing intently into her eyes, hoping to convey the intensity of his love for her in them, he spoke in a resolute tone: "I can already assure you, my sweet, that nothing could ever shake my most earnest desire to marry you. You are and shall remain the Princess of my heart, even should you decide, yourself, to cast me aside." Not fully convinced by this, but nonetheless comforted by his assurance, Y/N continued. "When I was younger, I fell in love with another man. He, too, told me he loved me and made a proposal of marriage. I was foolish enough then to believe in the honesty of his intentions, blinded by my love for him. I was made all too aware of his intentions, however, when...."

Seeing his lady hesitate, intaking a sharp breath and wincing at the memory, he squeezed her hands gently, hesitant to initiate any more intimate embrace as he began to understand what she wished to tell him. He struggled to contain his own anger with the man who had harmed his love, forcing himself to remain outwardly calm, so as not to further alarm her or make her believe herself to be the cause of his ire. Instead, he merely waited patiently for her to continue. "When he tried to force himself on me when I refused to give him what he wanted. I was fortunate that one of the servants boys came across us when they did and intervened. The thought of what could have happened still terrified and haunts me. I had known this man since I was a girl, believing him in earnest when he said that he loved me and wanted to marry me. I am not so naive as to believe every man's promise now. Whilst I do love you Jacaerys and really wish to be your wife, I cannot deny that I still fear that you will change in your manner towards me...that you will betray me in some way or another and that I will have been a fool again. It is hard to give another my trust fully when it was so cruelly trampled the first time."

As she finished speaking, he felt his heart string tugged painfully as he saw her lip tremble and her eyes brim with tears, as if she was trying her best not to fall apart in front of him. Her words had pained him inexpressibly, and he found himself struggling to choke back his own tears at the agonising thought of his love having suffered so much pain. He also fought to suppress his rage at the man who had dared to harm both his lady's heart and person. He could not fathom how anyone could harm one so precious and delicate. Jacaerys inwardly resolved that he would find this man, no matter where he was in the Seven Kingdoms, and he would kill him. He quickly filed this thought away, however. His main concern now, and always, would always be his lady. She needed him now. He knew he would have to approach comforting her delicately, in order to make her feel safe after revealing such a traumatic memory. Speaking in a gentle, cautious tone as if she were a startled deer, he asked, 'may I hold you?" He was relieved when she merely nodded before leaning her head forward to rest on his shoulder, and he carefully brought his arms up to hold her protectively to him, one hand caressing her head as he encircled his other arm around her waist. He rubbed his hand up and down her spine as he whispered soft assurances against her hair. "Hush now, my dove. I am here. Thank you for telling me, my brave girl, I understand now. Please believe me when I make you my solemn promise that I will never allow anyone to harm you again."

He held her tighter to him in a protective embrace, wishing he could take her pain from her and make it his own, as she whimpered into his shoulder. Whilst he would not reveal the full extent of his anger towards the villain who had not only assaulted his love, but had also made her feel as if she were to blame. His chest constricted in pain at his dove's admission that she even feared that he would place blame on her. Breathing shakily, he drew back slightly from their embrace to hold Y/N's face in both his hands, looking seriously into her eyes so that she would understand he meant every word he said. "I wish you to understand that none of what happened was your fault. It pains me to think that you would fear any judgement from me on that account, but I understand your feelings. The craven scoundrel who attacked you is solely to blame and you, my dove, are most brave for telling me something, which I know must have been only too painful to recount."

Seeing that her breathing was becoming calmer, as she looked into his eyes, he continued, stroking small circles on her jaw with his thumbs. "I am honoured by the trust you have placed in me in telling me this. I understand, now, your hesitation to trust fully in my love, knowing how cruelly your precious love has been abused in the past. I can only hope that you will allow me to prove in any way you will allow me to that my love and respect for you will never waver." As he finished speaking, only hoping that she would believe in the ardency of his love and respect for her, he was relieved when she buried her head in his chest. Responding immediately to her need for comfort from him, hating to see her cry and desiring only to make her feel safe and protected, he wrapped his arms more securely around her, cradling her head in his hand. As he continued to hold her to him and whisper soft assurances that she was safe in his arms, Jacaerys mentally vowed to protect his precious love from any harm and to personally despatch the man who had dared to harm her.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Sunglasses and Flower Crowns- Glorfindel x Modern!Neurodivergent!Reader

Summary: Glorfindel learns about readers sensory issues while they enjoy each others company

Word count: 1, 112

*If you’d like to be tagged in my next Glorfindel fic then click here*

The ring of golden flowers was beginning to take shape as you spun them together delicately. Sitting under the shade of a large tree somewhere far from the main buildings of Rivendell, you found solitude and calmness.

Though Rivendell was usually a very calm and relaxing place, you still found yourself having to mask and pretend most the time. Manoeuvring social situations in your own world was difficult enough, but now being here, you found it even harder.

This large tree away from everything had quickly become your safe space, where you were free to act and dress how you saw fit.

Arwen had helped you to design a dress and cloak that would hide your modern world clothes and often covered for you when you went on these small journeys. Though she didn’t quite understand your world, she loved hearing your stories and explaining things. She had become your main source of comfort being here, your best friend in a way. She was also the only one you’d explained your masking and sensory issues to; it was difficult at first, but she listened patiently.

Continuing to weave the golden flowers together had made you begin to think of another elf who has supported you so far. Glorfindel had a bright smile for you since the day you met, always saying hello and making you laugh. Though you hadn’t told him as much about your world as you had Arwen, he seemed to fill with such light at even the slightest mention, but never pushing you to tell him more.

You seemed to be so lost in your thoughts of the handsome and kind elf that you hadn’t realised his approach. Glorfindel wasn’t intending on looking for you, he was simply out on his own mind-clearing walk, but when he saw you sat under the tree in clothes he’d never seen before and a strange device over your eyes, his curiosity was peaked.

“Hello, Y/N,” his bright voice filled the once quiet air.

His sudden appearance caused you to let out a quick startled shriek. Holding your hand over your heart you looked up to see the lovely golden-haired elf.

“Oh gosh, sorry, Glorfindel, I didn’t realise you were there,” you half laughed to him, trying to slow your heart.

“Nonsense, it is I who should apologise to you, my lady. Disturbing your peace on such a lovely day.” His soothing voice, filled you with calmness, but his handsome face and strong features stopped you from complete calmness.

“It’s alright, you can join me if you like. Here I’ve already made one flower crown that you can have, and now you can make one for me.” You beam up at him, holding up the golden crown.

“It would be an honour to take such a gift from such a lovely lady, and to return such a gift would be my pleasure.” He said charmingly as he placed the crown on his head and began to collect flowers of his own.

You couldn’t help but watch him as he seemed to glide along the field, taking his time to meticulously pick the perfect flowers for you. Warmth spread all through out you as you watched his gentle movements and his lovely golden locks flowing in the soft breeze. As he came back over, your gaze dropped, and you found yourself playing with your fingers, stimming to calm yourself.

As the elf sat beside you, there seemed to be an unexpected silence. Looking up you noticed Glorfindels gaze was gliding over your attire and your sunglasses.

“Yeh, um, heh, sorry, I-I sometimes like to wear my own clothes when I come here.” You awkwardly explain.

“And these?” He gently asked as his fingers lightly pointed to your glasses.

“Oh, um, they, they’re called ‘sunglasses’ they help shield my eyes from the sun.”

“People where you’re from often wear these?” He asked curiously.

“Yeh, especially where I’m from it’s very sunny so most people wear them.”

“It’s not very sunny today.” Glorfindel noted.

“Yeh, yeh, um,” you begin to feel embarrassed about wearing the glasses on a day that was actually slightly overcast, and even more embarrassed that you might have to explain your sensory issues to him. But he looked at you so patiently and sweetly that your nerves began to float away.

“I, um, I sometimes have sensory issues. Even on a day that isn’t very sunny, the sun can still bother my eyes and makes me feel uncomfortable. The same can happen with noises and textures too.” You explain, your gaze on your stimming fingers.

Surprisingly you see and feel Glorfindels gentle but strong hand placed over yours. His touch is warm, and as you look up at him, so are his kind eyes and sweet smile.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, y/n, and I’m grateful you told me something so personal.” Now it was Glorfindels turn to feel shy. “May I ask a question?”

“Oh, yeh sure, go for it.”

“When we arrive back from our hunts and we sound our horns, is that why you seem to wince at the sound?” He asked, his handsome features beginning to fill with guilt.

“Yes it is.” You admit quietly.

Such information seemed to cause Glorfindel to feel bad, as his own gaze lowered.

“Hey, don’t feel bad. There’s lots of times sounds and lights make me uncomfortable, but I find ways to cope with them.“ You quickly reassure your friend.

“Like your sunglasses and your preference for oversized clothes, both from my world and yours,” he tries to understand.

“Exactly. Besides, I enjoy hearing the horns, I think it’s fun. I love watching you all return on your horses, with the trumpets sounding. Means my friends have come back to me.” You warmly admit, as you take his hands in yours.

His hands are warm and comforting against your own as you begin to trace patterns on his along them. For a moment it looks as though he was about to say something else, but instead he gently squeezes your hands and smiles.

“Well I’m glad that my return brings you such joy. Now I believe I should get started on your crown, my lady. After all mine is so lovely, and I would hate to see you without one also.” He warmly smiles at you as he breaks contact with your hands.

For his hands to leave your touch seems to make him disappointed. Such an idea of him enjoying your sweet touch so much, fills you with joy.

You begin to play with your fingers again, as you watch the great warrior begin to make you your crown.

[bu-blegh-ost]

Let's analyze Captain Rose's final message (ep. 113 spoilers!!!)

I have transcribed the entire thing into my notes, and there are few parts that I believe give us some subtle hints to important lore bits. So let's take a look at these fragments, shall we?

"Even with the Emperor’s gracious accommodations, I can never feel at ease unless I’m sleeping on the sea. Tomorrow, we depart this beautiful country for one last ride."

Nothing that crazy here, but now we have a better grasp at the timeline. So this confirms, that the last place Black Rose Pirates have been to, before they departed for the final adventure led by Hendrix's map was Onowa Country, and judging by what comes next, the chest was also created and left there during that last stay.

"But…if you’re hearing this, it means we all died."

If you recall, Drey mentioned few episodes back, that thier final excursion was of little significance, barely worth remebering. But here Rose is, about to embark on it, his last adventure before he retires, and he believes that he's going to die. That they all are. Rose must have hidden the true importance of this adventure from the rest of his crew. He KNEW that it's very likely they are not coming back from it, he KNEW he is not actually retiring. So, the question is, did Rose truly meant to leave life at sea for his wife and children, or did he chose to retire cause he knew he was about to die and he needed an excuse, to tie all the loose ends before he goes without alarming anyone?

"Even so, freedom can look so different for the individual. Not every pirate’s gonna play fair. I’ve been prepping for this moment a long time. The day I’d be outmaneuvered."

Something happened to Rose before that. If you ask me, something must have been put on Rose. A spell? A deal perhaps? Something must have happened between Rose and Hendrix (I can't be sure it was him ofc, but I feel like it is pretty obvious at this point). The map he gave him was a final retirement gift. Whatever happened, Hendrix surely did or offered something that made Rose unable to refuse the last adventure. Rose was forced to open the Hole in the Sea. He was forced to attempt to free the Nameless Prince, and he knew, he is bringing his crew to possible death. He knew they may not make it out of the sea in time, before whatever he had to do takes effects, before the sea turns black. I don't believe he would do this if he could find another way. This line makes me feel like he was tricked, finally cornered by Hendrix. It would also make sense why Rose never listened to Finn's warnings when he told him abt Hendrix hiding his true arcane ability. It's possible he knew already. It's possible he was already chained by it.

"Now I fear, we’ll be remembered for something we didn’t do."

The hole in the sea. The one thing people always mention when Black Rose pirates are concerned. He was right. But it only proves, that Rose in this entire game was a tool. Just a person forced to do another's bidding, to be at the right place, at the right time. A sacrifice, but not a player. Niklaus told Chip it was Rose who opened the Hole in the Sea. And he was right, kinda. TECHNICALLY it was Rose. But he was not acting of his free will. He was forced to do it. And who made him? Well, probably the one person who knows that it was him.

"Anyways, I think I should have cared about how my friends would remember me. My family…"

A beautiful comparison between Chip and Rose. Rose sought fullfillment, legacy, Chip sought to recreate his childhood, but they both realised that what they always wanted in the end was family. Rose realized it too late, Chip did so on time. And he did manage to create a family he can feel content about, be proud of. Rose's story is a reminder for him, of how things could have ended.

"If my wife is still alive, tell her, tell our child, her child, I’m sorry."

Rose left Onowa knowing he will not retire. He knew he lied to his wife when he told her that he'll raise their child with her. Did he ever mean it? Did he know that he is doomed from the start, or was there a true intention of going back to her, before Hendrix came and his fate was sealed? Also, that makes me think that Reuben is not Rose's biological son. "OUR child" refers to the kid they had together, "HER child" might refer only to his wife's son, to Reuben. Still, he must have cared for him enough to decide that he also deserved apology.

"Thanks for coming to look for us. I knew you would.

Take care, Chip. "

I wonder if he actually knew. Could Hendrix promise him that Chip would be saved? He didn't seem to expect anyone else to make it, so it's possible that either Chip was supposed to play a special role in some way, or maybe he already did, or he was guaranteed to make it out alive regardless of the circumstances to make the journey he is on now. That could mean that Riptide Pirates were truly always destined to meet.

Okay, that will be most of my thoughts! Feel free to share yours!

[gildingmist]

Isagi genius-prodigy theory

!!SLIGHT SPOILS!! Why I believe the key to Isagi reaching the spot of n1 striker bases itself on the balance between logical and creative thinking.

Sorry I’m not sure if anyone is interested in my yapping but I needed it written down somewhere. Some elements of it like the eye theory weren’t originally my idea but read off the internet :)

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

Rather than a story about how hard work beats talent, I’ve always considered blue lock a tale of how self belief and mentality remains above all the most important piece of the puzzle to reach success. Because blue lock is no blue period, it’s no ao ashi, it’s not supposed to be such a classic moral. That feels off.

After all, prodigies and geniuses aren’t a hierarchical order. They simply refer to two distinct categories, two schools of thought that stand neither above or beneath one another, those being logical thinking in prodigies and creative thinking in geniuses.

I’m basing myself off quite a few things here but I think the most important element remains Isagi’s light novel, where it a was clearly stated he used to be a genius as a child. It’s stated his playstyle was more focused on dribbling and way more like what we see in bachira today. And honestly?

Yeah, that makes sense. He’s got an innate ability he was born with and most others lack ad geniuses usually do, (his superhuman senses) and being a fan of Noel Noa from a very young age he already knew what an egoist was and consciously or not was applying that mentality to his playing. Even without details or realising, he already had a head start in how to make use of Ego’s theories.

Then, just like aiku he got hit by the fuck you don’t be selfish football beam and forced to play japanese football. And he went from beating five opponents in a row to score a goal with his noa imitation focused training to barely ever passing. He knows japanese football is wrong, and he’s never liked it, literally moments after joining ichiban and hearing their motto, his first reaction is "something’s wrong, isn’t it?"

Then blue lock came in, the rest is history. After forcing to play with such a focus on assist on so long, Isagi’s other capabilities had deteriorated, having to rely on the sole weapon he could always count on, his senses. Leaving behind technique and fancy playstyles to this develop this cut throat, direct playing would later develop into metavision, a weapon that has only been seen in prodigies due to its inherently logical nature. His other weapon, his direct shot, well it was pretty much the only thing he was allowed to keep while playing japanese football.

But that just doesn’t sit right, does it?

The one they called the "unbeatable striker of Saitama", his hometown, just worsening to the point even his own teammates believed his goal in the U20 was just fully, plainly, a total fluke that could never be reproduced? Just, forget everything?

His mother also says in the novel that "this child can see things that can’t be seen" and we know that can’t be metavision as metavision is just taking in information and analysing it faster than others, nothing to do with senses. But that’s just… never utilised? It seems strange not because it’s impossible of course, but because it’s mentioned. Why would this all be told, why would this be his backstory only for the author to be oh well! ;P Doesn’t matter cause he reset!

Also just the sole fact that like, a genius can turn into a prodigy is huge, because it means that those are not two strict categories you’re either born in or out, you can go from one to another.

And it’s not like Isagi really changed THAT much as a person. He’s no Sae, and from the sole fact arts are still his favorite subject and science his most hated, it’s clear he still has this firstly creative way of thinking and overall nature that just, fizzles out when it comes to football. (I’m not saying soccer). It can’t be all there is to it.

Isagi was also a very emotional and shy kid, described as timid and sensitive, which could emphasise that he relies more on his right brain than left brain, by instinct.

Now on another note, right and left motifs are quite prominent in blue lock. Right brain left brain motifs, logical vs creative. It’s a pattern.

It can also be taken notice off in the eye theory that takes notice that During ego heavy moments, usually the composition puts more focus on the right or left eye depending on wether the character is genius or prodigy. Credits to Yeti on tiktok for that one

This mostly applies to Rin and Isagi, (also happened when Isagi got his first metavision) sometimes for bachira, as for some other characters it’s just. Straight up the wrong eye during important shots or just not taken in account (ie; Niko’s signature poose where he circles his eye with his fingers, it’s his right eye when he isn’t a genius.) But it’s the right/left motif that I mean to take notice of here. And consequently, that if Isagi did turn out to become some genius-prodigy hybrid, it would be first foreshadowed through the panelling and composition, his right eye emphasized further at times.

This illustration. Their positioning is based on the ego chart, that’s the first thing I’ve noticed.

Isagi being freedom is very interesting to me as it does add to the whole genius thing, even if all geniuses aren’t freedom axed (ie, Rin.) It’s safe to assume the fourth person that should have been here is Shidou. But that’s not what I want to focus on with this, I digress.

Rather, Again, if we zoom into Isagi, we can see his right gun is gold and his left silver. While I first thought the silver was maybe for ego and the gold one for luck, due to it the puzzle piece’s colour, I think it makes a lot more sense for it to be representative of Isagi’s proficiency with each of his legs. His right foot being his dominant foot.

And now this might be the biggest reach yet and probably stupid but I do like to take notice of it.

Isagi’s dominant foot is his right. It’s the one he’s mot proficient with; and his left doesn’t even compare for most of the manga. The right side of the brain as prior stated is the creative one.

We also notice that over the duration of it, rather than better his shot and his proficiency with that leg, it’s rarely shown to be trained, and isagi doesn’t make a NOTABLE, conscious effort to, instead focusing on bettering his left leg with which he is a complete beginner, an attempt at making up for his flaws. That left leg could represent his logical playing whilst his right could represent the creative part of it all. He sets aside his originally stronger playstyle to focus on building up from zero the other, then reaching a state where both, at the same time and more specifically together qualify as a weapon, his two gun volley.

This could just show his playstyle evolution as a whole from now on, and how despite having been a genius all these years, he left it behind to instead focus on getting his logical mind up to the task, despite starting back to square 1, wether it be conscious or not.

Let’s not forget that Isagi’s weapon is most of all, not his metavision, not his senses, not his direct shot- but his adaptability. And when he reached the big league where practically everyone has metavision (that’s already happening. Reo, karasu, aiku, niko. It’s a damn lot already), crazy physics, and more than a few other weapons?

Yeah, the occasional omnivision trigger isn’t going to be nearly enough at pro levels.

He wants to take the world cup from Noa. And that seems to be the expected climax of the manga. Noa doesn’t play U20, so we have at least 3 arcs or so before reaching that. This isn’t dragon ball, the same weapons can’t keep evolving all in the same direction forever and in so, and even then I struggle to see how much further metavision could expand. So in what other way could his adaptibility develop than in learning the trade of the opposition? Hold your friends close and your enemies closer seems like a very blue lock-esque philosophy. I believe his freedom and his world style ego will permit him to go beyond the label of either genius past or prodigy present, and help him rise above Noa as n1 striker.

Which brings us to my next point:

Geniuses on one side, prodigies on the other, and between that Noa and Ego.

I don’t think Ego’s playstyle is in between prodigy and geniuses, he does seem more prodigy than anything even if he didn’t manage to stay in the field long enough to fully flesh out his playing style as he retired way early, but his placement is obviously to mirror Noa’s own. A pesky shadow of the past he can never quite get out of his head (average situationship) as demonstrated by the fact he still remembers word by word Ego’s theories a decade later when asking Isagi to explain how he views football. But that’s just Ego’s case. What about Noel Noa?

Well, Noa is a logic axed genius.

In playstyle alone he is by all means a prodigy, prioritising logic, efficiency and winning over theatrics. That’s quite literally Bastard München’s whole philosophy. He is a rational man in nature. And that very much shows in his plays. His trainees are also prodigies.

And yet he’s categorised as a genius. And that is thanks to his physicality. His talent is that he’s ambidextrous, it’s something he’s born with that others lack. His dribbling also seems very dangerous, something that is mostly seen in geniuses like Bachira and Laviño, even if Noa seems to believe the latter is better at it than he is.

In a way, the reason that seems to indicate Noa is the best striker, is his ability to balance genius and prodigious mentalities and ideologies and to utilise it to score. He is what we’ve seen closest to what a genius prodigy might be, and in result is the best striker in the verse.

And how do we relate that to Isagi?

Well he’s pretty much in the same boat. Born with capabilities that other lacks, he still is undoubtedly a prodigy by his plays and the fact he doesn’t utilise his senses as other geniuses utilise their talents. And that’s his fundamental flaw as well as the last puzzle piece to reach world level.

But despite that, there is one glaring thing with this illustration, Noa’s throne is made of glass, it’s fragile- and being logical with an extra weapon is not enough for him to let down his guard. Isagi would need to go above and beyond, and that’s why I think instead of just being a genius that plays logically, Isagi needs to be both in balance; stability being the key to turn the glass throne into one of it’s own right. Why mindsets are in the end the most dangerous weapons in blue lock, and what Isagi will need to figure out through the world cup to finally dethrone the man that does not even view him as rightful rival.

Then again I’m like stupid and this post is written weird so don’t take anything I say too seriously lol

[via-the-cryptid]

one of you, I don’t remember who but if it was you then here you go, mentioned Ellie befriending Ace. it took me a minute to realise that you probably meant the psychic little girl and not the pirate, but… now that I think about it, that’s actually a really good idea.

first off, I’m going to start by saying that I barely remember anything about Ace except hat she was super psychic, scared the Joker shitless once (good for her), and I think ended up dying as a result of her powers overloading her brain. I also remember Batman stayed with her until she died, but past that, nothing! so if my interpretation of her is off, well, that ain’t Via’s problem.

picture this: Ellie, approximately 14 in physical terms, only been alive for like a year or two. it’s post-Portal Incident II: The Reckoning, so her body is stabilized but her powers are going bat-crazy. she’s alone in an unfamiliar city with far too many restless spirits, being chased by actual supervillains, and she’s scared. maybe she ducks into an alley or hides in an abandoned building, and maybe one of those spirits was watching.

it’s been a long time since anything has caught Ace’s attention in the mortal realm. she likes to check in from time to time, see what’s happening as the world moves on without her, but it’s useless to linger over what she can’t affect. in the end, it only ever makes her miserable.

but sometimes, she can’t help but watch. sometimes, like today, she sees another little girl in trouble. she thinks, ‘she’s like me’, and she needs to know that this girl makes it through the night. even if she doesn’t, Ace still has enough power in death to show her a good dream before another ghost is added to Gotham’s countless number of lost souls. she follows the girl into the building, watches as she curls up in the corner, out of sight and barely there.

and then she looks straight at Ace.

“Did you want something?” Ellie asks, and she doesn’t break eye contact with the spirit floating in the doorway, even as her eyes go wide. “If you have unfinished business, I might be able to help, y’know, so long as you’re not trying to cause trouble.”

“You can see me.”

“Sure can. Kinda hard not to, your outfit’s pretty distinct.”

It’s the outfit she died in. Ace doesn’t really want to wear it anymore, not when she’s so far removed from that era of her life, but it isn’t like she knows how to.

“So,” Ellie says, “what’s your deal? Are you just here to watch it are you picking a fight? ‘Cause I’ll warn you, I don’t know how to play poker and everyone else so far has refused to reach me.”

Ace blinks. “I’m not here to fight with you.”

“Okay, cool. Are you… here to fight someone else?”

“No. I was watching you.”

“Well, that’s a bit unsettling.”

“You were alone, and you looked cold. I had to make sure you weren’t going to die in here.”

“Again?” Mutters Ellie, and Ace’s expression snaps from intrigued to guarded in less than a second.

“What does that mean?” She asks, glaring right at Ellie, and the other girl grimaces.

“Did not mean to say that one out loud. Okay, so hi, I’m Ellie, and basically I’m dead—”

“What? No, you’re not. I would be able to tell if you were dead.”

“Half-dead, then. I was a clone OFA guy who was half human and half ghost, ‘cept I was falling apart, so I decided to fix it by doing the same thing he did to become half-ghost, and I ended up standing inside a portal to the Ghost Zone while it was opening. Make sense so far?”

Ace’s jaw is dropping, but she can’t seem to find it in herself to care. “Half-dead.”

“Oh, we’re still stuck on that, then. Basically, if you— actually never mind, I don’t really know how it works. I can turn from ghost to human, if that helps.”

“How?” Ace whispers. “You said you were… falling apart. And a clone. And half-dead.”

“Well, now I’ve got two out of those three, since I fixed the first problem. Do you want to maybe sit down or something? This is gonna be a long story if you want the whole thing.”

Yes, she absolutely does. Ace float across the room and settles in next to Ellie, folding her knees up to copy the other girl’s pose. “My name is Ace.”

“Nice to meet you, Ace. I’m Ellie. Wait, I think I said that already.”

Somewhere on the other side of Crime Alley, unknowing of the two girls hidden away in a long-forgotten corner, Edward Nygma slams his head down on the desk as he once again fails to pinpoint the location of the mysterious white-haired girl.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 15

welcome the the fifteenth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.  

1. there, nestled against his pulse by @hiuythn

stop why are you doing this to me stop it stop it stop--

klance soulmate au where your right wrist has the first words your soulmate says to you, and the left holds the last words they'll say to you. super sad, so much angst, and i've been informed it'll make you sob until you choke.

1. there, nestled against his pulse (the main story, from Keith's POV) 2. this is what love looks like: (tnahp from Lance's POV + 38k of sequel content) 3. roll credits (deleted/extra scenes and additional headcanons)

okay. i am so desperately obsessed with this fic, i was obsessed with it the first time i read it and im obsessed with it now. and yes i know i did all hiuythn fics last week and i promise i wont this week. BUT i have a set of comments associated with this fic bc it is Just That Good and so i shall present them to u now:

- literally the funniest characterization of shiro i’ve ever read. this shiro is gay and tired. this shiro unironically and frequently says “move. i’m gay” and gets away with it at the garrison. this shiro has been through A Lot and just wants to fucking retire - allura here is so so funny she’s such a badass. she’s giving “i love shiny things! like the shine of your spilled blood on the floor if you say that dumb shit one more fucking time!!” we stan a queen. - coran is a Mood. this man is desperately trying to reign in four teenagers and two young adults and just wants to go to bed and also he cares for them all so so much. ultimate dad - pidge is Mischief Personified. she is a brat and i adore her. she’s here to cause problems and by god she will succeed - hunk is so done it’s so fucking funny. “that’s literally impossible.” he’s a genius and he knows it, he’s glad to call you out on your bullshit. he doesn’t even TRY to pretend he can keep a secret and/or handle drama god what a mood - don’t even get me started on klance!! they’re so funny omg. the banter is EXQUISITE. lance and keith adore each other so much and they’re so badass. literally the coolest power couple fight scenes ever to be made, i do adore. gosh. and the ROMANCE they are so devoted to each other i’m emotional - honourable mention of lance’s legs and keith’a Soft Squishy Feelings that are mentioned so often that they’re characters. iconic. all in all, the best way to describe this series is Gay and Tired. i love it and i’m sad to see it end. i will be rereading it an embarrassing number of times. infinity/10

2. all the little things by @jilliancares

Or: 5 times Keith let Lance get away with things that he'd never let anyone else do, and 1 time Lance realized that he was, apparently, special

oblivious lance will always be funny to me. and the idea of keith just letting lance get away with Everything and Everyone knowing how whipped he is except for lance himself?? peak humour. never not funny

3. Full Disclosure by @dragonomatopoeia

Keith is impulsive and straightforward when it comes to most things, and emotions are no exception. It's no surprise, then, that when he realises that he might have developed a crush on Lance, he tries to tell him immediately. Unfortunately, it's very hard to account for both circumstance and who Lance is as a person.

Alternatively: Four Times Keith Tried to Confess and One Time Lance Actually Understood

more 2016 eliteness!! this fic is hilarious. and also its number one selling quality is that all of the characters are trans and nd i literally love that for them. nonbinary hunk loml

4. catch me, before i fall by @pastelrainbow

‘We are a good team.’

Even now, just recalling the way Lance had smiled as the words left his lips, made Keith’s heart race and his cheeks redden. Lance had never looked at him so fondly before. No boy ever had. The thought of it made a sigh escape his lips and Keith hunched his shoulders, a pout tugging his lips downwards.

Curse my weak gay heart.

-

a what if keith caught lance outside his cryo-pod.

the idea of keith being a suave casanova with more game than aphrodite herself but immediately going bright red and hissing when shiro teases him. peak dynamic. absolutely nailed siblings 

5. of demons and dates by spartona (faveour)

Three times Keith scares Lance shitless with his ghost shenanigans, and one time Lance tries to retaliate.

first of all. BFU KLANCE BFU KLANCE BFU KLANCE. second of all. the  “we’ve BEEN dating u dumbass ily” trope is so funny to me. i will never get over it

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[cooldoode27]

Alright,

So regarding a previous post I made asking about what therapy lapis would undergo if she sought professional help.

I wanted to talk a bit about why I asked that.

In my Story/AU there is an arc called the healing arc.

This arc is dedicated to the Trio (Lapis, Peridot and the OC gem Strider) finally deciding to address their trauma and the issues caused by them. And so they seek Professional help.

While I have the beginning and end sorted for this arc, the middle is mostly empty. That’s not saying I haven’t thought about it, it’s more I’m struggling to think of how to make it interesting to read.

Thus unfortunately I’ve made the decision to not go into depth about their therapy.

I will talk about the type of therapy and its end result, but refrain from boring repetitive filler.

I will focus on important moments throughout their healing process instead of every tiny thing they do. This will help the story to keep moving forward and focus on new things.

With that aside I do want to talk about Lapis’s treatment.

I’ve noticed with what I’ve written I’ve focused more on Peridot and Strider and sort of put Lapis to the side. But not anymore.

It’s been difficult for me to figure out what to do for Lapis since I removed Malachite from the Story. But recently I’ve been going back and found out I wrote a lot about lapis feeling guilty and responsible for many of the bad things that have happened. And realised I fixed the physical and psychological issues caused by the antagonist in an earlier chapter.

And so like the other two, the type of treatment will be mentioned but not the step by step process or journey.

Instead Lapis’s results will be shown more so through her change of behaviour as her treatment focuses more on her mental and emotional state rather than physical health. Helping Lapis build herself up instead of tearing herself down.

With the help from professionals, the support from Steven, Peridot, the OC and the others, Lapis will persevere and reclaim her life.

Now one part of lapis’s journey I do want to go into detail on is her trying to let go of the past, the things that make her feel negative and hold her down. One being her relationship with Pearl.

That was something I felt was never really addressed in the show: how did these two get along? And did lapis ever forgive Pearl?

So part of lapis’s journey will involve her trying to get along with Pearl and trying to forgive her for not letting her out of the mirror (and in my story: being the reason why she was captured in the first place).

Doing this will help me to write more on lapis and Pearl but also to steadily improve their relationship over time instead of an instant change. Something I struggled and spoke about in a previous post.

With that said, here’s a screenshot of my favourite barn buddies:

[tainted-harmon]

today i was tik tok of girl saying violet would have bpd (Borderline personality disorder) but also i search she had major depression mostly and the girl is just saying about how she acted with tate etc. what do you think about it? (sorry if i made mistakes im from Germany😁❤️)

Hey, I was actually diagnosed with BPD as I turned 18 (I’m 28 now). I strongly disagree that Violet had BPD, her behaviour was typical teenage behaviour, added with depression. Lots of teenagers suffer depression and self harm, and it’s more common than people realise for teenagers to struggle with suicidal thoughts.

I think a lot of people misunderstand this condition but one thing that is important to point out is that it cannot be diagnosed in anyone under 18, and often doctors don’t like even diagnosing it in people before their 20s because it’s a very complex condition. It’s something that is typical a lifelong condition, meaning it doesn’t get better. Most people with depression do get better or have large periods of being able to function. A lot of people throw these terms around, especially Bipolar when explaining normal mood swings. People under estimate how much hormones can affect someone’s mental health and cause mood swings. Violet was dealing with a lot of typical things that people go through, parents having issues, bullying, but she did have the added experience of a sibling death.

I’ve mentioned years ago on here, but basically I experienced a trauma during childhood and started self harming from the age of 9. Then when I was 12 my mum had a stillborn when she was almost full term and I got to hold him every day until his funeral (I was given the choice to see him and the funeral and was never forced) but this then impacted me further because it was a very hard thing to see. From this point I developed really bad depression, ended up with stitches from self harm and through my early teens until I was 18 I was in and out of hospital because of self harm and suicide attempts. When I was 16 I got put in a child mental health unit because I was was taking so many overdoses and cutting very deep on impulse. I honestly couldn’t tell you the amount of times I had to go to hospital for hurting myself before the age of 16. My school even had to call an ambulance because I overdosed in the school bathrooms when I was about 15.

When I got out of the unit is when I first saw American Horror Story on television and I felt this immediate connection with Violet.

Sorry I made this a bit personal but I think it’s important to explain why I don’t believe Violet had BPD. Violet was depressed, which is obviously a very common condition and many of us will experience it. BPD is almost always caused by an early childhood trauma, usually sexual abuse or something similar, and this has an impact on someone’s emotional development and personality.

I think people may be assuming Violet has BPD because she made one impulsive decision to overdose on sleeping tablets, but a single or even a couple of impulsive decisions can be made by anyone. I was diagnosed with BPD because I had almost a decade long history of behaviour that was impulsive and was having major issues in my relationships with people (these are both things I have worked on and been improving through my 20s but still struggle). I still receive mental health support and will do for the rest of my life because even in the last 12 months I’ve received medical treatment for incidents or self harming behaviour.

I hope this helps explain things a bit ❤️

[talenlee]

Decemberween '23 — This Year's ASMRtists

If you’re not familiar with it, ASMR is an abbreviation meaning ‘autonomous sensory meridian response,’ a science sounding name for a reaction that some people get to a range of stimuli. This effect can be caused by a whole host of triggers but at least in the community on Youtube there’s a body of people who engage with it because of its ability to affect relaxation and restful mindsets. If you’re not familiar with what this looks like, it looks like a bunch of people making long videos with a strangely hushed affect.

And I watch and listen to them, to help me relax!

If you are familiar with it, hey, here’s some of the artists I’ve been watching this year, as the ASMR effect shifts around in my head and how I respond to it. One thing that people who don’t experience ASMR might not realise is that you can rely only on the effect being modestly unpredictable. Some stuff may cause it reliably for months and then suddenly, nothing. It pushes me to partake of new things regularly, and to that end, every year, I try to look at what artists are ‘new’ to me that I haven’t mentioned before.

Here then are four artists that I started paying attention to this year:

ASMR "Criminal" Lawyer Gets You Out of Trouble | BETTER CALL SAUL Parody

Watch this video on YouTube

I feel like I’ve watched more Amy Kay, like maybe I watched her years ago and I never got around to mentioning her. That’s probably likely, because she has an entire queer-read story about you being some variety of monarch, who started out being referred to as a dude, and then as the story evolved, the woman you’re talking to starts referring to you differently. Then eventually the series splits into two threads, with one half referring to ‘my lord’ and the other ‘my lady.’

Oh and then a cult got involved, it was an interesting story.

Anyway, Amy Kay does a lot of different types of video. Some of it is very mundane, some of it is very fantastic, and you’ll know if it’s the kind you respond to. Also, and this shouldn’t be a thing, but in the ASMR space, there’s a common responsiveness to media trends. When a Harry Potter movie comes out, a lot of people will make Harry Potter themed videos. It’s just a heavy trend, and I try not to hold it too much against the artists who are algorithm-responsive, but I am grateful when I see people fade out on it.

Amy Kay does have some videos about Harry Potter content, but it seems to be a thing of the past for now.

ASMR My Friend Brushes and Plays With My Hair

Watch this video on YouTube

Cosmo is an ASMR puppet. Cosmo is not unique as an ASMR puppet, but Cosmo is a puppet that does ASMR. And it’s a big friendly kind of puppet. You’re not going to see stuff that you won’t see from other ASMRtists by the way. Cosmo does roleplays about Recent Events (hi, Barbie Movie Tie In moment) and Cosmo does hand-focused gameplay videos (like Solitaire and Rush Hour), and Cosmo even does draw-along and ramble videos. In every way, Cosmo creates the most typical and normal content any middle of the road ASMRtist can produce, except for the alienation that comes from Cosmo being a puppet.

Alienation is important to me in ASMR. Roleplays don’t want to be realistic because they can’t be. Sometimes there are people who aim for normal, everyday kind of vibes, or expected behaviours, but because ASMR content is fundamentally weird (why are we all whispering?), the closer it gets to normalcy, the less likely it is to land for me. Give me something weird, give me something that recognisably can’t be real, and let me patch the gap in reality myself.

Cosmo’s great, and Cosmo isn’t real, but Cosmo exists and is my friend.

ASMR | making comfort food for a cold day

Watch this video on YouTube

I’m really selfconscious about my ASMR habits, especially since a lot of the ASMRtists I follow are very attractive women, some of whom are markedly younger than myself, and that makes me feel… oogy. It does mean that when I find myself responding to an ASMRtist who isn’t a pretty white girl, I try to make sure I mention it, and share their work. In this case, ASMRdido got on my radar through long, patient, whispered explanations of mathematical game concepts – particularly, the Monty Hall problem.

The other thing he does that I find useful for study is long (long) videos of playing a softly sounded, wood-and-velvet game called Close the Box. Close the Box is a great solo game because it underscores how little pieces you need to make a game out of something and still make it engaging.

ASMR-The Vintage Ice Cream Parlor Role Play🍨(Spooky Creations)

Watch this video on YouTube

And finally, Lloyd’s ASMR is a channel that’s… I think deliberately weird. Lloyd really turns up the ambient sound so if you don’t like the SHHHHH of an empty room, you might not like these. They’re slow, deliberate videos, and usually you can see the structure being something Lloyd has props for, reiterated in a new form. Door to door salesman, visiting a store, visiting an old style store. It’s a bit like a comprehensive library in that if you like one thing you can probably find ten or twenty versions of the same thing, even if they don’t make sense. Like you don’t get door to door bakery salespeople.

Lloyd is someone I like because of his gentle demeanour and I like the way that I, forgive me, don’t have to pay much attention. There’s not going to be a really funny joke or something I need to respond to, the way that (say) survey question videos invite me to. I know what I’m getting and I know there’s a reasonably large quantity of it, but also that it’s not about to impress me. It’s just sweet background noise and I’m not going to need to be afraid of something shocking or funny happening.

There! Here’s some stuff I’ve been listening to this year and I think makes my ability to focus and study better.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[randomcontentdude]

Recap #1

Alright so let’s start with the recap of everything that’s gone on since I left this blog. This was last updated in mid 2020. And originally I think this was supposed to be an emotional output for me to expel everything that I was feeling at the time. So I think we should retake it from there. The quarantine restrictions started to lift up and so I started seeing some of my friends again, I also “relaxed” my curls for the first time which later led to me dying it blue like every queer teen has to. 2020 didn’t have many interesting stuff if I’m honest. I guess an anecdote to tell is new years 2020-21: we spent the holidays at a friend’s of my mom, since she lived right in front of the beach so it was very convenient cause it also was a private neighbourhood, meaning no cops to enforce the lockdown. This friend of my moms has a daughter that’s like 10 years older than me, she’s very bohemian and artsy and alt and fucking unbearable but at the time I thought she was so cool because she was featured in the Converse instagram account of our country. It was a very quick dynamic of meeting someone with a mindset more similar to mine irl but very quickly realising i didn’t really liked her all that much and that at the end, she wasn’t all that cool.

2021 came in and I was flashing my brand new blue hair and a very cute eating disorder. I’ll never forget the first time I tried to go 24h without eating: I had to take my dog for a walk before lunch and I almost fainted in the process, right after the walk I had an awful diarrhoea and that’s when I started to regulate slowly the amount of food I ate. I won’t go into any more details because I don’t believe it’s relevant, it’s information I will always remember myself and this is not one of those sick ED blogs, I’m not promoting it under any circumstances even if it’s something that I still look up to nowadays. But I’m precipitating myself. 2021 started and with it another year of online school, I knew I had no chance to meet no one and had just one virtual friend at this point, who had been with me since 2017 and we now live in the same city. But at this moment in time is where I decided that I was gonna use the internet to start meeting people, as an underaged kid I had to use alternate methods to the ones adults use and I’m not going to mention all of them because some of these platforms are or were used mostly to engage in inappropriate activity amongst underage kids and this can make it quite easy for predators to contact with teens that are already looking for weird stuff. But something I used to do was starting conversations in the comments of post of topics I was interested on and dming the people I started talking to and engaged on actual conversations on said interest. There also was this app called bottled that sent messages to random people and then you could start chatting. But going back to the issue here. I was still very underaged when I decided to start engaging into this flirtatious interaction ma with other boys, and it all started as just casual flirting and joking until one day I was talking to this dude and he said he was gonna shower, to which I jokingly answered “send pics”. He actually did. I was walking my dog at the moment, but when I went back home I started reciprocating and that lead to a videocall. We kept talking for like three more days and then he send a long ass message explaining that he wasn’t ready for a relationship and talking as if we were in love which was very funny to me cause we had only been talking for a few days and always thought for us to just be sexting and I think he just wanted to move on but didn’t know how to and decided to make up that about deep feelings. I kept sexting with all these boys over the course of the following months, I’ve got a few funny stories. This guy who had a micropenis but somewhy turned me so much, a Eastern European that turned to be asexual but kept talking to me cause ig he liked me but didn’t really want anything, we never sexted but that was complicated emotionally speaking. There was a “straight” Serb that was very kinky. A cute Moldovan that sent nudes for the first time to me, I always think about him and how guilty I feel about that. This dude from qatar that thought being gay was a sin and offered to buy me a gift card once for getting a good grade on a test. This guy that was very very cute, severely autistic and wanted to sext for like 6 hours every day, I couldn’t do it no more, but it was also interesting cause he could suck his own dick. And finally, there was this guy from Minnesota, I actually liked him, we were sorta dating and I couldn’t do it anymore with other guys after yknowing him, I was devastated when I cutter him off, I couldn’t handle his absence no more, he became distant and I can tell he had some issues of his own but it was hard for me to get attached to him from such a distance yet feeling he wasn’t there really. He was very hurt too when things ended. After him, I only ever did that stuff with this boy I met on instagram, but we still do it sometimes but we are also friends, we were already friends when things started.

Alright, I’ll be back later today hopefully to finish the recaps or at least add a bit more but this is the end of my cyber-slut era and I think I can ficus and some other things for the next post.

[freshfromhell]

Hi dear!

I finished reading Mania’s latest chapter just like yesterday so let me just take a step back and bow at your work cause DAMN.

I’d be honoured to blab to you all about my experience with mania and our beloved Mandy Mueller but I don’t wanna burden you yet.

For now , I’d like to ask you if by any chance you’ve got a public Pinterest board and/or a music playlist dedicated to Mania and Mandy.

I’ve been coming up myself with a playlist made of the few songs mentioned in the story, and also a Pinterest board. Though I must admit the later has been more difficult to build as i wish to be the most faithful to reality as possible.

I’ve been wondering for a while now how you all depict it in your head. Words can only describe so much and I’d love to see for myself the way you picture Mandy, her style, her room, her house, her parents, everything ( can you tell I’m the visual kind and obsessed ?? ).

You know how they say your brain can’t differentiate a fictional character from a real person ? And how you get attached just the same ?

It seems I always end up orbiting around mean, cold-hearted, badass female characters and Mandy is no exception ( a pattern I can most certainly link to past traumas LOL ).

Anyways, all of that to say that I’m loving the glimpses we’re getting of Mandy’s personal life; the brands she wear, the stuff she owns, her habits and preferences, likes and dislikes, and I’d love to see more of it ! That might be a bit materialistic of me I’m realising lol, damn.

Though of course I’m only making a suggestion here, I wish for you to remain true to your writing style and habits as it is the reason why I’m so infatuated with your story!

I’m not sure if you’re familiar with webtoons and manhwas but in some of them, the authors would post a special chapter specifying their characters traits and specificities; q&as.

Though I know ao3 isn’t exactly the same and the readers there dont have the same expectations as on these other platforms, I’d love to know all about Mandy, so feel free to vent to me!

I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have stumbled upon such a jewel in a sea of synthetics. I am continuously baffled by the way the story is unfolding itself, the characters development, the threads linking past to present and present to past, character to character and event to event. Many have tried to make such a complex and formidable feat emerge from their pen without ever succeeding to ! I’m also just very taken aback by your intelligence and the diversity of your vocabulary cause ain’t no way I’ve actually got to check the words’s meaning every five goddamn lines. My gallery is SUFFOCATING.

Um… excuse my non English native speaker ass.

Anyways, I ended yapping without really meaning to but my message finally ends here.

I do hope that you are doing well, both mentally and physically and otherwise am praying for your well being. Do not hesitate to tell me all about what’s been on your mind if you ever need an ear to listen.

XO

- Sophie, a reader

omg! hello, my love!! you're so sweet! 😭 you could never burden me!!

I don't have a public pinterest board or playlist, but I have MANY private playlists (i sometimes make multiple for one chapter heehee). It honestly has never occurred to me that ppl would want that! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I may make some public ones soon, now that I know there's interest!

I cannot express fully how honored I am that you liked MANIA enough to make a pinterest board and playlist! (show it to me 👀 show it to me please 😫)

tbh, I think the greatest part of writing is that the reader gets to fill in the details themselves on some things. A lot of the best faceclaims I've had for Mandy have actually come from readers. I usually imagine her as a vintage mix of Kim Alexis, Barbara Bouchet, and Paulina Porizkova (with a sprinkle of Bobbie Jean Brown). As for more modern faces, I like Jean Watts, Sabrina Carpenter, or Margot Robbie (in The Wolf of Wall Street or The Big Short). I'm really loose when it comes to my idea of her, tbh!

here's the vibe:

I'm the same way, though! I have always gravitated to mean female characters (for absolutely the same reason, haha). I don't think there will ever be enough of them to satisfy me!

Omg, I don't think it's materialistic! I consider it, like, world-building, lol. I'll definitely try to implement more references to older brands. I'm actually obsessed with vintage designers and '80s fashion lol. Early on in MANIA, I tried to sprinkle in a lot more references to fashion and branding (I love putting ppl onto older stuff!), but since the plot has become heavier I've kinda fallen off lol. I'll definitely keep that in mind!

I'm totally unfamiliar with webtoons and man-hwas, but I read some manga growing up, so I think I know what you're talking about. I don't know if I'd be able to pull that off, though. I don't think I'd even know where to start, tbh! lol, and as for q&as, my ask box is always open! I'd answer random questions about Mandy anytime, haha.

I would also just like to say, I am SHOOK that english is not your first language and you read my story! The amount of American slang and wacky words I use is CRAZY. It is truly an amazing feat that you read it all! and I am so honored that you did!! but also, I am so sorry!!! I use so many words that aren't even in word-editor dictionaries!!! I really don't know how you do it! 😭 and your poor photo gallery!

Aaaaaaaah! This whole message has my heart so full! I love you so much I could cry! 😭❤️✨ I swear it is the BIGGEST compliment that you have read my whole (long ass) story, that you powered through and looked up so many words and phrases from a language outside your native language, and STILL want to know more about Mandy and her world!! Any question you have, I will answer in a heartbeat! Just ask!

Also, thank you for the well wishes! ❤️✨ I love you so much and wanna hug you so bad!! 😫

[idontevenknowhowtolife]

This is partly inspired by this post by @silver-dragonborn and is also prompted by the many good sister Rhaenyra fics i’ve been sucked into. I am just outlining this because i cannot write for shit.

Rhaenyra and Daemon leave for their walk earlier or something, or they come back earlier. Either way, the timeline matches up so that they are coming back to the castle, and stumble upon Otto kicking Aegon. Daemon doesn’t give a shit about Alicents kids, but he does care about Viserys and subsequently isnt just going to allow Otto to hurt one of his kids.  He steps in and “The Hand of the King finds himself without a hand.” (that is an awesome line from the post linked above).

Meanwhile Rhaenyra’s taken charge of Aegon, whose drunk, disorientated and in pain. He’s clinging to her and Aemond and Helaena have arrived (cause why not). The children are all apprehensive of her, bc of the whole fearmongering caused by Alicent and Rhaenyra notices somethings off, but shes charging past that and getting help. Say the maesters in Viserys room bc he always needs the maester and shes getting Aegon up and headed that way. Theres a quick detour to tell Daemon not to kill Otto just yet and to send some guards his way to force Otto under guard in his rooms. 

Daemon drags Otto away and Rhae and the kids head off. For plot purposes, lets say Rhaenyras strong enough to half carry Aegon all the way to their fathers rooms. They get there, the maesters attending Viserys, everyone is confused but they spring into action when they notice the state of Aegon. Aemond and Helaena are pushed off to the side while they sort out Aegon (who is quite worse off here then he seemed in the show cause angst) until Rhaenyra comes over and leads them to a couch with Viserys and asks for an explanation. The two are not very forthcoming, as the warnings from their mother and the care and actions of Rhaenyra are conflicting in their heads. Eventually, they get some things out of them and Daemon is sent for. He shows up, corroborates the story and Viserys is shocked and furious. He asks for the Alicent to be sent for but pauses when Aemond and Helaena tense up when shes mentioned. They explain that Alicents seen the punishments like this before and never stopped them and that shes hit Aegon before. The adults are furious but before tempers explode they send the kids to bed, putting them in a room near Viserys rooms. 

Rhaenyra, Daemon and Viserys discuss things, they send for Laenor and Rhaenys and Corlys and it is agreed that all the children (Baela and Rhaena included) shall be sent to Dragonstone with Daemon and Rhaenyra while Viserys heads back off to Kings Landing to you know, actually be the king. Dragonstone is a short ride anyway on dragonback so they can still be there for Ottos punishment and the subsequent fallout but the kids are protected.

On dragonstone it is quickly realised that Aegon, Aemond and Helaena have no knowledge or understanding of their Valyrian heritage beyond what is needed to command a dragon and due to being self taught, their ridings not as good or something. As such, bonding occurs via dragon riding lessons (and just rides for Aemond who hasnt bonded with Vhagar) and Valyrian lessons and fighting lessons. Eventually Syrax lays some eggs and they are given to Aemond and Rhaena. Theres a serious talk that Rhaenyra has with her siblings about how she is not going to kill them that helps further the healing process. 

If you want further scheming, say the Hightowers attempt to take back the kids or rebel or assasinate Rhaenyra as an attempt to push Aegon as heir that can backfire badly for them, but this story is ending up happily ever after with Queen Rhaenyra surrounded by family. Because we were bloody robbed of it.  

[cryxtal-moon]

hey stranger | knj

Summary: It would be nice to know his name.

Genre/warnings: writer!Namjoon, editor!reader, slice of life au, strangers to lovers, fluff, set on a train, no dialogue

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Author’s note: Inspired by a song by Madds Buckley titled Hey Stranger. It’s amazing; I highly encourage listening to it here (time stamp, 00:00). Namjoon's name isn't mentioned, but the stranger is him, as you can tell. I hope you like it >_<

Autumn. 

It was the season of change, blazing maple leaves painted in fiery tones cascading off a nearby tree branch with one sweep of a gentle breeze. Some drifted to your feet, pausing only for a moment in their pirouettes across the floor before the wind picked up again, bringing about not only a new destination for the vibrant foliage, but also a stranger whom you had been seeing over the last couple of weeks.

Hey stranger.

His brown hair was a shade lighter than that of the falling maple, styled and flopping gently against dark lashes while revealing quite a bit of his sun-kissed forehead. You stood on one side of a door, and he stood at another, the same positions you had always taken as though you were going to perform a dance with the platform as your stage.

But never once did you move, nor say a single word.

It’d be nice to know your name.

You could only watch out of the corner of your eyes the way his tan coat fluttered about in the air while the desire to say something burned with an ever-present desperation in your chest. A swatch of sapphire blue peeked out around its edges, coating the entirety of a button down he paired with black jeans falling loosely around his ankles. The beret he tugged over his head only made him look like that much more of an artist, not a writer like you knew him to be.

Waiting on our nightly train, we trade glances everyday,

His briefcase gave him away, gold letters inscribed on brown leather reading Mono Publishings which was undoubtedly custom-made. It blended seamlessly against the neutral pastels of his ensemble, briefly admiring the glint of light off those words till you realised you were now gazing at him fully.

And apparently, when you looked up, so was he.

You ignored the heat searing your cheeks as you swiftly turned away.

And I can’t help but imagine how I’d mess it up if I said “hey”,

The train pulled to a smooth stop in front of you just then, and you hated your mind for excitedly noting his gentlemanly gesture of letting you on board first, hanging back despite no one alighting.

But I wanna know you all the same.

Hey stranger, it’d be nice to know your name.

⊱✿⊰

Hey stranger,

I notice every book you read.

Three seats down was where he sat.

The clasps of his briefcase snapping open, you marvelled at the metallic clicks echoing off the walls a notch louder than the mechanical hum of the wheels against the tracks. In the reflection of his figure on glass windows, he removed a book, one you instantly recognised to be a personal favourite, pristine and bookmarked on your shelf at home.

You finish them so fast,

I could never match that speed.

Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. Just another volume in his seemingly endless collection of stories. You could only aimlessly guess where he was at, a gap within the pages that just surpassed the halfway mark.

The Little Prince was yesterday’s choice. Tomorrow would be different, too.

So I can’t even find a way,

To start a conversation with “hey, I’ve read that one too!”

Was it fate? Or coincidence? These things were all a mystery, identical to his name, and the place your courage hurried off to.

But I wanna know you all the same,

Hey stranger, it’d be nice to know your name.

⊱✿⊰

I’m a coward in sheep’s clothing,

Cause I watch, and wait, and hope, and pray.

You could have found a distraction in the fading light of sunset shining out across the city ahead of you, a shimmering gold brightening the tips of rooftops and the horizon line threatening to be overcome by azure. You could have watched the moving shadows disappear each time the train dashed past a skyscraping building, the sun vanishing and reappearing like it stopped to blink for a fleeting moment. And you most definitely could have pulled out your earphones to listen to some piano songs, rather than the peaceful silence enveloping the carriage with its warm embrace.

But the auric glow was the same one illuminating his silhouette, his slanted stature cast against the opposite row of cushioned seats nearly melding with yours. Music, well, that was relative; the soothing tunes of paper rustling was enough of a melody, indicating each turn of a page and occasionally paired with a chuckle in accordance to the beat of the train’s consistent rhythm.

None of which you would have caught by being uselessly distracted.

All the hours we’ve spent seats apart,

I could have tested fate.

⊱✿⊰

I’m a fool,

Who watches you,

Get off at the stop before mine.

It was so painful how you claimed to know this stop better than you knew him, only because it was his.

Clematis Avenue, those gorgeous purple blooms decorating the edges of the platform benches, were a beautiful yet heart wrenching sight. You were powerless to stop him, and even more so to hope he wouldn’t recognise the familiarity this station brought him. Because he did, every time.

I’ll see you tomorrow…

You bid your first goodbye to the book he placed back inside his briefcase. There was no way you’d see it again – he would have finished it before the strike of midnight – but you knew the same couldn’t be said about him, and that gave you the confidence to look at his retreating figure.

Precisely when he looked back.

…but as you go, we catch each other’s eyes.

⊱✿⊰

Hey stranger,

Before you hopped off the train…

A hand clasped itself over your heart…

…why’d you wave, why’d you wave at me,

With a smile on your face?

…the image of him smiling as he offered a wave of goodbye forever ingrained in your mind.

My heart is doing cartwheels,

And there’s a fuzzy feeling in my brain.

You didn’t glance elsewhere, even as the train began to move, afraid that if you did, the moment would have been ruined and faded with the final descent of the sun behind a vast ocean.

I wanna know you all the same,

Tomorrow, it’d be nice to catch your name.

Tomorrow, you decided.

I wanna know you all the same,

Tomorrow, you’d find out his name.

Hey stranger, it’d be nice to know your name.

[onceuponastory]

normal - steve kemp - chapter two: a monster in plain sight

WARNING! THIS FIC AND ITS DESCRIPTION CONTAINS FRESH SPOILERS. PLEASE DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILED BEFORE THE MOVIE COMES OUT FOR REAL.

Baby, you got lucky, cause you're rocking with the best And I'm greedy 'Cause I'm so greedy (Cause I’m so) - greedy by ariana grande

Plot: Hunting a new serial killer, FBI criminal profiler Agent Y/N Y/L/N’s boss decides that to catch this new threat, she needs to talk to the one person who can help them understand people like him…the cannibalistic serial killer Steve Kemp, currently in prison for murder. (Fresh x The Silence of the Lambs AU/Mashup) Pairing: It’s not exactly a Steve x reader fic yet, but he keeps flirting with her, and she’s….intrigued by him, let’s say. Warnings: 18+ ONLY PLEASE.  Mentions of death, murder, maiming/mutilation, serial killers, bodies, blood, cannibalism (as well as a discussion of how Steve realised that he enjoys eating people). Also a lot of manipulation. I wanted to show more of how dangerous and narcissistic Steve is, and how he uses and manipulates people to get what he wants, so if you think that could trigger you, please don’t read. If I missed any triggers, please let me know. Notes: Well. I’ve never had as many requests for a story to continue as I did with this one. So thank you so much for your support and enjoyment, and here’s Chapter Two! I’m sorry it took so long, but feel free to consider this an early dark Valentine’s gift. ALSO a huge thank you to @cwbucky​ for beta reading this for me and giving me so much help! It’s much appreciated. 

Read Chapter One here

“Shall we begin?” Steve grins. Gulping, Y/N nods. “Have a seat. I’m sorry, I would’ve asked them for a chair, but they don’t listen to me here, or let me do what I want. I wonder why.” Steve jokes. Y/N gives a short chuckle and nods, remembering her training and how she’s not supposed to aggravate him. Because then he’ll close up, and all her hopes of solving this case are gone. But she still feels...strange when she’s around Steve. Of course, when your job is talking to murderers all day, it’s natural to feel strange when you’re at work. There’s something about him that she can’t understand yet though. In all her years as a criminal profiler, she’s never met anyone quite like Steve Kemp.

Y/N peers down, glancing at the cold stone floor of the hallway outside Steve’s cell. “Go on. It’s alright.” Steve presses, gesturing to her through his handcuffs. “Please.” Her legs shaking slightly, Y/N does as he obliges. “Good girl.” He whispers. As Steve comes closer, peering down at her, his lips twisted into a slight smirk, she wonders if this is what his victims saw last. She wonders how they felt, knowing they were about to meet their end at the hands of someone like The Portland Cannibal. Despite the horror coursing through her veins at the very thought of enduring even a second of what those poor women went through...a part of her feels some kind of excitement about spending her last moments with Steve. About having his face be the last one she sees. About meeting her end at his hands. And that thought makes her stomach churn. “I’m sure you have lots of questions you’d like to ask someone like me. So go on...what would you like to ask me?” Steve asks.

“When did you first start eating people, Steve?” She asks boldly. Steve raises his brows, thinking over the question.

“When I was a teenager.” She opens her mouth to ask another question, but Steve continues before she can. “And before you can ask me why I did it...I was curious. I wanted to know what it tasted like.” He shrugs, sounding strangely relaxed. It’s as if he’s talking about tasting a new flavour of ice cream, rather than human flesh. “And it...was nice.” She scribbles a few things in her notebook, causing Steve to look her up and down, frowning. “You’re writing things down? Really?” She feels heat rise into her cheeks.

“I-It’s just so I remember it.”  She explains. Steve chuckles.

“Why don’t you use that big brain of yours, that I’m sure you have, and remember it in there? I hate it when people aren’t using their full potential.” She picks up on a slight tone of disappointment in his voice. And that makes her want the ground to swallow her whole. Her brain feels like it’s on fire trying to understand her feelings. Here she is, listening to him describing what it feels like to fucking eat people, and she’s worried that writing the things he tells her into her shitty dollar store notebook is making him embarrassed of her. What the hell is wrong with her? 

“...In terms of food or abilities?” She asks, her voice shaking slightly. She feels like she already knows the answer to this. Steve chuckles. 

“Both.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Y/N continues her questioning of Steve for a few more hours. She asks him everything about his background: his childhood, his time at school...everything and anything she can think of that might help her identify what kind of person would become a cannibal like him. But a part of her just wants to know for herself and her own interests. Even though she hates to admit it, Steve does intrigue her slightly, and she wants to learn more about him. She looks up at him, his steely blue eyes burning a gaze into her. He smirks, and it sends another shiver down her spine. In an instant, she remembers why she’s here and she forgets how charming he is and how much she wants to know him better. Despite how normal and handsome he is to her, he’s still a monster. Images flash through her mind. Pictures of blood, of Steve being led away in handcuffs with a smile on his face. She remembers all the things that happened to those poor women. Mutilated. Murdered. Eaten. By the man standing in front of her. The man who’s standing in front of her with a smirk on his face. Her stomach turns again. How on earth could she ever find a man like him attractive? Especially after what he’s done?

She glances down at her notebook, trying to avoid Steve’s gaze. The next question is some bullshit question about his extracurricular hobbies during college. Like that has any effect on the sort of person he turned out to be. How are any of these supposed to help her catch this guy? “Y/N? Are you alright?” She’s brought out of her thoughts by Steve. She scoffs. He’s trying to pretend that he cares about her now. She can still see him eyeing her body. Knowing him, he’s probably sizing her up for his next meal.

“Do you ever feel bad, Steve?” She asks. Steve raises a brow curiously.

“About what?”

“About what you did to all those women.” Steve’s entire demeanour changes. His smile drops, and his gaze gets slightly colder. 

“Y/N, that is not what we’re here to talk about. We’re here to talk about the other serial killer and how awful he is...not me and my feelings. That’s not relevant.” He reminds her. Although his voice is still the same as before, she can tell he’s gently warning her not to push her luck. 

“Yes, it is. I need to know whether people like you feel any guilt for what they did, or if they only think about themselves.” Steve’s face changes again. His eyes narrow.

“Y/N...” He trails off, his voice lower. “I’m not going to tell you again. I’m doing the right thing here by helping you. I’m being a good person, and I’d advise you not to blow it.” She scoffs. She knows she should stop because this is the worst possible way to get people like Steve on her side. But she’s committed now, spurred on by her newfound anger. Anger at being unable to catch the killer, at being shoved in places like this by her bosses time and time again, anger at Steve for being the monster that he is with no regrets or guilt...and anger because she knows a part of her is still attracted to him regardless.

“The right thing? You of all people want to talk about doing the right thing? About being a good person? When was that Steve? When did you do the right thing? Was that when you locked all those women up, huh? Or when you cut off parts of them to eat and sell? Were you doing the right thing then Steve?” Steve’s face darkens.

“Y/N. Stop.” He speaks only two words, but it’s clear he’s simmering with a quiet rage. 

“Cause to me, you never seem to do the right thing. Do you even know what the right thing is?”

“I said, stop.” He repeats. Y/N can’t see, but from behind his back, Steve slowly starts to clench his fists as she continues to talk. His anger grows and grows, ready to boil over. And the next thing she says is what makes it reach that point.

“What, you think that by doing this, you get a pass? That I’ll forget everything you did because you’re helping me solve my case? Well, sorry, but it’s not true. You can pretend to be the good guy as much as you like, but you’re not. You’re a fucking monster who has destroyed so many lives, and you have the nerve to act like you're in the right here? For talking to me? That’s not how this works. God, you’re so full of yourself.”

“I told you to shut up!” Steve shouts suddenly, storming forward and making her jump and scramble to her feet. He glares at her through the bars, icy blue eyes full of rage. There is the inner rage that so many serial killers have...and she’s just awakened it. “You think you can come in here with your shitty little plastic badge and think that gives you the upper hand here? Cause if we’re talking ranks, then I’m just as good as you. I’m a fucking surgeon. The best in my field.” He hisses. “Whereas you can’t even solve a fucking case, so you’re down here with me.” For some reason, his words cause a pang in her chest, making her feel hurt.

“But you-” She tries to argue that he lost his medical license a long time ago, but Steve continues.

“You think your badge means you can act all high and mighty and start calling me names and psychoanalysing me? I know what I am, darling. I don’t need you coming in here to tell me that.” Although his voice is calmer now, she can sense the rage and venom dripping from his every word. She’s still angry and hurt, however, fear is starting to take over now. “And you’re not the only person who can psychoanalyse either. I know you try to act all tough, hiding behind your badge and your agency like it’s a safety blanket, pretending you’re not terrified of me. But Y/N...I can smell fear.” He chuckles. He leans in closer, whispering. “And it’s dripping off of you.” He grins. Y/N gulps. Steve continues his verbal tirade. “You’re trying so hard to be the hero and to solve this case. Instead, you’re just a pussy who’s trying way too hard to live up to her expectations, even though you never will.” He smirks coldly. “Yet you won’t even admit it. And do you know why? Because you’re just as full of yourself as you think that I am. Sure, I am a monster, but at least I can admit to what I am.” She stands in shocked silence for a moment, letting Steve’s words sink in. 

“Well, I-”

“This interview is over. This partnership is over.” Steve responds. Y/N frowns. 

“What? No, we’ve only done one day, we haven’t even-”

“We did do one day. And that will be all until you realise that I am not going to stand here and listen to you disrespect me constantly in the name of ‘helping’ with an investigation. Trust me, I get enough hate mail every week. I don’t need you adding to it...even though you’ve got a pretty face. Now, go.” Steve orders, turning away from her. He ignores Y/N’s attempts to talk to him further. Y/N’s stomach drops. Oh shit. She’s just completely ruined her chances at trying to solve the investigation. How the hell is she supposed to explain this to her boss now? And not to mention that pissing off someone like Steve Kemp is never a good idea. She hears Steve’s voice speak again. “I told you to leave Y/N. I won’t tell you again. If I have to, I’ll get the guards to make you leave...and trust me, you don’t want that. I don’t want that for you either.” For a moment, Y/N looks up at Steve. A part of her wants to stay, to fix the mess that she made, but she knows she has to go. She gives one last glance to Steve, feeling a pang in her chest.

And then, she goes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That night, Y/N climbs into bed, her mind a mess. Now what the hell is she supposed to do? She’ll likely never see Steve again, which means she might never solve this case. More people might die, and it’ll all be her fault. Groaning, she holds her head in her hands. Despite all the fears she has surrounding the situation, somehow, Steve is the only thing on her mind. His last few words continue to replay in her mind “even though you’ve got a pretty face.” She can feel her cheeks burn as she pictures him saying that to her, imagining his blue eyes looking her over. 

She leans back against her pillows, sighing. Why the hell is she so invested in her relationship with Steve? Why does it matter so much to her that he thinks she’s pretty? Why does she like him thinking of her as pretty? Of course, Steve is gorgeous, she won’t lie about that, but he’s a fucking serial killer. He’s a monster, just like she told him. And yet, here she is, feeling excited and tingly because he called her pretty, but sad at the prospect of losing her connection to him. Why is she so upset by never seeing him again? Sure, the whole ‘he’s helping her to solve a serial killer case’ is a big part of it, but there’s something more to it that she doesn’t understand. 

If there is one positive to this whole situation though, it’s that not seeing Steve again will mean that these feelings should hopefully disappear of their own volition...even if saying those words causes another pang in her chest. She knows that she has to brush those feelings aside. Because they don’t mean anything. She’s just confused and emotional about this case, and she’s projected her feelings onto Steve, creating some kind of warped feelings towards him. Yes, that’s it. That’s why she feels like this. She’s just confused. After all, she’s a psychologist. She knows the human brain better than anyone else. She has to be right about this. And she is...despite how conflicted she feels about the whole thing.

Groaning, she turns off the light and snuggles in closer, soon falling asleep, but only momentarily. She drifts in and out of consciousness throughout the night, too confused to get a good and long night’s sleep. When she finally finds some sleep, her dreams are occupied by Steve. He stands there, staring at her, his piercing blue eyes tracing over every inch of her body. In some of them, he takes a hold of her hands. He runs his hands along her back in others, getting lower and lower. "Come back...” He whispers in her ear, so close she can feel his breath. “Come back to me...” 

Y/N wakes with a start, gasping. She pants, looking around. Steve sounded so close, she expected him to be right beside her. Her heart rate calms down as she realises that she’s still safe in her bedroom, and Steve is far away from her. She lays back down, trying to go back to sleep. Once again, Steve is the only thing on her mind. Realising she’s not going to get back to sleep at this point, Y/N sighs and gets up, heading downstairs for a glass of water. As she leans against the counter, sipping from her glass, Steve’s words replay in her mind once again. And one thought sticks out.

She does want to go back to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The following day, Y/N enters her office, chugging a coffee. Ever since the revelation that she would go back to Steve in a heartbeat, she was unable to go back to sleep, her mind consumed by him. She opens her computer, sighing as she sees emails from the police chief popping up, no doubt wondering how close she is to finding more information. How is she supposed to tell him what happened? Sure, she can use her prior experience, but Steve and his...insight would still be a great help to her. Groaning, she lays her head on her desk. 

She’s soon interrupted by a knock on her door. She lifts her head up, and a face pops in. “The boss wants to see you in his office right away.” Her blood runs cold as she gets up to walk towards her boss’s office. Steve probably told him what happened and that he doesn’t want to see her anymore. And that means she’ll have to explain why the hell she decided to antagonise the one person who could help them solve this case. Taking a deep breath, she knocks on the door to the office. When a voice calls her to enter, she gulps and steps inside, ready for the biggest dressing down of her career.

“Y/N! Just the woman I wanted to see. I have something to tell you.” Her boss begins, and Y/N gasps, ready to explain everything as best she can. But before she can, her boss continues. “Apparently, you’ve made quite the impression on Steve Kemp.” Well, that’s a fucking understatement.

“Well, he’s made quite the impression on me, sir.” She admits, hoping he doesn’t notice the blush on her cheeks.

“The prison warden has been in touch with me, and-” Her stomach twists. Here it comes. “-he told me that Steve seems to be very impressed with you and your tenacity. He’d like you to go back and see him as soon as possible, preferably right now.”

“Um, well...yes, sure. I can do that just now.” She nods before being dismissed. As she makes her way to her car, Y/N frowns. What? This makes no sense. Steve told her that he didn’t want to see her anymore, and not even twenty-four hours later, he wants to see her again? What is he planning?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As soon as she arrives at Steve’s cell, he turns to face her, as if he’s been waiting for her this whole time.

“Hello Y/N. It’s good to see you again.” He smiles.

“What’s going on? Why did you ask me to come back?” She asks.

“I just wanted to see you. Is that really such a crime, considering all I’ve done?” His words from her dream echo in her mind: “Come back...Come back to me...” She gulps. Steve, or her subconscious, wanted her back with him...and now here she is. Hopefully, her dreams don’t come true in any other way. 

“Well, no...it’s just because of what you said yesterday. I thought you didn’t want to see me again.” 

“Ah yes.” Steve chuckles. “That. Well, I meant what I said about you, you know. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I want to help you with your case. Our little...disagreement yesterday doesn’t change how I feel about you.” He looks her over again, biting his lip slightly. Her heart rate rises. “But, going forward, there will be some changes. Please, come in so I can explain.” Steve asks. It’s then she realises that his cell is open, and he could come closer to her at any moment. Her blood runs cold.

“I’d rather stay out here, thanks.” Steve smirks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want? Or is that what they tell you to say?” And for a second, Y/N realises that she doesn’t know the answer to that question. “Unfortunately for you, both our supervisors have already authorised this, so you don’t have a choice. And it means that going running and crying to your boss about how you had to stand in the same room as the big, bad serial killer with no protection isn’t going to do anything. Sure, you could scream...but I don’t know how well that’d work out for you.” He jokes. Her blood runs cold. Why the hell would they authorise something like this? Even when she’s met worse people than Steve Kemp, there’s still been some form of protection there, most notably a cell door. And now, there’s nothing there to protect her from him. She feels more at risk than she’s ever felt before. “But after all, I was happy to give them the idea. I just said something about how being in such close proximity to me would help you understand my behaviour more, which would help solve this case. They agreed almost immediately.” He shrugs. “Because that’s all you want to do, right? Solve the case and finally live up to your expectations?” 

“Steve, you did this? This was your decision?!” She gasps. He said that he wanted to protect her, and yet he’s done this to her. In reality, she has no idea why she’s surprised. Steve’s a serial killer and a master manipulator. It’s what people like him do all the time, and she’s no different. Even so, her mind goes back to the first time she met Steve, and how normal she thought he looked. She’s pretty sure she questioned how someone who looks like him could be responsible for so much suffering. But now, she’s seeing the real Steve Kemp, and suddenly the fact that he can’t be responsible for something like this is not so hard to believe. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you, I hate it when people aren’t using their full potential. And now, I finally get to use you to your full potential. Well, aside from the usual way I use people. And you get to work with me and get my insight again, which I see as a win-win situation.” He looks over her body, biting his lip. “I’m not going to lie though, I have been thinking about tasting you. I won’t tell you about those ideas. You can probably guess how it’ll end for you though.” He laughs. His laugh sounds slightly maniacal, and she can tell he’s relishing in her fear. Then again, considering the kind of person he is...that’s not too surprising. Another chill goes up her spine, and she can feel herself start to hyperventilate. Sure, she wanted to go back to him, but not like this. Never like this.

“B-But Steve, I can’t do this. It’s not safe, I’ll be at-”

“At what? Hmm? Risk?” Steve cuts her off. “Oh yes, because I’m a monster, aren’t I? That’s what you said yesterday. And now, you get to see exactly what kind of person I am. Up close and personal.” Y/N worriedly glances back down the hallway, considering running far away and never coming back. “Oh, you’re going to run, are you? I mean, by all means, be my guest.” And just as she considers doing just that, Steve’s words stop her. “But just know that if you do...you won’t have a chance at solving this case without me. I’m the best hope you have. But if you want to throw that away and get even more blood on your hands, and be responsible for the death of more innocent women...be my guest. After all, I’m the one behind bars, they won’t blame me for this. It’ll be all on you.” Sighing, she turns back to him. He’s right of course. The last thing she wants is to cause further death from her lack of actions. And so, she nods, taking a step closer to Steve. A step closer to the devil. He stares at her the whole time, leering at her. He clearly knows that he’s got her wrapped around his little finger...and he knows how to use it to his benefit.

“Okay Steve. I’m here.” She nods. Steve moves his head to the side, gesturing for her to come closer.

“Come on. Come closer. I don’t bite...not right away anyway.” Still afraid, she stays where she is. Steve sighs, rolling his eyes. “There’s no need to worry. The door will stay open the whole time, and you’re free to leave whenever you want. He turns, showing the cable attaching him to the wall. This is also a new addition. It means I can’t come too close to you, as long as you stand behind the line.” He gestures to a line painted on the floor. As a demonstration, he takes a few more steps forward, stopping in the middle of the cell as the cable reaches its limit. “Come on.” He repeats. She realises it’s not a good idea to challenge Steve anymore. Gulping, she steps forward, into the cell. Steve grins.

“Good girl. Welcome to my humble abode. Like what I’ve done with the place?” He jokes. Warily, Y/N glances around the room as Steve explains further. Although he’s moved back towards the corner of the room, having him so close to her is terrifying. He’s still too close for comfort. “Well, despite our little disagreement yesterday, I’d like to continue our meetings. But there’s going to be some changes, some of which you’ve already noticed. You can ask me whatever you’d like. Within reason, of course. In return, I’d like to know more about you. A quid pro quo, let’s say. No information from you, none from me. Understand?” Y/N nods. “And you won’t misbehave, because you need me, right?” She shakes her head. Steve scoffs. “I’m going to need you to do better than that. Say it.”

“…No.”

“No, what?” He hisses.

“No, Steve. I need you.” She says, her voice trembling. Steve smiles. 

"You’re absolutely right. Now. Let’s get to work.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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