#I know I’ve talked about these storylines before
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
What's one episode of a favorite show where you think the character choices and/or plot were totally wrong? Why, and how would you fix (or change) it?
Oh, there are many. But I’ll give you two
In Blue Bloods, when Danny literally WALKED OUT ON HIS WIFE because she was doing her f***ing job, and the witness died. If Linda had let Danny talk to the patient, she’d lose her job, her license, she’d never be able to practice medicine again, and on top of that, she may be charged with accessory. Danny should have accepted it, and he never ever would have walked out on Linda. NEVER. It was drama for the sake of drama, and I hated it
In Hill Street Blues, when Henry cheated and later, when he suddenly became Macho. Cheating on Rachel is so out of character. I’d have him not do it simply. And then, in s4 when he was suddenly interested in the hooker. His character changed from a 1980s liberal man to a 1950s stuck-in-the-1800s type of man. It ruined his relationship, and therefore friendship, with Faye. I think him finding the sex work interesting is slightly out of character, but it could still work within the show if he didn’t act like a macho, possessive jerk towards Faye
#I know I’ve talked about these storylines before#but they seriously piss me off to no end#ask#Lisa💥#thank you for the ask!#thanks for asking!
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Me: *creates an OC*
Me: *heavily implies OC will meet a bad fate*
OC: *meets bad fate*
Me:
(Alternatively, I may have started it, but @katkastrofa enabled me and now I’m losing my mind)
#Kat and Nia and their multiverse of madness#first rule of interacting with Nia: don’t suggest a dark/whumpy/extremely angsty concept to them#they’ll take it and run a marathon with it and next thing you know their own ideas are making them cry#this is just what happens when I start developing an OC during a rough time in my life#happens every time. guess who came up with Summiya’s fall from grace after their college application fell through??#and since Summiya has a more or less completed storyline. it’s now someone else’s turn#namely Jia’s. also Sunat’s but. mostly Jia’s. Sunat is more angst than whump and I’m craving PAIN#I’ve been frothing at the mouth thinking about Jia all day#just.. imagine how terrified she must have been when she was brought before Jusamah. when he said that he’d make her talk one way or another#and if she doesn’t want to obey and confess willingly… something else can be arranged#how her fear got even worse when she was dragged into the palace dungeons. when she saw the whipping post#begging for mercy as she was stripped and tied. swearing on her life that she doesn’t know anything. that she’s innocent#rambling incoherently right up until the first hit lands. after that it’s just screams and sobs and barely audible ‘I don’t know’s#all the while she’s yelled at by a man three times her age who refuses to believe that she truly doesn’t know anything#and she doesn’t. all she did was point Aiza in a direction. she has no proof she even went in it#I don’t want to get to graphic here but let’s just say I read an article on whipping and it’s.. it’s bad#the aftermath is brutal and bloody and passing out from the pain would be a mercy#and afterwards… I do think someone is called to tend to her so she doesn’t bleed to death before they can get a confession out of her#and that person is kind. if a little detached emotionally. and likely her back could have been salvaged if the whipping didn’t repeat#but it did. because they need her to confess. maybe the excruciating pain of reopened wounds will get her to talk…#it doesn’t. she never says anything. and after a while they move on from torture to locking her up and starving her#maybe that’ll finally break her. perhaps she’s still whipped occasionally even afterwards but for the most part she’s just left alone-#in some dark cell and questioned occasionally. it lasts anywhere from weeks to months and yet she never gives out the one detail she knows#because Aiza’s safety depends on it and she knows Aiza’s punishment will be much worse than hers if she’s caught#but anyway. enough of the bloody horror show. instead think about what it must’ve been like for her parents#the town is alight with scandal following the disappearance of Lady Aiza. you know a bit about her since your daughter works for her#you don’t hear from your daughter for a while. eventually someone tells you that she’s been convicted of helping Lady Aiza run away#she’s been under interrogation since. no one’s seen her but rumour has it they’re torturing her. there’s little you can do as a poor family#you request an audience with Lord Jusamah. it takes a long time to to be granted but eventually you’re before him begging for your daughter#apparently she’s proven to be a useless waste of resources so she’s released to you. you barely recognise her. AND I REACHED TAG LIMIT FML
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
stardew valley players on reddit talk about shane like the most evil human being to ever exist and their proof is like He is an alcoholic and has footprints in his room. kill his ass
#obligatory ten million asterisks about how you don’t have to like him and there’s plenty of valid reasons not to and What The Fuck Ever man#but it weirds me out man#i’m not saying his storyline is light or anything but he’s written in a very palatable way for what he is#he just happens to exist next to characters who are more palatable by design#you also don’t ‘fix him’ any more than you’re fixing everyone else#he has the same god damn amount of heart events like i just don’t get it#dottxt#i know i’ve posted about this before but he’s like the only fucking thing anyone talks about over there#you would fucking hurl if you saw the characters i wanted to fix . Bitch
1 note
·
View note
Note
Can I request some hung with old man Logan? Something domestic or soemthing like reader baking for him. I love reading fics of Logan and reader being an old married couple
just the two of us | old man logan
an: anon ily for this request old man Logan needs more love <3 credit to pinterest for the gif btw this doesn’t follow the logan storyline so i added laura hope that’s ok!! sorry if there’s an spelling mistakes!
reader and logan live in a nice little cozy home because i said so 😍
“Taste.” You held the wooden spoon up to your husband’s mouth. Logan sighed, he knew you weren’t going to let him walk away without tasting the brownie batter so he licked the spoon.
For a while you had been craving brownies. While Logan was out working, you and Laura drove to the city to pick up the ingredients to make brownies. It was a fun small girls trip until it was time to come back home. Laura had helped you mix everything together until she got tired, she then decided to go up to her room to watch cartoons. You continued working on the brownies by yourself, that’s when Logan had arrived from work and now here you were giving him a taste test.
“So?” You waited for an answer.
“Bub, you are the best baker in this whole town, city, state, planet.” Logan was going to dip his finger in the batter until you slapped it away.
“No! You’re going to wait like the rest of us, but I did tell Laura she could have the first brownie so just wait.” You told him.
Logan groaned and walked to the kitchen sink and washed his hands. “How was your day?”
Logan always asked about you day. It didn’t matter if you stayed home and read a book or did some gardening, he wanted to know.
“Good. Laura and I read a new book, we went to buy ingredients to make brownies and now my old man is home so I’d say it’s been a pretty good day.” You started to pour the brownie batter into a pan.
He didn’t mind you calling him old man, in fact, he loved it. Yeah, he wasn’t as young as he used to be, but you still loved him. You did admit to him many times that the grey hair was a turn on for you, which made him laugh.
Before you could react, Logan quickly dipped his finger in the batter and licked it clean.
“James! Don’t you dare do it again!” You scolded him. “These are for Laura too.”
“Come on, Laura’s not going to know that I ate some batter,” Logan leaned on the counter next to you. “I’ve been thinking. .”
“Oh no, that’s concerning.” You teased, finishing up with the brownies and putting them in the oven. You turned to face him then wrap your arms around him, bring him closer to you.
Logan chuckled at your response. “I’ve been thinking about taking you and Laura to some place nice. We can do that family shit you always talk about.”
You laugh at his choice of words. “Family shit, yeah that’s what I said.”
“Tomorrow then, I’ll drive us to the nicest place you’ve ever seen, get some ice cream, watch a movie, whatever you want.” Logan leaned in closer, you doing the same.
Before your lips could touch, Laura interrupted you asking about the brownies.
“Not yet, my love, I just put them in. I’ll call you when they’re done,” You pulled away making Logan groan. Laura nodded then ran up to her room. You noticed the frown on his face so you quickly gave him his after work kiss. “Don’t be so sad, old man, the neighbor’s kid wants to have a sleepover with Laura this weekend so it’ll just be the two of us.” Logan definitely liked the sound of that.
Half an hour later, the brownies were ready. Laura took several with her to her room while you and Logan took a plate outside to the patio where your porch swing was. It was a beautiful evening, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, and now you were ending the night beside your husband eating some homemade brownies.
“I think Laura is going to ask you for a dog.” You mention, scooting closer to Logan and laying your head on his chest. You held a brownie up to him so he could take a bite.
“No, we are not getting a dog.” He said.
“It would be nice, you know . . .” You bit the brownie after Logan.
“Is this why you made brownies? You want me to get you and Laura a dog?” He looked down at you.
“No, but can you?”
He sighed defeatedly. “I’ll think about it.”
#marvel fluff#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#wolverine fluff#wolverine x reader#logan howlett oneshot#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett#wolverine fanfiction
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
punishment on the poker table
a/n: i've had this fantasy floating around in my brain ever since i came up with this au. damn it feels good to finally have it written out all sluttily as it deserves to be
summary: “well, well, well… what do we have here…” he slowly swept his broad thumb across your tender flesh as he gazed down at the discovery, “just a friend, huh? However, did you manage to lose your panties hanging out with your friend? Come on, I think we’d all love to know.”
warnings: camgirl!reader x various, pornstar!lee bodecker, pornstar!ari levinson, pornstar!lloyd hansen, pornstar!nick fowler, smut, porn au, college au, reader’s porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), filming pornography, reader has been in the porn industry for a while now (maybe a few months?), voyeurism, exhibitionism, gangbang, daddy kink (probably the only scenario where you can catch me playing around with this kink, because in most circumstances it's sadly not my cup of tea), classic porn step fantasy, impact play, pussy inspection, hair pulling, masturbation, fingering, pussyjob, oral, handjob, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, multiple orgasms, squirting, penetrative sex, anal, unprotected sex
word count: 2850
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au
masterlist | join my taglist
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/635bca824642dd78eaa7cc190726d797/8e7759e72143042e-2d/s540x810/4339e6f764e54e31979186889b6b684a2b1fbe0e.jpg)
“Hey beautiful,” you heard over your shoulder as you sat in the kitchen of the rented house you found yourself in, putting the last finishing touches on your makeup for today’s shoot.
Twisting around, you swiftly leapt from your seat as you recognised the figure leaning against the doorframe “Ari!” you threw your arms around his bulky form, “hi! How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” his broad palm ran down your spine before you retracted from the embrace, “how about you? I’ve heard you’ve been quite busy lately.”
“Yeah, I have,” a short giggle bubbled out of you, “but it’s been so much fun, though I’m still figuring out the balancing act between this, camming and school.”
As his feet then began to shuffle, your own shifted as well and carried you back out into the other room where crew members slipped around and prepped the space. With half of their attention directed at their work, their heads still twisted as they zigzagged between the rest of the stars for today’s fantasy, as the guys, lounging on the set, dragged their old friends into whatever they were chatting about.
“Oh, I didn’t know you’d all arrived,” each of their head twisted at the sound of your voice, “I thought Ari was the only one apart from me.”
“Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart,” Nick caught your palm as you neared the poker table they surrounded and pressed his lips to the back of it.
“Good to see you again, Nicky,” you chuckled as the warmth of his peck lingered on your skin.
“Oh, you guys have worked together before?” Ari sank down into the last of the chairs around the games table.
“Uhm, well, we have,” you gestured to the brunette who’d just kissed your hand, “a fun little POV shoot a month ago,” your gaze then drifted to Ari, “and we’ve of course worked together, I don’t think I’ll have to remind you of that,” you smiled before shifting your vision to the last two, “but, this is my first time with each of them,” you pointed between the two moustachioed men before grasping first the hand of the one to the left, “Lloyd,” a flutter flicked through your lower abdomen as you met the pornstar’s dazzling gaze, “hi.”
“Don’t get starstruck on me now,” he winked, “if you’re gonna cream your panties, wait till the camera’s rolling.”
Puffing out an airy laugh at his joke, “no promises,” you then shifted to catch the other man’s palm, “and Lee,” he slowly rose from his seat as he shook your hand, “or should I say daddy,” a small chuckle rumble in his chest as you warmed up to the title he’d get to adorn in today’s storyline, “wonderful to finally meet you.”
“You too,” he smiled, then added before he let go of your fingers, “I’ve been looking forward to finally working with you.”
“Really?” an amazed grin lit up your face as you blinked back at the seasoned professional.
“Oh yeah, just ask my agent. I’ve been quite literally begging for this to happen.”
“Have you ever shot a gangbang before?” Lloyd then asked.
“Uhm, no,” you shook your head, “first gangbang–, or well, on screen that is. Although I haven’t ever been with four guys at once before, so that’s new,” your glance flickered over each of their faces, “but I’m excited! I’m prepped and ready, this is gonna be fun.”
But before your face could heat up any further, the doors to the room burst open and in strolled, not only the head of the studio, Romanoff Productions, but also the visionary who had signed on to direct the shoot herself.
“Oh, great! You’re all here,” Natasha came to a stop right before you all, “then it won’t be long now,” she stated before landing her gaze on you, “Cherry, should we take a look at what you’re gonna wear?”
“Yeah,” you followed along as she then slipped back into her swift stride, “I brought a few options, some different plaid skirts, all depending on what colour you had in mind.”
The camera low in Natasha’s grasp shadowed your ass, shyly peeking out from under your short blue plaid skirt with every quiet step, as you sneaked down the hallway from the front door and into the dimly lit living room.
“Breaking curfew…” a deep voice then rumbled somewhere in the darkness.
Spinning around, you spotted the group of men surrounding the round table in the corner, “Lee! Oh my god,” faking a fright, you clasped a palm over your exposed chest, as your tight shirt wasn’t just sparsely buttoned, but also gathered up and tied around your waist.
“Lee?” Lloyd murmured and shifted the cards in his grasp, “is that what you call your stepfather?”
Sinking your teeth down into your bottom lip, you quietly uttered, “…daddy...”
“Good girl,” Lee nodded, though didn’t glance over his shoulder at you as he then dropped his cards to the table and sighed, “now, are you gonna tell me why you were out so late or should I just punish you without knowing the full reason? I’m fine either way,” his fingers gently played with a stack of poker chips beside him.
“Oh, I don’t know if that is necessary,” you swiftly shook your head and attempted to shuffle closer towards the staircase, “I'm only 45 minutes late–”
“Come here,” his command was low and clear as his glare finally locked upon your figure in the dark.
“What?” your fingers fiddled lightly with the hem of your skirt, fluttering just above where a pair of long socks stretched up to.
“Cherry, you can come here right now, or you can get out of my house.”
Though it was all just pretend, his low tone still sent a shiver down your spine, “you’re gonna kick me out? Just for staying out a little bit too late?”
“But that’s not all you were doing, was it?” he tilted his head before pushing his chair back a few inches from the poker table, “come on,” his palm came down to clap his thigh, “don’t act like this is the first time your bratty ass has needed to be taken over my knee.”
Glancing around to the others, “shouldn’t we go up to my room? You have company,” you added in a whisper.
“Oh, they don’t mind,” he stated, keeping his gaze locked upon you as he raised his voice, “do you boys?”
“Not in the slightest,” Nick smirked and leaned back in his seat, eyeing you just as brashly as the rest of them did.
Slowly, you closed the distance to stand beside Lee’s seated form, though before even offering you another glance, the older man seized your frame and tilted you over his lap.
With your bottom barely covered in your tiny schoolgirl skirt, a yelp slipped up from your lungs as Lee sent his hand down to land, not a light beginning tap across it, but a harsh smack that had you jumping in his lap.
“So, are you gonna come clean and tell us all what you have been up to, young lady?” he asked after you’d lost count of his generous spanks.
“I-I was just hanging out with a friend from school,” you squeaked and dug your fingers into his thigh.
Though as his palm came down upon your ass once again, the smack caused your flimsy skirt to flip up, just enough for him to catch sight of the secret it had been hiding.
“Well, well, well… what do we have here…” he slowly swept his broad thumb across your tender flesh as he gazed down at the discovery, “just a friend, huh? However, did you manage to lose your panties hanging out with your friend? Come on, I think we’d all love to know.”
But you kept your mouth shut as goosebumps pricked and covered your skin.
“Fine,” the word that left his lips was accompanied by a swift spank that soared across your bare bottom, “you don’t wanna talk? I’ll just have a look myself then,” he murmured before tilting closer, ever so slightly, and began to spread you apart.
“What are you–,” you peeked back at him over your shoulder, though your objection melted from your lips as his touch then swept through your glistening folds, “oh, f-fuck…”
“Doesn’t seem to me like you were just hanging out with a friend…” sticky strings of want created a web as Lee probed your puffy petals apart, letting him inspect your little hole, “…you know, I don’t ask much of you, but I do require you to obey my rules, and this?” his touch ghosted against your clit, making you swallow a moan, “this breaks nearly all of them.”
“I'm sorry, I just–”
“Sorry is not gonna cut it anymore! You’re gonna have to learn that there are consequences to your actions,” he growled before landing a swift slap against your glistening pussy, causing you to let out another cry.
As you tried to wiggle off his lap, the hand he’d had splayed across your lower back soared up to tangle itself in the hair at the base of your neck to keep you in place as he let his fingers sweep through your folds.
“You just need a bit tough love to learn the rules, that’s all…” he uttered over the sinful symphony of his persistent touch against your embarrassingly wet cunt.
“You’re a fucking pervert,” you grumbled through a heavy pant.
“You can call me whatever you want, I don’t fucking care,” his grip in your hair then tightened as he yanked you closer, your back having to arch to reach the angle he searched for, “you can either get what you deserve, or I can throw you out on your ass,” his breath fanned across your hot cheek as his lips nearly grazed it with every seething word he uttered, “it’s your choice.”
“…fine,” you finally replied through your gritted teeth before his grasp let go of your hair and sent you back down to stare at the floor.
Slowly, as Lee slipped a finger inside of you and gradually began to stretch you out, your eyes drifted shut and didn’t flutter back open till another one of his digits had eased inside of you and tickled out a quiet whimper, deep from within your soul. However, as you blinked your eyes back open, they fluttered up to discover the hard lengths that the others around the poker table had freed from their pants.
“Oh my god!” your eyes widened as you watched their fists slowly jerk up and down, leisurely stroking themselves as they stared at you, “Lee! Your friends, they’re–”
“Shh,” he kept up his touch as you began to quiver, “don’t mind them.”
By the time you were fighting the unbearable urge to cum, your body was flailing so fiercely that Lee had to clasp a forearm down around your waist in order to keep you over his lap. In the intoxicating fog you found yourself submerged in, someone caught your hand, and it wasn’t till moments later that it truly sank through your haze and you squinted over to discover Lloyd’s grasp engulfing your own, as he guided your touch over himself, his girth throbbing beneath your fingers. The vision alone was enough for you to throw in the towel and lose the battle to the high that then promptly washed over you.
Before your daze had a chance to fade, your frame was flipped back upright to briefly sit in Lee’s lap, and your reality was still so fuzzy that it took a moment for you to register when some of the others reached out to rip your shirt off, though the blue plaid that clung around your hips as well as the high socks, those were allowed to stay perfectly in place.
“You wanna fucking learn what happens to little sluts, huh?” Lee clutched your jaw in his grasp and growled against your cheek, “because that’s how you’re acting, so you might as well learn what it’s like to be treated as one.”
Flinging you around, he manhandled you onto the table, the others swiftly swiping away the cards and chip stacks out of the way before you landed in the middle.
“Since you’ve got no problem spreading your legs for your little friends, then mine shouldn’t be an issue either, should it now?”
“I–,” you panted, blinking up at Lee as he nudged your trembling thighs apart, “fuck…”
“What was that?” he smacked your sensitive cunt to conjure a clearer answer.
“Ah!” you let out a shriek, “no, daddy! Fine! Let them use me, what do I care!”
“Oh, you’ll care, babydoll…” Lloyd swiftly snatched up your right hand and brought it back to his cock, “must warn you, we aren’t as gentle as those little boys you hang out with.”
“But that’s alright, isn’t it?” Nick smirked as he seized your other hand and yanked it towards his own dick, “your cute little pussy deserves the punishment.”
Glancing between them all, you uttered, “you’re all sick.”
“Says the girl who just came,” Lloyd pointed out through a short chuckle.
“I did nothing wrong!” you continued, raising your voice, “everyone my age fools around! It’s not like I came home knocked up or anything–”
“Somebody shut her up,” Lee suddenly exhaled before Ari appeared above your head and swiftly stuffed his fat girth into your mouth, snuffing out the remainder of your sentence as it vibrated against his cock.
Your legs were then folded up till both Lloyd and Nick at your sides caught them and held your limbs in place, keeping you open for Lee as he fiddled with his fly.
Staring down at your pussy, Lee finally freed his cock and uttered, “now…” offering himself a gentle stroke as he took a step closer to you, “what are we gonna do to you…” he then tapped the heavy weight of his dick against your petals, making you squirm as sticky strings of desperation clung to his length, “maybe a little something here? Is that what you need in order to finally respect my rules?” he briefly flicked the bulbous head through your folds before his lips tilted into a sly smirk, “nah, I don’t think so… you need to be filled up somewhere that hasn’t already fucked tonight.”
And then, with the slickness now glistening up his cock, as well as the juices that had already leaked and dripped down, Lee began to split open your ass.
A cry promptly escaped you at the mind-numbing stretch, though as the sound vibrated against Ari’s girth, he only seized the opportunity and slid down even further till the staggering imprint of his size was bulging in your throat and his heavy sack was nuzzled up against your face.
“That’s it…” Lee groaned as he slowly filled you up, “that’s what you needed, isn’t it, kiddo?”
Though you had no clue who, a few of the men began to play with your tits, offering them playful smacks to make them jiggle hypnotically or even tug and pull on your pebbly nipples.
“Oh, would you look at that fucking cunt?” you heard Lloyd grunt as he watched closely at how your empty pussy was blowing euphoric bubbles, before you felt him reach down to grab your desperate core, pinching the puff a moment as they all marvelled in unison.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s enjoying her little lesson,” Ari chuckled as you choked on his cock.
“How could she not?” Nick reached down and slipped a finger inside your leaky hole, “you’re just a little whore for your stepdad and his friends, aren’t you?”
Sliding a digit in as well beside the other pornstar’s, Lloyd then murmured, “maybe instead of playing poker when we come over, we could all just play with you.”
Letting his cock slip out of your mouth, Ari craned down to touch you as well and began to bully your puffy clit, “yeah, you’d be a perfect little toy, wouldn’t you? Your daddy will teach you right how to treat us all.”
As Lee’s heavy sack smacked against your slick skin at his next deep thrust, you once again unravelled before them all, though this time in a rippling display that had your poor pussy gushing around the men’s fingers.
“Oh! That’s a good fucking girl!” Lee pulled his cock out of your ass before he joined in on the other’s torture, though didn’t stop till you were shaking violently beneath them and they couldn’t tickle forth anymore squirt from your overstimulated cunt, “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you, but just look,” he caught your eye, “you’re learning already.”
A smile found his features before he then, without warning, stuffed his girth into your pussy, beside the fingers that no one, not even himself, slipped out, but instead utilised the leverage to pry your clambering and sensitive pussy open for Lee’s fat girth.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/635bca824642dd78eaa7cc190726d797/8e7759e72143042e-2d/s540x810/4339e6f764e54e31979186889b6b684a2b1fbe0e.jpg)
© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#sugar and spice au#ari levinson smut#lloyd hansen smut#lee bodecker smut#nick fowler smut#chris evans smut#sebastian stan smut#bucky barnes smut#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x reader#bucky barnes x reader#stucky x reader#ari levinson x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#lee bodecker x reader#nick fowler x reader#bucky barnes au#steve rogers au#bucky barnes series
584 notes
·
View notes
Text
I shifted
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/98a6069eb4045c7ad1fe0f96a67ce61f/7d4096f8edaf3122-3f/s540x810/589821ede1546ba99c2bb1fbc0a7a7a2fe5a89ea.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a016b1d7a069d353509daea10ef030a4/7d4096f8edaf3122-2b/s540x810/208d6540c4cc839a715f74414d6a970df9b7d027.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f0ddd74228b1461563c1940ffeeeef13/7d4096f8edaf3122-30/s540x810/feac86a98e419b05e45a563c32d4ff8637e80fbe.jpg)
I shifted to my nana dr for about six months (even though only six seconds have passed here, since I set the time so that one month in the dr equals one second in this reality). I'm still a little confused from coming back, but overall, I feel good.
This dr isn’t my main one but could become my main one. Before I share some details, I want to clarify that this DR doesn't follow the anime’s storyline. For example, that asshole Takumi will never meet Hachi. I'll try to keep it brief, as I don't like talking too much about my dr after all, it is real life .
I live about 15 minutes away from Hachi and Nana’s apartment, in a suburb of Tokyo. I work at a bakery and also do art. Living in Tokyo between 1998 and 1999 is a mix of nostalgia and surreal. It's hard to describe precisely. I’ve also learned to live without modern smartphones, using those old brick phones with buttons instead. This has taught me to live more in the moment, without the constant need to check social media or waste hours scrolling through TikTok, aimlessly losing time.
In this dr, I’m learning to be more independent. Thanks also to my experiences in my Kpop drs, I've learned to manage an apartment on my own here: I do the laundry, cook, manage my budget, pay bills, and work in the bakery. Oh, and I'm also studying to get my driver's license.
I’ve also started learning to play the guitar, especially thanks to Nana. Playing has always been a huge dream of mine, but I never had the chance to do it in this reality. Once, I even got emotional with joy while holding the guitar in my hands, because it’s something I’ve always loved doing.
My relationship with Hachi and Nana is really great.
Hachi is very close to me; she often texts to ask how I’m doing, how work is going, and invites me to hang out on weekends or go to the pub together. I love going out with her because she’s unashamed of anything or anyone, and with her, I never feel judged. She also has a great sense of style. Even though colorful clothes aren’t really my thing, she’s helped me find a style that suits me. I must admit, though, that she requires a lot of patience since she’s a bit naive.
As for Nana Osaki, I really love her a lot. She’s given me so much advice on some of my personal concerns, and she’s the kind of person who could listen to you for hours. She shows her affection through sarcastic jokes. We share the same taste in music. It took a little while for her to fully trust me and start confiding in me, but I understand her, and our bond has grown over time.
I’m still getting to know Shin and Nobu. Shin is very reserved, but I feel like we’ll become great friends. Nobu, on the other hand, has already opened up, and we’ve quickly become close.
Next time I shift, I’ll come back with a suitcase full of Vivienne Westwood clothes, necklaces, and rings!
#affirm and persist#loablr#living in the end#loa tumblr#loassumption#manifest#self concept#subliminals#neville goddard#void state#shiftblr#reality shifter#shifting realities#reality shifting#shifting#shifting community#shifting to desired reality#shitpost#shiftbr
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Silence (Part Two)
Pairing: Azriel x Cassian’s twin!healer! reader
Summary: It’s your turn to find the silence deafening.
Warnings: Short section of spiciness, but definitely not smutty. Also, you can pry the angst from my cold, dead, hands. Give me all the angst. Also painfully inaccurate to the original storyline.
A/n: Sorry it took so long! I’m obsessed with making everything perfect. Enjoy! Let me know what you think and what else you want to see.
“I have one for you too, Y/N.”
You looked up from where you were leaning against the wall at the back of Rhys’s office. Everyone’s eyes were on you and you could have sworn that Azriel, who was leaning against the wall next to you, had stopped breathing all together.
“Me?” you asked, confused.
Rhys only nodded, holding the invitation out further in his outstretched hand. You shuffled your way forward, Mor and Amren stepping aside to give you space. When you finally reached his desk and gripped the letter, you gave it a swift tug, but Rhys didnt let go. The two of you stood there for a moment, hands attached to the letter in a quiet tug-of-war over his desk. You caught eyes with the High Lord. They seemed to say be careful before he finally released the envelope.
Worry hummed across the bond, mixing with yours and sitting in the pit of your stomach. Turning back toward your spot in the back of the room, you risked a quick glance up to Azriel and saw concern plain on his face.
“Watch your face,” you reminded him in his mind and he quickly returned to his stoic, unreadable expression. “Wouldn’t want to blow our secret over a silly invitation, would you?” You tried to keep the conversation light and carefree, but it was difficult when dread had crept into your mind. If Azriel felt your nervousness, he didn't acknowledge it.
“You know,” he replied, “I’ve been rethinking keeping this a secret. Don’t you think it’s time they knew?”
“But it’s so much fun sneaking around.”
You could feel Azriel’s metaphorical eye roll through the bond and suppressed a chuckle while you took your place back against the wall. “I just thought it would be nice after keeping it a secret for nearly 400 years. But we can talk about this later. Open the letter so I can read it, too.”
You did as he asked, slipping your finger under the delicate fold of the envelope and pulling at the wax seal until it released with a pop. Slipping the invitation nestled inside, you turned it around so as to read the looped cursive sprawled in fluorescent gold ink across the page. You felt Azriel shuffle closer to get a better opportunity to read over your shoulder.
Y/N,
It is with great pleasure that we request your presence at the Masquerade Ball hosted by her majesty, Queen Amarantha of Under the Mountain. Please kindly reply within a fortnight. Punctuality is of the utmost importance.
“I don’t like the look of this,” came the voice of your mate in your head.
***
“How do I look?”
Azriel’s eyes snapped up from the book he was reading and instantly dragged themselves across your body. A groan from deep in his chest vibrated through the room and you were hit with a wave of arousal across the bond.
“Down boy,” you teased, stepping toward the vanity at the corner of the room to touch up your makeup. You felt Azriel’s eyes glued to you as you moved. Your dress, dark and revealing, was something Rhys insisted you wore to the party. You were used to outfits like this, the fabric accentuating your full hips and showing off your years and years of hard training. It reached up over the curve of your breasts and plummeted, reaching nearly low enough to expose your belly button. The Night Court demanded respect from those outside the bubble that was Velaris, and your High Lord chose to express the Inner Circle’s blind confidence through dress.
“Gods, if I knew you were going to wear that I would have argued with Rhys more to let me accompany you two.”
You sat at the vanity and reapplied your lipstick. From over your bare left shoulder came a lone tendril of Azriel’s shadows. It snaked along the curve of your collarbone and circled around your neck a few times before settling itself snuggly around your throat like the most priceless of necklaces.
A shiver went through you as the shadow gave a gentle squeeze. “Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t insist on you and Cassian to join us. You’d have thought he would use this opportunity to show off the strength of the Night Court to the other courts.”
Quiet as his shadows himself, Azriel’s large fingers slowly replaced the wisp of temporary jewelry. It dissipated at its master’s touch, and his hand gently, but firmly, tilted your head back so as to give him better access to the pulse point currently beating wildly at your neck. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear and you let out a soft moan.
“I’d like to see you out of that dress,” he whispered against your skin.
Your throat bobbed as you swallowed hard at his words. A quick nip at your skin had you gasping out a response. “I can’t,” you managed. “Rhys will be here any second.”
Azriel trailed a rough calloused finger along the membrane of your wing and you felt a flush of desire and pleasure run through your body. The need for him flowed through your veins and it seeped deep into your bones. He could tell your willpower was faltering. Every emotion and neediness that you felt was pouring through the bond into his own soul.
“So tell him you’re not ready yet. I won’t take long.” Another nip at your skin, this time at the cleavage of your breast, had you nearly giving in. Your eyes fluttered closed and your chest heaved as he peppered kisses along your neck. But before you could utter another word, there was a knock at the door.
“Y/N?” came the voice of your High Lord. “Are you ready?”
Knowing neither of you could actually delay your departure, you sprung apart. Jumping up so quickly, you felt your chair tipping backward, only to be caught by one of Azriel’s shadows.
“One minute!” You called through the door and turned back to your mate.
“You have to go,” you whispered in a rush, quickly grabbing your bag from the bed and your shoes from their place beside the closet. “You’re not supposed to be in here!”
In your frantic dash across the room to retrieve your items, Azriel gripped your shoulders, halting you. His lips crashed into yours, passionate, hungry, and hurried. It left you breathless and you gasped for air as he pulled back, traces of your lipstick staining his own lips.
“Later, Shadowsinger,” you whispered as you reached up on tiptoe to place your lips against his again, more gently this time.
“I’ll meet you at the exit to say goodbye with the others,” he said into your mind and, stepping into a swirl of mist and shadow, he was gone.
***
“Az, the Autumn brothers are here.” Across the bond, you felt Azriel perk up. He must have been focused on something, perhaps reading a report or reviewing paperwork for his next mission. But at the sound of your voice in his head, you could feel his attention shifting to your gossip.
“Did they dress up?” he asked. “Please tell me Eris came as something ridiculous. Like a chicken or something.”
“Gods, no.” You suppressed a smile and glanced over at the heir to Autumn Court. The only costume he wore was his flaming red hair and permanent scowl on his face.
“Actually,” you continued across the bond, “It looks like Rhys and I aren’t the only ones who refused to dress up. In fact, the only ones who have costumes are the Spring Court.”
Amarantha was saying something, servants coming around to pass out wine in goblets that rivaled the finery of Rhy’s own private collection. You took one without thinking but hesitated before taking a sip. You recalled the words toast and finest wine coming from your hosts lips at some point. When your High Lord, who hadn’t left your side all night, didn’t drink from his yet, you followed his lead.
You barely paid attention all night, anyway. One arm constantly linked into your High Lord’s, you had to play the part of the mysterious, ruthless, second-in-command of the Night Court. Not many outside of Velaris knew much about you, except that you were an exceptional healer and twin the Night Court General. You played the role Rhys had expected you to, and Gods, did you play it well. Not a male in the room could take their eyes off of you, with your long flowing hair, curvy, yet muscular, body, and strong, unclipped Illyrian wings.
But frequently, you found your thoughts drifting back to your mate and the strong fingers you had wrapped around your throat a few hours ago. You hoped they would find their home there again upon your return to The House of Wind later tonight.
A wave of arousal hit you that wasn’t entirely your own and you realized Azriel must be having the same thoughts.
“Having fun without me, Shadowsinger?”
“Just remembering you in that dress,” came Azriel’s voice, low and sultry. “And all the ways I could take it off of you later.” You nearly choked on the breath you took. Rhys cast you a look out of the side of his eye, but you ignored it because Azriel was still speaking.
“Or maybe you can leave the dress on. It doesn’t offer much coverage, anyway.” His voice was growing darker, deeper, and more sensual with every word. “Or maybe the heels. Just the heels.”
You shook your head to clear it, attempting to focus on whatever Amarantha was saying in her toast. Wealth… happiness… friendship… blah blah blah. You ignored her sentences, picking up only on a few words. You did manage to make out her command to drink! before you caught eyes with Rhys. They portrayed something you couldn’t quite read. Sadness? Regret? You must have missed a part of her speech that was important.
Deciding to ask him about it later, you took a swig of your glass along with all the others in the chamber. The wine was sweet, thick like honey, and coated your throat on its way down. In fact, you felt it coating your entire body like a warm blanket. It worked its way into your bones and after a few moments of warmth, you felt the feeling turn to ice.
Icy tendrils shot through your limbs and you ruffled your wings to try and dispel the feeling. But it only became stronger and stronger until finally you felt a deep, soul crushing, emptiness. Quick as it began, the feeling was gone, and with it, the hum of the bond in your chest.
“Azriel?” you called to him. But no response came. Panic seized you and you clutched at your chest with your free hand, your other wrapping tighter around the arm of your High Lord. He was turning toward you now, saying something, but you ignored him. In fact, the entire chamber had erupted into chaos. Voices were all around you, angry and yelling. But the one voice you called for again and longed to hear was silent.
You didn’t know what it felt like to have a bond that was closed. You only knew that this was far, far worse.
“Y/N.” The sound of your name jolted you from your panicked soul searching. You looked up, catching eyes with the High Lord.
“Azriel,” you whispered out loud to him.
“What?” He asked, hands on either one of your shoulders, steadying you.
“Azriel,” you repeated to him. “He’s my mate.” The truth came tumbling out of you. The secret the two of you had kept for 400 years suddenly seemed foolish.
Rhys shook his head, not understanding your words. “Your mate?” He asked, confused. “For how long? Does he know?”
You nodded, tears suddenly filling your eyes. You pushed against the golden thread that tethered the two of you together, but it only ended in darkness. “We’ve been mates for nearly 400 years. We’ve kept it a secret for… oh Gods, Rhys, what has she done?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but quickly snapped it closed. He looked over your shoulder and you whirled, finding Amarantha standing there.
“Oh, my dears,” she began, her voice scraping across your ears like nails against stone. “The two of you are just lovely, aren’t you?”
#azriel#azriel angst#azriel fluff#azriel shadowsinger#azriel smut#azriel x reader#acotar#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#pro azriel
479 notes
·
View notes
Text
in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!
and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.
we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??
let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.
P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)
559 notes
·
View notes
Text
Written in the Stars
Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 1
Word Count- 4.3k
Warnings- Swearing, blood, death, panic attacks, mentions of the confederacy (ew)
A/N- This will be a slow-burn series.
The reader has a brother, I know it’s not very X Reader, but it’s to help the storyline.
I brush down the black tie my younger brother is wearing, the satin fabric making me slightly cringe.
“Are you sure you’re not going to go? We can go show those stuffy old bitches how to really party.”
I let out a small huff at Theo’s question, shaking my head amused.
“I’d rather not spend my Friday night with a bunch of Mystic Falls’ elite. Hearing them talk about how they’re so proud of their southern heritage,” Both my brother and I let out sounds of disgust, “the Confederates lost get over it.”
Theo stands in front of the hallway mirror and oggles himself. Where I am rather introverted, my younger brother is most likely the most self-confident person I have ever met. He has called himself, “A gift to the human race,” on more than one occasion. So it takes him about a good 9 minutes to gaze at himself in the mirror before we walk out the front door to the car.
We drive in silence, or I drive in silence as Theo hypes himself up in the passenger side mirror.
After a 10-minute drive that seems to have taken at least twice that time, we finally reach the long driveway of the mayor’s house.
“Why are you even going to this masquerade thing anyways, you hate dances,” I ask him as we wait behind a line of cars.
“Tyler is my football captain, and this thing is to honor his father, I’m here for my fellow man,” Theo presses a fist to his chest and puts on a fake sympathetic look.
“So you’re actually doing it because you want to get on Tyler’s good side so he puts you on Varsity?”
Theo’s look drops and is replaced with a shit-eating grin, “You know me so well.”
As we get to the front of the line of cars, I hum along to the Coldplay song playing on the radio.
“So what are you going to do while waiting for me?”
I pull my car up to the front of the “house” which is really just a mansion.
“I have a feeling you won’t be here very long, or stay out of trouble so I’m just going to park somewhere and wait for you.”
My brother gives me a look that looks like he agrees about him getting into trouble and nods his head. I put the car in park and Theo unbuckles his seat and gets out, straightening out his suit as he goes.
“Bye nerd, don’t wait up!” Theo yells as he climbs the stairs walking past Mystic Falls’ elite. I let out a sigh and pull away to find a parking spot.
—
My fingers graze the pages of my book as I glance at the time, Theo has been here for over an hour now and hasn’t shown any signs of leaving. I bring my book up to continue reading when a figure in the distance catches my eye. I lean forward and catch a glimpse of who I believe to be, Elena Gilbert. Elena’s a popular girl in my grade, who I’ve probably had two interactions with in my short time here in Mystic Falls. I don’t know much about her other than that she’s dating some guy named Stefan, her parents died in a car accident and her brother is in the same grade as Theo. Theo and Elena’s brother don’t hang out either because Theo says he’s a “stoner emo.” Theo’s never been one to keep his thoughts to himself.
Elena seems to walk with a slight limp which makes me slightly concerned but nothing to make me go out and try to talk to her. I hate talking to people in general, especially kids my age. Elena has always seemed nice but I’m not taking the risk of rejection.
Or at least I wasn’t until I saw a man in a mask start following behind her.
I may hate interacting with people but I would never let another girl get attacked if I had the power to stop it. The next thing I know I’m hopping out of my car and jogging behind them.
“Elena behind you!” I yell to her, but I freeze as the man hits her and knocks her to the ground. I let out a yelp as I turned to try to get help but a sharp pain hits my skull and everything goes black.
—-
“Y/N, can you hear me?”
A voice comes from above me and a wave of nausea washes over me. My eyes open and close a dozen times trying to get used to the bright light before I can focus on the person in front of me. Elena Gilbert. Why is Elena Gilbert in my bedroom? I mean she’s really pretty and all I just thought she had a boyfriend. I’m not a homewrecker.
“Oh thank god you’re awake!”
Elena whisper-yells to me as she brushes a piece of my hair behind my head and grimaces when she looks at my forehead. She brings her hand back and a wave of fear and disgust washes over me as I see her hand covered in a red liquid. Blood. My blood. I try to bring my hand up but Elena stops me.
“Don’t exert yourself we don’t want it to bleed more, okay?”
She gives me a small smile but something about it makes me feel uneasy. I don’t understand why until I turn my gaze away from her and look at our surroundings. Dirt-covered walls, glass-covered floors, and a mildew stench are what take focus. I’ve always been sensitive to smells but with the addition of my raging migraine, I am fighting the urge to keep down the rising bile in my throat.
My breathing starts to quicken and I can feel the start of a panic attack starting to make an appearance.
“Elena, where are we?”
I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t understand what I was saying since my words seemed to be jumbling together.
Elena glances around us and gives me a solemn look.
“I don’t know, I woke up here a little while ago before I was knocked back out by the people that took us. I’m truly sorry about this Y/N. I would never wish for you to be a part of this.”
I furrow my eyebrows at her last comment as if she were responsible for the reason we were taken.
“It’s not your fault,” I shake my head and start tapping my fingers together one by one, a habit I’ve picked up to ground myself whenever my anxiety gets too strong.
Elena’s eyebrows mirror mine and she goes to say something but a young man with shaggy hair walks in.
“Oh goody, the other ones awake. How are you doing, sleeping beauty?”
The man starts to walk over to me with a look in his eyes that makes the bile in my throat inch even closer to the surface. But within another second Elena stands from beside me, on what I can see now is a couch, and blocks me from the man’s view.
“I’m the one you want, Y/N is innocent, just let her go.”
I want to back Elena up and defend her too but with the migraine and the onslaught of emotions I’m feeling right now, being verbal isn’t something I see happening in my current future.
“You’re right, Dopalicious, she’s not, but I can’t just let her go, what if she were to go and warn those friends of yours? Can’t let that happen now can we?”
Elena goes to stand her ground but within a blink of an eye she’s shoved backward and lands on the other side of the couch. I flinch at the action which gives the man the opportunity to come in front of me. I start trembling as I look up to him. I try to push farther back into the couch but I’m squished into it as far as I can go.
“Stay away from me,” Finally able to find somewhat of my voice again. This doesn’t seem to scare away the man, and honestly, I don’t blame him. My voice sounded like it came from a scared 5-year-old.
“Just a taste, I’m starving.”
My mouth opens to question what he says but a millisecond later I feel myself being grabbed and a sharp piercing attacks the left side of my neck. I’m hyperventilating and screaming at the same time somehow as I hear Elena’s yells from beside us.
“Don’t touch her!”
Elena’s yell comes from beside us and I’m thrown away back onto the couch. I’m disorientated as I look up to see the man before me rubbing his cheek and Elena standing next to him holding her right hand. She’d punched him. My vision strays from Elena’s red knuckles back up to the man, who has something dripping from his mouth. My chest feels like it locks up as I stare at the liquid dripping, everything seems to be going in slow motion for me as I watch the drops start at the man's chapped lips to the drops of blood falling onto the cracked hardwood floors. Wait, blood. He has blood dripping from his mouth. Had Elena punched him that hard? I start to believe that possibility until I feel a wetness drip between my chest.
My already shaking hand moves to my chest as I swipe a finger along the liquid. My vision blurs as the red liquid drips from my fingertip down into the palm of my hand. I can’t register Elena’s voice as she kneels in front of me and presses something to my neck. The blood coating my hand is all I can see and smell.
“Y/N….Y/N! Just focus on my voice ok, breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.”
A cool hand is pressed onto the side of my face and I close my eyes at the embrace.
“Ok that’s good, I’m going to stand you up to get a better look at your neck ok?”
I feel like I’m running on auto-pilot or something else is controlling my body and mind as I stand up and grip Elena’s upper arms to keep myself steady. Elena returns the pink fabric from my neck and leans down to glance at the wound.
“Ok, it’s not as bad as I had originally thought. Just keep this here and it’ll help control the bleeding.”
I must still be in shock because Elena has to bring the shirt to my hand, wrap my fingers around it, and finally press my hand into my neck. The shock of pain washes through me and brings me back to reality. My vision can’t seem to focus on one thing for too long as my eyes keep darting from the blood on the floor, my blood, to the look on Elena’s face, to the man standing behind us with a scowl on his ugly face. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. This sequence continues until another person enters the room, a woman.
“He’s here.”
The woman with a pixie cut says, her voice seemingly scared.
The man next to us shifts his scowl into a look of pure fear.
“This was a mistake,” He rushes over to the woman and shakes his head.
“No, I told you I would get us out of this. You have to trust me,” She tries to talk him down which only seems to freak him out more.
“No! He wants me dead Rose,”
The woman points at Elena, “He wants her more.”
I glance to Elena who is standing in front of me slightly as if to hide me from the two strangers or cannibals. Since I’ve calmed down momentarily and I’ve begun to stop the tears, that unbeknownst to me, had fallen on my cheeks. I’ve also realized that I’ve been kidnapped by cannibals, that being the only reasonable explanation I can come up with.
The two cannibals start arguing about some man but I turn to Elena who looks almost as scared as I feel.
“What’s going on Elena, who’s coming,” I whisper to her.
Elena turns her head slightly to me and gives me a frown and a shake of her head.
“A man named Elijah, but don’t worry ok,” Elena grabs my free hand and holds it in her own, “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore.”
I nod trying to find comfort in her words but the girl in front of me is 17 years old and maybe 110 pounds I don’t see how she’s going to protect us both from two cannibals and whatever mega cannibal these two are terrified of. I don’t know if the other guy is a cannibal but using context clues I’m guessing he is.
“What are we?”
The woman’s voice brings my attention back to them as I see her grab his arms. This seems to calm the man down.
“We’re family. Forever.”
I might’ve found this endearing if it weren’t for the fact the man had my blood drying on his upper lip and they were literal cannibals.
A loud knock startles all four of us. Elena and I both shoot each other wary glances, our hands still intertwined. I don’t usually like being touched but given the circumstances I can let this slide.
The woman looks over at Elena and me as Elena slightly turns her head, “You’re scared.”
The woman says something else to her friend and then runs up the stairs.
—
What seems like forever of waiting and pacing around is broken up by footsteps coming from the top of the banister. I can feel Elena freeze up from beside me as we both look up to see a man in a suit staring down at her. The man has dark hair and eyes and a chiseled face.
Why is this cannibal not ugly? Wrong Turn had it all wrong.
We all stand there watching Elena and the suited cannibal stare at each other. I can feel Elena’s shaking hand in my own and try to comfort her by squeezing her hand to let her know I’m right beside her. That is until the man transports himself from the top of the banister to right in front of Elena in the blink of an eye. The movement makes me lose my balance and I fall back onto the couch.
No one seems to notice me as my panic attack starts to build up as I try to understand how this is possible. How could he have been that fast, it’s impossible.
Oh god, I'm going to throw up.
“And who is this?”
A deep voice comes from above me and my stomach flips at the sound.
Definitely going to throw up.
“She’s no one. She has nothing to do with this, just please leave her alone.”
Hearing Elena’s voice makes me raise my head and I regret it instantly because I lock eyes with the suited monster, who is now standing above me staring down at me. The man’s face instantly goes slack as his eyes meet mine, a look of recognition seems to pass through his dark eyes as they move fast across my face. The man’s mouth opens and closes many times as if he can’t quite find the right words to say. The slack expression from before softens into something that makes my stomach flip again. This guy is so going to kill me when I throw up on his expensive ass shoes. His soft, dark pink lips curve up at the corners slightly.
“You’re real.”
Everyone else in the room seems to know just as much as me with what he’s talking about because they all have looks of confusion on their faces. Feels somewhat comforting to be on the same page as everyone else for once.
The man doesn’t once take his eyes off of me this entire time, “What is your name, Elskan?”
I freeze under his stare and try to avert my eyes, this gives Elena the ability to step in for me.
“Her name is Y/N,” I look to the man as he mouths my name slightly to himself as if he wants to know how it sounds on his tongue, “Please don’t hurt her Elijah, she doesn’t even know about the supernatural, I’ll go with you willingly.”
Elena’s words make me freeze up. What does she mean by supernatural?
I flinch as the man, Elijah, brings his hand up. This stops him for a moment.
“I would never harm you. You have my word on that.”
I can only sit there frozen as he cups my face with his hand and uses his thumb to brush a stray tear away that must’ve fallen during one of my many panic attacks. He seems delighted at the moment until the soft expression he has on his face darkens into something that makes that bile rise even farther up. His eyes dart from the top of my head and drag themselves down to my chest and neck. I try to move away but his hand has a soft but firm hold on my face.
“Who did this to you?”
My eyebrows furrow at his question, and I must’ve not answered quickly enough because he turns to glare at Elena, making her flinch.
“The head injury is from the kidnapping and then the bite is from… um,” she glances towards my neck and then to Trevor who looks like he’s about to internally combust. She goes silent again at Elijah’s stare and he turns his attention back towards me. The glare long gone and replaced once again with a softer look.
“I see. Here,” I have to swallow back down the bile as I watch the man rip into his wrist and put it in front of my face expectantly. I sit there in horror and quickly look to Elena, who doesn’t look as nearly surprised as she definitely should be, given that this man just BIT HIMSELF.
“It’s true Y/N, it’ll heal you.”
I open my mouth to say something which must’ve somehow been an ok to the man as he presses his wrist to my open mouth. I’m about to push him off, or at least try, but stop at the heavenly liquid that spills into my mouth. Elijah brings his other hand up to brush back my fallen hair.
“Good girl, Elskan.”
Elijah removes his wrist and I sit there silently staring at my lap as I realize what I had just done. I just drank fucking blood, and I liked it?!??! Oh god, does this make me a cannibal now?
Elijah seems to be fighting an inner battle as he moves his eyes away from mine and onto the man behind us. Elena and I watch before us as Elijah approaches the scared man/cannibal thing.
“I’ve waited so long for this day, Elijah. Truly very sorry,” Trevor says with a bowed head as Elijah circles him. Almost how a predator circles its prey.
“Well, no, your apology is not necessary,” Elijah responds but something in his tone doesn’t sit right with me.
“Yes, yes it is. You trusted me with Katerina. And I failed you.”
“Well, yes, you are the guilty one,” Elijah glances at him and then up to the woman, “And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you. That I honor…”
Elijah comes to stand in front of the man, “Where was your loyalty?”
“I beg your forgiveness.”
The oxygen in the room seems to be dwindling as everyone watches the interaction.
“So granted.”
The deep breath I was to let out is replaced by a scream and I can only watch in horror as Elijah throws his hand over to the man, decapitating him. A heart-wrenching wail comes from Rose and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from the body-less head that is lying in front of me.
“I’m going to-”
Vomit spurts from my mouth and onto the floor in front of me. Burning from the back of my throat causes tears to build up and block my vision. I feel someone lift my hair and hold it away from my face. I thought it was Elena, until Elijah’s voice sounds from beside me.
“I’m truly sorry, Elskan. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.”
I lift my head to stare at him and find him kneeling right next to me. He reaches into his front pocket grabs, a fancy napkin, and wipes my mouth with it. Not seeming disgusted, just disheartened. He wraps his hand in mine and stands me up.
“We can leave now, we have quite the journey ahead of us,” Elijah leads me over to where Elena is standing and motions for her to follow.
“No! What about the moonstone,” She questions him.
He stands in front of her with a small scowl, “What do you know about the moonstone?”
“I know that you need it. And I know where it is. I can help you get it”
Elijah nods his head, “Tell me where it is.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
Elijah’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he glances back at Rose, “Are you negotiating with me?”
Rose just shakes her head and tells him she doesn’t know anything. Elijah then turns back around to stare at Elena for a moment before scowling and reaching up to her necklace, then rips it off.
“What is this vervain doing around your neck,” He throws the necklace behind him and grabs Elena by the neck, dropping my hand in the process. I go to try to get her away but Elijah shoots me a warning look that has me freezing in place, “Tell me where the moonstone is.”
In a monotone voice, Elena replies, “In the tomb underneath the church ruins.”
“What is it doing there?”
“It’s with Kathrine.”
The rest of their interaction is cut short when a glass shatters from somewhere upstairs. Elijah comes over to me and grabs me by my waist bringing me into him almost protectively.
“What was that,” He asks Rose.
“I don’t know.”
“Who else is in this house?’’
To which he gets the same response.
Elijah grabs Elena quite harshly with his free hand and guides both of us to the top of the banister. His hand never moving from the top of my hip. Once we make it to the entryway something rushes by us, Elijah pushes Elena off into Rose’s arms but still keeps his hold on me.
“Up here.”
“Down Here.”
Voices call from the top and bottom of the stairs catching all of our attention. Elijah lifts his hand from my hip and motions for me to go over to Rose.
“Don’t let her out of your sight,” He warns her as he moves to the staircase.
A moment goes by before something flies through the air and pierces itself through Elijah’s hand. I let out a yelp but Elijah doesn’t even seem fazed.
My vision is blurred for a moment, when it clears, I realize I’m now standing next to Rose with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in front of us. He motions with his finger to be quiet. Ya as if I was going to say anything anyway.
“Excuse me,” Elijah’s voice comes from below, “To whom it may concern. You’re making a grave mistake if you think that you can beat me. And you can’t. You hear that? I repeat, you cannot beat me. So I want the girls on the count of three, or heads will roll.”
The man who has his hands on Rose’s and I’s mouths moves his head to glance at Elijah downstairs.
“Do we understand each other?”
“I’ll come with you,” I perk up at Elena’s voice. What the hell is she doing?!? But the blue-eyed man in front of me shakes his head at me telling me not to move.
“Just please don’t hurt my friends. They just wanted to help me out.”
“What game are you playing with me? Where is Y/N? I won’t be leaving without her.”
Elijah’s skeptical voice questions her. There’s a sound of metal, and then a loud boom, and then I hear Elijah let out a yell. The sound for some reason makes my chest feel like it wants to cave in on itself. Rustling and fighting sounds come from below us before the man holding Rose and I leaves. Rose runs after him, but I can’t seem to get my feet to work so I just sit there on the dusty floor staring at the peeling wallpaper in front of me.
A few moments pass before I hear Elena’s voice along with two unfamiliar men, one who I’m assuming is the blue-eyed guy from before.
“Where is Y/N,” Elena asks.
“Are you talking about that girl that smells like vomit?” A snarky voice questions her. If I hadn’t just gotten kidnapped and had one of the worst days of my life, I might’ve taken offense, but I did just get kidnapped and honestly, I do smell like vomit so he’s not wrong.
“I think she’s over there.”
Footsteps get closer to me as I look up with tears in my eyes at Elena. She gives me a small smile before kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug.
“What is happening Elena?”
“I’ll explain everything if you want me to ok? Let’s just get out of here first ok?”
Elena stands up and reaches down her hand for me to take, and with a deep breath, I do.
#author#athenamikaelson#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaleson imagine#thecwshows#the originals#klaus x reader#the vampire diares imagine#theoriginalsimagines#thevampirediaries#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikaelson#stefan x elena#stefan salvatore#damon salvatore#the vampire diaries#the originals x reader
911 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m glad so many people picked up on the vibes between Eloise and Cressida. Not a ship I ever considered before, but the tension was palpable. I’ve been a Queer Eloise truther since reading the books. Her portrayal on the show only made it more obvious in my mind. I didn’t think the writers would ever go there, but the set up is just so explicit, now I’m not sure. I don’t think they’d actually make Eloise / Cressida canon, but I do think they’re testing the waters for wlw Eloise. And it makes perfect sense.
First off, the character is queer (I’ll hold off from labeling her a lesbian outright, because there’s definitely room for other identities like bi, demi, ace…. etc.) Even in the books. I legitimately think Julia Quinn accidentally wrote a sapphic character and then didn’t know what to do with her. So what we got is “To Sir Phillip, With Love”, widely considered to be one of the worst in the series. Believe me, if there’s any story that could stand to deviate from the books, it’s this one. And the story could so easily be adapted to a wlw romance, it would be a wasted opportunity not to do it. Like… the story would be better if they tweaked it to fit a queer canon. AND it could be done in a historically accurate way to shut up the naysayers that “a lesbian storyline wouldn’t fit in this universe.” How? Allow me to explain.
*SPOILERS FOR BRIDGERTON SERIES BOOK 5*
In the book, Eloise strikes up a correspondence with Sir Phillip Crane. Yes, THAT Phillip, the one currently married to Marina from season 1&2. Marina kills herself because she can’t stand to be married to Phillip and deal with their children in the wake of her lover / his brother’s death. His initial interest in Eloise is to find a mother for his children. She is intrigued by his intelligence and decides she doesn't want to be alone, but isn’t necessarily eager to marry or have a family. Due to romance novel shenanigans, she runs away to Phillip's house and is forced to marry him. Even as they grow to kind of love each other, it's far from some grand romance. It’s the very definition of “settling”. The most interesting part is the narrative structure of their story being told through letters in the beginning. We could keep all that, but make it gay.
*Imagine*
Eloise meets some dapper gentlemen new to the marriage mart. We’ll call him Emmett. Very little is known about Emmett and his family as they keep largely to themselves at their estate in the countryside. The only thing that’s widely known is the family suffered a tragic accident where the man of the house and his oldest daughter died, leaving his son (the other twin) to take on the responsibility of rank and title very early. Emmet is making a rare appearance in London to find a wife (there are rumors of stipulations in his inheritance requiring a match). ALL the debutantes are fawning over him because he’s mysterious and extraordinarily good-looking. One might even say “pretty”… To everyone’s great surprise the season’s most eligible bachelor takes a special interest in Eloise after overhearing her talking about her disdain for the social convention of marriage, and how she would only consider it if it were an in-name-only, marriage of convenience. Emmett strikes up a conversation with Eloise and she is taken by his humor, wit and shockingly deep empathy for the limitations society puts on women. They continue to gravitate to each other through the first few events of the season, but Emmett has to return home suddenly because of a family emergency. Eloise is shocked to find herself disappointed, but they promise to write. Cue the correspondence romance.
Eloise grows more and more smitten with Emmett every letter she receives, but still has the same reservations about marriage especially when she thinks of the intimacy a relationship like that would require. When Emmett hints that he may want more than friendship, Eloise's feelings get the better of her and she goes to visit Emmett unannounced. He is shocked to see her, but let's her stay and she gets to know his mother and two younger sisters. The Bridgertons go looking for Eloise, worried something has happened to her. When she is found to have been staying for days in an unwed man's home without a chaperone, the potential scandal causes Anthony to force Eloise and Emmett to marry. Surprisingly, Emmett actually agrees so Eloise does too (all of this is essentially what happens in the book).
Eloise confesses to Emmett that she's nervous/resistant to physical intimacy, but he assures her they never have to be together that way. In fact, he would prefer the marriage of convenience they always talked about. Eloise is relieved until their kiss at the wedding sparks an attraction she wasn't expecting. They spend the first month or so of their marriage sleeping in separate rooms, enjoying each other's company, and letting the tension build. One night, Eloise's control and curiosity finally snaps and she goes to Emmett's room to initiate a physical relationship. She catches Emmett off guard in his sleeping clothes which makes it VERY clear... Emmett is a woman (cliffhanger of episode 4, and where we deviate from book canon to make it queer).
After the initial shock, Eloise allows her new "husband" to explain. Emmett is really Emma, the daughter believed to have died in a carriage accident with her father so many years ago. It was her twin brother that actually died, but since there were no other male heirs, Emma's family fortune would have gone to a distant uncle who is cruel and abusive. To save them of that fate, Emma's mother conspired with the local coroner to make it look like Emma was the one who died, so "Emmett" could inherit everything. Emma has been living as Emmett ever since, successfully keeping up the deception by keeping a low profile in society. The only reason Emma came to London that year is because her uncle died, and a cousin had come around asking questions hoping to inherit. She thought getting married would help secure her identity as Emmett and the cousin would back off. At first Eloise is outraged. She feels betrayed by Emma's duplicity, and is terrified if any of this ever got out everyone they know would be ruined forever. She agrees to keep the secret to save her family's reputation, but shuns Emma. Eventually, Emma (already aware that she's in love with Eloise) attempts to make amends and Eloise is charmed enough that she relaxes back into the relationship they had before the Big Reveal. The only problem is the attraction is still there, even more so now that Eloise knows the truth. Things come to a head, and they go at it Bridgerton style.
Emma and Eloise live happily in a true marriage for a bit until Cressida and Penelope come for a visit. They both find out about Emma, but are sworn to secrecy. Pen easily swears her loyalty (having already suspected Eloise), but Cressida is sickened. In a rage, she threatens to out them all, and storms back to London. Eloise follows her and begs Cressida to keep the secret, and tries to explain why the "wrong" feelings she has for Emma are very right for her. To Eloise's surprise, Cressida isn't upset about what she's doing with Emma, but who she's doing it with. She didn't know what they're doing was an option; that she was an option. Cressida confesses that if she'd known a life with Eloise was a choice she could make, it's the life she would have chosen. Eloise lets Cressida down easy by explaining they didn't have that choice. Everyone in the ton knows who they are. The only reason her relationship with Emma works is because of the ruse that allows Emma to be Emmett. Cressida takes this in stride, and vows to keep the secret, but her mother overhears and causes the biggest scandal London Society has ever seen.
The Bridgertons and a few friends (like Lady Danbury) are as understanding as possible, but the rest of the ton is rabid. Things escalate to the point where Emma and Eloise have to appear before the Queen. Emma pleads her case about pretending to save her family, and insists that Eloise didn't know until well after they were married so she's innocent. Eloise can't help herself and gets on her soapbox about the way society limits women, and that the Queen should understand their plight. Shockingly, she does. She annuls their "marriage" (because they didn't consummate anything... RIGHT?!) but she agrees to let Emma control her family's estate until one of her sisters produces a male heir. After that, she and Eloise will receive a pension from the Crown so they can live independently (the real Queen Charlotte actually did this for suspected historical sapphic couple The Ladies of Llangollen). Since Emma and Eloise would never be able to find husbands now, they decide that they'll just be two spinsters growing old together in their house in the countryside. You know... just two gal pals. No one believes that shit, but they rarely interact with the ton, so they're largely left alone to live as they please.
Happy ending, close to canon, historically accurate, and super gay. It's not that hard. You're welcome.
#did i really just fanfic a whole season of Bridgerton to prove a point?#of course i did!#GIVE ME WHAT I WANT!!!#bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#cressida cowper#creloise#eloise x cressida
680 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay! I need to get this out of my head. I’ve seen some posts that are upset that people are upset about the BuckTommy break up. The core gripe of these posts is that the show still has HenKaren and so we shouldn’t be upset about the handling of the other main queer couple. Which makes no sense because BuckTommy and HenKaren fulfill different niches. One is a bisexual man exploring a new relationship and the other is two gay women who are settled with multiple kids.
However, this post is to talk about HenKaren. Yes I love them! They were the main thing that drew me to the show long before bi Buck became a thing. They are two black women in a relationship. Neither is ‘conventionally’ attractive. Hen is pretty visually queer. I love them. I want more of them in the show. However I don’t relate to them. Almost all of their storylines revolve around motherhood. There is very limited exploration of them as queer women outside of motherhood. Karen is a literal rocket scientist and that has never even been used as any sort of plot point. Like the amount of physics she knows and understands could be used to great effect. Micheal got to help break into a bank vault with Bobby, but Karen has never been used in a similar way. Like the amount of STEM knowledge stored in her brain 100% could have solved at least a few rescues. Can we explore these amazing woman as queer women instead of mothers just sometimes pls.
I read a fanfic that explored how Don’t ask, Don’t tell could have affected Karen. That she couldn’t become an astronaut because of it. I would love more of that energy in the show.
So yes you are right I am bemoaning the way Buck and Tommy’s break up was handled. I am bemoaning the lack of care given to exploring Buck’s bisexuality within monogamy. I am allowed to be upset. I am allowed to not relate to the storylines given to Hen and Karen. What happened to Hen being kinda witchy and blaming the moon cycle for her cheating? What happened to Hen and Karen and Athena’s wine mom nights? Where is our exploration of Karen as partner to a woman in a dangerous field of work? Where is our exploration of their relationship outside of kids?
You want me to appreciate the crumbs of queer representation being tossed my way? Well won’t you’re right we should be angry that Hen and Karen are treated as second class citizens in the narrative. We should be upset that their importance has been reduced to only motherhood. We should be upset that this show is mishandling all of its queer characters and letting Eddie Diaz have freedom and joy while our queer representation suffers.
BuckTommy was the straw that broke the camels trust in 911 ability to craft realistic queer lives and continue to care about them more than a diversity check mark. I will continue to watch HenKaren clips on YouTube and read fan-fiction. I will continue to engage with Bi Buck fan-fiction that heals the parts of me that Glee and this show have bruised. I will not thank them for the stale crumbs they brush from the table. Do I love Hen and Karen? Yes! Is it enough? Not anymore!
Anyway, I got a little heated and upset, but all this discourse is really just rubbing me the wrong way. Let people be upset and hurt. Their feelings are valid whether you agree.
#HenKaren#Karen Wilson#Hen Wilson#woman should never be ruduced to motherhood#wlw#BuckTommy#Tommy Kinard#Evan Buckley#911 discourse#911#I need to step away but tumblr keeps pulling me back in#Hen and Karen are better in concept than execution#which is so tragic#I mourn what we could have
221 notes
·
View notes
Text
call me maybe | b.eilish
billie eilish x fem!reader
context. your ex situation-ship knows how to manipulate herself back into your life, her motives however are masked by her nonchalant demeanour.
warnings. nonchalant billie, making out, confusing storyline lowk, haven’t started pt2
masterlist
- 2 years ago -
her eyes had been what captured your attention throughout the night. her gaze seemed to linger longer than it should, indicating her interest and therefore sparking curiosity in you. and something you couldn’t deny; she was gorgeous.
“where’s your friend?” her smooth voice pulled you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to your ongoing conversation.
“she ditched like twenty minutes after we got here, i haven’t seen her since.” you put it almost humorously, anticipating a full recap of her night when you’d call her in the morning.
“you’re not worried?” the girl seemed genuinely curious to know, clearly taking interest in the dynamic of your friendship, in the events of the night, in you.
“i was, the first time. i’ve gotten used to it. she’ll get home in one piece and rave about her night tomorrow morning.” she smiled at the fact you could foresee the outcome of your friend’s disappearance in the club, almost as if it were a habit.
“it’s kinda shitty that she ditched you, not a very good wingwoman. though i doubt you find it hard.” she subtly hinted at real reason behind her interest. it was easy to tell with her, there was no doubt in your mind that she’d be into girls. but you wondered if she’d assumed the same about you.
“what? like getting girls?” you’d given her the confirmation, to eliminate any uncertainty. and for a split second, you could swear you saw a small smile creep onto her lips.
“girls huh?” she put it as if she was somewhat surprised.
“what?” you questioned the look on her face.
“i just didn’t think id get that lucky.” she smirked and you felt your insides flutter.
“what do you mean?” you asked her to clarify, really just wanting her to put it into words.
“i know i just met you,” she paused for a second, pulling out her phone, “but here’s my number.” she tapped her phone against yours to transfer your contact, and you turned it on so that you could accept it.
billie eilish, that was her name.
- present -
it was her eyes that had been the main point of recognition. they were unmistakable, cold yet sultry, a perfect combination for a perfect disaster. you’d known it all too well.
“billie.” her tight lips turned upwards slightly, pleased with your greeting. after all, it had only been a few months since you’d broken things off with her. and somehow, you ended up missing her.
“babe, this is a surprise.” she never could remain serious, and you’d been grateful in the moment as it eased the awkwardness you’d been anticipating.
“yeah, i didn’t expect to see you here.” you were awfully bad at small talk, and she chuckled, likely recognising this.
“you make it sound like something bad?” she pouted dramatically and you couldn’t help smiling, blushing even.
“no, no it’s a good thing. it’s good to see you.” she bit her lip, as if pondering on a comical response.
“oh yeah? how good?” she smirked and your breath hitched.
“stop it.” you looked away from her but she reached for your face and pulled your chin up, to meet her eyes again. those fucking eyes.
“stop what?” she was grinning, a smile so wicked it made your insides burn.
“we tried, we don’t work.” your rational thoughts finally made an appearance with your confrontation.
“that’s where you’re so wrong.” her face was dangerously close to yours. her lips almost brushing yours.
“billie.” you tried to interrupt her actions, you were obviously heading in a direction you’d find difficult to navigate out of.
“shh.” she pressed her finger up to your lips, her ring resting against the skin of your chin before it disappeared, and her lips were on yours. her hips pressing against yours as the cool metal of her rings returned, resting on your neck this time.
“bil-” she didn’t let you pull away, wouldn’t let you speak. and when her hands traveled down to your ass, and her tongue met your own, you snapped back into reality.
“billie.” you were breathing heavily.
“what?” you were shaking your head, backing away from her.
“i can’t do this again.” her brows let their furrowed state and she moved to place her hands back on your figure, gently.
“sure you can. we can do it right this time.” her words were so promising you almost fell for them. but you didn’t reply, just escaping her grasp and turning away.
“where do you think you’re going, baby?” the term of endearment stung, an unpleasant twinge in your heart you couldn’t quite place.
“call me.” her smirk, dripping with confidence, aggravated you in a way no one else could. she’d leave you thinking about her for days to come, and she knew it. you could still feel her on your lips.
“maybe.” her eyebrows raised at your response, but you didn’t stay to hear her, no doubt, witty response.
taglist: @adinda-eilish @ijustlovemaths @sweetcherriexs @jaxon-nathaniel-drake @mybluebossanova @diceroll65 @tothediner @st0nerlesb0 @bilssturns @london-uhmye @bxllxebxtch @tan1shere @babybornbluenow @greenbttrflyy @asterisk-eyes
#billie eilish#billie eilish fic#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish gf#billie eilish imagine#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x you
216 notes
·
View notes
Note
I love the way all your stuff blends together sometimes
Do you plan that from the start? Or has it just kinda happened as you go?
Also all the different storylines you've got going is insane and admirable, I love reading your stuff(esp Alcohol eyes and Attractive today! Oh oh and the Future freaks me out <333)
Is there a certain plotline or character you've loved writing for the most so far?? Or one you weren't expecting to enjoy so much but do??
- can I call myself the taking care of Rumble anon lmao that was my first ask I sent to you
I knew when I started separating the storylines out into the broad categories on the Masterlist, that I’d want to weave the ones in those categories together as much as possible. It’s easier to do that writing them simultaneously. These short fics are a mimicry of how I outline actual stories. I get a ton of index cards and just write short form scenes on them.
I really wasn’t expecting to have as much fun with Metroplex as I’ve had- I had honestly initially thought the request might be a joke request and just kept thinking about it until I decided to do it anyway.
Gotta take of Rumble. 18+ content. 🌶️
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/54f2df61f38ca80053af8f237a52131f/6a36489493f9382d-d1/s400x600/a9ffab2e1e15554c6d989f67effc52297df8c5b1.jpg)
Alcohol Eyes Pt 5
Rumble x Reader
• Groaning, you drag a pillow over the top of your head as the light slicing in through the blinds finds your face. Leg sliding until it connects with something warm and hard to mingle with your headache and it all comes rushing back. A bit too much to drink, your ex. Rumble. Breaking the bed at some point apparently.
• Optics squinting at the bright daylight, there’s a faint worry that Soundwave might just kill him when he finds him, but as he sits up some and sees your leg you’d kicked out from under the sheet and follows the bare skin all to way up to the middle of your back, his spike is hard all over again. Soundwave becoming a later problem. Reaching for you even though he knows he needs to suck it up and talk to you. Because at some point you’re going to figure out he’s not a human in a costume and he’s not looking forward to that or your reaction. Right now, though? “Come here,” he growls.
• Hearing the bed creak dangerously as he shifts behind you, grabs your hips and settles himself between your spread thighs. Draping himself against your back, his weight driving the air from your lungs before he braces himself on a forearm and hooks the other under your hips. “Baby, I’m not even awake,” you laugh, voice wavering into a moan when his servos cup you, stroking. Definitely not the worst way to wake up as he uses his arm to tip your hips up and buries his spike inside you in a slow drive. “Right there,” you sigh, fingers fisting the pillow as you rock your hips back to meet his lazy thrusts.
• That wet heat grips his spike as he moves against you, in no real hurry this time. Just savoring the feel of you. He’s been with Soundwave so long, but he’ll need his own quarters now, for you and him. Soft things like humans like. Hips curling as he moves faster, you make those lovely sounds as he thrusts deep. You’ll be happy with him, he’ll make sure of it. Groaning as you tighten on him, hips rocking against you as you milk his spike. Pressing his mouth against the back of your shoulder. “Hey,” he says.
• “Good morning to you, too,” you laugh, feeling him lazily buck his hips against you again even as his excess wets your thighs. “That’s some dedication sleeping in all that,” you add. Because he’s still in his costume. The arm hooked under your hips shifts as his mouth brushes the curve of your shoulder and slides along your neck and up behind your ear. And in the light of day, it’s a bit too real. Like this means more to him than just fantastic, toe curling sex. You like the guy, but aren’t sure how to break it to him that it was just sex and after your ex, you’re not sure you want a relationship. At least not right now.
• “So,” he begins, reluctantly sliding free of you and you roll half on your side to look up at him, arching your brows at him. Easing back to sit, your bed creaks dangerously as he stretches out to catch your smaller hand. “Not a costume. And I’m not human,” he says, bracing for the fear. Not expecting you to start laughing as he grimaces. Because you don’t believe him.
Previous
Next
237 notes
·
View notes
Text
something will happen | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one
summary: you and luca embark on another a big new adventure together: one of second dreams and second chances. the long-awaited sequel to 'burn your life down.' titled inspired by something will happen - berlioz.
warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.
word count: 1.9k
a/n: it's really happening! i can't promise i'll be updating frequently, but season 3 got me inspired and i've really missed this world. this feels more like an intro than a chapter but here we are anyway. all italicized scenes are a part of the same conversation. i just wanted to play with something new so i hope it makes sense. lmk if you'd like to be tagged.
masterlist | chapter two
Late Spring
“Well? What do you think?” Luca asks you, the anticipation in the silence between the two of you palpable.
“I don’t know!” you practically exclaim, all giddy at the mere idea of it. You chew on your lower lip as you wait for him to say something next.
“I’m just saying. It’s not a half-bad idea and ehm… well, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot, actually,” he reasons with a shrug. He sends a loving glance your way because you look so damn cute wrapped in your twin-sized duvet that makes up one half of the bed you share.
“For how long?” you ask, cautiously.
“Dunno,” Luca shrugs. “Ever since Marcus mentioned it, I suppose.”
He’s almost too casual about this—as if he hasn’t been stuck on the idea for the last month or so since his friend had returned to the States.
This is most certainly not a lazy Saturday morning with breakfast in bed kind of conversation.
This is a paperwork and really nice pens kind of conversation
A big step.
Huge, even.
You’ve already agreed to live with the man.
And now this?
“Luca…” you struggle to get out on an exhale. “I just. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just-.” You pause, collecting your thoughts as you shake off all your nerves before choosing to pivot.
“What if we just-.” you begin again, taking a breath as you brace yourself to jump over this specific cliff. “Total fantasy. No limitations, no logistics, then sure. Okay. We could talk about it.”
“Alright,” Luca accepts with a nod, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes like he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. He sits up straight, pushing himself off of where he leans against the headboard, shifting so that he’s closer to you. The smile that spreads across his lips begins to grow as repeats your words back to you. “Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?”
—---------------------------------------
Summer
The dream was only supposed to be this—one where you’d begin living with your very sexy and very sweet pastry chef of a boyfriend—and yet, months later, as you move your things into Luca’s Vesterbro flat, your thoughts are consumed by ‘what ifs.’
What if you did it?
What if you opened the restaurant of your shared dreams?
What if your dreams came true with the love of your life by your side?
Opening Kokuore had been different. It was your first step towards your next chapter, one where you had moved to Copenhagen in search of a new beginning. But this would be… a proclamation: that you were here to stay, that you and Luca could be something permanent, that you could be more than just romantic partners.
Proof of a life well-lived and a life well-loved.
Kokuore had been your dream, your first, your baby. Sure, there’d been talk of expansion—maybe a bigger space, or something along the lines of that—but you hadn’t thought too deeply about a second.
You hadn’t thought about what would come next.
And then he did.
Luca.
“Need any help, love?” Luca offers, watching you scoop two stacked boxes up into your arms, ready to be hauled into the bedroom.
“Nope!” you heave with a sigh. “Not with these. But if you could grab the other three I’ll meet you in the closet, babe.”
He smirks, calling after you with a:
“And what do you suppose we should do there?”
You chuckle in response, your voice sounding further away as you shout back, “Let’s just unpack a few of my clothes, love, before we start taking them off.”
—---------------------------------------
“Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?”
You sigh, like you too haven’t been thinking about it since Marcus brought it up in the first place.
“Okay, I’m not ready yet,” you preface, cautiously. “But. If we were, hypothetically speaking, talking about opening a restaurant together… I kinda love the idea of a brunch spot.” “Like Marcus said.” “Exactly.”
“Slash bakery.” “Right.”
“Hypothetically speaking.” “Of course.”
For a moment, your mind gets away from you, running wild with the fantasy that’s beginning to unfold before your eyes.
“I think I really like the idea of it being a bakery during the weekdays when we’re open,” you admit, an excitement beginning to bubble underneath the surface of all your reasons why you shouldn’t. “Maybe we do Wednesday, Thursday all grab-and-go sort of breakfast stuff in addition to the bakery.”
“Kind of like a NY-style bodega,” Luca adds, building on your idea. “You know. With a little extra finesse.”
“Yes! Then… Friday, maybe, we pivot to full breakfast/brunch till the end of Saturday,” you reply, building off what Luca’s just said.
“Think Wednesday – Saturday service would work?” he asks curiously, knowing that most places are closed on Sundays in Copenhagen.
“We could try it out. Extend our hours to Sunday down the line IF it feels right,” you reason with enough ease to worry you a little. You begin to back pedal, your mind flooded with doubt. “But-, I don’t know, honey. Don’t you think Copenhagen has enough bakeries?”
“Not ours! Copenhagen doesn’t have ours yet,” Luca protests, as soon he begins to recognize what’s going on in your head. His excitement and passion alone might convince you to do this as he sits up on his knees, his body language expressing just how fully IN he is on this idea.
His face changes—he’s only just a little more serious this time—his tone light and voice gentle as he warns you with a:
“And I’m not letting you talk to yourself out of this.” He crosses his arms over his chest almost as if it’s a challenge. “So tell me more about this bakery-slash-brunch spot you’ve got in mind.”
“Luca Davies! I don’t know where you get off thinking you can sweet talk me into this,” you scold him teasingly.
He’s even faster to reply.
“Oh I think I can.”
And this time, you know it’s a challenge.
“Fine,” you concede to him, meeting him right in the middle of his challenge. “But I don’t want this to be all about my ideas. Besides, aren’t you the one who’s been thinking about it for months now?”
—---------------------------------------
Fall
Over fresh ink that’s barely had a chance to dry, you and Mathilde clink glasses in celebration of the very big step you’ve just taken together. The contract had barely been drawn up before she charged into now-your Vesterbro home, opened a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, ready to sign on the dotted line.
A promotion, chef du cuisine, and a bigger percentage in ownership of Kokuore—a piece of your heart—now shared between the woman who helped you create your masterpiece.
“I can’t believe we’re really fucking doing this!” Mathilde practically squeals, bursting at the seams with excitement as she rests her arms against your kitchen island. The two of you sit side by side on twin bar stools, facing each other to the best of the chair’s swivel-ability.
“I know. It’s unreal and yet it feels like the right thing, yeah?” you agree, half in shock. Shifting gears, your back to business as you continue with an explanation of the ownership plan that you’ve thought long and hard about. “It’s important to me to stay involved, but most of my focus will go towards the new space for at least the next year. We’ll have weekly check-ins and Mathilde, I want you to at least consider some kind of ownership eventually in the hospitality group should we go in that direction.”
“I forgot you went to business school. It’s very sexy,” she teases, but the prospect of a hospitality group feels even more exciting.
There’s a feeling of familiarity between you and your friend as you begin to break down some of the nitty gritty details of the contract. With Luca out for a jog, it reminds you of the days when it was just you, her, and Jesper, exploring your shared wildest dreams. The nostalgia wells in your chest as you take another sip from your champagne flute.
You were really doing this and you’re so lucky you get to do it with your favorite people.
Well, with your favorite people again.
Who would’ve thought that moving to Copenhagen would bring you this grand of an adventure?
—---------------------------------------
“Fine,” Luca agrees, knowing that the way he looks at you only stokes the flames you feel for him. He’s got plenty of ideas, spent maybe too much time thinking about breakfast menus and laminated pastry doughs folded with all kinds of experimental ingredients. He hasn’t felt this creative in… well… since he met you.
“I love the idea of breakfast/brunch. And I’m already feeling really inspired by the prospect of getting to create a menu with you, darling,” Luca begins, ready to build off of your previous idea. “I guess my first question is… who will lead it?”
He’s not expecting the elated, “You, silly!” that escapes your lips without hesitation.
It’s not that he has doubts about himself, but you are the one with the business degree. You’re also the one that’s opened a restaurant before, so he'd be more than happy to let you take reins.
“Not that I’m going to totally love being on opposite schedules but…” you continue, this hypothetical conversation feeling less and less hypothetical. “...maybe I turn Kokuore over to Mathilde… spend a little more time developing this next concept with you. But. Without question, my love, I think you should lead it.”
It’s his turn to be surprised, your unwavering belief in him felt so deeply it practically takes his breath away. The only response he can get out is:
“I love you.”
“I love you,” you giggle in response.
“I guess my question for you,” you shift cautiously, as it begins to dawn on you that this is something you just might want as much as he does. “...is… is this something you want to do? I mean, I know it’s going to be a really big pivot from fine dining and-.”
“God yes!” Luca exclaims, relieved at the thought. “I’ve been dying to get away from the fine dining stuff. I-. It’ll be an adjustment, sure. But yes. Yes, it’s what I want.”
You nod as you process, listening to the conviction in your lover’s voice.
He wants this. He really wants this.
And he’s so sure.
You let out a sigh of relief as you realize you don’t have to have to suppress the feeling any longer.
“Fuck it!” you declare, as if you’re inhaling for the first time. “Fuck ‘hypothetical.’ We should totally do this, babe.”
“Yeah?” “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
A beat.
“So…” Luca trails off, the wave of excitement beginning to wash over him.
“What do we call it?”
The baritone in his voice catches your attention, and as you look at him, you can practically see it all. In Luca you’ve found your second chapter, your second great love, and now your second restaurant. The word falls out of your mouth as if it were destiny:
“Seconds. I think… we should call it Seconds.”
“I love it,” he grins back at you.
And now, you’re just as certain about a second restaurant, because you get to do it with him. Luca chuckles, catching your gaze once more, almost as if he’s about to say ‘I told you so,’ as he utters a cheeky:
“Well, love. Looks like we gotta call Marcus and let him know he’s about to own 10% of a restaurant.”
#chef luca#will poulter#luca the bear#the bear season 2#the bear headcanon#luca x reader#the bear hulu#the bear fx#the bear fanfiction#chef luca x reader#pastry chef luca#burn your life down#something will happen#berlioz#the bear season 3
346 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’d love if you ever expanded your thoughts on the way JKR writes romance, because it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. One thing that’s very interesting to me is that jealousy is used as a driving force for both of the main romantic storylines in HP. It’s more obvious with Ron/Hermione (the Yule Ball, basically everything that happens between them in book 6, the locket horcrux stuff) but also plays a big role in Harry/Ginny. Harry’s jealousy of her relationship with Dean is what makes him realize he’s into her, and moments where he’s pining for Ginny tend to focus on that jealousy more than an actual appreciation of Ginny’s personality. The most important part of writing a convincing romance is making readers believe that these characters actually care about each other and want to spend time together, and it feels like maybe what you describe as JKR’s obsession with pining made her lose sight of that. What do you think?
We've also got jealousy as a motif in Harry/Cho and Severus/Lily. It is absolutely a trope she uses, a lot.
When I was trying to get my head around how JKR writes romance, the main thing that made it click for me was realizing that, to her - romance is inherently threatening. And/or embarrassing, overpowering, animalistic, dangerous. (thanks to @the-phoenix-heart for that line.)
Really, the Harry Potter books are kind of a romance-free zone. It is incredibly unusual to see a romantic couple, acting like a couple, on the page. We spend a lot of time with Arthur and Molly, and while they’re both pretty fleshed out as characters, we get almost nothing of their couple dynamic (and what we do get doesn’t seem all that positive…) The blocking tends to physically separate them - Molly isn’t at the World Cup or Harry’s hearing, Arthur is working overtime when Harry is at the Burrow, etc. This is a pattern: her romantic couples, of which there are not many, have a way of being in different rooms, on different side quests, one of them is mind-controlled, one of them is unconscious, it cuts to black right before Harry kisses Cho, and right after he kisses Ginny.
Ron/Hermione takes place mostly outside of Harry’s perspective, and Harry/Ginny takes place mostly out of *the reader's* perspective. It’s a lot of narration, a lot of “Harry could not help himself talking to Ginny, laughing with her, walking back from practice with her” and “[Harry] was supposedly finishing his Herbology homework but in reality reliving a particularly happy hour he had spent down by the lake with Ginny at lunchtime.” Like, I don’t know. I might have liked to see those scenes play out.
Bill/Fleur is probably her most successful couple (I mean, who doesn't like Bill and Fleur?) But even they almost never interact with each other. They talk about their relationship to other people, other people talk about them, but like… I’m just going to go through a rundown of every single time we see Bill and Fleur interact:
“’E is always so thoughtful,” purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill’s nose. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur. Harry choked over his cornflakes.
(Romance = embarrassing)
What if [Ron and Hermione] became like Bill and Fleur, and it became excruciatingly embarrassing to be in their presence, so that he was shut out for good?
(Romance = embarassing, threatening)
Most [of the people at Dumbledore’s funeral] Harry did not recognize, but a few he did, including (...) Bill supported by Fleur and followed by Fred and George
(put a pin in this one, I’m going to come back to it)
“Bah,” said Fleur [in Harry’s body], checking herself in the microwave door, “Bill, don’t look at me — I’m ’ideous.”
(I actually think this is kind of cute in context, but unfortunately JKR is being uncharitable to her hyper-femme characters again, and making a joke about woman-in-male-body, which unfortunately makes it less cute in the grand scheme of things)
“I’m taking Fleur on a thestral,” said Bill. “She’s not that fond of brooms.” Fleur walked over to stand beside him, giving him a soppy, slavish look that Harry hoped with all his heart would never appear on his face again.
(Romance = embarrassing)
“We saw [Mad-Eye die]” said Bill; Fleur nodded, tear tracks glittering on her cheeks...
(Not sure if this counts as them interacting, but they are at least next to each other)
“No,” said Bill at once, “I’ll do it, I’ll come.” “Where are you going?” said Tonks and Fleur together. “Mad-Eye’s body,” said Lupin. “We need to recover it.”
(this one doesn’t even frame them as a couple, since the teams have split into Bill and Lupin and Tonks and Fleur.)
“We can’t tell you what we’re doing,” said Harry flatly. “You’re in the Order, Bill, you know Dumbledore left us a mission. We’re not supposed to talk about it to anyone else.” Fleur made an impatient noise, but Bill did not look at her.”
(... does this imply that Fleur isn’t in the Order? Anyway, they’re married at this point, and kinda disagreeing a la Molly and Arthur)
[Griphook] continued to request trays of food in his room, like the still frail Ollivander, until Bill (following an angry outburst from Fleur) went upstairs to tell him that the arrangement could not continue.
(Another conflict, but hey, at least it sounds like they resolved it. We hear about their daughter Victoire in the epilogue, but this is the last time we see Bill and Fleur together.)
But, okay. Not putting romance in the Harry Potter books is a perfectly fine creative choice. JKR can absolutely decide she just wants to give other things more emotional weight. What clarified this for me was the Fantastic Beasts films and her adult literature (particularly the Cormoran Strike books.) In those, JKR is wanting to write romance. And yet....
In Fantastic Beasts, she can write the awkward getting-to-know-you pre-romance stuff, but the second Jacob and Queenie are actually a couple - he loses his memory, then he’s brainwashed, she’s with Grindelwald, they’re different plot lines that never intersect… and then they just get married at the end of Secrets of Dumbledore. So it’s not even a slow-burn, will-they-won’t-they thing. Tina and Newt get the same treatment, except their pre-romance getting-to-know-you beats are so subtle that a lot of people missed them completely. Then Tina's angry at Newt for a very silly misunderstanding… then in a separate plotline… and is only in the third film for two minutes at the end. People compare the structure of these films to Indiana Jones, but in those movies the love interest is actually hanging out with Indy the whole time. In the Cormoran Strike books, the romantic leads do spend time together, but they’ve also been doing a pining, bad timing, will they/won’t they back-and-forth thing for seven books. And they’re long books.
So okay. What’s going on. Why is this.
JK Rowling has been very public about the trauma she has from abusive relationships and sexual assault, and I’m afraid I do have to bring that up in a conversation about why she treats romance so negatively. More specifically - if I had to guess - I think she finds male attraction towards women threatening. (I’m sure we all remember Harry’s chest monster.) I think she feels a little icky writing it, which is why when she does do it… it feels perfunctory, generic, repetitive, and also not the sort of thing that would come from a teenage boy. (Like when has a 14-year-old boy ever thought a girl was pretty because she had nice teeth. That’s such a straight girl compliment.) BUT, when she writes about the attractiveness of guys - it gets more specific, more nuanced, more interesting, and also a lot less uncomfortable. J.K. Rowling likes guys! She’s allowed.
But of course, she also tends to write male viewpoint characters, and I think this is why a lot of her guys (and Harry specifically) kinda read as queer to a lot of people. We’re told Harry is distracted by/attracted to Cho Chang… but is he though? Compared to the way “pretty boy” Cedric, or “sleek haired” Draco get under his skin?
I want to take a look at her adult romantic leads for a second. Because in Fantastic Beasts, she really did pull out all the stops to make Newt and Jacob as non-threatening as humanly possible. Newt is a gentle, pacifist, Doctor Dolittle-type conservationist who barely seems interested in women at all, and Jacob… is a Muggle baker. She pairs Newt with Tina, tough as nails American star auror. Jacob is with Queenie, who is constantly literally reading his mind. Which is an ability we’ve only seen with the most powerful wizards. These guys are not a threat to these ladies. In Queenie’s case, the power balance is tipped so insanely far in her direction that I’m a little bit worried for Jacob (and she does in fact, bewitch him into doing stuff.) I think JKR wrote her couples this way so any romance she wrote with them would also feel safe… and sadly I don’t think it worked. The most fleshed out couple dynamic we get is Dumbledore/Grindelwald, who have a coffee date and a duel in the third movie. But - that’s the one movie where she doesn’t have sole screenwriting credit, they’re exes, and they're also both GUYS, so she doesn’t have to worry about any kind of male/female power imbalance gunk, or put herself in the headspace of a guy being attracted to women.
Now I do want to talk about Cormoran Strike. Of all her non-threatening male love interests, this is the one who seems to work best for her. She’s stuck with him the longest, and it actually seems possible that we might get an actual romantic scene with him in the next book.
Here’s my theory. I think that when JKR was writing Goblet of Fire, and it came time to introduce the real Mad-Eye Moody - imprisoned in the bottom of his own trunk, weak, down a leg and an eye - something clicked. Because that is someone who is both entirely masculine, and entirely safe, and that makes him the perfect romantic figure. And I absolutely think she grabbed that archetype when it came to writing Cormoran Strike.
Basically, this character just is Mad-Eye Moody, only 15(ish) years younger, and non-magical. Strike is an ex-military cop who now freelances. He’s older than his love interest, he’s been around the block a few times. He’s gruff, but careful and kind, world-weary and grizzled, extremely capable, principled, tough, and just sort of hyper aware of what’s going on around him. He is also a bigger guy with some access weight who is not “conventionally attractive” - and for JKR this is a feature, not a bug. If your female character is into someone who is not *~*~handsome~*~* that means they’re cool, deep, not like other girls. Viktor Krum is not conventionally attractive, and (after the werewolf attack) neither is Bill. In fact “he now bore a distinct resemblance to Mad-Eye Moody.” JKR likes Mad-Eye Moody.
And you better believe that Cormoran Strike has a broken nose and a missing leg, just like Mad-Eye Moody. Strike’s prosthetic leg comes up a *lot.* I think it’s telling that the loving interaction we see between Bill and Fleur is her physically supporting him at Dumbledore's funeral post werewolf attack, and the loving little wrist squeeze we get between Lucius and Narcissa is right before Lucius hands his wand over. Basically, JKR likes someone who is sexy and capable and has a lot of presence, but who you get to take care of, and who… can’t chase you. Doesn’t pose a threat. That's the fantasy.
#hp#jkr critical#mad eye moody#cormoran strike#jacob kowalski#newt scamander#bill x fleur#bill weasley#harry x draco#harry x cedric#dumbledore x grindelwald#literary analysis#close reading#anti jkr
255 notes
·
View notes
Text
Response to the Caitlyn haters ❤️
Yes, Caitlyn's arc absolutely, and intentionally, uses fascist tropes, but let’s be clear—people aren’t inherently bad; they’re brainwashed. Even though I might qualify as a “freaking misandrist lesbian witch with a capital B” and think all men are trash, that doesn’t stop me from believing in redemption, because I know they’re not trash. Society shapes them that way, just as Piltover’s society shaped Caitlyn. Fascism is driven by ignorance and manipulation (hello, Ambessa), and while we might not have media in this storyline, it’s the same mechanism at work.
So no, we can’t just write off Caitlyn by saying, “she’s privileged, she’s a classist, she always has been, she’s toxic, and Vi needs to move on.” No, no, no.
Yes, she lived in a bubble of luxury where everything was hidden from her and things came easily. But her family has done a lot for Zaun, and she was raised to respect people and value life. She’s cultured, intelligent, and just as much a pawn of this situation as Vi is. Vi’s use of the green is justified when she says, “We use the grey to clear the streets, to keep people safe.” Delusional? Maybe. But it’s Vi’s justification, and by extension, it’s also Caitlyn’s. Caitlyn wants Jinx, she wants to free Zaun, she wants peace. She doesn’t want to annihilate the population; she sends people to prison because that’s the law. She’s tough and maybe less flexible than before, but she isn’t the elitist fascist people think she is.
When she says “animal,” she’s talking about those who attacked a memorial with children there. She isn’t condemning all of Zaun’s people. Yes, the costumes, sound design, and coded language give her a fascist aesthetic—it’s designed to be that way and makes it “aesthetic AF”—but she isn’t a fascist, she isn’t out of character, and she isn’t toxic. Did she hit Vi? Yes. But Vi hit Powder and left her in the same way. (Sure, they were kids, and Caitlyn is an adult?) But what defines us as human is that we’re programmed to be overwhelmed by emotions. I think hitting someone is wrong, but I don’t believe it defines who we are.
As I’ve been saying in post after post, Caitlyn will come to her senses; she’ll understand it all, because she’s inherently good and intelligent.
I wholeheartedly thank the writers for giving us complex, quality content, with an arc that’s so much more than “they fall in love, fight for peace, kiss, and curtain falls.” It’s so satisfying to go on this emotional rollercoaster, and I’m confident we’ll reach even greater heights than that kiss!
#arcane#arcane season 2#caitlyn kiramman#caitvi#vi#arcane spoilers#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn x vi#vi x caitlyn#arcane thoughts#arcane s2#arcane league of legends#arcane theory#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane season two
143 notes
·
View notes