#Hey at what point do you think its fair to get the hint?

[alren-ki]

Hm.

[just-aake]

All’s Fair in Love and War

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has some summer fun with you and the Barton children at the beach.

Warnings: fluff, hints of suggestive themes

Words: 1479

The sun hangs high in the sky, its beaming rays shining directly on you. A bead of sweat trickles down your face as you move toward your target, trying to be quick but also as quiet as possible.

However, your advance is slowed as your feet sink further into the hot sandy ground with each step forward.

Approaching your target, you pause behind a large boulder, using it for cover. Silently, you adjust your grip on the weapon in your hand, preparing for the impending attack.

Releasing a tiny breath, you swiftly maneuver from your hiding spot, vaulting over the boulder and landing with your weapon raised and ready.

Your arm lowers slightly when you find yourself facing an empty beach towel, its owner nowhere in sight.

That’s strange. You could have sworn she hadn’t left this area.

Just as you begin to turn around, a distinct pressure against your lower back makes you freeze. The plastic muzzle of a water gun presses into you, and a moment later, an arm snakes around your midriff, pulling you close.

You feel her bikini-clad body press against you as Natasha whispers in a low, teasing tone into your ear.

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t know you were sneaking up on me, did you, detka?”

A light chuckle escapes your lips as you raise both hands in surrender.

“You’ve caught me. What happens now?”

Natasha presses a light kiss against your shoulder before releasing her hold on you and backing away.

“It’s only fair that I do the same thing you were about to do to me.”

Turning around with your hands still raised in surrender, you raise a brow at her in amusement when you see the water gun in her hand pointed at you.

“How did you even get yourself one? Clint literally just came back with them while you were lying here.”

Natasha smirks and shrugs lightly. “I have my ways. Now…”

She gestures pointedly with her head to the water gun still in your hand and then towards the ground.

You huff lightly before letting it fall from your grip to the sand.

“Are you really going to shoot an unarmed person?”

Natasha’s playful smirk widens, giving you a teasing wink.

“All’s fair in love and war, detka.”

She presses the trigger on her gun, shooting a series of water shots that hit you squarely in the chest, immediately soaking your body. When she doesn’t stop, you laugh and rush at her, your hands raised in an attempt to block all her shots.

“Hey! I was only going to shoot you once!”

Natasha’s laughter rings out, clear and joyous, as you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her to the ground. The two of you tumble together in a flurry of limbs and laughter.

Rolling to a stop, Natasha ends up on top of you with a playful smirk. She leans in close, her breath warm against your lips, and whispers suggestively, “You know how I love to get you wet.”

“Nat!” you exclaim in reprimand, glancing around quickly. “Clint’s kids could be nearby.”

Realization dawns in Natasha’s eyes, followed by a thoughtful hum.

“Oh, now I understand, so you were the distraction.”

She begins to move to look around and locate the Barton children, but you swiftly trap one of her legs in yours and wrap your arms around her body, locking her in place with a smug look.

Natasha squirms slightly, but you know she’s not using all her strength to escape. And even though she lets out a small huff of disbelief, there’s still a gleam of amusement in her eyes.

“This is cheating,” she mutters, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

You grin up at her, tightening your hold just a bit.

“All’s fair in love and war, detka,” you playfully mock before shouting, “I got her!”

Immediately, Cooper and Lila emerge from their hiding spots with excited shouts, rushing towards you two with water guns aimed at Natasha.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Natasha says, twisting her body from your grasp and rolling you above her just as the two children begin their onslaught.

Cold water hits you on all sides, soaking you once again.

“Wait, wait! Friendly fire! Friendly fire!” you shout, holding out your hands to block the streams of water as Natasha rolls away from under you.

The shots stop at your exclamation, and the kids give you a confused look, realizing they are not shooting the red-haired spy.

Wiping your face, you turn to where Natasha escaped, only to find her holding two new water guns, both aimed at the three of you.

“Wha–how do you have more guns hidden around here?” you exclaim in disbelief.

“I told you. I have my ways,” Natasha remarks with a triumphant grin. Her stance is firm as she steps closer, her fingers moving to the triggers.

The three of you exchange quick glances, realizing your predicament, and slowly back away from the highly trained agent.

“What do we do now, Auntie Y/n?” Cooper whispers, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“Umm,” you glance at their water gun tanks. “Do either of you have enough to take any more shots?”

Lila presses on her trigger, and a tiny drizzle of water flows out of the nozzle. She looks back at you and shakes her head.

“I see,” you say, nodding slightly with a grim look. “Then there’s only one thing we can do.”

With hands on your waist, you take a deep and determined breath before looking back at Natasha, who is patiently waiting for you to make a decision. Then suddenly…

You begin sprinting away in one direction, shouting, “Run!”

The two children scramble to follow your command, darting in separate directions. They laugh as Natasha begins to chase and shoot water at them.

Her shots are precise, and within moments, you’re all soaked.

After a lively chase, you all gather together again, breathless and laughing. The three of you are drenched with water while Natasha stands dry with a victorious smirk.

“Well, that should teach you all not to try and ambush me,” Natasha says, lowering her guns.

Cooper and Lila giggle, shaking off the water.

“You got us good,” Cooper admits, smiling.

“Yeah, Auntie Nat, you should join our team,” Lila exclaims excitedly. “We’re going after Dad next.”

“You could teach us where to hide the extra water guns for when we run out,” Cooper adds.

“Sure, that sounds fun,” Natasha nods in agreement.

Before she can move to follow them, you wrap your arm around her waist, stopping her, and call out to the other two.

“How about you two do some scouting first and gather information about the area for the plan? We’ll join you soon after.”

Patting her arm, you give Natasha a playful glare as you declare pointedly.

“Auntie Nat here needs to help reapply sunscreen on me after using me as her shield, isn’t that right?”

Natasha’s smirk falters slightly, a sheepish look crossing her face as she chuckles lightly.

“Oooh, you’re in trouble,” Lila teases her, giggling.

Rolling her eyes playfully, she waves the kids toward where Clint probably is.

“Alright, alright, off you go.”

Once the kids disappear from view, Natasha pulls you close by your waist and leans in, resting her forehead against yours.

“Was the sunscreen just a fake excuse to get us a moment alone?” she asks suggestively, her thumb drawing small circles against your bare skin, teasing the lining of your swimwear.

You give her an amused smile, leaning in slightly and almost capturing her lips in yours before pulling away and pressing a bottle of sunscreen against her chest.

“No, nothing like that,” you answer as you lay down on her previously abandoned beach towel. Leaning on your elbows, you raise a brow at her with a knowing smile.

“Though, let’s see whether you can control yourself as you reapply the sunscreen on me without sneaking in any of your not-so-innocent touches.”

Natasha’s eyes gleam with playful defiance as she kneels down on the beach towel, one of her legs settling between yours. She presses her hand against your stomach, spreading the sunscreen there before sliding her hand up across your skin to your chest while also guiding you to lie down so that she can hover above you.

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as her touch becomes more insistent, her fingers brushing just a bit more intimately than necessary.

“Nat…” you murmur, trying to sound disapproving but failing as a smile tugs at your lips.

A smirk plays on Natasha’s lips as she leans close to yours, her body shifting so that her leg between yours presses lightly against your swim bottoms.

Her breath is warm against your skin as she whispers in a low tone, “All’s fair in love and war, detka.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

A/n: This was just a little short fun piece that came to mind. Thank you for reading!

[valkyriexo]

Hey there!

I loved Jinnie's you get your period story 🥹it was so heartwarming and made me feel really loved and happy!😊 I was thinking, could you maybe do a version for Chan?

Thank you so much!

You get your period | Bang Chan Vers.

ᑉ³pairing; Bang Chan x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff,

ᑉ³warnings; Reader has their period, Mentions of blood, mentions of staining, embarrasment

ᑉ³Authors Note; A little different than the other one. thank you for your request :)

As you lie entwined with Chan on the bed, the soft glow of the TV casting flickering shadows across the room, you feel utterly content. His arms envelop you, offering a sense of security and warmth that you find nowhere else. The movie plays on, but your attention is solely on the man beside you, his presence more captivating than any screen could ever be.

The movie, a classic romance, fills the room with the sound of sweet dialogue and sweeping orchestral scores. As the plot thickens, drawing you deeper into its embrace, you find yourselves caught up in the drama unfolding on screen. 

You're wearing his clothes, the scent of him enveloping you like a familiar embrace. It's one of those rare moments where the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in your own little world.

"Excuse me Y/N, but I do believe this popcorn was meant to be shared," he jokes, his voice carrying a hint of feign hurt as he reaches into the nearly empty bowl.

"Yeah? If only you hadn't eaten all of it, we'd still have some," you reply with a playful eye-roll.

Chan chuckles, the sound rich and infectious, his eyes twinkling. "Hey, I was just testing its quality control! Can't let any bad popcorn ruin our movie night," he retorts, his grin widening as he leans back against the headboard.

You can't help but smile in return. "Well, next time, try not to be so thorough with your testing. I might actually get to enjoy some," you tease.

Chan's grin softens into a warm smile. "Alright, alright, fair point. How about this? I'll go get us some more popcorn and maybe a couple of drinks. What do you say?" He said as he rises from the bed and presses a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. 

"Thank you," you murmur softly, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you watch him gather the empty bowl and head towards the kitchen.

Chan's smile lingers, a warmth in his eyes that speaks volumes. "Anytime," he replies softly before disappearing from view.

Left alone, you take a moment to bask in the quiet comfort of the room, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. But as you shift, a sudden realization hits you. Beneath you, the sheets feel damp. Your heart skips a beat as you pull back the covers, dread creeping in as you confirm your fear.

You've stained the bed.

Panic sets in as you frantically inspect the damage, hoping against hope that it's not as bad as it seems. You can't let Chan see this. Not now. Not when everything feels so perfect. With trembling hands, you begin to rip the sheets off the bed.

Your mind races, a million thoughts swirling as you struggle to comprehend what has happened. The embarrassment is suffocating, your cheeks burning with shame 

As you hastily toss the stained sheets into a corner of the room, trying to hide the evidence of your mishap, you hear Chan's voice from the kitchen. "Did you want candy too? I have some sour gummies here."

His footsteps draw closer, and panic surges through you as you realize that if you stained the bed, you've obviously stained your clothes as well. And worse-

They're Chan's Clothes

Tears well up in your eyes as you run into the bathroom, desperately searching for a way to clean yourself up. Your hands shake as you scrub at the stains on your clothes, the water mixing with your tears as you try to salvage the situation.

But no matter how hard you try, the stains remain stubbornly in place.

You lock the bathroom door, the sound of Chan's footsteps drawing closer with each passing second. Your mind races, searching desperately for a way to fix the situation before he discovers the truth.

Suddenly, the bedroom door creaks open, and Chan steps inside, his brows furrowing as he takes in the sight before him. His eyes widen in surprise and concern as he sees the disheveled bed and the discarded sheets in the corner.

"Y/N? Baby?" He says hesitantly. You hear his footsteps move further into the room.

"What happened?" he asks, his voice laced with worry. "Y/N? Where are you?"

His footsteps draw closer, each one echoing in the silence of the room. You can feel the weight of his concern hanging in the air as he knocks lightly on the door. "Y/N, are you in there?" he asks again, his voice soft yet filled with worry.

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggle to find the words to explain. "No, Chan, don't come in!" you call out, your voice trembling with embarrassment. "I-I'm fine, just give me a moment."

But Chan's concern only intensifies. "Y/N, what's going on? Are you hurt?"

The panic surges through you, the weight of your embarrassment nearly suffocating. "Please, Chan, just... just wait outside," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be out in a minute."

But Chan refuses to leave, his concern for you outweighing any discomfort he may feel. "Y/N, talk to me," he urges gently, his voice soft yet persistent

"No, it's embarrassing," you had murmured, your voice choked with tears.

"Y/N, please let me in," he implores, his tone filled with genuine concern. "I hate to see you like this.

"I'm gonna go home," you declare suddenly, your voice shaky with emotion. "Don't worry, just leave me alone, and I'll fix everything."

Chan's brow furrows in confusion. "Did I do something wrong?" he asks, concern evident in his voice. "Did I make you uncomfortable? I'm so sorry if I did."

You shake your head quickly, your voice soft but firm. "No, Chan, it's not anything you did," you reassure him, your heart aching at the thought of him blaming himself for your distress.

"Then what is it?" he asks softly, his voice almost pleading.

"Just go, please," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur, laced with embarrassment and desperation.

Chan stands there for a moment, his heart aching with concern and confusion. "Y/N, I don't want to leave you like this," he says, his voice breaking slightly. "Please, just let me help."

There's a heavy silence, the weight of your distress palpable in the air. A few minutes pass, the silence stretching between you like an invisible barrier.

He hesitates, the pain of hearing you so distressed evident on his face. "Okay," he says softly, his voice filled with reluctance. "But I'll be right outside if you need me. I'm not going anywhere."

You can hear his footsteps as he moves away, giving you the space you asked for. Your sobs echoing softly in the silence of the room. Tears stream down your cheeks unchecked, the embarrassment and shame weighing heavily on your shoulders.

And then, without a word, Chan approaches the bathroom door once more, his footsteps tentative as he knocks softly once again.

"I left... some clothes by the table.. near the door if you need them," he says gently, his voice filled with a quiet understanding.

You hear him take a deep breath before continuing, his voice soft but steady. "Y/N, I just want you to know that I love you. Nothing could ever change that. You're not alone, okay? I'm right here for you."

"You don't have to come out until you're ready," he continues, his tone gentle and patient. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here when you're ready to talk or if you need anything else."

As Chan's footsteps fade away, leaving you alone with your thoughts, you feel a wave of emotions wash over you. With trembling hands, you reach for the door and unlock it, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

Slowly, you step out into the room, your eyes falling on the clothes Chan left for you by the table near the door. You clutch the clothes to your chest, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of facing Chan after what happened.

With a deep breath, you gather your resolve and quickly change into the clothes Chan left for you. But as the reality of the situation sinks in, the floodgates of your emotions open, and you begin to cry harder than before.

You know you have to face Chan eventually; you can't hide in the bathroom forever. So, you unlock the bathroom door and step back out into the bedroom.

Chan is seated on the edge of the bed, his gaze soft yet concerned as he looks up at you. There is a fresh set of sheets on the bed.

The tension in the air is palpable, the weight of the unspoken conversation hanging between you.

In an instant, he's by your side, pulling you into his arms with a tenderness that brings a fresh wave of tears. But instead of finding solace in his embrace, you feel a surge of embarrassment so intense it's almost suffocating. Mortification courses through you, rendering you stiff and unresponsive in his arms.

You can't bear to face Chan, to let him see you in such a vulnerable state. The shame of what happened weighs heavily on you, and the thought of him witnessing your distress only adds to your humiliation.

"Y/N," Chan murmurs softly, concern etched in his voice. "Hey... its okay." His voice is a gentle caress against your frayed nerves, but you can't bring yourself to look at him.

"Chan," you whisper, your voice trembling with embarrassment, "I-I can't... I can't face you right now." Your words come out in a choked whisper, barely audible over the sound of your own racing heartbeat. Every fiber of your being aches with humiliation.

"Y/N," Chan says softly, his voice filled with understanding, "it's okay."

You shake your head, unable to meet his gaze. "No, Chan, it's not okay," you whisper, your voice choked with tears.

Chan's arms tighten around you, his grip firm yet gentle. "It's not the end of the world, baby."

"It is to me. This is so embarrassing." The words spill out of you, raw and vulnerable.

In a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating embarrassment, you try to break free from Chan's embrace, your heart pounding with the overwhelming need to erase the evidence of your humiliation.

Your movements are frantic, fueled by the desperate urge to hide, to fix things, to make it all go away.

With tears still streaming down your cheeks, you push against his arms, your mind consumed by the urgency to flee.

Your hands press against his chest, your breaths coming in short, panicked gasps.

But Chan holds you firmly, refusing to let you go. "Y/N, please," he pleads softly, his voice filled with concern. "Don't run away. Let me help you."

All you wanted was to break free. To grab the stained sheets and make a beeline for the laundry room.

"Y/N, look at me," he commands softly, his tone soothing yet authoritative.

Reluctantly, you open your eyes, your vision blurred by tears. Chan's face is inches from yours, his expression one of love and concern. His eyes, filled with empathy and understanding, lock onto yours.

"It's okay," he repeats softly, his thumbs continuing to brush away your tears. "You're okay. We're okay."

You begin to calm, your breathing slowing as his words and touch soothe your frayed nerves. Your hands, which had been pushing against his chest, slowly relax, resting against him instead. The urgency to flee starts to ebb, replaced by the comfort of his presence.

"I'm sorry," you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with embarrassment. "I just feel so.. gross right now."

Chan's expression softens, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy. "Y/N," he begins, his voice gentle yet resolute, "nothing about you could ever gross me out. Accidents happen, but they don't change how I feel about you."

"I love you," he continues, his voice a soft declaration of devotion. "Every part of you, even the parts you consider imperfect. Especially those parts."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with warmth. "I already threw the sheets in the wash," he says gently, "and I'd like to take care of the clothes, too. Just let me help you, okay?"

Chan leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if imprinting his love onto your very soul.

Your heart swells with gratitude, and you nod slowly. "Okay," you whisper, feeling a bit more at ease.

"Now, let me take care of those clothes and let's get you settled back in bed, okay?"

He helps you lie back down, tucking the clean sheets around you with gentle hands. Chan gathers the stained clothes and heads out of the room. You hear the washing machine start up, and after a few moments, he returns. Once you're comfortable, he climbs in beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. "I've got everything taken care of," he murmurs soothingly. "You just relax and rest."

You snuggle into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished.

With the clean sheets enveloping you and Chan's comforting presence beside you, the tension of the earlier mishap begins to fade away.

Chan reaches for the remote and starts the movie again, the soft glow of the screen casting a warm ambiance in the room.

"Open your nightstand door," Chan says suddenly, his voice a mixture of excitement and care.

You look at him, puzzled and startled. "Why?" you ask.

"Open it," he replies with a gentle smile.

Curious, you reach over and open the nightstand cabinet door. Your eyes widen in surprise as you take in the contents. Inside, neatly organized, are all the things you use and love: your preferred pads, medications, a heating pad, wipes, and even your favorite snacks. You can't help but feel overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of it all.

You stare at the items, not believing your eyes. "Chan... what is all this?" you ask, your voice trembling with emotion.

He smiles tenderly, his eyes sparkling with affection. "I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed, especially during times like this," he explains softly. "I care about you deeply, and I want to make things as easy and comfortable for you as possible."

Your heart swells with gratitude, touched by his thoughtfulness. You can't help but marvel at how he always seems to know exactly what you need, even before you do.

But what catches your attention most are the unopened letters and notes, each one bearing Chan's familiar handwriting, neatly stacked and waiting to be discovered. You reach for them, fingers trembling with anticipation.

"What are these?" you inquire, a curious smile playing on your lips.

Chan's smile widens as he watches you tentatively. "Those are for you," he replies softly. "Letters and notes filled with my thoughts, feelings, and all the reasons why I love you."

You look at him in disbelief before you slowly pick up one of the letters, fingers trembling as you hold it delicately in your hands.

"I wrote them for you to read whenever I'm away.... I know i tend to be busy but... I want you to know that even when I'm not physically here, you're always on my mind, and my love for you never changes."

You look up at Chan, your vision blurred by tears once again but your heart overflowing with love. Without a word, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His arms envelop you in return, holding you close as you bask in the comfort of his love.

You take a deep breath, feeling the overwhelming sense of love and support from him. "I don't know what I'd do without you," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity.

"You'll never have to find out," he replies softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Chan holds you close, his own voice filled with emotion. "I love you so much," he murmurs softly.

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[simplyreveries]

HELLO BROSKI. I LOVE YOUR WORK. AM SO HAPPY U ACCEPTING REQUESTS AGAIN.

My request is...

Vice-Housewardens getting random love letters and gifts from reader, then accidentally finding out it was them who gave them these things? Like there can be embroidered handkerchiefs and they get kinda sus cause... They got an embroidered handkerchief, obviously handmade in their colours, and the reader has bandages on their fingers? Kinda sus... Or something like that, like they see the reader putting a letter into their locker, or on their table, anything!

TYYY

trey clover

he is surprised, these kinds of things are stuff he is completely unexpecting of. at first, trey did believe that it might've been some mishap that someone accidentally left there. but when it kept on happening slowly, he caught on. he'll chuckle and have bashful smile on his face whenever he finds the various gifts in areas he frequents. he always seems to hear teasing and aweing from cater, he's so nosy about it and is really invested on knowing exactly who did this to him.

honestly, though trey is smart, he is a little oblivious to these kinds of things-- especially when it comes to love. so, though he points out the band aids on your hands, if you made some dumb excuse, he could easily brush it off. may even tell you about his fair share of hand related injuries when baking. it definitely takes him a while to fully catch on.

when he finally does catch you putting a letter in front of his dorms door... that's when he finally clicks two and two together and he's like "oh." "oh". he feels completely dumb for not even noticing sooner because it all made so much sense to him. of course you would do this! he feels pleasantly surprised though, to know its you. he doesn't exactly confront you about it, but he does try dropping hints and saying things that suggest that he does.

ruggie bucchi

hey ruggie is happy with anything that comes for free, so he loves all the little random gifts you leave for him. he may or may not have thought he was taking someone else's stuff originally because he didn't really think anyone at the school had feelings for him. little did he know.

he doesn't say it, but he certainly does seem to take note of your hands and how they seem to be getting increasingly covered in band-aids. he'll make some playful comment or tease, with his usual snicker but the idea that you could potentially be the person leaving the gifts does linger in the back of his mind.

ruggies sneaky, sneaky and observant -- if the curiosity and intrigue hit him enough, he could go out of his way and find out it is you fairly easy. it's almost strange though to him, he is so used to thinking there's some intention behind the gifts like you wanting something in return. but when he sees you carefully folding the letter and placing it in a discreet but seeable spot for him. it makes him feel warm.

jade leech

oh..??? he is finding this surprisingly but amusing that someone would actually do this for him. most people are quite unnerved, or steer clear of him because of what he's affiliated with, he enjoys the delightful gifts. he has a grin on his face whenever he holds and feels the handkerchiefs you made or the letters you've written. he finds himself telling floyd about it as well, when his brother asked him what he was laughing to himself about.

it wouldn't take long at all for him to figure out it came from you, knowing jade. i mean, even when he first started to receive them his first thought was you rather than anyone else, he knows. he's such people observer that he catches onto things very quickly.

he wouldn't tell you he knows; he thinks it's cute to see you try to be nonchalant or sneaky about it. despite him have catching you and watching you "secretly" slip these gifts and letters to him multiple times. jade tends to bring it up in conversation to you, as if he's so confused on who could possibly be doing such for him. he even asks you like "do you know who this could be? I am quite flattered fufu". he enjoys seeing the look on your face. nevertheless, he does find himself liking them.

jamil viper

jamil didn't even believe it was for him at first, he simply moved on thinking it was something someone had misplaced. until he kept on getting them and then the letters, you'd write anonymously hit him like a truck, he was very surprised. jamil finds himself almost troubled and with a deep expression as he tries putting together who exactly they're from. he seems to be distracted more and more often from his duties as vice dorm leader or general student work.

he does admit and think to himself, he likes how appreciative and supportive you seem in your letters-- and the handkerchiefs look like they had such effort put into them. he may even pass that into conversation with you, it may feel like he knows it's you- but he genuinely doesn't. he just asks you out of curiosity. he does get suspicious with the band-aids that seem to be multiplying on your hand, he doesn't ask anymore other than inquiring "are you alright..?"

jamil does immediately put it together when he sees you discreetly trying to slip a letter into his bag when he's practicing basketball. he hum and though he is a little flustered at the initial surprise- he feels quite good about himself and even smug as he reads over the letter you carefully wrote for him.

rook hunt

oh he absolutely loves them, he cherishes and keeps any gift you give him. he finds the embroidery so beautiful! he thinks your letters are so sweet and loving!! he has to keep them all obviously. however, each time you gift him something it only heightens his curiously and his drive to figure out who you are. being rook, that doesn't take long... like at all. his infatuation only grows when he finds out its you.

he has no qualms about hiding that he does know, in fact he seems to be almost fretting over you when you seem to be a little hurt from making those gifts for him. he'd be overly dramatic and tell you he doesn't wish to see you with bandaids all over for him...!

rook would probably end up secretly giving you gifts, turning it back on you. he would turn it into a cute little game. and you better believe he keeps every single thing you give; he loves them deeply- with his growing collection of everything you've given him stored nicely.

lilia vanrouge

he just knows it's from you as soon as he gets one, he thinks it's completely adorable and even quite bold of you to do so. he looks forward to every little gift and letter you give him- and finds himself carefully looking over all the details in what you do. he finds your hobby to be cute.

he'll point out the bandages and laugh, "you should be more careful with that, dear" he'd advise. he makes it obvious that he knows- but does it in such a teasing way. he really does find himself appreciating everything you give him. lilia thinks you're so endearing.

he'll return the favor, like rook and leave you letters at ramshackle. expressing his gratitude and much appreciation for them. it is pretty noticeably, from him. with his handwriting and seemingly old style of letters. though, he once left some rough looking cookies in there....

[the-fiction-witch]

Feelings

Media The Queens Gambit

Character Benny Watts

Couple Benny X Reader

Rating Sweet + SMut

Requested:

Hey fiction witch, if u can see this I have a request, in the show Beth leaves New York and goes back to her house and when Beth and Benny r on the phone Benny gets upset and tells Beth to not call him, after that happens can u plz make y/n find out that Beth hurt Benny and y/n being her sweet and empathetic self, goes to comfort Benny in his house and yk wtv happens next 🤭 if u can make that story asap that would be amazing thank u 🙏

I shifted my hips from side to side humming along with the tune coming from my record player speaker, My hands in the hot water washing up the dishes and pots from dinner. I jumped as I heard my phone begin its blaring. So I left the last pot to soak trying off my hands on my apron as I scampered my shoes across the floor of my little townhouse I quickly turned down the volume on my record player as I passed the shelf, I lost my footing a little on the rug's stupid curled corner and went tumbling onto my sofa on my back, luckily just beside my phone table so I picked up the red rotary phone from the table bringing it to my ear. 

"Y/l/n Residence." I smiled 

"Hi y/n" Beth smiled 

"Ohh, My my to what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Harmon?" 

"Oh you know, nothing unusual. How's queens?" 

"Boring. But finally unpacked my last few boxes so shaping up nicely. How's kentuky?" 

"Much the same" she smiled "So, I had a question."

"ahh there is the point of your call, of course, ask away"

"You've been to Moscow correct?" 

"Yes, I have. I assume there is a follow-up question."

"Yeah, I'm doing a bit of packing. I know everyone says Moscow is cold but... exactly how cold?"

 "When they say cold they mean cold beth. It's freezing in Moscow. The snow came up to my knees. I was so cold I ripped stuffing out of the hotel pillow to shove in my bra because I was convinced my nipples would freeze off. and that's coming from a New York girl" I laughed "Pack for ice. Pack for snow. Pack for seeing your breath inside buildings." 

"Really?"

"If you're too hot you can always take layers off," I explained 

"Fair enough,"

"That all?"

"I had something else to ask too"

"Sure, fire away." 

"Did you... Like to fuck Benny?"

"That's a bold question for six pm" 

"But did you, when you two were... together?"

I laughed "My darling Elizabeth. Me and Benny never have been... together. Not officially anyway."

"But when you did. Did you like to?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"You can say every time you've had sex you liked it? sometimes stuff's just shit"

"But other than those times"

"I did. Course I did. Benny... is a complicated man"

"How so?"

"Because he's Benny" I laugh "He's weird, he thinks fifteen steps ahead at any one moment, he's passionate and dedicated with an ego big enough to fly himself to Moscow and back, but he's also... you know a man. so he's blunt and simple, and can't see a hint five inches in front of his face." I explained, "Why?" 

"I think. it might be over."

"Over? Did it ever begin?"

"I mean... kinda. sort of. It's complicated."

"Beth. What happened?"

"So you know how Benny's been bugging me to come to New York"

"Yes. Because he misses you. That's his way of saying that." 

"Yeah he even told me"

"He told you he missed you?"

"Yes"

"And you did what?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing!"

"Yeah I mean we called a little more but not much else. and I kinda... pissed him off"

"What did you do?"

"I gave the church the money back. I tried to ask him for money. if he wants to come he can help me pay for it right? he flipped out and told me not to call him again. That was... two days ago and he won't answer the phone. Guess I'm just kinda..."

"You're serious?" I sighed 

"Yeah."

"Okay... I have not got time to deal with you" I sighed sitting up normally "All I'm gonna say is you've fucked up Beth. And I am going to clean this up, not because I want to help you. But because I care too much about Benny. I will call you later and we will have a chat" I told her before hanging up the phone 

"Fuck..." I sighed "Harmon, you do make my life difficult" I grabbed the phone again and dialled the number for the Brooklyn basement listening to it ring but no answer, I tried again but still no answer, I gave it one more try but still no answer. 

I gave up setting the phone back on the receiver and I got to my feet untieing my apron throwing it on the kitchen table grabbing my handbag making sure to grab my spare key. changing my shoes and slipping on my gloves before rushing out locking up my front door as I scampered down the steps of the stoop I unlocked the door on my little red mini threw my bag on the passenger seat quickly started the car up and scampered through the New York streets using all the little cut thoughts I knew to travel the six miles from my townhouse in queens to the basement in Brooklyn. I pulled my mini up behind the little blue Beatle parked and grabbed my bag climbing out of the car and heading down the little foul-smelling stairwells until I finally reached the metal door giving it a firm few taps. No answer came. but I could hear noises from within. I knocked much louder but still no answer came.

I rolled my eyes grabbed the spare key from my handbag forced it into the lock and opened the door shutting it behind me immediately I could tell things weren't good.

This apartment was dark, gloomy and damp as usual, bottles littered his table enough you could use them as pieces in a chess game, and things haphazardly moved around the apartment. And Benny amongst it all. Barefoot. Black jeans tight to his body, his belt gone, his black turtleneck on with his sleeves rolled up, frustration across his face, a beer in hand that he finished and there across his apartment smashing it on the wall. 

“Benny?” 

He ran a hand through his hair and glanced up at me “Hey y/n.”

“How are you feeling?” 

“I'm fine” he snapped grabbing a cigarette from his table setting it in his mouth and lighting it up with his old Zippo 

“Benny.” I glared

“I'm fine.” He snapped 

“Beth called me.”

“Did she now? You come down to tell me I'm an asshole”

“I don't make judgements till I hear both sides” I answered “So, tell me what happened.”

“So it fucking -”

“Calmly.” 

“It's over. I'm done with her. I have put up with so much shit from her. She treats me like a doormat, and only calls me when she needs something. Well she can go fuck herself” he says pacing around his apartment

“Okay, what exactly happened?”

“She gave the money back. Asked me to pay for us. She ignored everything I told her. All because she didn't want to sign some worthless bit of paper. Now I can't go to Moscow with her. Fine, she clearly didn't want me with her anyway.”

“Alright, and you told her?”

“I told her not to call me again. She wants to do this on her own fine. She can. She won't hear a word from me, but she can fuck off if she wants anything.” 

“You've been ignoring calls?”

“I didn't exactly feel like talking right now” 

“Alright, go get changed and I'll make you some tea”

“I don't -”

“Benny. Don't make me bonk you with a spoon” 

“Fine I will get changed” he sighed going to his room “and make coffee.”

“No tea. Coffee will keep you up and you do not need more energy right now” I explained going and making some nice tea one for me and one for Benny taking and sitting them both on the small table in the centre of the living space, as well as a glass of water I took a small dustpan and brush from the cabinet and cleaned up the broken glass from the bottle as well as any other little mess that littered the apartment. I went to the small record player beside the chair and for a moment flipped through his small collection grabbing a nice album of some gentle swing music adding it to the player letting it spin and turning it down to almost nothing, and I took a seat on the pile of pillows he used as a sofa. Soon enough he returned with a fresh set of clothes, some new jeans, a black T-shirt and his green button-down 

“There you feel a little better now?”

“It is nice to have some fresh clothes on” he grunted back 

“Come on” I offered patting the pillow beside me

“I'm not in the mood y/n”

“Benny. Come here.”

He rolled his eyes but came and sat beside me still as angry and frustrated as before leaning his head against the exposed bricks 

“Good, now when did you last drink something?”

“I'm not thirsty”

“Did I ask that?”

“No”

“When did you last drink something? You're only going to give yourself a headache” I told him, offering him the water but he turned away “Hydrate. Or I will hit you with a spoon”

He took the glass and had a sizable sip 

“Thank you, now come here and talk it out” 

“Y/n I know you mean well but I’m-”

“I will get the spoon in a minute.” I warn “Come” I demanded patting my thigh

He rolled his eyes but leant over so I wrapped my arms around him letting him lay his head in my lap “I don't see how this is going to help”

“You need to acknowledge and work through your feelings”

“I don't have feelings. I'm a man.”

“Ohh no you don't have feelings. That's why you've been spending your days in a dark basement drinking like a fish and frustrated smoking. No feelings at all” I smiled gently petting his soft fluffy hair 

“I don't need to work through my feelings.”

“Yes, you do. Otherwise, you're just going to be angry forever. And god knows I can't deal with that” I laughed

“Fine” he sighed 

“Take a moment just to clear the brain” I smiled playing with his hair in all the usual spots he liked me too

“My brain doesn’t clear.”

“Then hyperfocus. On the ticking of the clock, the nice gentle music, clear the mind of all other things and just exist for a moment”

We sat for a few moments just enjoying the quiet of his basement, the gentle hum of the music and the rhythm of our breaths

“Okay” He nods sounding far calmer than before

“That help?”

“A little”

“Okay do a Big breath in.”

“Why do I-”

“Benny” I warned so he did as I asked “Big breath in. And back out. Another one in… and another out. Okay? Feel a little better?” I smiled walking him through it a few times

“A bit” 

“Are you calmer?”

“Somewhat”

“So, tell me what happened”

“You going to tell me when I’m wrong?”

“No. I'm not going to say anything you just explain and I will listen.” 

“I try asking her for months to come up to New York, actually spend some time together, no she's busy she needs to do this, she needs to do that, she ghosts me for six months, okay I try asking to go to Paris with her support her with the tournament, no she's going on her own, she can't afford to take me too, so fine she goes on her own only when she's fucked herself up so bad she looses her tournament and has headlines everywhere she was drunk as a sailor then! I got a call. I try to be supportive and offer to pick her up from the airport. No, she wants to be alone. I try to talk her through everything and offer her a safe space, so we can be together and work stuff out, no she wants to be alone. She wants to drink. Fine, I try! I try and say she can drink so long as she came here no she wants to go and get drunk. She goes home to Kentucky and ghosts me again. She calls me finally because she wants my advice and again I try to get her to come here, I try and be nice hell I told her I fucking missed her nope she wants to stay on her own meaning she wants to fucking drink. And again I'm ghosted. She completely ignores what I tell her to do. She gives the church their money and calls me up like I'm the problem! Like I haven't spent the last year waiting for your phone calls like some abandoned puppy! Says she's paying her own way to Moscow and can't afford to take me with her, if I wanna come I need to pay, when she knows full well I don't have two thousand dollars laying around to jet off to Moscow. Accused me of gambling it all away. So fuck it. Fuck her. She wants to go and her drunk and fuck her life up that's her decision she's not taking me down with her. I'm not staying as her fucking doormat fuck to treat her how she wants. If she'd rather get drunk than be with me fine I hope she and her bottle are happy” 

“How did that make you feel?”

“Like shit.”

“Benny, feelings are not shit. use your words. Not just your swears.”

“Like… why should I bother you know? Like I'm trying so so much and you're giving absolutely nothing back. And that makes me feel like I'm the asshole for wanting anything”

“You're not an asshole for wanting acknowledgement Benny. You've done a lot for Beth and it's not easy for you to be emotionally numerable”

“Exactly! It's like you bare your fucking soul to someone and their response is okay cool. What else? Like I don't know what more you want from me. Am I being a dick? Asking for too much or something?”

“I don't think so, I do think you also need to respect Beth is also not an emotional person. The two of you aren't going to have a great emotional conversation because neither of you are good emotional communicators and that's fine some people aren't, but it would seem you are putting a lot of effort in, now Beth may not see it as a lot of effort in her mind and may not be seeing how much effort that Is for you and not appreciate it as much or it could be that she just expects more. and if you can't give her that then you can't there's nothing wrong with that Benny” 

“Do you think I'm an emotionally distant person?”

“You can be. You're… very practical Benny. You're emotional to the extent of practically, when emotions aren't useful you don't bother to express them. But I do think you not in the wrong here you've made a lot of moves to be more outwardly expressive and it was clear you were upset long before this” I explained “I think, and of course, you don't need to take my advice. But I think you and Beth need time apart I think you both need to not see one another, not speak to one another, for a couple of weeks I think you both need to separately decide the kind of relationship you want together. If you want to have the kind of relationship where you call every other day and talk or if you want a relationship where you talk every six months how much emotional investment you each have needs to be equal and it clearly isn't so I think spend time apart to think and when she gets back from Moscow you two need to talk and see where you go from here.”

“... Your right.” He sighed sitting up “Where did you learn all this stuff anyway?” He asks having some tea 

“Therapy. You know that thing I keep telling you to go to”

“I don't need therapy”

“Everyone needs therapy, Benny.”

“I don’t” 

“Yes, you do.” I told him “You have a lot of untapped emotional issues rattling around in that big head of yours” I told him having some tea “And I’m boarder line convinced you have… some type of-”

“No I don’t” he snapped

“Benny you hyperfocus on chess, don’t understand your own emotions, freak out when someone tries to touch your skin, and use your rings like fidget toys… and you don’t think there might be a possibility you could have some form of -”

“No.” 

“Fine, fine. I’m not going to argue with you” I giggled “You should go to therapy though Benny.”

“Ohh what because I have ‘emotional trauma’?”

“Yes. you do.” I told him “Even if it's just having someone to talk to, to rant about your problems”

“That's why I have you” 

“I'm not your therapist Benny”

“Sorry”

“It's fine” I smiled pressing a kiss to the top of his head “You really liked her didn't you?”

“I did. I kinda thought we were the same. Maybe we're too much alike”

“Do you think maybe… you're seeing the bad things in Beth that you see in yourself?”

“Kinda. I think it's … made me realize how bad it is to be on that side of it. To be the one waiting by the phone on the promise of a call that never comes. I think I'm .. trying though. I can see how bad it is and in trying to fix it but just feels like bailing a bucket out a lake” 

“Well, baby steps. Just the fact you see it and are making steps is still better. You're never going to bail the lake if you don't start with a bucket”

“I guess so. It makes me wonder… how she sees me. I know officially we didn't label anything but, I kinda think she just saw me as a chessboard that could make her cum” 

“What did you want her to be?”

“....I don't know. Guess I wanted someone to call. Someone to spend time with. Someone who wants to talk to me. Listens to me. Makes me feel like what I say makes a difference. Like I Matter to them. Someone who gets excited about spending time with me, who wants to be with me not because we might play chess or we might have sex but just because we like being together”

“You ever tell her that?”

“No.”

“Then … you can't expect her to give you that Benny. She's not a mind reader. She doesn't know that's what you want same as you don't know what she wants. You two are both people not great at emotions be the best course is to straight forward sit her down and say that's what you want and if that's not what she wants you can either try to find a middle ground or that can be it”

“Your right. But I don't want to see her. Or talk to her. I don't completely want to think about her but there's no getting out of that” he explained lighting another cigarette “But I'm done. Unless she's willing to try I don't want anything more than to be her friend”

“If that's what you want. That's what you want” I smiled taking the cigarette from him putting it out in the table’s ashtray “You’re not smoking because you want it you smoking because your frustrated.” I laughed

“Your therapist tell you that too?”

“No. I just know you, Benny. Besides you’ve been doing really good. Don’t destroy all your progress just because you’re mad” I told him 

“You rather I drink?”

“I’d rather you have healthy coping mechanisms but you know… baby steps.” I smiled “You feel a bit better? Got all that off your chest?”

“Yeah. Thanks y/n.”

“Your welcome” I smirked having some tea “It's kinda funny”

“What is?”

“That's exactly what I wanted. Back when we …”

“Really?” He asks 

“Yeah. I'd have killed for you to want to spend time with me without it seeming like I was dragging you away from something you wanted to do more”

“.... Fuck. I was a dick.”

“You kinda were.” I laughed “But we wanted different things that's okay”

“I feel like shit. Maybe things would be different if I figured out this is what I wanted”

“Maybe” I shrug “But you didn’t want that then that’s fine you can change your mind as life changes, that wasn’t the sort of thing you wanted then”

“You’re a very emotional person. I think I struggled with that”

“I can be… overly emotional. In working on it. Trying not to overthink everything so much.” I said “How do you think it felt for me sitting here miles deep in overthinking as to why you weren’t talking to me, that you were mad, that I did something wrong, all the while you just sat there playing chess completely unaware I was even upset being quiet because… you like to sit quietly.”

“I saw you were upset… when it was too late. By the time I picked up on it you crying so far down an emotional rabbit hole even if I did know How to deal with it, it was kinda too late”

“And yes that is on you for not noticing my emotions but also on me for not being clearer with them, literally could have fixed all my overthinking with, Benny are you mad at me? But no I wanted to sit there pouting getting more and more anxious waiting for you to figure out that I was worried.” 

“I always felt like a dick for asking you what was wrong,”

“Because I wanted you to pick up on it. I didn’t want to tell you I just wanted you to pick up and fix it. And that's on me. That was my issue and I’m getting better. Can’t expect people to know everything. But you're getting better too, learning when people are upset being more outwardly emotional if you need a little coaxing.”

“Or threatening” 

“Everyone is different Benny. The sooner you realize that the easier life is. Everyone you speak to, and everyone you see is completely different we all think differently, behave differently, and have different responses to things, and no one can read minds. We all need to give each other a little more slack because we don't know what's going on in their head and they'll never know what's happening in ours. Some people can read emotions across your face like a book, some people need to be told or they'll never learn. I was an emotionally overthinking young woman craving emotional intimacy without having to ask for it. While being in a non-official relationship with a man who can't read emotions, has a hard time expressing his feelings and craves reassurance. On top of the very basic one, what's to fuck one wants to love problem. You surprised it went south?” 

“I crave reassurance?”

“Benny. You're a chess player who dresses like a goth pirate.”

“Point taken” 

“It's fine people grow and change neither of us are the people we were then”

“That's true” he nods “Can I get the number for your therapist?”

“Why?”

“He sounds good. The fact you rattled all that off is pretty impressive”

“Find your own therapist. Don't want conflicts of interest”

For a moment he was puzzled “You talk about me in therapy?”

“Yeah”

“God was I that much of a cunt?”

“No. You’re my friend. Our lives are very intertwined is all” I laughed leaning on his shoulder 

“that’s fair” he laughed “... Do you think I ask for too much? With Beth?”

“I think… you ask for more than she's comfortable with. Let's face it Benny your fighting against an addiction. You might have an ego and you might love chess but you're not physically addicted to it” 

“I just feel like in trying so hard, pushing myself so far beyond what I'd normally be comfortable with the least she can do is try”

“if that's how you feel. Then I think she should respond to that”

“I'm not a dick?”

“I don't think so” I smiled

“Thanks y/n. I'm really thankful you came over”

“Well I can't just leave you someone has to try and get you through these gross… feelings you're not used to”

“Can you stay?”

“What?”

“Can you stay? I don't think I wanna be on my own tonight”

“Of course Benny”

We stayed up a little long chatting about things but soon it came time for bed he put up the air bed for himself and I took his bed even if I argued but he let me have it. 

I changed borrowing one of his shirts for the night getting cosy in the warm bed. 

The lights out the only sound the occasional sound of the New York cars above the basement. 

I was about to drift off when I perked up hearing the creek of the door and soon enough the covers moved and Benny crawled in with me 

“Hi”

“Hi”

“Did you want your own bed back?”

“No, I just… I don't wanna be alone right now” he says slowly wrapping his arms around me and pulling me tight to his body my hips to his my back to his chest squeezing me almost like I was his teddy bear 

“Okay Benny, you don't need to worry I'll be right here,” I reassured letting him squeeze me tightly to his body, he held me tight pressing his lips to my shoulder 

“Can I get my anger out?” He asked 

“Alright” I nodded 

He moved and pushed me down on my back “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I nodded 

He nodded and leant down to nibble and kiss my neck, before he pulled down his boxers and tugged off my panties, he started off gently slipping himself inside me he held my hips firmly digging his nails into my skin as he aggressively thrusted, often bitting his lips and gritting his teeth letting out his frustration and anger though the movement of his hips. He began to slow so I smiled and held his hips gently turning us so he laid on his back and I sat on top of him gently moving my hips slowly “Reveling in your anger is not going to make you feel better” I smiled stroking his stomach as I moved 

“I know. I just wanted to get the anger out” he sighed moving his hips with me 

“Wouldn’t this be nicer?”

“It is much nicer.” he smiled “Nice and calming” He cooed sitting up a little and wrapping his arms around me to pull me into his chest for an intense kiss I smiled into the kiss as I moved my hips faster trying to match his own speed getting more and more intense the longer it went on I knew I was close starting to nibble on his neck as I began to slow getting close to my edge he noticed and smirked making sure to work as hard as he could letting out the last of his frustration until I reached my peak biting his neck as I did which in turn got him to his own edge burying himself deep inside me and riding it out before he collapsed against the bed and I basically fell off onto the other side 

“Feel better now Benny?”

“Yeah” he nods between gasps “That is way better than therapy” 

“They're not mutually exclusive Benny.”

“I still think this is better”

“You can’t just ignore your feelings and deal with your frustrations through sex” I told him

He smirked and turned over to spoon me “Did it work?” 

“...yes but?”

“Did it work?”

“Yes.”

“Then I'm gonna do it” he shrugs 

“Alright Benny, if that’s how you wanna deal with your feelings” I laughed “Come on, let's get some sleep”

“Alright, Night”

“Night” I smiled giving him a little kiss before we cuddled up and drifted off to sleep. 

I yawned as I woke up I gently pushed Benny’s arms off me climbed out the bed and headed across the apartment, I went to the kitchen and began to make coffee humming to myself a little. 

“Morning,” Benny spoke up from the bedroom door

“Morning, How are you feeling today?”

“Better. Much better” he smiled coming and wrapping his arms around me giving my neck some kisses “You always make me feel better”

“I do?”

“You do. I’m sorry”

“For what?”

“For being a dick, when we…” he began “I realize it and I’m sorry”

“That's very sweet. Apology accepted. I’m sorry for how I was too”

“Apology accepted” he smiled 

“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with the shit from Beth”

“It’s fine. I know how to deal with it”

“Oh?”

“She can find another doormat. She wants to drink and wants to go on her own she can. I don’t want that. We can be friends if she wants but nothing more than that. I don’t feel like I want anything more”

“Okay. I’m proud of you, for expressing your feelings” I smiled

“Did you wanna stay for a while? Spend some time together?”

“Is that also part of you dealing with this?” I giggled turning to face him

“Kinda. But Now I know what you wanted. And I want that too. Maybe now we're a little older we’ll be better, more communicative, better with our feelings. So? Did you wanna try again?”

“On one condition.”

“Oh?”

“Go to therapy, Benny.” 

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

“How much therapy?”

“How about one session, one date.”

“Three dates one session”

“Two.” “Deal” he smiled pulling me into a sweet kiss “Will you help me find one?”

“Yes, I will.” I giggled “Come on we’ll have coffee and a cuddle”

“Sounds perfect” 

[nalyra-dreaming]

Pre season 2 rant - heavy on sarcasm!

This is the... well by now somewhat meditated on rant I promised a while ago. It has a lot of cussing, so be warned.

It is a… summary comment about some views I‘ve seen around, from “bad writing“ to the “abuse“ and other things. Oh, and it's about the "lying" subject. With receipts!

I‘m getting this out of my system before season 2 hits, and before more of the press leading up to it is released, because cast, crew and writers as well as the show have given us all of it already and, tbh, if I‘m going to see anyone scream “bad writing“ or “Louis being made a liar or the memories revisited/changed is racism“ when the changes will hit I‘m just gonna block you.

Fair warning.

This is long… so under the cut.

This show has made color-conscious choices. Brilliantly so. They also have an astonishing meta level.

And what we saw was not the truth.

That much is clear now. HAS ACTUALLY BEEN CLEAR FROM THE END OF SEASON 1 ON.

Jacob has said at the TCA panel that Louis is trying to regain his true memories.

Here is a reminder of some key statements by cast and crew:

Here are interviews and statements by Assad and Jacob and Sam and Rolin and the writers & producers that what we have seen was not the (whole) truth, that Louis’ tale has been “tinkered” with, influenced.

I'm heroically refraining from adding the gifs of Rolin and his statement again. Which are from the episode insider… and remember when that aired?! Yeah… 😒

But I've seen things recently that make me want to pull my hair out, to be frank. For example this, behind the link:

...Like, not making him a whole flat ass liar is actually the point, guys. And no it does not undermine the story....

As the writers said:

I mean, I get it to an extent. It's becoming clearer and clearer that the show some people made up in their heads is not the one they'll be getting. (We've been trying to tell them, but hey.)

Yeah.... That.

Unfortunately @blackgirlasis has blocked me, (and I have returned the favor now that I noticed), we only discussed something recently, but I think the reason might have been after I posted that video, in which it is literally said that "not everything Louis says is a lie", which, given her statements here might speak for itself, especially this part of that statement:

"It is actually ACTIVELY harmful to perpetuate the idea that the Black characters aren't to be trusted with the narrative and that we need Lestat to come through with the honest accounting."

You know, I would actually agree! Which is also why I always emphasized that we did not get the WHOLE truth. I also kept more than hinting at the fact that Armand is, well Armand.

BUT - and here it gets interesting - why is JACOB's - a BLACK man's - statement discarded? Why do they do not want to hear it that Louis does, in fact, lie? And, just to be clear - I do not NEED Louis to lie, nor be proven a liar, and I think the show will do its damndest to explain via the "tinkering" that Armand did. They will give some of the blame to Armand.

But to flip one's shit over argumentation that the MAIN CHARACTER, a BLACK MAN has already stated... that is what I find interesting.

Like, why do you* (*generally spoken, not her especially) accuse people of racism over this, when HE has already said that Louis does, indeed, lie. Why is he not actually listened to? I don't get that. Why is agency taken away from a living, breathing person to give it to a fictional character? Why is his statement that "not all representation needs to be healthy representation" not kept in mind?

Louis is Louis. Louis being color-consciously handled didn't "change the character an awful lot".

JACOB said that. Here. Interestingly enough in a comment about the racial consideration the show does(!).

Louis is NOT a whole other character despite the changes, and the twists that will happen in season 2 were always set to come, as the friggin' video of BEFORE the show aired is proof of. They talked about all that. They know it didn't all happen as shown. They knew Louis did lie. But NOT about everything.

They also knew that some of the scenes did not happen (at least as shown). And now... "it’s clear that Louis is somebody hugely angry with a man he loved deeply and now presents them as a monster…" Also Jacob Anderson.

Presents. Them. As. A. Monster.

Bailey Bass said in the SDCC interview, that it is not clear who is the "villain here" in various scenes, interestingly enough, because the dynamic keeps changing. Which of course was after they shot a myriad of scenes that would not make it into the final s1 cut. Again: why is she not listened to? Why do you take her agency away to give it to a fictional character?

And I'm not even starting on the others. Sam. Rolin. The writers.

Also, re the abuse and scenes being revisited. Again, screenshot as example:

There is nothing simple about this show. Especially that scene.

BUT the show knows what it‘s doing! I'm not going to rehash all that here now, here are links on that.

AND THE WRITERS SAYING IT WILL BE REVISITED... is from December 21, 2022.

DECEMBER 22.

A revisit and a change of that scene will not be bad writing. (Or tasteless.) They already DID so in the last episode of season 1, continuing that will simply fall into line with what we have already been given. That's not bad writing. That's just the show, and there's people who just did not want to examine that.

Because it will be echoed, and it will serve a purpose.

I know the show did the meta level of patriarchal domestic abuse, but for fuck‘s sake, the story itself is about vampires struggling, and Louis is struggling.

The show has a meta level of abuse, and patriarchy, and recognizing is valid and the meta discussions are too.

But Louis is not chained to his coffin guys, he could have left, and a fight which shows off power discrepancies within the show story line is not automatically domestic abuse.

*slow clap*

No-one wants this to happen for the sake of "redeeming" Lestat. Because he does not need that redemption. They're all murderers and monsters.

They kill. For a living. LITERALLY.

THEY ARE VAMPIRES It's not about vampires trying to find their humanity.

It's about vampires trying to find a way to live with themselves, because they are, indeed, monsters.

Doubting the narrative which was TORN APART WITHIN THE SHOW is not the same as bad writing or racism FFS, nor is actually looking at what we're given - and knowing the fucking, 50 year old books. And recognizing the hints and parallels.

I have also seen the take that Lestat isolated Louis... and like, did we watch the same show? You know, even with the vampirism (which, of course™, could not free Louis as promised)...

Months of flirting openly in NOLA, public wooing. DECADES LIVING IN NOLA. Operas. Restaurants. Family dinners. (And Louis stopping Lestat there, AS a mortal...) Cleaning the cribs, years of "human entanglement" because Louis wanted it.... Banjo barbecues, political influence, wakes... Everybody knew.

(Like, I could pull up gifs here.)

"Isolation". Right. It has nothing, at all, to do with the Rite of Passage, or Louis' depression.

Of course not.

I mean, Jacob says that Louis is very depressed during the time leading up to the fight, and his and Sam's discussion here is interesting as well, but hey, I mean, why listen to the actual black actor, right.

As a last thing.

Yeah. Tell me you know nothing about the books without telling me you know nothing about the books.

And, as a note, context is important if you pull up other scenes from the VC.

Welcome to the fucking Vampire Chronicles.

Anyone expecting big bad patriarchal abuser Lestat is not going to have a good time.

And honestly, to those: don't let the door hit you on the way out.

Good riddance - and BON VOYAGE

[bloodstainedsaint]

thank you thank you thank yooou!! And I don’t mind waiting for good stuff 🤷‍♀️

Okay so my idea kinda was in episode 7 when George and Lipton is in the same foxhole. So they get “hit” by the dud but the reader is so scared something actually happened to George, so she is running towards their foxhole and George is screaming for her to stay put cuz he’s okay and then she gets hit….or almost…I mean something tragic. I wanna bawl my eyes out.

And of course…feel free to not do it, if you think it sucks🧡 Love your stuff and have a good day !

louder than bombs (george luz x reader)

word count: 1800+

warnings: blood, gore, death, angst (w happy ending), bff! roe, mutual pining, i hint at both renée x roe AND baberoe

notes: used some hcs from this (shameless self-plug), and happy new year to all! i hope that 2024 is your year :)

“So, you and Luz, huh?”

Despite Lieutenant Dike’s request not to (like you'd listen to a coward like him anyway, even if he did have a good point), you and Eugene were sharing a foxhole — one a few meters behind where Skip, Penk, Don, and Luz were standing around in a circle, joking and laughing.

Taking your eyes off the man in question — you'd been staring at him from afar for too long, anyway — you turned to Eugene with a befuddled expression. “What do you mean, ‘You and Luz?’”

He took one look at your face and chuckled around the cigarette in his mouth. “It can mean whatever you want it to mean.”

“You say that as if we’re together or something, Gene,” you scoffed and held yourself tighter for warmth.

“Practically. Seen yourself lately? You blush and smile whenever he talks to you.”

Spluttering in response, you could feel your ears going red. “Well, Bayou, what if I’m blushing because it's zero degrees out here? And what if he’s just a funny guy in general?”

Eugene glanced over to the group of men, and, as if on cue, they were cracking up at George’s impression of the chickenshit lieutenant. “He’s a good match for you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, I'm so glad you approve,” you said, rolling your eyes at your friend. “Gonna read our wedding rites now?”

He put out his cigarette. “He makes you laugh. We could all use some of that.”

You inspected the faraway look in Eugene’s eyes, and you knew he was right. The fatal accident with the goddamned Luger that killed Hoobler recently, the barrage earlier today that sent both Joe Toye and Bill home with missing right legs, the overall misery of this frozen hell. You’d all seen your fair share of blood and open flesh; the company needed the beam of light that was George Luz.

Watching Luz as he was pulled aside by Lipton, you exhaled, nodded, and huddled a little closer to Eugene. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right.” After a few quiet, thoughtful moments, a small smile creeped back up on your face when you thought of something to bring up the mood again.

“You never heard me teasing you about Renée,” you muttered beneath your breath, loud enough for him to hear and correct you on because you had teased him about the Belgian nurse. Before he could, you pushed on, your grin growing, “Hey, what about you and Babe, huh?”

Now it was his turn to turn to you shocked. Your snickering was interrupted by the roaring, deafening sound of a bombardment shredding trees around you.

“Shit!” you cursed, the night sky lighting up with fireworks of yellow and white. Snow and dirt erupted from the ground like spurts of lava from a volcano. Through the ringing in your ears, you heard bellows of “Incoming!” and other indistinct cries.

Turning to the man next to you, you shouted above the din, “Eugene, you alright?”

“Fine,” he shouted back as he clutched his helmet tight to his head. “You?”

“Fine,” you echoed with a nod, though maybe your head had moved on its own with the shaking ground beneath you. You strained your ears to single out cries for a medic; you didn't catch any, and you weren't sure if that was because no one had gotten hurt yet or because they were dead within an instant.

You peeped over the edge of your foxhole. In the flashes of light, you could make out amongst the silhouette of wrecked trees George hurriedly crawling on the ground towards a foxhole with two soldiers in it, yelling for him to come on. If your hearing wasn't failing you, you recognized their voices as Skip and Penk.

“What d’ya see?” Eugene poked his head out of the foxhole.

Your voice was strangled in your throat as you helplessly watched George inch his way toward cover. “I—” you started, before a shell directly hit the two men in the middle of their calls. Frantically, you backed into your foxhole. “Skip and Penk, they’re…”

“What?” Eugene shouted, and you realized you had only murmured it.

“Muck and Penkala got hit!” you cried. The look you gave Eugene told him that there would be no saving them.

You got back up to peek over your foxhole and saw that Luz had vanished. Your heart sank in your chest, right down to the pits of your stomach.

Before your mind could register what was going on, your feet lifted you up and out of the foxhole. You could faintly hear Eugene yelling at you to come back, (Y/N), what the hell are you doing? You hit the ground at the same time a shell did just meters away from you, showering you in debris. Yet, you felt distant from the thought of danger or bodily harm, your raw instinct on overdrive; the only thing that was running through your mind as you dashed through the devastated forest was if George was okay.

Eyes flitting around, you caught a glimpse of him getting into a foxhole with Lip. As waves of relief washed over you, you jumped into a foxhole a distance behind them. A shell impacted nearby and swept the fallen trees acting as their cover towards you. You pulled your knees close to your chest and covered your head, staying like that as the barrage kept up.

Then, for just a second, it was silent. Closing your eyes, you caught your breath. A whistling sound ceased the brief respite, and you peered over just in time to see smoke coming from George and Lipton’s foxhole. Your mind disconnected itself from your body once again; it felt like you were moving in slow motion as your feet took you to them. That smoke clouded your senses, your thoughts — all you could see and hear were the vivid memories of Hoobler’s wound gushing blood and his dull eyes closing shut for the last time; you treating Bill’s still twitching leg while Toye’s shredded one was being bandaged by Eugene only feet away; and Muck and Penkala’s foxhole going up in a spray of dirt and a show of light, abruptly cutting off their shouting.

What were you going to see when you arrived at their foxhole? Bloodstained snow? Mangled limbs? Ruined corpses? Even the thought made you want to sob.

Your heart thundered in your ear, louder than any bombs or artillery the Germans could send at you, but you could vaguely discern George’s voice in your trance.

“Damn it, am I yelling medic? Stay right fucking there, (Y/N)!”

Right as you were shaken out of your own head, your eyes focusing on the two unharmed men as they yelled for you to stay put, a shell hit a tree hardly an arm’s length away from you. The burst launched you backwards, lodging shrapnel into your face and all over your body.

You let your eyes flutter closed as the screaming started.

-

“(Y/N)!” George bawled, witnessing the last shell of the bombardment blast the tree right next to you.

“George, get down!” Lip pushed George down into the foxhole from where he'd been peeking over to helplessly watch your unsteady advance.

George couldn't get the image of you shielding yourself at the last second out of his head. He broke free from Lipton and crawled out of his foxhole to your unmoving figure, relieved to find that you were still breathing out clouds of vapor, albeit unevenly. Your right cheek was cut and bleeding, as well as your arms, legs, torso — hell, was there anywhere you weren’t bleeding from?

He cradled your head to his, whispering that it's gonna be alright and you’re gonna be just dandy, (Y/N), even though he didn't believe those words himself. He lifted his head from yours and yelled for a medic with a hoarse voice, already scratched up from having to shout over the booming to tell Lipton that Muck and Penkala got hit.

George then realized that he had gotten extremely lucky that day; Muck and Penkala had been shelled just before he reached their foxhole, and the shell that had landed next to him and Lipton was a dud. Staring down at your bloodied form, he darkly concluded that maybe he wasn't lucky — maybe he just brought bad luck to everyone else.

Eugene seemed to materialize out of thin air at the panicked calls for a doctor and kneeled over you, ordering, “Set ‘em down, set ‘em down!” George laid you down on the icy ground, and he saw that your eyes were open now, darting around at your surroundings. You looked frightened and pained, yet when your eyes finally settled on him, you seemed somewhat at ease.

“Jesus, what did I tell you, (Y/N)?” Eugene reprimanded, but the concern in his voice was evident. He began picking out the shrapnel from your flesh, and you wailed out in agony. Ripping open a sulfa packet with his teeth, he then shook the powder onto your countless wounds.

In the back of his mind, George knew that your pained whimpers would haunt him forever if you didn't pull through, acting as the price of his "good luck".

“Told me to come back, Genie,” you smiled mirthlessly, which quickly became a wince with the gash in your cheek. The white medic band around your arm was stained the same color as the red cross on it.

Lipton was out of the foxhole at this point and assisting Eugene with bandaging your injuries. “You’ll be fine, alright? Just hang in there.”

George registered that he had only been staring, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. He intertwined his fingers with yours and squeezed your clammy hand, to which you weakly squeezed back.

Grimacing while he injected you with morphine, Eugene said to Lipton, “They’re bleeding bad, Sarge; we gotta get ‘em back to an aid station.”

George’s voice sounded far off from himself. “I’ll radio for a jeep.” As he did so, his hand still clutching yours, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the excruciation on your face. For some reason, he felt guilty.

Though it felt like years to him, the jeep arrived shortly, and the three of them carried you to the stretcher on the hood of the vehicle and gingerly placed you upon it.

Gazing down upon you on that stretcher, your face streaked with crimson, your hair matted with dried blood, George wanted to say, “I still find you beautiful, Bloody Mary," but for what felt like first time in his life, the words weren't there and the wiseass comment just refused to come out right.

What came tumbling out of his lips instead was, “I love you.”

Pausing, Lipton and Eugene exchanged a knowing look and watched with bated breath. Meanwhile, George wanted to smack himself for letting the adrenaline coursing through his veins get to him; this was definitely not what you wanted to hear — rejecting him should be the least of your worries right now.

To his utter disbelief, you smiled, in spite of yourself and the grim circumstances. “I love you too, George.”

Once his brain wrapped around the fact that you needed him as much as he needed you, he implored, "Come back to me, alright?” He gently caressed your cheek, his voice sounding different to himself with the undertone of desperation. “I—I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You placed a feeble hand over his and turned to press a kiss to it. “I'm counting on it.”

The driver finally grew tired of the delay and urged them to get moving. George stepped away as Eugene hopped in the jeep’s shotgun seat to escort you back to the aid station.

Lighting a cigarette with trembling hands, George watched the jeep dissipate into the blanket of night.

-

Eugene let things sink in for a while; you were grateful for the time to rest as the morphine kicked in. When you arrived, though, you were awake enough to hear him ask again, a rare smirk hidden in his voice:

“So, you and Luz, huh?”

-

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @samwinchesterslostshoe, @fxxiva

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

MATH~POPE HEYWARD

Warning: +18,smut, English is not my first language

It was one of those afternoons when the sun sets late, and the warm light still came in through my bedroom window, illuminating the table where Pope and I were bent over, surrounded by books and math notebooks. His gaze was focused, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tried to solve yet another algebra problem our teacher had given us.

I, sitting next to him, observed him. I couldn't take my eyes off him, enchanted by his features, so intent on that thoughtful expression. He flipped through the pages, muttering formulas under his breath while I smiled to myself, thinking about how beautiful it was. It came naturally to me to get a little closer, until I could perceive its warmth and its familiar fragrance.

"Pope, how do you think this is resolved?" I asked, pointing to a problem I had already solved just to get his attention.

He turned to me with a serious look, but there was a sweetness in his eyes that melted my heart. "Wait... this should work out with the formula we saw yesterday. Let me think about it for a moment," he said, immediately going back to studying the formulas.

His concentration was such that he didn't even notice when I got even closer, so much so that I could place my lips on his neck. And I started giving him little kisses on his neck while he sighed and closed his eyes

"Hey... what are you doing? We're studying," he said, though his voice betrayed a hint of excitement.

"Oh, yes?" I said, moving closer again and giving him a few more kisses as I moved my hand down to his covered cock while squeezing it while Pope moaned

“Y/n” he said as he took your hand trying to still the movements

"It doesn't sound like you're just focusing on your homework," I murmured as I straddled him and began to move on his clothed erection as he moaned.

"It's not fair, you're distracting me," he protested, although he didn't seem bothered in the slightest. "Didn't you want to solve the problem?"

I bit my lip, trying to hide a smile. "Maybe there's another problem I want to solve," I whispered as I kissed him passionately and he immediately kissed me back and I placed my hands on his shoulders forcing him to lie down as they continued to kiss him and move sensually on him while Pope rested his hands on my hips.

"Fuck math, this is so much better" Pope murmured close to my lips as I giggled and gave him one last kiss as I took off his shirt and moved my hands down his body and started kissing him and went down with my mouth until he I got close to his v-line and unbuttoned his jeans and took off his boxers as I started kissing his tip softly while playing with his balls.

"Baby," he moaned as he placed his hand on my head to urge me to continue. Then I started taking his cock in my mouth, sucking it and swirling it around on my tongue while he pushed himself hard into my mouth while screaming dirty words and complimenting me on how good I was.

“Keep it up, what a good girl, you're sucking me so good” Pope said as he pushed his big cock harder and harder into my mouth as he came into my mouth.

Once he was cum I took his cock out of my mouth and smiled looking at him "I think math has become my favorite subject" I said as I straddled him as I lowered my panties and lifted my skirt to line up on his big cock.

“Fuck y/n you will be the death of me” Pope said with a moan as he felt his cock tighten in my pussy.

[goorehound]

Finally starting to write something for these little bastards. But, I need feedback.

The gist: Human Lucifer (Louis, ew i know) is haunted by Alastor. AU type deal.

This is the unedited, very quickly written up first chapter. Do we fuck with it? Or should I brainstorm some other ideas?

Chapter One – Moving Day

This was totally a worthwhile purchase. Most definitely.

Sure, it was a lot creepier in the dwindling light, and without the bubbly overbearing energy of his realtor. Still, a beautiful property. Really it should’ve been saved as a historical site, but who was he to complain?

Gorgeous property, all while being a hop, skip and a jump away from his daughter’s new business. The perfect fresh start that his therapist had hinted at him desperately needing, a change of pace and environment to compliment his new rekindled relationship with his kids.

Refreshing new scenery. Or at least that’s what he repeated endlessly to himself, a stark contrast to the unease that settled deep in his bones while he maneuvered around half-unpacked boxes.

It hadn’t seemed this empty and dreary when he’d been signing all the paperwork. Good fucking god, this was probably the most silent building he’d ever been in. Concerningly quiet. Shouldn’t there be creaks? Birds outside? Anything?

He was surely overthinking all of this. What could be wrong with a little peace and quiet, really? This house, his new house, was on the edge of town. A little silence was to be expected, and working himself up over finally doing something good for himself was counterproductive.

Charlie calling! What a fantastic fucking distraction, yet another thing to add to the list of things he appreciated about her.

“Char! Hey!” He still needed to work on that greeting.

“Dad! Hi!” Oh man, she was just like him. That pulled on the heart strings. “How’s moving?”

“Oh good, yeah, yeah. Super good. Great.” He rambled on, eyes shifting around the boxes surrounding him. “Well, it’s a work in progress. We’ll get there.”

“Yeah.” She laughed back. “I was thinking – I mean, if its okay with you? Vaggie and I could come help out tomorrow, make you some dinner?”

“Oh, absolutely. Dying to meet this gal I keep hearing about, aha-ha.” Good lord, could that have possibly come out more awkward? This did not get easier, despite what he had been assured. That was fine, Charlie never seemed put off, and that’s what mattered. Right? He just had to win over this girlfriend of hers.

“Sounds good, I’ll --- Shit. Sorry, dad, I’ll text you. Duty calls.”

“Course, kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Dial tone. Ouch, but fair enough. She was busy, he had things to sort.

Which was precisely what he spent the rest of his evening doing. Throwing his entire focus into carefully and swiftly dissecting piles of boxes. He’d even gotten as far as unpacking and setting up the television. Really not his thing normally, but when it had come up in conversation with Charlie she’d all but insisted upon him buying one.  

So, he was giving in. Flicking on something random. Anything to drown out the sudden onslaught of random noises that he was doing everything to avoid thinking about. Old house. Here were the noises he was asking for earlier.  That’ll teach him not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Thud. Sliiide. Clack, clack, clack, creak.

Whatever. Just the house settling, nothing some good ol’ TV couldn’t drown out. Certainly it wasn’t somebody going about their business in the study just down the hall, that would be ridiculous. And, at this point in the evening, Lou had pointedly checked that room numerous times. He had confirmed with his very own eyes that it remained, thankfully, uninhabited.

It was completely fucking normal, actually, and Lou wasn’t remotely nervous about it. He felt so normal about it all that he decided to drift off on the couch, background chatter from the screen still buzzing on. Because who could stop him? It was his house and he could doze wherever he pleased, and it did not mean he was scared. He was a grown ass man, after all.

Click, click, sliiiide.

Yep, he was closing his eyes now. Dead to the world, oblivious to strange noises lurking about.

Hard to tell precisely how much time had passed from the time he drifted off until he was eased into a state of just barely conscious, still dazed by the twisting and nonsensical dream he’d been lulled into.

It was still dark.  A soft noise easing him further from his dream, but it was nothing soothing.

Hardly even familiar.

 Something repetitive. Metallic, almost? Akin to a slicing of meat, the sound echoing out from the kitchen.

There was only a matter of seconds to processes the sudden and nauseating stench of blood and viscera, enough to have his stomach flipping.

Then, there was a deafening, loud, wet slam from the kitchen. Like a corpse being tossed about.

That had his heart in his throat and feet on the ground before he could take another breath.

[softcthulhuwu]

Rambling thoughts after the first two episodes:

Now this might just be because I'm autistic and always chafe against rigid boxes and definitions, but it seems to me that our first spooky tales from the OIAR don't really fit neatly into Smirke's categories that we're all so used to from the Archives.

Granted one of them is fairly classic cut and dry Eye shit, but the other two seem to purposely skirt the boundaries between things like the Flesh and the Stranger etc.

Now of course in the Archives we have a fair few episodes that get funky with the boundaries especially later on like in the apocalypse, the chief example that comes to mind being the big ocean Jon had to row across seeming to be a fun mix of the horror the incomprehensibly huge of the Vast, and the crushing all consuming pressure you'd associate more with the Buried

But my point being that in season one in particular, aside from a few teething issues as a result of still figuring things out *badum tish*, most statements¹ fit fairly nicely into clear cut examples of the major fears. Makes sense, first season, gotta lay down the rules before you can get funky with them.

But here in Protocol we've got the benefits of it being a sequel series with a lot of the heavy lifting world-building-wise already done, most of the audience going in has preestablished expectations, so by starting with the old lines between the fears blurrier, this is an opportunity to hint that A) hey, maybe things are working not quite the same here, which IIRC was something they talked about on one of the livestreams after things were announced last year don't quote me on that I do not have a citation to hand (forgive me Hbomberguy for I have sinned),

And B) sure Smirke's system was one way of trying to understand the fears, but as we well learned last show, it's limited and imperfect, it's more of a spectrum than discreet categories. Smirke's was just one way of trying to break it down into more understandable chunks, but it's not the be-all end-all of it, and clearly far from the only way to do it. The OIAR has a whole massive handbook of its own categories to catalogue these things in a manageable way, one which is seemingly less concerned with philosophical ideas about "What kind of fear did you experience? That of prey hunted by predator, that of violent war-like carnage, livestock chopped up for parts?", and more of a nitty-gritty details oriented one, like a "okay but what actually happened to you, like, specifically? Was it 'reanimation - partial', or more an 'amalgamative', subsection 'semi' kinda deal? Yes this is important why do you ask" type system.

I dunno I just think it's cool and interesting, these are my late night thoughts I can't help it I'm in essay mode literally working on an essay about The Magnus Archives for uni. Getting a good grade in my autism interest it turns out is a thing that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

¹ not including Hilltop Road in this, Hilltop Road gonna Hilltop Road, that's a surprise tool to scare you later.

[bangtanficsforyou]

Girl of His Dreams (01)

Pairing: Fuckboi! Jungkook x Reader

Au: Strangers to Lovers au

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut (eventually)

Rating: 18+

Word count: 5K (approx)

Summary: You think Jungkook is the utter definition of beauty. Jungkook thinks you’re cute but just not his type. Throw a magic ring into the equation, that makes you look like the girl of his dreams and you have the perfect recipe for heartbreak and tears.

Main Masterlist | Prologue

If you enjoy my writing, consider supporting me on my patreon!

You're sure that the majority of people hate Mondays. Dread it even. You, on the other hand, used to look forward to Mondays because Mondays meant art classes. However, for the first time, you find yourself being a part of the Monday hater club. You just wish you could skip this day and remove its existence entirely. Or at least for this semester.

In the less than three days that you got to spend with your family, you had your fair share of relaxing moments. But after coming back to your dorms, it's like a part of you has realised that these distraction techniques are only temporary. Because there's no way for you to run away from the impact Jungkook's words have had on you.

Thankfully, yesterday you were tired from the journey and your mind did not have the energy to overthink. Which, you also think, is the reason why you could fall asleep so easily.

But now it's Monday which means art classes, which means you will see Jungkook again. There's no avoiding it. Worst of all, it's the first class of your day and you don't even have the time to prepare yourself.

As you make your way through the hallways and towards your designated room, your mind rushes to come up with all the ways in which you should be prepared to face Jungkook. It's like this one thing that you need to get right in order to save whatever amount of dignity you are left with.

Your imagination, however, is put to a halt when you find yourself in front of your class.

Gosh, this is going to be stressful.

You take a deep breath and tightly shut your eyes, before swinging the door of your classroom open. When you open them again, your eyes land on Jungkook's back, automatically.

Shit, he's already here and is sitting on your seat.

The sight of him, causes you to take a step back and you start second-guessing if you're ready to face him. It's not so much about his words anymore but rather how your body is reacting to seeing him. You were not feeling this way even a few moments ago and could have never predicted having to battle your thoughts like this.

You also don't have it in you to sit back and process the emotions you're feeling when your mind and body are screaming at you to run in the opposite direction. Somewhere away from Jungkook.

"Hey," someone taps on your shoulder, aggressively. "Do you plan to stand here for the rest of the day?"

You wince and face the person, only to roll your eyes when you realise who it is. "Can you for once, not be so aggressive?"

Brie rolls her eyes right back at you. "If I hadn't tapped you so hard, you might still be in your depressing dream world."

Shit. Are you making it obvious? In case you're, you can't have that. One of the many things that you had planned on, was to not show how affected and in turmoil you are. Because getting butthurt by people's words is not cool. It's childish and immature. Unfortunately, even though you want to, you can't do anything about the fact that the words had an impact on you, but you can work on not showing it and making it obvious.

Even if you're weak, you do not want to appear weak.

Not bothering to reply to Brie, you start walking towards your seat. You can't avoid facing him, what's the point of delaying it? You think you hear a "rude" coming from Brie but you don't pay much attention to it.

"Good morning, art girl," Jungkook says in greeting. When you respond to him with a simple nod and wordlessly ask him to scoot, he takes the hint that you're not interested in making conversations with him.

Understandable, he thinks. His words weren't exactly nice. But they had to be spoken. He had to make it clear that he isn't interested in you in some way or the other, sooner or later.

One might ask, why then, is he sitting next to you when he could have chosen any other seat? Well, your seat is right in front of the podium, so when he has to get up there to pose, he will have to walk the least. Plus, he didn't think it was important to change seats, anyway. He knows you won't mistake his actions again. Heck, you are not even talking to him, so why should he give up his ideal seat? A few moments of awkwardness is nothing he can't handle.

So, the two of you sit in silence with you occasionally operating on your phone, to find some distraction. For you, the atmosphere could not be any more suffocating.

Thankfully, around ten minutes later, your professor arrives, which gives you a bit of hope that you'll finally be out of your misery.

It takes a few moments of Miss Richardson chit-chatting with the class for the class to really begin. When Jungkook leaves your side you heave a deep sigh of relief as it feels like you can breathe again.

You arrange your materials and get ready to continue with the sketch. When you look up again, Jungkook is already shirtless and posing the same way he did in the last class.

You take a deep breath and take a look at your incomplete sketch. Hmmm. Where should you start with? As soon as the thought comes to mind, the eyes catch your attention. Something is missing. They need more details and some highlighting.

You involuntarily nod to yourself and make your decision. Eyes it is!

Quickly looking up, you take notice of Jungkook's eyes and then back to your sketch. Making a few quick observations, your pencil comes in contact with the paper to add some strokes at the corners of the eyes. After feeling satisfied, you look up again, to see what else you could add.

After a few moments of staring, you notice that there's a certain level of innocence in Jungkook's eyes. You look back to your sketch and notice that despite the strokes that you added, the eyes lack the ability to convey emotions and fail to stand out.

Your hands quickly get to work and you work on the irises. Your eyes do a quick back and forth between Jungkook and the sketch.

When you look up for the umpteenth time, you happen to find his eyes closed for a very brief moment as he blinks. When he opens his eyes, it's almost as if your brain starts to look at him from a completely different angle. Like one of those illusions, where you blink and only then does your brain catch up and sees the object for what it is.

It's almost as if you're seeing his eyes for the first time. And for the first time do you see the amount of beauty they hold. His eyes are so captivating and mysterious. It's like there's a library of books inside them, and you find yourself wondering what each of those books contain. You do not mind the idea of spending an eternity reading each and every book with great care so that you don't miss a single detail.

The feeling of a certain warmth blooming in your chest, grabs your attention and your face falls when you realise what exactly you were thinking.

Not again, you think. You can't do that again. You simply cannot afford to go down that road.

The feeling fuels a certain kind of anger in your veins and you find yourself feeling determined to finish the drawing as quickly as you possibly can. Because completing the sketch means not having to see Jungkook anymore.

Once you have caught your breath and are ready to start again, you pick up your pencil and get back to work. Unfortunately, it does not take too long for the thoughts to slip again. It's like his eyes have captivated you and you don't know how to get out.

As your anger turns into frustration, you admit defeat and think that it's a wise decision to work on the other body parts. You can get to the eyes again when your brain isn't behaving like it's on some sort of drug.

Focusing on the arms now, you restart. But much to your utter dismay, the same pattern follows. It only takes a few moments for you to notice how huge and sculpted his arms look. Your frustration grows as you keep trying to focus on other body areas but your thoughts keep going back to admiring his beauty and soon you find yourself running out of areas to work on.

Your agitation causes you to put an intense amount of pressure on the nib of your pencil until it breaks. The sight of the broken nib causes you to sigh and you feel pain at the thought of not being able to focus on the one thing you do right. When you feel tears pool in your eyes, you get up from your seat.

"Ma'am, I'm not feeling well, can I please be excused for a few moments?" You ask in a meek voice.

Miss Richardson, is one of those professors who's strict but at the same time gentle and observant. It might appear as if all she's been doing is sitting and updating grades on her laptop but in reality, she has also been keeping a close eye on the students and their activities.

By your constant fidgeting and squirming, it was obvious to her that no matter how hard you were trying to focus, for whatever reason, your mind was stuck somewhere else.

So when you come up to her asking if you could be excused, she is more than willing.

As soon as you're out, you beeline to the washroom. Locking the doors, you repetitively splash your face with cold water. If it was a movie, it would be one of those scenes where the female protagonist splashes water to get some sense back into her and then looks into the mirror with eyes heavy with emotion.

But this isn't a movie.

Although you look into the mirror with your hands gripping the edges of the sink tightly and your eyes are heavy with emotion, this is not a movie. Because you aren't pretty enough to be the main protagonist.

With that thought, it all comes crashing down. Every emotion that you couldn't make sense of suddenly starts making sense.

You aren't naive or foolish enough to think that Jungkook is the only good-looking man out there. There are people who are just as good-looking or maybe even more. The world is not limited to him.

But how does that make any difference?

Like every other person, you have had dreams of your prince charming, of your soulmate and what your 'forever' person would look like. In all of those, he was someone breathtaking, someone gorgeous and someone who's the utter definition of beauty. They loved you unconditionally and were just as much in awe with you, as you were with them.

Never did you consider the possibility that they might find you unattractive.

You are also, aware that just because Jungkook implied that he finds you unattractive or not conventionally good-looking, does not mean every other guy will hold the same opinion of you. But then, your history with men or lack thereof, simply proves that no one has ever found you good-looking either.

Why would they? You've got eyes and you can point out a hundred things wrong with your face in the blink of an eye. Everyone dreams of their loved one to radiate beauty and charm. And you're neither beautiful nor charming. Why would anyone choose you?

With your eyes locked with your reflection, you realise that you don't just feel unattractive. You feel unlovable.

When you were sketching Jungkook and observing those little details, you weren't only observing his physical features but also how easily lovable he is. How easy it is to love him and how he won't ever have to struggle to find love.

His beauty was only making you feel small and inferior.

A drop of tear falling on your wrist makes you realise that you have been silently crying all this while. The realisation only makes you think how pathetic you are to be crying in the bathroom about how you look. You're ugly but also so uncool.

The worst part is that there's nothing that you can do about it. You'll have to live with this face for the rest of your life. And maybe, you'll struggle the entirety of your life to find love. That is if you even do.

A warm sensation on your finger catches your attention once more but this time when you look down, it isn't a teardrop but rather the ring. The same ring that your mother gifted you a few days ago.

You had worn it to class thinking that it looks pretty and matches quite well with your outfit.

But now that the area in contact with the ring starts getting warmer and warmer, your confusion keeps increasing along with it.

Although the warmth isn't uncomfortable, you remove the ring from your finger. The moment the tips of your fingers come in contact with the metal, you realise that the ring in itself is warm and is well above room temperature.

Your immediate instinct is to touch the other ring you are wearing but to your complete surprise, you find that the ring is cold. This observation only causes you to frown harder.

You turn the faucet on and place the ring under it. Once you deem that it's been enough time for the ring's temperature to drop, you turn the water off. You dry the ring by wiping the remaining water off with some tissue paper.

To your utter disbelief, the ring remains just as warm.

But how the fuck is that even possible?

This is a clear slap on the face to the laws of thermodynamics, that you spent so much time learning!

Could….could it actually be some sort of a magical ring?

You remember thinking about the ring last night and how you didn't even entertain the thought of this ring being magical even for a second. Those sorts of things only exist in fantasy worlds. You'd be incredibly stupid to ever consider the possibility of it being one. You had peacefully settled on the conclusion that your mom only played a prank on you.

But right now, you are doubting everything.

It's not just how stubbornly it remains warm but also how it got warm out of nowhere. You cannot explain any of these things using logic.

"Hmm but not just any ordinary ring. The one who puts this on you will start seeing you as their dream partner."

Your mother's words ring in your head.

Ordinary ring? You cannot yet say that it's not an ordinary ring. But unlike before, you find yourself unable to rule out that possibility. This only makes you want to know for sure, what the deal with the ring is.

But how do you put the ring to test? One possible way is to wait for the ring to get heated up again or do something that isn't natural. But who knows when that will be?

The other option available to you is, to check whether the ring does what your mom claims, it's supposed to do.

With your decision being made, you wear the ring back, wipe your tears and clean your face a little bit before heading out to find someone who can help you with your little experiment.

You'll deal with your emotions later (hopefully in the dorms), first you have got a ring that you need to figure out, about.

You have been thinking a lot.

You have been going through classes, blankly staring at the board while your mind remains somewhere else. On the ring, to be very specific. It hasn't been off your mind for a single moment.

Until now of course, as you find yourself in front of Jungkook's class once again. Why? Because you missed your art class and now you need to take a picture of his so that you can complete your sketch.

Although this isn't ideal, you think it's still better than having to be battling your thoughts in the middle of a classroom.

You have to wait for a few minutes until the bell rings. As students start coming out, your heartbeat increases and your hands start getting clammy. However, you aren't as nervous as you were before, because now your focus isn't solely on Jungkook. Somewhere at the back of your mind is the ring.

When you spot Jungkook, he's surrounded by a few of his friends. You clear your throat and put up a facade of confidence, before walking up to him. When he notices you, a confused frown appears on his face.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" You ask, with eyes as blank as they can be.

Jungkook nods and tells his friends that he will join them in a minute before turning back to you. "Wassup?"

"I could not attend today's class, I had to leave midway because I wasn't feeling well. But I need to complete the sketch so I will have to take a picture of yours." You say in a single breath, letting it all out. The longer you remain under Jungkook's gaze the more you find yourself willing to hide. For a moment, you forgot how powerful his gaze can be and how small it can make you feel. It would be fair to say that now the ring is pretty much out of your mind and all you're focused on is getting out of here as quickly as possible.

"Have you talked about it to your professor?" He shoots another question. He does not mean to sound judgemental but you look like someone who's highly cautious about their grades and who would do anything to maintain them. Who knows, maybe you are here asking him without actually referring it to your professor.

"Of course, I have," involuntarily, a scoff escapes your lips. For the first time, you feel a bit of anger towards the boy. How dare he think that you would be here asking him about it without consulting with your professor first? That would be highly immoral as that would be cheating and unfair to the other students. It's also about his tone of query, it did not sound like a genuine question. Rather one, where he seemed to have formed his own opinion beforehand.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at your offended stance and finds amusement in it. "Cool then, you can take a picture but what do I get in return?"

Your anger is replaced by surprise and mild panic. You don't have anything you could give to him in return. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'll tell you what, art girl, I'm currently in the mood for some tacos," Jungkook answers, giving you a hint of what exactly it is that he wants.

Realisation clicks and then your face falls. Shit, you'll have to spend more time with him in the name of bribing him. Your stomach churns at the thought and a new wave of anxiety rolls over you. How long are you going to manage to be in his presence without experiencing the same mental breakdown you did a few hours ago?

Unfortunately, if you have to complete your assignment, you will have to spend some more time with Jungkoo–

Jungkook!

The name loudly echoes in your mind.

Jeon Jungkook. He's the ideal man to put the ring on your finger.

Why?

Because he, never in his wildest dreams will consider you to be his dream woman. If after putting the ring on you, it somehow affects the way he views you, that will be no less than a miracle and proof that the ring indeed is magical.

Suddenly, you find yourself looking forward to treating him. A change in your body language which Jungkook notices.

"You know that's not me asking you on a date, right?" He asks with a clearly worried frown that you might mistake his words again.

Your heart shrinks at his comment. How lowly must he think of you? But you try to put that aside and give him a small smile. "Don't worry. I know."

It wasn't that difficult for both of you to find an empty classroom to click the picture in. You were once again overthinking and stressing about being alone with Jungkook but somehow the nonchalant way in which he removed his shirt, without a second thought, gave you enough courage to behave like a normal person. You're the only one who's stressing and making it out to be a big deal when everyone else is just doing fine.

You clicked your photo and now you're fulfilling your end of the deal aka bribing him aka paying for his tacos. While you're at it, it's only fair that you got a burger for yourself. You can't just sit there and watch him eat, things are already awkward enough for you.

As you and Jungkook chew on your food, he keeps swiping on his phone and you keep wondering what is the ideal way in which you can make him put the ring on you.

You can't just ask him to do it directly. You have already made a fool out of yourself before, you can't do that again.

But what other options do you have?

Jungkook feels your intense stare on the side of his face and sighs. Guess, he will have to make some conversation. It's rude to make you pay for the food and not even put some effort into making a conversation with you.

He locks his phone and puts it in his pocket. "So what exactly happened when you weren't feeling well? Like a headache? A stomach ache?"

His words snap you out of your train of thought and it takes a few moments to register his words. When they do, you can't help but notice the irony. The very person who caused your mental breakdown is asking about it, with zero clues about the impact his words and actions have had on you. But then he's not to be blamed, your mind reminds you. He only spoke the truth. Sooner or later, someone might have told you the very same thing and caused the bubble of your daydreams to pop.

"Nothing serious was just feeling heavily nauseous," you say with a shrug, wanting to keep your answer short so that you don't have to recall the events.

A small crease forms on his forehead. If you were feeling nauseous, what on earth are you doing eating a burger now? It's only been what, three hours since art class? You should not be eating junk food three hours from when you were feeling nauseous, it will make things worse. He knows it from his own experience and the memory of it causes him to wince.

Noticing that there's a look of displeasure on his face, you quickly attempt to divert the question elsewhere, in fear of what he might have to say.

"Where did you get that shirt from?" You blurt out but then smack yourself mentally at the absurdity of the question. Who the fuck asks where they got a plain white shirt from? They are available everywhere!

"This?" He asks as if making sure you're talking about the shirt he's wearing. When you nod, confirming he shrugs. "I might be wrong but I think it's from Target."

You look elsewhere in embarrassment when you reply out a hum. But it's when you're looking around that you notice a woman wiping her hands on a tissue paper. The sight causes an idea to pop into your head.

"But why are you asking where my shirt is from?"

"Nothing, the shirt just looks like it's made of good quality fibre." you chuckle awkwardly as your thumb fiddles with the ring and gradually loosens it enough so that it can come out easily.

Jungkook squints his eyes in suspicion as he leans forward to observe you. "This shirt could not be made of cheaper quality fibre."

"Hehe," you say (yes, you literally say hehe) with a wince. "That aside, can you help me put this ring on?"

You point to the golden ring that now lies on the table surface and then point to your greasy right hand, in an attempt to explain why you can't put it on yourself.

Jungkook, thankfully, doesn't think much of it. He picks the ring up with his left hand and wordlessly asks which finger you wear it on. You lift your ring finger to give your answer and moments later, he's gliding the ring on your finger.

When Jungkook looks up at you, he finds that his vision has turned blurry and the harder he tries to focus, the more a splitting headache appears on the right side of his brain. He puts his hands on his head in hopes that it would give him some comfort but it doesn't help at all.

Your brows furrow in concern when you see the uncomfortable look in his eyes. "Jungkook, are you okay?"

Your voice faintly reaches his ears but the words do not register and he definitely does not manage to respond.

"Jungkook?"

The voices start fading out and his eyes start getting droopy.

"Jungkook!"

That's the last thing he hears before he blanks out completely.

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[iaus]

⭐ actually I was gonna wait till I had a specific scene but I don’t have that restraint talk abt what ever u want. Don’t think I’m not coming back for a real scene dissection tho

the way i was like. the scene i want to go over for darling hasn't been published yet. who's gonna get that slacker. it's me. i'm the slacker.

anyway. you know what we're gonna do?

i'm gonna hurt my own feelings.

it's ruben time.

okay so. to preface this: i waffled over this scene for a long time. i knew that i wanted jace to have this weird chance encounter with someone. i entertained like. multiple characters.

the first iteration of the grocery scene was going to have jace running into yolanda and have him ponder if he actually felt guilt over what happened to her. and he was just going to kind of wander the store watching her from the corner of his eye with her never being aware of it. then the next version was him actually talking to her- her not being sure why he's being so cagey to kind of hammer home the idea of no one knows you were involved. no one cares. and further isolate jace. but then i didn't really like that idea. i thought it made yolanda too unaware which did not feel fair to her.

so then i thought. well. maybe one of the bad kids? (fun fact, the first draft originally had jace have a freakout that a van that passed him while he was walking home was gorgug's van. it didn't feel... appropriate for the tone.)

i entertained the thought of fig for a little bit. but that didn't seem right. i thought maybe even gorgug would be a potential interesting encounter since he has all these (rightfully) negative memories of porter which could have been interesting. to have jace kind of grapple with the fact that he is remembering porter so fondly, is yearning for him and then he's faced with a student that porter abused quite honestly. though. i think that might have been a much more upsetting scene because i straight up think epilogue jace would have been like. no. you deserved it. you deserved that push. you got what you wanted right? (which... i still have really complicated feelings on how gorgug's situation was handled in the season. but. i digress.)

but then. as i finally sat down to write the scene i realized.

there was a perfect character to fit into this. there's someone who was both there for everything that happened, who knows what jace did. but who also... in a sense wasn't. so the idea of ruben this kid who is shown at the end as sweet and soft-spoken who asks about his puka shells first thing... it fit AND here's another character who ankarna has resurrected! so.

first things first.

jace is 100% at a whole foods/trader joe's type situation but i could not for the life of me think of a fantasy name for it so i gave up immediately and moved on with my life. little details like this can hold up my writing process so much. but i need it known.

ANYWAY.

i wanna start out with this part:

He looks at Ruben out the corner of his eye—he’s a different person: His hair’s cut, back to its natural curl, and pushed out of his wide eyes; heavy makeup replaced by the tiniest hints of eyeliner and a clear coat of nail polish. He’s wearing floral print and cargo shorts. He doesn’t remember the last time Ruben called him anything but Jace—emphasized with a roll of his eyes and a teenage sneer that had always gotten on Jace’s last nerve.

appearances are huge and this definitely a ruben jace hasn't seen for a long time now. maybe since freshmen year. there's even a difference in how ruben speaks to jace. he calls him mr. stardiamond again. my elaborate headcanon for ruben and jace is that ruben was in jace's freshman common class and he like. attached himself to jace and jace has no idea how it happened.

he'd never admit it but he is somewhat touched by the fact that ruben (at one point) thought of him fondly. so this meeting catches jace off guard not only for the fact that ruben doesn't automatically scream and be like HEY HE'S EVIL but the fact that he is seeing a ruben he associates with as much younger. then we get into jace distancing himself immediately.

he doesn't call ruben by his first name he calls him mr. hopclap. and he is polite. he asks ruben how his summer is even though he's weirded out by the fact that ruben seems happy to see him.

and then ruben tells him:

“Weird,” Ruben’s voice pitches up with excitement, “you heard about all that stuff at the school, yeah?”

which for jace is such a red flag. he's still used to shatterstar ruben who's a little bit more of a shit so this puts him more on edge. we as readers already know about ruben's amnesia, about the fact that he's lost at least a year of his life. which i will cry about if i think too hard.

and we get:

“Well, I don’t remember it much—but my uncle said I was involved? That Mr. Cliffbreaker was?”

jace is finally getting a feel for the situation. that he has knowledge that ruben doesn't. it's not comforting because we then learn he is the reason ruben is here. he saw himself in ruben-- and since he saw himself he saw potential. and jace is absolutely shaken by this.

he thinks ankarna took his magic from him. who's to say she didn't take ruben's memories because it was too painful for him? (i personally see ruben's amnesia as a trauma response but... y'know.)

anyway they talk a bit. ruben is genuinely excited. he is remembering jace as this kind teacher who listened to him in freshman year. he's not assigning the inherent baggage that is now present because he doesn't know about. and... since he is seeing jace as an adult he can trust at this moment.... he opens up to jace when jace honestly isn't even seeing him.

“Mr. Stardiamond… I think I did something really, really bad.”

i think the absolute worst part of writing this scene is that it made me think of a few different kids from my site. i had some kids that really bonded with me and i sort of channeled my interactions with them into this scene.

jace talks about it sort of at a distance in this scene because he can't get too close. ruben reminds him of him. (probably from middle school.) and a part of him does bring ruben up as a candidate to porter because ruben is kind, he's timid. he needs validation. like jace. he is a prime candidate for manipulation... because jace was. so. here's another candidate for the plan.

jace. fails. ruben. before epilogue even starts.

and in this moment jace fails ruben again.

ruben is reaching out to a trusted adult and, in his own way, telling this adult who he has seen as a safe person before...

hey i think i fucked up. can you help me.

and how does jace respond? what advice does jace offer?

“Do you remember it?” Jace keeps his voice quiet. Ruben shakes his head. His eyes fill with tears. “No, but—” “Probably for the best, then.”

even before he tells ankarna take this chance at redemption and shove it. he's already rejected it.

by rejecting ruben.

[lieutenant-pride]

i kinda wanna rant about agatha all along

for better or for worse i looked in the general direction of an mcu property again and spoiler alert, it's mostly for the better

really i just wanna blurb about it and why i think it's a standout in the mcu catalog, and why i feel i'm enjoying it compared to all the other work i've seen in the mcu - and some work outside of it, to an extent!

(ACTUAL spoiler alert for under the blurb for guardians vol 3, multiverse of madness, wakanda forever, deadpool and wolverine, and - of course - agatha all along)

the preface: my history watching stuff with any attachment to the mcu involves quite a few of the mainline movies that were released leading up to avengers infinity war and endgame. back then, i had much less of a problem with the writing decisions made within the work because i really was just looking for popcorn films out of these - and to be fair, i can't take shots at others who want that now, either! some of my favorite films predating infinity war were thor ragnarok and black panther

after endgame, i kinda fell off the bandwagon and didn't really want to indulge many of the series actively from that point on, though i didn't really pinpoint why for a bit after that. i didn't engage with any of the tv shows in phase 4, aside from seeing clip shows of wandavision and what if here and there. what sort of helped shape why i was losing interest in the mcu and its style of writing - and works that ended up shaped by that style of writing inside and outside of disney's reach - was watching the four post-endgame films i had any passing interest to see: guardians vol. 3, multiverse of madness, deadpool and wolverine, and wakanda forever. each of these illustrated my issues with previous films clearer than before, in different ways.

Guardians Vol. 3 is a film that was heavily hindered by the past films' comedy chops hamstringing the serious character story for rocket raccoon. much as i wanted to invest in this heartfelt story they were putting together for him, it IS a guardians of the galaxy film, so how can it hold water if it's all serious all the time? it led to a tonal dissonance, especially with the usual irony sprinkled into that humour that you see in a lot of films within the mcu? much as it tried to bring me in, it still actively pushed me out

Multiverse of Madness has a worldbuilding issue in what it allows its villain to do and when: Wanda in this film - namely during her Dreamwalking moments - can just do straight up anything she wants, as long as it makes her a horror film level threat to the heroes. this, unfortunately, leads you to ask, with alarming frequency: "Okay, if she can do X, then why doesn't she do X again now, instead of Y?" this is also combined with the fact that the rules of her magic only get the slightest hint of boundaries during this film. sure, we can say it's the darkhold empowering her the whole time, but if this book allows her to do so much, why does she go through the catalog of spells and pick a new one with each situation, when some of those spells could work alarmingly well for her in later scenarios?

Deadpool and Wolverine was a lot of fun - in isolation. unfortunately, what it also did was paint in bright-ass colours what's a big problem with all the films actively a part of the MCU, by upping the dosage to 11: irony poisoning. this film wants nothing more than to look at old comics and pop culture and old flops and behind-the-scenes info about movies that fell flat, then turns to you and goes like "hey remember this thing? you like these fun jokes and characters? you like these memes? see how these things don't wanna be comics but we do?" it's a film that is very deeply tongue-in-cheek. and hey! that's fun, to some degree. it's just when you realize it's an SNL skit stretched out to feature film length that you kinda have to look at it - and other ryan reynolds work, after a bit - and kind of wonder if he wants to make anything new that's not busting open the fourth wall at every opportunity.

Wakanda Forever is the outlier here. where the others illustrate my frustrations, wakanda forever gave me a glimpse of something i wanted to see more of: a story that wanted to tell itself to you, that didn't want to hamper itself down with the same saturation of jokes that others in the MCU have. this was a film that wanted to put - front and center - a story about a brilliant and powerful woman grieving her paradoxical lack of power to save the ones she loves, and her struggles with grief as revenge begins to cloud her vision. the usual chops and attempts at levity are still there, but perhaps because there's less of them and they're timed better, there's more room for the real story to breathe, and for us to really focus on that struggle Shuri goes through. i finished watching this film and actually liked it quite a bit compared to the rest!

so yeah, by this point, i was much clearer on what i wasn't loving about the mcu: it's the damn irony poisoning and - as a friend of mine once put it - they're films that make all the actual fights about who "has the more powerful blue". the mcu films largely aren't willing to invest enough time in themselves to properly set up the stakes, and have those characters acknowledge them as they move forward, instead focused more on spectacle and quick quips.

now, that does make for fun popcorn movies, sure, but after getting a hypersaturation of that, i kind of wanted more from it? if i was getting a world of magic or sci-fi or superpowers, i wanted more than just a vague gesture at how powerful each of these things were, i wanted them to actually set up stakes and lay out clearly and consistently what made the villain a threat - and treat them like one consistently! and if the villain isn't the big issue, then i wanted to see what really was: the internal conflict was something i wanted more of, as well. i wanted characters that actually struggled with what choices they made or showed integrity in those choices, that held up their actions with conviction, instead of taking a lazy jab at it

agatha all along released, silently at first, mostly something i heard of because - on release - there was already buzz about billy kaplan being who teen HAD to be. i didn't watch it right away because i didn't care about the tv shows too actively before, so why do it now? and plus, what if it was just the same as the clip shows of wandavision i had seen? the best of it would just become clip shows on youtube eventually, right?

sometime later - had to be a little under two weeks ago, since it was just after episode 5's release - i got bored and said "you know what, how about i give this show a chance, after all?"

thank you, bored me, that was a pretty damn good decision

the first episode was a trip into the hexed mind of agatha, looking at the world through her vision as billy tries to break her out of it. it was a bit deceptive at first, but it was fun enough to keep me on board, even though i knew the tone had to shift considerably from there. the first couple of episodes did great at laying the groundwork for the series to come, and i wasn't as aware of it early on, but it was becoming clearer there was something different here

especially because each episode seemed to make it progressively harder to "just censor the queer bits" let's fuckin gooo!

but while one of my earlier grievances was more quietly alleviated, another seemed more loudly crushed by episode 5's climax. not necessarily the reveal that billy was billy all along, but the events leading up to it: there were characters in world moving on from a death that JUST HAPPENED - a murder, even! - and this leading up to billy's explosion and character reveal. this moment, where agatha celebrated her return of her powers even after killing one of her coven; where the two senior witches, while frustrated, seemed to shake off the death shockingly easily; and billy, the most junior of the bunch, has to deal with these people he thought he trusted just shaking off the death of someone he had made a friend of! there was actual character-led drama here! tension from characters acting accordingly led to a big shift in the dynamic and a character taking extreme action! i'm INVESTED???????

(the earlier grievance that was quietly handled was my worldbuilding and magic system issue, because this story wanted to genuinely believe in the magic it crafted and made sure, with each step, the rules it wanted to craft were followed. the funny thing is, by working mostly with characters that had little-to-no power as well as those who just couldn't control what they had, we were able to focus more on building the rules up through non-powered means and using the knowledge of the craft they practice first. i think we can also have a discussion on how maybe the balance of "exposition" vs "show don't tell" is a bit too tipped to the former's side, but i think that's something for another day, after the series finishes)

from there, episode 6 happens, and it just cements this show - in my mind - as probably my favourite mcu series. first of all, because if episode 4 didn't already do it, 6 made sure that there was just no room to censor out the gay bits, fuck yeah. secondly, it builds on the character we were already being introduced to quite well: using billy's past life as a source of internal drama was a natural choice, and it's done quite well, allowing you to invest deeper in what this kid's going through and why he's hunting so fervently for the witch's road, and what he expects to get out of it. even the final section where agatha interrogates his convictions (which by the way, definitely is where i'd start asking about exposition vs show don't tell) is great - not just for him, but for agatha, as we see HER convictions on display as well!

i kinda wanna wrap up my thoughts - and also episode 7's barely come out - so i won't touch on that one; just know that 7 is also peak, potentially even the best of the series to date

agatha all along was so deceptive to me because i was almost expecting just a general witch-y spinoff of what we got of her in wandavision, and what i saw of her made me think she'd just be another quippy villain that gets her own spinoff like loki (that series might be good too but i just don't like loki that much...?) what i got instead was a series focusing on agatha trying to get her powers back alongside a teenager with his own mysterious intentions - both seeking out a perilous option to get what they seek, alongside initially skeptical comrades who all get their own level of development as time goes on. what i got was a series that was invested in building upon the ideas of witches and magic that wandavision built some foundations on, delving deeper into the topics and showing us how other witches think and feel about their perception and struggles in the modern world. what i got was a disney series that didn't just say there was a gay character; it said there were many, and a few of them even make out on screen and have ex-lover drama! what i got was a series that took its world seriously, and a goddamned breath of fresh air out of the mcu!!!

so yeah agatha all along's pretty damn good, hope it keeps up the momentum in episode 8

[dwreader]

How do you go about figuring out what references the show is making (besides the ones they just say directly)??

Ohh ykw on this show I think they hit you over the head with so many both allusions and direct callouts that its almost more like trying to figure out which ones are true thematic references and which are just fun little namedrops. For example Daniel mentioning Kevin Durant imo is just a pop culture/worldbuilding namedrop to show that he's a ~cool guy~ from brooklyn and goes to basketball games (and to further establish these characters live in OUR world with the same celebrities). We're not meant to read Kevin Durant's bio on wikipedia and think of all the deep parallels. On the other hand, my pal blueiight has brought up that Basquiat paintings hanging around the penthouse could be read more deeply about the two men's biographies but maybe you don't necessarily HAVE to get the reference to understand the show. It's like an easter egg.

Also some references are simply bc modern tropes all stem from some origin and not the show deliberately making the connection, like yk the gothic romance tropes are abounding in this story and its not necessarily the show directly being like hey guys this is just like Jane Eyre! imma right? rather the conventions are so ingrained in our culture now that they bleed into everything. Or like my My Fair Lady posts it's like is this really a My Fair Lady specific thing or is it cause all professor/student or mentor/mentee romantic fiction all kind of stems from Pygmalion?? Anyways I'm gonna put the rest under a read more cause it's gonna be long af. sorry.

The ones I tend to take really seriously are books, plays, etc where the show goes out of its way to give you a bit of plot summary like Iolanta (blind princess who doesn't know she's a princess) where Louis crying at the opera kinda like Julia Roberts crying at La Traviata in Pretty Woman signals a thematic parallel between the characters (shoutout to slaygentford for that post that changed the world). Whereas they don't for Don Pasquale so while that's like a little funny joke cause its heheh its also about an old ass man looking for a wife that's like less serious to me than Iolanta. Louis casually reading Madame Bovary as his voiceover says he was "neglecting the duties of the role Claudia mocked me for the unhappy housewife" is a clear HELLO LOOK HERE moment, as well as Louis reading Edward Carpenter's book about marriage trying to regain his sight after his beating. Whereas I think him reading the Origin of Species is just like aww he's so cute and intellectual trying to find a scientific reason for his eating disorder.

A Doll's House is the biggest one imo cause it's both a direct callout in ep2 (Lestat mentions not wanting to miss the opening scene of Nora and the Christmas tree) and an allusion in ep7 (Louis shown decorating a Christmas tree), AND the "doll" theme runs throughout most of the show so even if you know nothing about that play, there's like hints being thrown at you with Louis bringing paper dolls to the twins bday party, decorating Claudia's room full of dolls and Lestat designing his Mardi Gras outfit like he's a doll. Maybe you've never read or heard Nora's monologue where she says all her life she's been treated like a doll and now she treats her children like dolls too cause she doesn't know anything else but you can literally SEE the dolls on the shelf in Claudia's room.

Streetcar is also the other one that the show is so so soooo obviously Leonardo Dicaprio pointing meme at itself. Even if you've never read the play or seen the movie, the image every fucking person on earth recognizes is Marlon Brando in a wifebeater cause that quite literally changed the course of pop culture history and male sex symbols AND you probably know STELLLAAAAA!!!!! These are both referenced quite directly by the show with Lestat wearing wifebeaters in ep5,6 and 7 and in Lestat's attempts to get Louis back after the DV as that's literally the context of STELLAAA he's screaming her name after he got kicked out for beating her btw if you even care. Plus they are riding an actual streetcar in ep7 even though they have a car??? and they're way too rich to be taking public transportation like what's that about.. unless!

Then you have things that Rolin has brought up himself in interviews like Bogie & Bacall (famously massive age gap hehe), John Cassavettes films (I would say Faces and A Woman Under the Influence as the primary sources of that comp), Francis Bacon art that you can definitely pick out from the show as well! So this show is chock full of cool references and inspirations and its very cool that people are being introduced to some of these older pieces of media through the show!!

[askthelambs]

ADMINS NOTE: Hey yall!! My name’s Ray (you can find me @raydfil here on tumblr), and i am really excited to be running my first ever ask-blog! i have legitimately no idea what i’m doing but i will try my best to answer every ask i get with a drawing and text! super excited to be doing this as i’ve seen so many of these spring up and its always so fun to get to interact with characters :0

This is set at a point of time pre-cyclone accident, but post legoland. Penny has just just joined the choir.

Will maybe have hints of perfectdolls as the timeline progresses

MEET THE LAMBS

☔️- hiya! im penny lamb! owo

🙈- And I am Ezra Lamb.

🙈- We’ve been seeing Penny’s friends making all of these “ask blogs”, and she decided to take it upon herself to make our own.

☔️- yes! to get to know us a little, i am penny, a junior at st cassians school, and this is my brother, ezra, who is in the seventh grade here at st cassians.

🙈- We have to go to school here as our parents were arrested for (the very legitimate) usage and cultivation of drugs.

☔️- ezra!! shush!!! >o<

🙈- But it’s true, You can even ask about what kinds they were selling and where we can get it.

☔️- EZRA. NO. THE PEOPLE VIEWING THIS BLOG CAN NOT ASK US ABOUT WHERE TO BUY OUR DRUGS T-T. this is a perfect chance to talk about what you CAN ask us about though!

YES: our day to day life, our thoughts and opinions on things, art, music, our opinions on classmates at school (You would love to have a chance to talk about your crushes, wouldn’t you? -🙈), any sort of things you can really think of to talk to about!

NO: NSFW TOPICS (acc is run by a minor ‼️‼️‼️), hate comments, political opinions, homophobic/bopigoted ideas

☔️- but asides from that, anything is fair game, really!

🙈- We look forward to making your acquaintance.

BYEEE

[cjsarchive]

First Date-Matthew x Reader

I looked at myself in the mirror one last time. I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face. Matthew and I were about to go on our first date! He had yet to tell me where we’re going, as he wanted to surprise me, but he told me to dress casual and comfortable since we would be gone most of the day.

I checked the time, 9:34am. I grabbed my things and went downstairs to see Matthew waiting by the door. As soon as he saw me, he gave me one of his infectious smiles, “Hey! You ready?”

I smiled, “Yep!”

“You look really c-cute by the way!” He said to me while blushing slightly.

I playfully ruffled his hair, “So do you, my love.” He blushed harder and I giggled. He was so cute.

We sat on the bus listening to music while sharing my earbuds. “You’re still not gonna tell me where we’re going?” I asked playfully.

“Nope! You’ll find out when we get there.” He gave me a silly face.

“Ugh, the wait is killing me! Tell me where we’re going, please?” I jokingly gave him puppy dog eyes. He covered his face with his hands.

“Don’t! You know I can’t resist you when you do that!” I laughed, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Soon enough, I saw the signs telling us that we’re on our way into fair parking. I gasped, “We’re going to the fair?!”

“Yep! You excited?” He asked with a hint of nervousness in his voice, “I wanted our first date to be something memorable so I thought ‘Why not the fair?’ It’s not too much, is it? I was worried it would be too big for a first date-” I answered him with a kiss on the lips. I pulled away and smiled at his blushing face.

“I’m so excited! I haven’t been to the fair in forever.”

“O-oh! Well great then!” He said with relief.

We arrived in the fair and I was nothing but smiles. There was something about the fair air that always makes me happy. Matthew stared at me lovingly before asking, “Sooo, what’s the plan?”

“Alright,” I clasped my hands together, “First, I say we do as many rides as possible, then we eat, then we play games for prizes. What do you think?”

Matthew thought for a moment before smiling and nodding, “Sounds like a plan! Wanna do the roller coasters first?”

“You know, I’ve actually never been on a roller coaster.” Matthew gave me a shocked look. “No way! Well we gotta change that!” Matthew grabbed my hand and we started heading towards the nearest roller coaster before he stopped and looked back at me, sudden worry in his eyes, “Unless there’s a reason you’ve never been on one. Are you afraid of them?”

I laughed slightly, “I gotta admit, I kinda am. But don’t worry, I want to try them!”

Matthew let out a sigh of relief and smiled, “Alright! Let’s go then!”

Matthew and I held hands as we walked. “Whatcha wanna do now?” Matthew asked me, gazing at me with a slightly tired smile. Its been a long and fun day. I looked at the sun about to set and then at the ferris wheel.

I pointed to it, “Let’s go and watch the sunset on the ferris wheel.” Matthew’s eyes followed my finger and smiled wide,

“Yeah! Let’s do it!”

We eventually got on the ferris wheel and waited for our descent to the top. I let out a sign on content as I looked at Matthew. He was looking out the window at the setting sun. I smiled, took his hand, and kissed it. He looked back at me, his face turning pink.

“Thank you for this day, Matthew.” I leaned my head on his shoulder.

“Heh, no problem.” He laid his head on top of mine.

Once we made it to the top, we stood up and looked out the window at the now set sun and the view of the city in the distance. “I love the view of the city at night,” I sighed happily, “It just brings comfort.”

Matthew chuckled, “Can’t fight ya there.” I turned to look at him, the lights of the scenery outside shining on his face made him look ethereal.

“You are so handsome.” I said bluntly. He blushed and looked down, flustered.

“Heheh, thank you!” He looked up at me, “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.” I felt my face heat up as I giggled.

“Thank you,” I found myself getting lost in his eyes, “This is the best first date ever.”

“R-really?” He laughed at himself, “I was so nervous for today, you have no idea,” He looked back at the view as he began to ramble, “I was worried something would go wrong like suuper long lines, or the heat being too much, or one of us eating too much or somethi-“ I gently grabbed his face and kissed him softly. He wrapped his arms around me and we melted into each other, “I talk too much, huh?” Matthew said softly as we pulled away.

“A bit,” I admitted. I rested my forehead on his,” You’re amazing, Matthew. I love you. So much.” A bright smile grew on his face.

“I love you too. Meeting you was one of the best things to ever happen to me. I’m so lucky to have you.” I leaned up and softly brought our lips back together. How did I get so lucky?

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

This was my first time writing in a while so sorry if it’s a bit cheesy😅. But I do wanna get back into writing regularly so if anyone has any requests, im open to them! I might be first date stories for the other boys as well:)