#I've been musing about this stuff for like two years and now you're getting to see it help

[coollyinterferes]

The unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching begins to fill the air. Whoever is coming seems to have brought some company along…

They are getting closer… and closer… and closer…

…and closer…

……until..................

"Goooooood evenin'!!" Comes the loud greeting from a certain blond man. A big smile on his face and all.

"We beg your pardon for our prolonged absence. It was completely beyond our control..." Then adds the gentleman standing by his side, apologizing on behalf of both, offering a genuine smile along with the apology.

"...BUT! We're back!" And hopefully for good this time…

[mistfallengw2]

This is about to get rambly, but I headcanon that queerness is a completely normal fact of life in Tyria and that no one really bats an eye about whatever floats your boat, be it gender identity or who you want relationships with.

Labels are just vague descriptors for those who want to say “that specific thing” in fewer words. To an average person in Tyria it's like finding out there's a word specifically for “person who eats just vanilla and chocolate ice cream” and just going “oh cool that's me”, but they're rarely used in general conversation unless that becomes the topic of discussion and thus not known by many. Due to it being so normal, there might still be some general genuine ignorance about queer identities one hasn't experienced within their own social bubble, but it's not seen a big deal, while actually "challenging" others' existence is seen as a pretty scummy thing to do.

That said, of course different races and cultures had their own words for certain things and slightly different points of view: charr and asura are more culturally used to temporary/open relationships and even polyamory, due to their societal structure and lack of "marriage" in the human sense of the word; humans and charr are under societal pressure to procreate no matter who you're sharing beds with, because of their wartime circumstances; gender matters little in general, and gender-based discrimination is a thing only in specific instances/communities, usually in more "traditional" settings and often in negative ways, like the Sons of Svanir and the old Flame Legion; humans are the ones who most obsess about marriage, though often for reasons beyond simple romance; norn don't care who wants to smooch/marry who, as long as they're worthy of each other; sylvari are still relatively new to life, so they've been the more open ones so far; etc.

Also also, I headcanon that the Tyria Pride event is a minor festival that originated in Lion's Arch not long after its first reconstruction under Cobiah Marriner.

It's not known how it started exactly, but at first it was just a “let's celebrate different races working together as one" kind of event, rowdy, very pirate-y and held in the taverns and ships across town with little fanfare and plenty of drinking, and it became a recurring thing. Then, smaller celebrations of love started getting lumped in as couples (especially mixed ones, as Lion's Arch was the first place that officially recognized them) chose to get married at the same time of those events, and eventually it evolved and consolidated into an annual event sponsored by the city.

As the event grew in popularity, even non-residents wanted to join the celebrations, but only in recent decades it turned into a march across Tyria. First it started as independent groups in major cities (primarily Rata Sum, Hoelbrak and Divinity's Reach) organized themselves to follow merchant routes towards Lion's Arch, as their journeys evolved into smaller celebrations of their own before the big one at their destination. While unofficial, the numbers of participants in these extra marches swelled each and every year, and eventually they were counted as part of the event by most. Then, after the treaty was stipulated between the Legions and Ebonhawke, a big collective effort was made to connect all of those marches into a single one and extend it so that the event could start in the human city, and it got consolidated after the Pact's victory against Zhaitan proved once more the strength of all races working together.

Tyria Pride is still a minor festival by Tyrian standards, but even if not all can join the weeks of marching and partying across Tyria, it remains the biggest celebration of love in all of its forms and across all barriers.

[ckret2]

Ages ago I made a post about what Ford thinks about Bill (in a billford context), and I've had an infodump on what Bill thinks about Ford floating on discord for months, and an ask finally prompted me to post it, so here ya go:

If asked why he likes Ford, Bill himself claims that Ford overthinks everything, but in such fun, interesting ways, and Bill likes the way Ford thinks about things.

But really, Bill overthinks everything too; it's just he overthinks social things. He's always calculating how to persuade, control, manipulate people. He never has a conversation that isn't a chess game, it's exhausting and he won't even admit it's exhausting. When's the last time his top priorities weren't either "how do I convince some sucker to make a portal" or "ugggh I'm so SICK of the PORTAL I'm gonna THROW A PARTY and NOT THINK AT ALL"

Whereas Ford is guy who'd hear someone say something incorrect and bluntly go "no you're wrong" and accidentally offend the hell out of them because he's SO excited to share this fantastic information they don't know. The social world DOES NOT EXIST for him until he's reminded of it.

And so he's free to turn all his brainpower instead to. Like. The environmental impact of barf fairies on fern fertilizer or whatever.

Bill knows Everything™ but he's gotten tired of doing anything with that knowledge. They're all discrete points of information to him. He doesn't have time to muse over things, he's got an inventor to manipulate at 11pm and then a party to get to at midnight. He's never once in his life thought about the impact of barf fairies on the local flora. But he does happen to know the plants in that part of the woods are more acid-resistant and wow is that why???? He's never even thought to think about that before. Thousand year mystery that Bill didn't even notice has been solved.

(On the other hand "Ford doesn't think to think about the intricacies of social interaction" is also part of what makes him so easy to manipulate, he's so much more inclined to just accept at face value a friendly offer of assistance on a big academic project. Sure Bill's helping for the sake of scientific advancement in and of itself, why wouldn't he?)

Bill wants to just, fling random facts at Ford and see if he can think up connections between them. Go nerd boy go nerd boy go

"... So there you have it Ford, that's the problem you'll have to overcome with adapting alien machinery to human fuel sources, now I wanna hear YOUR thoughts on how to overcome that problem." "Well—" talks in an uninterrupted stream that by thirty minutes in has drifted over to the history of kerosene production, which he read an interesting book about between semesters in college— "... I've gotten off topic, haven't I?" "No no, I think you're on to something. This is how brainstorming works, free association of concepts. Keep going."

Ford in the morning: "... oh no I didn't let my muse get a word in edgewise for the rest of the dream, i didn't bore him did I?" Bill: "damn, I never noticed the patent process for hurricane lamps was so contentious. There's little dramas everywhere"

When things are going well, their relationship is,

Ford: "I just wanna hear Bill teach me things about the multiverse forever."

Bill: "I just wanna hear Ford think deeply on any topic that crosses his mind forever."

Both of them when they're in peak harmony: excitedly jabbering at each other at 200 words per minute about the stupidest topic you've ever heard, but you'd need a phd in at least two fields to comprehend it

That's love!!!

Ford, having historically been socially shamed: "... am I being weird?"

Bill: "💕❤️💓yeah❣️💖❤️‍🔥"

Sometimes I think about Bill watching Ford in his sleep and being in awe at this human-shaped genius: you with your beautiful electric mind, packed into this soft flawed uneven body. one would never know it from the outside—but you're in there. This genius with a mind like a galaxy. ... and he's like, growing hair and stuff. wild.

[cowgurrrl]

Lavender Girl

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: A field trip [4.7k]

Warnings: financial stress, school fight, June once again introduces an ex, having a muse is creepy and weird, flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, June putting her art history knowledge to work

Most days, you're a good teacher. A teacher that students want to eat lunch with or inadvertently include in their silly TikToks. Most days, you're patient and kind and only have to raise your voice a handful of times, if only to be heard over the blanket volume level of teenage conversation. Today is not one of those days. "Guys!" You yell, pausing the music on your computer and turning to look at your class, obviously annoyed. "We're supposed to be talking about Picasso. I don't know why I'm hearing so much conversation about lunch." It's a lie. There was a fight between two students at lunch. It'd also been the topic of conversation in the teacher's lounge, but still.

"Miss, we already talked about Picasso!" One of your kids bemoans, and you raise your eyebrows at them. 

"So, if I asked you right now, you could tell me what historical event his painting Guernica is supposed to depict?" You ask. The entire class goes silent as you wait for a response that never comes, and you sigh. "Please, do your work."

The day started with getting yet another email from another gallery, this time from down south, telling you they loved your work but not enough to showcase or buy it. Then, a text from your manager letting you know that paychecks will be late because of technical issues with the system, even though you're already beyond broke. Then, a sad text from Andie about how she's feeling homesick and misses you and wishes you could get on a plane to come see her. Then, to top it all off, an email from your ex, Henry, popped up the second you pulled into the school. 

Hey, long time, no talk! I hope you're doing well. I wanted to reach out and let you know I've got an exhibition going up later next week and wanted to invite you to the opening. It's about-

You didn't read any further, anger and a wave of past emotions drowning you before you could. You and Henry were together all throughout college. You met during a freshman art class and were inseparable after that. He was tall, sensitive, and had a penchant for listening to country music when he worked, leading to many delirious nights spent crooning to Emmy-Lou Harris together. He surprised you with new paint and spontaneous trips to scenic parts of Texas to fuel your inspiration. You were happy for a long time. You even thought you'd marry him at one point. He wanted to be the next young, groundbreaking artist, making you his muse, no matter how many times you tried to assure him you were also an artist. Your work would go up in galleries and exhibitions, and everyone in your small program would gossip about the two of you. "He's so talented. It's insane," you heard one of your classmates say once. "And she's so beautiful." 

The compliment dug under your skin and stayed there as your relationship failed. You didn't want to be a muse anymore. You stopped letting him paint you in various states of undress and started asking for more alone time to work on your own stuff. You went from being the perfect, polished doll he could position however he wanted and started living in your paint-stained jeans and old, ratty shirt. You started arguing more and more, first about little things like why he left his paint water cups everywhere, and then about big things like your decision to pursue teaching and the "inspiration" he found in an impressionable freshman. He suddenly moved out after graduation without a word, leaving you to nurse your wounds in a half-empty apartment for the rest of your lease, and you hadn't heard from him until this morning. 

There's something more than the sting of hearing from him all these years later that bothers you. You're a high school art teacher struggling to make ends meet, and he's doing exactly what he set out to do. He's getting his work in front of his eyes and receiving praise for it. "Why do you wanna be a teacher when you can just be an artist?" He asked you one morning as you studied for your certification exams. "Or, at least, an artist's wife." 

"And what if I'm not good at that?" You asked. "Then what? I'm just supposed to be your muse for the rest of my life? Have kids to fuel someone else's inspiration and have no time for my own work? Wither away while you go on to make art and give talks and become a cynic? Fuck that." 

You stand by what you said, even all these years later, but there is an irony in that, even as a teacher, you don't have time to do your own work. Still, fuck that. The bell rings and signals the end of another class, and you quickly stand as students start packing up their stuff. "Okay, guys. Remember, your art history essay is due in two weeks! I'm excited to read all about everything you've learned since we started this unit. I love you, and please make good choices." You announce, hoping that at least some of them are listening to you, as they spill out of the classroom and the next students stream in. Ellie's sweet face is a welcome reprieve when she walks in. 

"Hey Bellie! How's your day going, kiddo?" You ask, and she smiles. You'll swear up and down all day that you don't have favorite students, but if you did, Ellie would be one of them. 

"Good. I have my signed permission slip for the art club field trip." She says. After your experience with Joel outside the bar, you couldn't sleep and knocked out all the field trip paperwork before falling asleep on your couch. But you weren't safe from his lips and broad shoulders, even in your subconscious. 

"Oh, my hero! I've been meaning to remind everyone about those. Thanks for getting that in so quickly." You say as she hands the paper to you, Joel's scribbly signature at the bottom. Somehow, you're not surprised that the box indicating he wants to be a chaperone is ticked. "Perfect. Your dad knows when the field trip is?" 

"Yeah. He wrote it down on his calendar and everything." She says, rolling her eyes fondly, and you laugh.

"Well, good, because I'm gonna need all the help I can get when I'm dealing with you guys."

"Hey!" She feigns offense as the bell rings, signaling the end of the passing period, and the last of your students comes running in. Ellie takes her seat near the front, and you grab your silly, colorful pointer to talk about Guernica, which is still proudly displayed on the board. After a quick art history lesson, you release them to work on the projects they've been working on for a week now. They still have a few more days before it's due, so more than half of them are slacking off quietly, which you're fine with. As long as you get a finished assignment at the end, they can do whatever they want.

You play quiet music as they work to help them focus and answer some emails. One email that catches your attention is from the parent of one of your students, Dalton, who's an amazing football player but is less than passionate about art, to say the least. You emailed his dad to let him know he was missing some assignments and could still turn them in late for only a slight penalty, but if he turns in nothing at all, you'll have no choice but to fail him. You also CC'd the football coach so he'd know the academic standing of one of his star players. Needless to say, you've been subject to a few not-so-nice emails from all parties involved. 

Once you're done firing off another round of emails, you decide to step away from your computer so you don't have to see the next reply until absolutely necessary. Walking around the room to answer questions, give opinions, or just hear what's happening in students' lives always makes you feel better. In one period, you helped a handful of students put the finishing touches on their projects, heard the latest gossip, and talked one of your girls out of sending a nasty text to the boy who just broke her heart. And they say teachers aren't important. 

The second you get a little bit of peace during your planning period, your phone buzzes with a notification. Given all the notifications and messages you've received today, you're hesitant to even pull it out of your pocket. But curiosity wins, and you open your phone to find a text from an unsaved number.

Is there anything I should bring to the field trip? Snacks, gum, alcohol?

You laugh to yourself and start typing a message back. 

Alcohol won't be necessary, but it might be good to bring some lunch and a few snacks. I think we're gonna try to have a picnic or something at the museum. 

Yes, ma'am.

You still feeling up to chaperone? Teenagers are no joke.

Do I need to remind you that I've raised two? I think I can handle a few more.

Oh, I can't wait to see this.

It can't be that hard, right?

On the day of the field trip, it turns out to be that hard. The only adults accompanying twenty teenagers to the museum are you and Joel. They're excited to be out of school and doing something new, but you can feel your migraine starting before you even get on the bus. Thankfully, the ride to the museum (and the traffic) calms them down, and they're more manageable by the time you arrive. A curator meets you outside the front doors and begins by walking your group through the outdoor sculptures, giving a little bit of history of the museum and the pieces themselves. The kids ask insightful questions and take turns snapping photos or even sketching a rough outline of the piece before moving on to the next. You stay at the front of the group while Joel manages the middle and back, silencing kids with a stern look. You fight a smile when you catch him and Ellie lingering at a sculpture, whispering to each other before he urges her forward and takes a sweet picture of her smiling in front of it. 

After the initial walk of the grounds, you stop to have lunch in a sunny garden and listen to the kids gush about their favorite part so far and what paintings they're most excited to see inside. 

"Miss, what's your favorite thing here?" Kayla asks.

"I like Dream Village by Chagall. If you find it before me, you'll have to let me know." You say. "Do you have a favorite?"

"Not yet. Maybe I'll find it today." Kayla says.

"I like that attitude!"

"Kissass." Jacob coughs, and you both give him a look. You can feel Joel's eyes burning a hole in the back of your head as you stare at Jacob.

"What's my policy?" 

"Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Yep." You say, and he sighs.

"You can be anything you want to be, but you're not allowed to be a dick." He mumbles.

"Exactly. So, please, be nice," you say as you fish around in your lunch box for something. "Here, have a cookie. It might help make you feel a little better." He mutters a little thanks and unwraps it, already in a better mood after one bite, and you smile. 

"You just carry around cookies, waiting for a kid to be in a bad mood?" Joel asks, and you turn to look at him. He's wearing a plain blue t-shirt and jeans with sunglasses sitting atop his head, but you think it might be your favorite thing he's worn in your presence. You like it when he wears color.

"It was my cookie, but he needs it more than I do," you shrug. "Besides, things like that are a great morale booster. It's hard to be grumpy when you've got something sweet." 

"I'm inclined to agree with you." He quips a little too smoothly, his eyes flicking across your face and down to your lips, and you feel your cheeks getting hot. Thankfully, all the kids have returned to their own conversations and couldn't care less about what the Adults are talking about. 

"You're relentless." You whisper.

"Do you want me to stop?" He whispers back, and you sigh. If you were a stronger or better person, you might be able to think fast enough to come up with a response, but you're not. So, you just look at him and rack your brain for something to say but come up empty. "That's what I thought." He smiles and offers you his sweating Dr. Pepper can as a peace offering. You roll your eyes at his smug look but take a sip anyway. 

Once everyone is done eating, you all stand and make your way into the museum lobby, the kids already chattering about what they want to see. 

"Okay, you guys are free to roam but please, please, please remember that you're representing not only the school but also me. Be respectful and kind, and please don't act like you've never been in public before, okay? Go, be free." You say before the kids split off into their little groups with their obligatory activity in hand. Ellie stays near Joel, only a little shy, until Kayla turns around suddenly and waves her on.

"Ellie, c'mon!" She says. Ellie takes a few steps in her direction before turning to look back at Joel.

"Go. I'll be okay." He says.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now go. Have fun." She doesn't need any more encouragement after that and skitters off with the rest of the kids, leaving you and Joel alone in the atrium. 

"She's doing really well." You tell him even though he can clearly see for himself. 

"Thanks to you." 

"All I did was give her a push."

"Take the credit. You deserve it." He says, his lips pulling into that award-winning smile. 

You fall into silence as you walk through the different galleries, Joel never too far behind you. Sometimes, he'll start at the opposite end of the room and work his way down until you meet in the middle, making a deliberate effort to bump your shoulder or hand as he passes. Other times, he'll stay right next to you, and, for some reason, it doesn't bother you. You like being so close to him and feeling his eyes work over the piece like it's a puzzle he doesn't quite know how to work. When he can't stand the quiet anymore, he'll whisper a question to you about the artist or the history, his breathing fanning out across your neck and making the hair there stand on end. 

After moving through a big part of the museum together, you and Joel end up at the same painting as the dull hum of voices fills the space between you. You smile to yourself, practically hearing him trying to find something to say as he stands there and observes how the lines of bright colors follow each other. Some are stark and almost resemble lightning in how they move around the canvas, but others are muted, blended together with careful precision and patience. It's hard to imagine what West Texas could've been like in 1953, but this makes it a little easier.

"What's this one supposed to mean?" Joel mumbles, leaning ever so conspicuously into you. 

"I can't tell you." You mumble back, and he finally turns to look at you head-on. You meet his eyes with an amused smile, and he shakes his head at you.

"You're really not gonna tell me?"

"I can't tell you what art is supposed to mean to you. I can't tell anyone that." 

"But, you're a teacher."

"If you're asking me for an art history lesson, I'd be happy to help, but that's about all I can do for you."

"'S cruel and unusual punishment."

"If art and culture are cruel and unusual punishment, why'd you sign up to chaperone?"

"Maybe I wanted to see my friend," he says, bumping you with his shoulder, and you laugh a little too hard. "What? We can't be friends? Is there a school policy against that, too?" 

"Nope, no school policy. I just," You pause and revel in how enraptured he looks at every movement, pause, and breath you take. "I already have friends, so..."

"Oh, and you're 'fraid of bein' too popular?"

"Famously." You say, and he chuckles next to you. You go back to staring at the painting quietly with him so close you can feel his body heat. You're the one to break this time, knocking him with your shoulder to get his attention again. You didn't need to. When you glance at him, you see his focus is on you, not the painting. "It's Texas. Canyon, to be more precise. Up by Amarillo where there's nothing but cattle and desert. O'Keeffe taught out there for a few years and wanted to paint something that showed how big the West is. It's supposed to make you feel like you're two feet tall and seeing the sky for the first time. For her, it might've been the first time in a long time she'd gotten to see a sunset that big. So, she painted it so other people could enjoy sunsets like that. It's like a love letter." 

"How d'you do that?" He asks once you're finished explaining, and you furrow your eyebrows. 

"Do what?" 

"Make little things seem so beautiful." He answers easily, like you asked him what color the sky is. You don't know what to say. What are you supposed to say to something like that?

"'S just what art does." You shrug and break away from his gaze to look at the painting, if only to not feel him staring into your soul.

"No, it's what you do to it. 'S why those kids love you so damn much. You make everythin' feel like a masterpiece, even the little things." He's not flirting. He's not trying to persuade you to do one thing over another. He's genuine and heartfelt. You swear you would start crying if you had a little less sleep. You take a deep breath and lean into him for half a second, just enough to feel his body against yours, before standing upright again.

"Thank you." 

"It's what friends are for," he says, leaning into you in return. "I should make sure they haven't seized the museum or anythin'."

"Oh, I can do it. You're a guest."

"And you work too hard," he stops you. "Take a break and enjoy what you love. The world won't end if you take some time for yourself." If ever there were awards to be given out for sweet talking, you think Joel Miller would win all of them. 

"Okay," you say, and he walks behind you to move on to the next section. "You really wanna be my friend?" You ask before he can fully pass behind you, looking at him over your shoulder. He smiles devastatingly, light sparkling in his eyes, and nods.

"I really wanna be your friend." He says softly, his voice low and rumbling in his chest. He lingers for a second or two before finally making his way to the group of students, leaving you to scrutinize the painting you've been staring at for God knows how long.

The day crawls to an uneventful close, with you forcing all the students to take a picture in front of the museum for the yearbook. Joel takes your phone out of your hand and all but pushes you in the photo, and your students lovingly welcome you into their little group. In exchange, you grab Joel's phone and take cute pictures of him and Ellie for their own memories. They smile almost identically, and Ellie makes a fake annoyed face when Joel kisses her temple. Your fingers brush against each other when you hand it back, and for a second, you can feel the callouses from his job. It feels like unlocking a new piece of him or a new quirk. 

Too bad this isn't a date. Too bad nothing can ever come of this. Too bad you had to meet this way. Too bad. Too bad. 

The ride home is quiet and full of the clinking of backpacks and new souvenirs. When you get to the school, parents are waiting in the parking lot with fast food dinners and excited ears to hear all about their days. Almost everyone immediately slinks home, tired and happy, before you can even get close to the school doors. Almost everyone. Joel and Ellie help you carry your backpack and some things you bought for teaching purposes at the museum into your classroom. The school is virtually deserted, and you return to your room to find all the lamps flipped off and mostly positive notes from the sub. 

"Dad, what are we gonna do for dinner?" Ellie groans as you sit in your chair and open your email quickly before you can pack up the rest of your stuff. Their dinner debate becomes background noise as you find your inbox full of annoyed messages from Dalton's parents, coaches, and even Principal Martinez regarding his grades. Under all that vitriol sits Henry's half-read message about his gallery opening, and you feel the perfect bubble of your day burst around you. Joel and Ellie seem to realize it because they're both quiet when you tune back into their conversation, and you turn in your chair to look at them. 

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks, and you snap out of it, putting on your best teacher everything-is-fine face.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just some emails. It's not important." You wave her off, but Joel isn't so easily convinced. He thinks for a second before pulling his keys out of his pocket and handing them to Ellie. 

"Go get some practice driving." He says, jerking his head toward the door, and Ellie's eyes light up.

"Really?!"

"Just bring the car to the front, and don't hit anything!" He says, but she's already taken off with the keys and her stuff in an excited whirlwind. You laugh at her enthusiasm, and Joel leans against one of the desks near you, crossing his arms in front of him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." 

"Your whole face fell when you opened that computer." 

"It's nothing." 

"If we're gonna be friends, you're gonna have to tell me if somethin's wrong otherwise I can't help you." He says, and you fight a smile. 

"I don't know how you're gonna help me with this one." You say. He bumps your foot with his and gives you a pleading look. Big brown eyes on men like him should be illegal, you think.

"Talk to me." He begs quietly, and you take a deep breath.

"When I was in college, I dated this guy. He was an artist, too, and we were like the little power couple of our program. Things ended kinda badly and abruptly, and I hadn't heard from him since graduation until last week when he invited me to his gallery opening. I really don't want to go alone because, honestly, I haven't been able to get anything showcased in years, and I'm embarrassed. Plus, he broke my heart and made me feel like shit for a few years." You can't stop the words from falling from you once the dam is broken, but Joel doesn't flinch.

"Well, you've got friends to go with, right?"

"I do," you say. "But I want to invite you."

"Oh." He says, seemingly unintentionally.

"Oh." You repeat. "You can say no. I just thought... since we're friends and all now."

"I just... I don't..." he struggles before finally giving in to what he wants to say, what you think he's wanted to say all day. "I don't think I'm smart enough to go to somethin' like that. I don't know anythin' about art. I don't even know how to dress for those kinda things."

"Nobody knows anything about art. Not really, at least. Especially not Henry."

"You do."

"Then I'll stick with you all night and feed you lines about composition or some shit," you say. "And you just wear a nice shirt and some slacks. Maybe a suit jacket if you're feeling snazzy. It's really not as big a deal as people make it seem. We'll go, drink wine, say something about the colors, play nice, and then we'll leave. I'll have you home by 9:30. Earlier if you really hate it that much." He rolls his neck like he's rattling something around in his head or thinking about your offer, and all you can do is watch him and the way his Adam's apple pressing against the delicate skin of his throat. You're convinced he's gonna say no.

"Are you asking me on a date?" He finally asks, and you laugh.

"Not a date."

"Sounds like a date. You even promised to have me home to my girl at a reasonable time."

"Fine, it's a friend date."

"A friend date?" He raises his eyebrows at you, and you nod. 

"It's perfectly normal to go on friend dates, Miller. You're just behind on the times."

"Seems like I am. Maybe you can bring me up to speed during the gallery opening?" He says, and your shoulders drop in relief. "I'll pick you up if you agree to help me not look like an idiot."

"You won't look like an idiot." 

"Not with you there, I won't." He says, and you want to laugh, but you also want to tear up a little at his kindness. It's been a long week. 

"Thank you, Joel. Really. I owe you." You say, and he nods. 

"'S my pleasure," he says. For a minute, you two just stare at each other in your empty classroom like teenagers with an obvious crush. You think that's what you feel like. You think that's all you'll ever be able to feel for him. "I should go. I've got an impatient teenager waitin' for me." 

"Yeah. Go get her some dinner, and I'll text you the details." You say as you stand to walk him out. He stands to his full height, opens his arms, and approaches you. You didn't think you were hugging territory, but as his arms wrapped around you, you couldn't help but hug him back.  

"Goodnight." He says into your hair, lingering for another moment before disappearing as fast as he appeared. 

"Goodnight," you say. With that, he starts walking to the open door with a smile stuck to his face. "Hey, Joel," you call before he can step over the threshold, and he turns around to look at you. "Art is for everyone, and even if it wasn't, you're more than smart enough to enjoy it."

"Yes, ma'am." He says with a half-salute and a wink before stepping out of your classroom. You let yourself rest against your desk and take a deep breath. Finally, you let yourself pull out your phone and read the rest of Henry's email detailing the time and place of the gallery. 

I hope you can come. It would really mean a lot to me. I miss talking to you and even though things ended the way they did, I still love you.

See you soon,

Henry Hall

"Fuck that."

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[blossomwritesthings]

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. | 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐬

⬷ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab) // chan x fem!reader (afab)

genre: nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. college au. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. friends to enemies to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining. cheating. abusive boyfriend/ex. drama galore. the sexual tension is REAL in this one.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. felix is reader's estranged childhood bestie. chan is low-key an asshole in this ngl. heavy topics are mentioned such as: abusive/toxic relationships, cheating, and pathological lying. drinking/partying. the summer vibes are real in this one. there will be humor/fluff throughout to balance everything. and ofc smut too because who am i if not a whore for filthy felix smut. 😉

word count: 2.6k

summary: ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.

a/n: I wanted to get this out like, last week... but then life hit and adult responsibilities came along so this is where we're at now. 💀 i'm planning on having this be about 8-10 parts, so we're almost halfway through this little series of mine~ 😖 anyways, go vote for skz on the vmas, and stream superbowl jpn ver!!!! also, I've been working on this one minho smut piece for the past week and... it might get released tmrw, but we'll see... just, get your panties ready, everyone!! 😃👍🏼

🌊 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The moment Felix pulled up to his ‘secret location,’ you turned over to look at him with wide eyes and a dropped mouth. 

 “Why are we here?” You asked as you watched him switch the car off and flash you a playful smirk. 

 “Thought it might help to make you feel better… sweets always do that for me, at least.” He shrugged nonchalantly, like him bringing you to the ice cream shop of your childhood wasn’t that big of a deal. The Ice Cream Hut was located right on the popular local boardwalk of Bridgeport Bay and was open 24/7. Throughout your childhood, you and your friends had frequented the joint, going all summer long and tasting all the flavors of the rainbow. Felix was a creature of habit and had always chosen the mint chip for his flavor of the day, while you were always trying something new. 

 Over the years, you had stopped coming to the place. It held too many painful memories for you. And to be honest, you weren’t craving the sweet ice cream like you once were as a young child. You had tried to go into the place soon after Felix left for South Korea, but you ended up just running out and back into your car, in a fitful of tears as the painful memories of your last argument resurfaced. 

 As soon as you entered the Ice Cream Hut, the smell of freshly baked waffle cones and sugary ice cream filled your nose. “Damn, this place hasn’t changed one bit from how it was during our childhood,” you mused, as you took a peruse around the coolers that held the ice cream. There were well over thirty different flavors, but with it being so late at night, you two were the only ones there. 

 You turned to Felix and noticed him giving you the look. The one he always had whenever he was feeling super happy. It spread across his face, turning the corners of his mouth up and crinkling the edges of his eyes. He always lit up the entire room whenever he grinned like that. 

 “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow his way as you ordered a scoop of rocky road on a waffle cone. 

 Felix laughed heartily, like him taking you to an ice cream place at two in the morning on a Sunday was something the two of you did regularly. Well, it was something you two used to do. That is, until everything turned to shit and he moved away and your heart broke again and again with every day that passed. “I don’t know- I’m just happy to see that you’re feeling a little better.” He said, going ahead and ordering his usual - a scoop of mint chip on a sugar cone. 

 At the mention of the party from an hour before, and the way that everything had blown up in your face, you felt your heart start to throb with a dull ache. In an instant, a cool shiver was running down the length of your spine, and you were already finding a seat near the window of the shop to catch your breath. 

 “Sorry, I shouldn’t have even mentioned it,” Felix started, reaching out to you from his seat across the small blue-stained wooden table and offering your free hand a gentle squeeze. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to… I totally understand if you want to forget about it all.” 

 You found yourself shaking your head, taking a tiny lick of your ice cream to try and quell the rising agony that was lifting from your chest and into your throat. You could feel it coating your cheeks in a healthy dose of crimson, coloring your ears in a pinky-blush. “No- no, it’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it.” 

 Felix offered you a frown, and you could feel his eyes scan up and down your slumped form as you took a huge bite out of your cone. “You know… it’s okay to be upset about it. I think any sane person would,” you peered up at him through your blurry eyes. The bright lights of the ice cream shop made your head throb painfully and your eyes water from unshed tears. “Just, don’t hold anything inside, yeah? That shit- bottling it all up, isn’t good for you.” 

 You stayed silent after that, focusing on your ice cream for a little bit. Focusing on the view that was just outside the window. The ocean could be seen in the distance, but with the time of day, it just looked like a black mass of nothingness. It almost resembled what you were feeling at that moment - bleak and cold and deep, with so many different emotions swirling in your depths all at once. 

 “At the moment, I was mostly just angry,” you began hesitantly after the two of you had finished your ice cream and you were sitting back in your chair. He was right - the sweetness was helping to soothe the ache of everything. Sure, it was cloying on your tongue, but at least you were concentrating more on that than the resentment that you felt buried deep in your soul. “But now, I’m just really fucking upset. Like… why the fuck would he do such a thing? And I know it was just some stupid party game and he just meant it as a joke, but-”

 “What if it... wasn’t a joke, Y/N?” 

 His question came out a little hushed, and as your eyes flitted up to stare at him, it felt like it was only the two of you in the shop at that moment. The employee that was standing behind the counter scrolling on his phone seemed to melt away, and all you could pay attention to was the way that he was gazing back at you. 

 Dark brows pulled together, 

 Jaw stretched tautly, 

 Lips pressed into a firm line, 

 Eyes sparkling with a myriad of concerns and worries. 

 “W-What?” You tripped over your words, hands fiddling with the hemline of your shirt to keep yourself busy. To keep your mind busy. 

 “I mean… what if that wasn’t a one-off thing? Not just a party game thing?” You could tell he was hesitant to continue, as he tilted his head to one side, gauging your reaction to his words by his eyes bouncing around your form. “I mean, what if it’s something that happens quite often?” 

 You gave him an incredulous chuckle, “What, like Chris is fucking my best friend?” 

 At his quietness, you turned rigid in your seat. 

 Spine going stiff as a board, 

 The blood rushing like icy heat through your veins, 

 Mind spinning out of control as you began to conjure up all kinds of ideas and wonderings. 

 “Felix- do you… do you know something that I don’t?” Your voice came out grave and quiet, as you felt your eyes widen in shock. You could feel your heart beat against your chest so fast, it felt like you were about to break all of your ribs from the impact. 

 He offered you a peculiar look. One that you couldn’t quite read all of the way. Almost like, he already had his answer for you, but knew you wouldn’t like it, so he was withholding the information. And one thing that you loathed the most in the world, was when people would hide shit from you.

 At his silence, you spoke up again. “Felix, if you know something, you need to fucking tell me right now or I swear I’ll-”

 He threw his hands up in the air in defeat, offering you a deep frown and running a few fingers through his messy blonde hair. Even though he hadn’t drunk at the party, it sure looked like it. With the messy cuff of his violet-purple graphic tee and flushed cheeks. It almost seemed like… he had been with someone at the party. Made out in the back corner of Jeongin’s living room and stuck his tongue down someone’s throat and you didn’t know how to feel about that. It was apparent from the flush of his cheeks - the swollenness around the corners of his lips.

 Finally, he was speaking again. But his voice came out hushed like he was afraid someone you knew would walk in any minute. Someone like Chris. And hear his words. “It’s just that… I’ve noticed some things between him and Yeji. Like- the air is charged when they’re together and it was so fucking obvious tonight. And I don’t fucking know, it’s really-”

 In the next breath, you were shooting up from your chair. Your movements were so fast that the metal scraped against the lime-green linoleum floor and made your eardrums ring with the screech for a second. But nothing else matter at that moment, because all you could focus on was what he was saying. 

 What Felix was saying. 

 What your ex-best friend who had abandoned you was trying to claim about your boyfriend.

 “Are you saying that Chris is cheating on me?” You asked incredulously, voice already starting to rise. You could feel the red start to creep up the column of your neck again, painting your entire face in a deep shade of crimson. “Sure- what he did at the party was fucked up, but I don’t think he’s actually getting his dick wet with Yeji!” 

 Felix sat back in his chair, eyes widening by the second at your sudden change in demeanor. And if you were being truly honest, you were more hurt about his suggestion of Chris cheating on you than the stunt that your boyfriend had pulled at the party. 

 The fact that he was insinuating something so horrible made your stomach churn in a fit of rage, and already, you could feel the red seeping into the edges of your vision. Painting everything in a blush-colored light. 

 “I’m not saying that, Y/N,” Felix protested, standing up from his chair now as well and gazing at you with a desperate look on his face. One that read of hurt and confusion. “I’m just saying… I think maybe there’s more to him than you think you know about…” 

 You chuckled, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in your voice. Instead, it came out all gravelly and bitter. And then in the next beat, you were scooping up your handbag from the table and leveling him with a cold stare. “Yeah, well fuck this- I don’t need your bullshit of an excuse for a therapy session when all you’re trying to do is convince me that my boyfriend is sleeping with my best friend!” You shouted, your tone coming out so hard, it cut through the air like an icy dagger. Slicing through skin and heart and puncturing right into Felix. 

 You could tell it hurt like a bitch, too, from the way his brows crumpled together and the look in his eyes melted from one of confusion to pain. The light that you had found shining there the entire time you ate your ice cream together vanished. That happiness that you had seen flash across his face as soon as you stepped into the Ice Cream Hut was wiped away.In an instant, it drained out of him, leaving him to be a shell of the man that he had been not even five minutes earlier. “Y/N, I-”

 But you didn’t afford him the chance to reply, as you flitted out of the ice cream shop’s front door as fast as you could. You set a hellish pace down the sidewalk, and with it being so late at night, the road right alongside you was void of any cars. It was silent, save for the sound of your breath as it fell in anxious patterns in front of you. 

 In, out, 

 In, out- 

 A firm, slender hand clamping down on your forearm sent you careening to a stop, and you heard a sharp intake of air sound from just behind you. For a moment, you stood there, motionless. You didn’t even know where you were going at first. 

 You just had to get away from it all. 

 From what he was insinuating, 

 And what his words were bringing up… 

 Hurts from the past, 

 Memories from the time when you had had such a big fight about your boyfriend Chris, that you had ended things with Felix permanently. 

 At least, you had thought that things were permanent. 

 Until Lee Felix showed up on the doorstep of Angel Waves two weeks before, all sun-kissed and bleach-blonde hair and muscular shoulders. 

 Everything hurt, and it had grown to be too much. 

 “Wait- Y/N. Please, just wait for a second.” 

 His voice came out in a wavering line, ghosting over your ears and forcing a violent shiver down your spine. 

 At that moment, you couldn’t even turn around to look at him. With your heart beating against your ribcage and your mind running a mile a minute, you could do nothing but stand there, arm still being held by one of his slender hands. The tears flowing down your cheeks left wet tracks in their wake. They clouded the corners of your vision, turning everything into a murky cobalt blue. 

 “You don’t have to say anything else, Felix,” you began, voice cracking under the pressure of it all, as you took in a shuddering breath and leveled your gaze onto the sidewalk ahead of you. Your parent’s house wasn’t too far away, which was always why you had frequented the ice cream shop as a kid. The walk wouldn’t be that bad. “I already know how you feel - about him, about me… about us. You already expressed your blatant disapproval when you left me in shambles years ago. I’m not expecting any better from you- I don’t need your approval of who I do and don’t date. So stay the fuck out of my life and my business and my relationship.” 

 The words were truly cruel and heartless. 

 That much, you knew. 

 And even though you had been seeing nothing but red earlier in the ice cream shop, now everything was turned to a dull, hollow ache. 

 You weren’t even that upset about Chris anymore. 

 You weren’t upset about his stupid display at the party, or even the fact that Felix had insinuated the relationship between your boyfriend and your best friend was anything more than cordial. 

 No, you were upset at Felix. 

 Right then, you wanted nothing more but to never see him again. 

 To never lay your eyes upon his shining, brilliant face, 

 Or hear his deep timbre voice, 

 Or remember all of the days you had spent together as kids - good and bad. 

 You wished you could go to sleep and wipe all memory of him. 

 Because maybe then, you wouldn’t feel so much agony. 

 It throbbed through you, shooting up the pit of your stomach, dancing in your veins, coursing across your eardrums, and pooling in your throat as a large lump and big, fat tears that didn’t stop. 

 Your legs were moving on their own accord, carrying you forward, toward’s your parent's house. Your arm still burned from where Felix had touched it - it felt seared from the sharp pull you took as you drew away from him.

 And the worst part about it all? 

 Was that the entire time, 

 You wanted nothing more but for Felix to catch up to you, 

 To throw his arms around you and bury his delicate face in the crook between your shoulder and neck and sob his heart out as he told you how sorry he was. 

 But instead, 

 You were left with complete and utter silence. 

 No grabbing, no crying, no pleading. 

 And that’s what hurt the most.   

To be continued...

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[doodlesdreaming]

Writing Idea: The other Horsemen learning Death lost a fiddling contest to some random human kid

(Anyone who has watched my darksiders streams will instantly get this joke. If not...well hope you enjoy anyway. XD)

There are a good handful of words that Strife would use to describe Death. 'Sarcastic', 'Cold', 'Jackass,' to name a few. 'Hoarder', on the other hand, not in a million years... until now,

"God damn...just how much stuff do you need!? Half of these is just junk."

The gunslinger tossed aside what looked to have been an angelic relic of some sort. But the piece was cracked nearly in two, rendering it useless. Grumbling, he continued to sort through a large, self made, pile of various gear and weaponry, much like his other siblings in several spots of Death's bone built abode. The sound of steel unsteathing from leather, turned his attention up to Fury admiring a katanta shaped sword.

"Not everything here is junk, Strife." Fury spoke with a smile curling on her lips. Her eyes, as bright as the rest of the Four, seem to gleam in the light of the blade in her hands, just as the hand of her eldest brother promptly snatched it from her grasp,

"None of it is junk." Death retorted, "And if you looked as fast as you move your mouth, Strife, we would be well on our way by now."

"It would REALLY help if you remembered where you put the damn thing to begin with!" Strife glared, temper ever so slightly beginning to boil.

"How did this mess even come to be anyhow?" War questioned as he joined the rest of his kin in the 'master bedroom' of the house, "Your home, empty as it is, is at most organized. But last I was here, there wasn't much to begin with."

"Vulgrim." Death explained, sighing in annoyance. "Apparently, after I was...indisposed, he dumped all my gear in my house. While keeping some of it to himself, as I've come to learn."

"Like Harvester..." War sneered, "I still wonder how he got his filthy hands on your scythe . Or what else he might be hiding in his void holes, like your golden fiddle, for instance. I do not see it among this horde."

"Woah woah woah, his what now?" Strife froze as he was setting aside a pair of boots to turn fully towards his little brother, "His...golden fiddle? You're joking, right? Death? With any sort of instrument?"

"I would not lie about this, brother." War told him, "I distinctly remember seeing a golden instrument hanging up on his wall when I was here during the Battle of the Abomination Vault. I meant to ask about it, Death, but I had forgotten about it after the fight. And now, it appears to be missing."

Death said nothing. He appeared frozen in place, bent over a set of gear. He slowly stood up, turning to face his siblings, with the most neutral face he could pull behind his bone mask, "I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about, War."

"I could've sworn..." War mused, beginning to wonder if maybe he had mis-remembered. It had been over several centuries ago.

"Did you so happen to lose it to some kid with musical talents that far surpassed your own?" Everyone glanced towards Fury, who leaned over a rather large set of armor, smirking up at her eldest like a cherisare cat,

"There so happens to be a popular tune the humans like to sing, of a devil who went to some place called Georgia, looking for souls when he came across a young fiddle player. The devil bet his golden fiddle that he could play better and lost." Fury curled her hands under her chin, smiling oh so sweet and innocent like, "Could perhaps that devil be you?"

The silence that filled the room was nearly deafening. War and Strife looked to Death to see what he would say, only to see the Pale Rider slowly cross his arms and turn to look away from his siblings' stares.

"That brat swore he wouldn't tell a soul..."

War and Fury fought to keep rising snickers in check, but Strife did not even try. He roared into infectious laughter that broke the other two. Growling,Death tossed a leather worn boot at Strife’s head. The White Rider promptly ducked and scrambled to flee as Death gave chase.

[vickyvicarious]

I didn't want to clog up your post about being barefooted but it reminded me that now following Dracula Daily after having read the book many years ago, I have been clocking similarities+parallels between Jonathan and Lucy in several things such as vulnerable youth, condemned while betrothed, restless dreams, performativity, secrets, stolen innocence. I've seen -not on tumblr, other places- comparisons between the two girls, but honestly it looks like there's interesting comparative readings between the first two main victims to be had so I'm looking forward to re-reading Lucy's arc semi-blind after Jonathan's.

Yes! I completely agree, Lucy and Jonathan have a lot of super interesting parallels. I won't talk about it too much here - both because you're looking forward to going in semi-blind and because I also want to do a closer reading as we go along to see what I catch - but there have already been some really cool echoes/mirrors between them. Specific stuff like:

Jonathan's mirror getting broken/Lucy musing about looking into her mirror

The three vampire women attacking Jonathan/the three suitors proposing to Lucy

Dracula touching Jonathan without consent/the suitors taking Lucy's hands in a reassuring expression of friendship

Dracula deciding Jonathan's fate by giving him that deadline/Lucy choosing her own by picking Arthur

(There's specific posts in my "lucy westenra" tag talking about all of those, often in greater detail from people who noticed them first and elaborated really well, but I digress.)

And of course that is just so far and in addition to bigger themes and roles like the ones you've mentioned. The one I have been especially interested in watching is the (in)ability to speak freely and how that manifests in each of them when under Dracula's influence (a BIG thing with Lucy; for Jonathan, there are two different answers during and after the castle, both of which compare to Lucy in very interesting ways).

The performative one is super cool because I haven't thought about it in that specific way before but you're so right. Jonathan and Lucy both put on a really good act and try to hide their true feelings, but the circumstances and ways in which they do so is at the same time quite different and bearing some major similarities. I may have to think/talk more about that in the future once we get to a certain letter from Lucy.

I also love the mention of condemned while betrothed together with that stolen innocence and vulnerable youth, because they both have this big cocktail of that mixed together when they're attacked. Both of them are leaving one stage of life behind them (clerk, teen girl living with her mother) and have just embarked upon a new one (solicitor, engaged to be married - that one both but marriage is also equivalent to Lucy's career in a way) when they meet Dracula. But neither are settled into it yet. This is Jonathan's first big job and he's away from home, Arthur isn't there with Lucy and she's still preparing for the wedding. Both times, Dracula comes along right on that cusp of the life they've chosen and are looking forward to, and he tries to take it all away from them.

I'm starting to get more spoilery/talk about stuff I want to when it's fresher so I'll stop here for now but I am absolutely with you on finding a lot of interesting comparative readings to be had with these two specifically, and I too will be looking for/enjoying them as we go along!

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Just Let Me Adore You Pt. 8

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: none actually this is pretty cute they just go on a date lol

Genre: Pretty much ALL fluff, it's cute

Summary: You’ve been dating your boyfriend, Bruce, for 3 absolutely blissful years. He’s a scientist and professor who is as smart as he is kind and if anyone asked, you were sure you’d spend the rest of your life with him. That is until two mysteriously charming men that Bruce swears are dangerous take an interest in you that threatens to turn your entire life upside down. I mean… what exactly are you supposed to do with two gorgeous men telling you something that suggests that basically everything you think you know is a lie? And why does part of you have enough doubt to wonder if they might be telling the truth?

Series Masterlist

***

You watch curiously as Wanda shuffles through one of the boxes sitting around the guest room in her apartment. Even though you've been here a few weeks you're avoiding fully unpacking your things since you snuck them out of your and Bruce's previously shared apartment.

"You should really unpack this stuff like how do you find anything if it's all in boxes?" Wanda huffs.

"All the important stuff is unpacked. I didn't really expect to be going on dates. I mean at this point it's a good thing I even managed to go back to the apartment and get the rest of my life from my old place." You shrug. "I dunno if I should bother because like- it's not at if I'm moving in permanently."

"You could! I mean I have the extra bedroom, it's yours if you want it, you're already here. Why not?"

"We'll- talk about it later."

"OH! Where's the dress they bought you?! It's not like you could wear it with Bruce I'm sure. You could break it in now!" She says.

"It's in the other box." You point to where the dress should be and Wanda quickly pulls it out. The dress is a red floor-length off-shoulder number that looks as good now as it did when you saw it in the store. "I can't believe they bought me a dress because they liked my voice." You shake your head.

"I mean the dress is gorgeous. Put it on we have less than an hour before they're meant to arrive and you still have to decide on makeup and shoes and accessories." Wanda hands you the dress and you laugh at her frantic list as you take off your tank top and shorts to put on the dress.

"I need a different bra." You mutter.

"Do you have strapless bras?" She asks.

"Yeah I've got one- I actually hate it but I do have one." You say. You shuffle through a box until you find the bra and switch out your loungewear bra for the strapless. You shimmy on the dress and turn for Wanda to look at it. "Well? What do you think?"

"You know, exactly what looks good on you." She says with a nod.

"Lucky me since I didn't try it on before Bucky and Steve decided to purchase it." You muse.

"Okay, makeup. Do you wanna keep it simple and dramatize with accessories or go with dramatic makeup and keep the accessories simple?"

"I dunno I really like dramatic makeup." You hum throwing a t-shirt over the dress to do your makeup.

"So do dramatic makeup. We can give you a cute pair of earrings and one of those dainty necklaces of yours." She shrugs.

"The sun."

"What?"

"They gave me a sun necklace. Would it be too much to wear that and the dress they gave me? Too definitive on where we stand even though I have no idea how I feel about them?"

"Well it's gold, you'd have to match it with- wait what bag are you carrying?"

"I was gonna go with a black clutch."

"Is it black and gold or black and silver?"

"I have both."

"Well you have to go with the gold one."

"Okay." You laugh.

"Shoes? What shoes?"

"You can pick." You tell her.

"Are all your shoes in the closet?"

"Yes, those I unpacked." You tell her.

"Black heels. That way something in your outfit matches your bag." Wanda holds the shoes in question up. This particular pair of heels has gold detailing on the stiletto, a gift from your mother a couple of years ago.

"Perfect." You tell her. You finish your makeup and slide the shoes on. Your final makeup look is gold eyes and a red lip that matches your dress. You complete your look with the sun necklace and a pair of simple gold hoops.

"You look amazing!" Wanda gushes when you look over at her for a final assessment.

"Well, that's good since it's five after. They should be downstairs already." You say loading your clutch.

"I'll go down with you so I can let them know that if they mess this up I'll have their heads." Wanda says following you out of your room.

"These are mobsters Wanda please remember that before you threaten them."

"What they are is men taking my best friend out. Mobster or not I expect them to treat you perfectly and they should know there will be consequences if they don't."

"Do you intend to tell them you're a witch?" You ask her.

"Absolutely not. Then I lose the mystery factor that makes my threats that much scarier." She shakes her head and you laugh. When you exit the apartment building a man exits the vehicle parked right at the front and walks over to you.

"Miss y/n. Miss Wanda."

"Do we know you?" Wanda quirks an eyebrow at him.

"I'm Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes' driver. They're waiting in the car." The man explains leading you both over and opening the door. Steve gets out of the car to allow you to slide in between him and Bucky.

"Y/n, you look gorgeous." Steve kisses your hand and helps you into the car. Well, it's actually a truck, with tinted windows and spacious seats even with three of you in the back.

"Thank you Steve, hello Bucky." You say. When Steve settles back into his seat, Wanda sticks her head into the car before the driver can close the door.

"Gentlemen. Hello." Wanda smiles and you roll your eyes at her.

"Hello Wanda." They say in unison.

"I just want to make sure they we're all on the same page here. If y/n comes home with anything negative to say about this evening I will put you both in so much pain you won't even be able to scream. Are we clear?"

"We have no intention of seeing anything but happiness on y/n's face tonight Wanda, don't worry." Steve says kindly.

"Good. I will be holding you to that. Y/n, have a good night okay?"

"Thank you Wanda. I'll see you when I get back." You say. The driver waits for her to back up and then shuts the door before getting into the car.

"You look amazing y/n." Bucky says.

"Thank you Bucky." You nod. "Where are we going tonight?" You look between the two men.

"If it's okay with you we'd like to keep it a surprise." Steve says.

"Alright sure. I did give you permission to pick the place." You nod. You watch the streets of New York go by as you're driven through the city until eventually the car stops and the door is opened for you. Steve exits and holds a hand out to you to help you down from the car and then Bucky climbs out after you. Steve keeps his hand in yours and Bucky places one of his at the small of your back as the three of you enter one of the fanciest restaurants you've ever seen. Steve talks to the maitre d but you don't hear what he says, you're too busy looking around at the ornate interior of the place. Everyone in here is dressed to the nines, and despite knowing your outfit matches the environment, part of you feels out of place with the clientele of this place. You're all led to your table in a more secluded area of the restaurant. "This place is- very fancy." You say once you're seated and left alone by the maitre d.

"Are you uncomfortable? We can leave if you'd like." Bucky's voice is soft as he makes the offer.

"No, I'm fine. It was just an observation. I'll admit this isn't my usual scene but I am okay here. Thank you for checking though." You say.

"So this is one of those places that has a set menu, and they just bring out the courses for you once you've sat down. We thought it'd be simpler this way." Steve says.

"Oh okay. That's cool." You say. Just then a waiter brings your first course, a seafood tartlet.

"How have you been handling the new information y/n?" Steve asks.

"Which piece of new information are you referring to? Being a werewolf, my boyfriend lying to me for at least a year, you two being total stalkers, or the fact that your infatuation with me is totally out of your control?" You ask.

"All of it really. Whichever you want to talk about." Steve shrugs.

"Well, the werewolf thing is- somehow the least shocking bit of all of this honestly. That was pretty easy to accept, it didn't inherently change much for me, plus my mom has been pretty open to talking about it all so I at least have help navigating it."

"And- things with the hunter?" Bucky asks.

"I've moved all my stuff out of the apartment so as far as I'm concerned I'm done with him." You say.

"Can I ask what happened? How you, found out that we were right?" Steve asks. Your first course plates are then replaced with the entree which you miss the name of when it's brought but you enjoy the dish anyway.

"I called my mom about the werewolf thing and when I brought that up to him I just asked him if he knew and I could tell he was lying when he said no." You shrug. "It turned into a big dramatic blowout but the details aren't important really. He lied so I left. That's the moral of the story." 

"I'm sorry. That kind of betrayal can't be easy to deal with, and if you ever want to talk about it more we can lend an ear." Steve says.

"It is what it is, you live and you learn." You say.

"Just say the word and you'll never have to see him again." Bucky says.

"Hm that- sounds like a threat on his life." You muse and Bucky simply shrugs. "Is that just how it goes with mobsters?"

"When necessary." He says casually.

"Interesting. I have an unrelated question though, that I've been wondering about all week."

"What's that?" Steve asks.

"If this... werewolf infatuation with me, however it all works, is affecting both of you... am I expected to make a choice at some point here? Between the two of you, I mean."

"No. You don't have to." Bucky says.

"I don't have to? You'd be able to handle that kind of dynamic? Where I just, date both of you indefinitely or, permanently? Because if you're gonna like kill each other over this I don't want anything to do with either of you. I have no interest in being the subject of some sort of contest."

"We've done it before." Steve says.

"Oh so this is just normally how you date?" You ask.

"Well- it's not exactly our default no but, this isn't our first rodeo either." He chuckles.

"You don't think it'll cause problems? Not having me to yourself?" You ask curiously.

"Not at all." Steve says and you turn to Bucky who hums his agreement.

"We told you before, we share most things." Bucky says.

"Okay. Well as long as that's the truth, moving on. I know what you do for work, theoretically, so what do you do for fun?" You ask.

"Theoretically?" Steve quirks an eyebrow at you.

"I mean I've got an idea of what the whole mobster thing could entail yeah but it's not like you're gonna give me the details, are you?" You shrug.

"Do you want details?" He asks.

"We'll tell you anything you want to know." Bucky says.

"Anything? Really? You don't think I'm too innocent to know the inner workings of your crime empire?" Your question is kind of sarcastic but you are curious if they'd seriously tell you about it.

"As much as we want to protect you, we also know that if we want you to be part of our world you need to be prepared for what's in it." Steve says.

"If you choose us we want you as our equal y/n, in all things. Even our business." Bucky says placing a hand over yours.

"So- like I could be part of decision-making?" You ask, mostly to gauge how far this equal partner thing goes. Bucky and Steve glance at each other with a look you can't really interpret.

"If you want to be." Steve nods.

"It's that simple?" You ask skeptically.

"When it comes to you, things will always be as simple as if you want it, it's yours. We'll give you anything you ask of us. Always." Bucky says.

"You two are dangerously charming. Saying all the right things." You hum.

"We'll never make a promise we don't intend to keep." Steve says.

"That's easy to say now." You scoff.

"We know that hunter betrayed your trust in him, so we'll do whatever we need to, to gain your trust and we will treat it with the respect it deserves. The respect you deserve." Bucky says.

"I take it trust is very important to you? Especially with the kind of work you do." You say.

"Precisely." He nods.

"That's good to know." You hum. "So, hobbies. Do you have any or does work take up all your time?"

"We have a few hobbies. I like woodworking." Steve says.

"I like drawing and reading." Bucky says.

"We both do hunting." Steve offers.

"Like with guns or as wolves? Also is it just for sport or do you eat what you kill?"

"Why would we hunt with guns?" Bucky scoffs.

"I mean humans hunt for sport and obviously they use guns and since- I don't think we have the same dietary restrictions as like vampires I imagine there's nothing stopping you from just shooting things for fun because you can." You shrug and Steve chuckles. Your entree plates are then swapped out for a dessert, a layered slice of cake.

"We hunt as wolves. Usually, just things we can eat." Steve says.

"It's not really valuable to kill just for killing sake. We aren't monsters." Bucky offers.

"Monsters no but mobsters yes." You say and Bucky smirks.

"Hunting isn't work, it's a hobby." Steve says.

"Okay, hunting, woodworking, drawing, and reading. Anything else?"

"We- dedicate a lot of time to work. So, not really no." He shrugs.

"How do you intend to have a relationship if you're both basically married to your work?" You ask.

"We aren't married to it. We don't have much else to pour energy into yet so we dedicate our time to work but it's not the kind of thing that would take over our lives if you were in it." Steve shakes his head.

"How do you know?" You ask.

"The job hasn't always been our life." Steve says.

"And we have capable people working for us. We feel confident stepping away when we want to. There just hasn't been much worth pulling us away." Bucky says.

"Don't read into this question, I'm just trying to learn as much as I can so I make an informed decision at the end of tonight. Do you realistically believe I'd be worth pulling you away from work?"

"We already know so." Steve says immediately. Bucky pulls out a phone from his pocket and places it on the table.

"This phone only calls your security detail. They are the only ones with the number." Bucky says.

"Sorry, are you still having me followed?!" You blink at him. Your gaze snaps between the two men. "I want an answer and it better be the truth." You say when neither of them speaks.

"We don't trust your ex." Steve says.

"That is not the question I asked you." You frown.

"Not... fully." Bucky says.

"Not fully?"

"They aren't following you like before they just check in." Bucky says.

"I don't need your men to check in on me. That's ridiculous. You make it sound like I'm in danger." You say.

"We won't call them off. I know you don't like them but we have to take precautions especially because you've been seen with us. We- have enemies and we will not leave you vulnerable to them." Steve says firmly.

"I don't like this. But I also don't like being an exposed target so- I'll yield." You say crossing your arms.

"Thank you." He says quietly.

"I have one last question, and then we can call it a night." You say.

"Anything you want to know." Bucky says.

"Since you guys have been like- basically stalking me for a few months is there anything you don't know about me? I feel like I'm at quite the disadvantage here."

"We didn't do a deep dive into your personality or anything. We really just know general things, your job, your old address, age, birthday, and some things we could observe like that you'd rather walk than take a cab and you'll sooner call someone than send a text, and at work when the store's empty and you're reading at the counter your face gives away all of your thoughts when you're enraptured." Bucky says.

"Woah." You mutter.

"We don't know much, not anything that anyone who worked with you wouldn't be able to find out but you learn a lot from observation." Steve says.

"Clearly."

"Any last questions y/n?" Bucky asks.

"What do you want out of this? Out of me?"

"We want to make you happy. Whatever that means." Steve says.

"No, I want you to be selfish with your answer, not diplomatic. What do you want out of this? What is the ideal outcome in your minds? If you two were writing this story, how would it end?" You ask. There's a pregnant pause as you're sure Steve considers another careful answer.

"We'd marry you. Devote our entire lives to you and in turn, you'd do the same. You'd come into our world, learn every bit of information and run it all with us. You'd walk into every room with us on either side of you. You could say jump and everyone under us would ask how high. In my version of the story, we make you a queen, adored by all. It doesn't all have to be tomorrow but that is how it ends." Bucky says. Steve sighs at the end of Bucky's answer. You're quiet for a long moment as you consider his words. It's dramatic and intense and realistically it should scare you because from anyone else it would come off as psychotic.

"Is it always like this with you two?" You ask after a while.

"What?" Steve asks.

"Steve you're more calculated with your words, everything you say is meticulous, thought out. While Bucky, you seem to be a little more impulsive. If you open your mouth you will say exactly what it is you're thinking, it's why you don't talk as much as Steve, right? You're more likely to say something reckless and Steve stresses when he thinks your words might cause trouble. The if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all rule." You explain. Steve and Bucky blink at you with clear shock on their faces. "You two aren't the only ones with observational skills." You say proudly.

"That is impressive." Steve muses.

"If she chooses never to see us again after this Steve I will never date another person. I simply can't imagine settling for less, because anyone else would be less." Bucky says to Steve which makes him chuckle and you giggle.

"To answer your question, yes that is usually how things are." Steve says.

"So what happens now?" Bucky asks.

"Now, I'd like you to take me home." You say standing up. Steve and Bucky follow your lead. Steve tosses bills on the table as Bucky walks you towards the door with his hand at your back. By the time you step outside the car you came in is waiting at the curb and the driver is standing by the door. Bucky helps you into the car before getting in behind you, while Steve pulls the door on the other side open and slides in, sandwiching you between them. The drive back to Wanda's is pretty much quiet, only once the car stops in front of her building and the driver gets out does one of them speak.

"Will we see you again?" Steve asks. The driver opens Bucky's side of the car and he steps out to help you out of the car.

"I only promised you one date." You say. "But, if you leave me with the best way to contact you, we'll see." You take Bucky's hand and climb down from the car.

"Your phone." Bucky says. You unlock the device and hand it to him. He inputs his number and then Steve's and gives it back to you.

"Goodnight boys. Tonight was nice." You say.

"Goodnight y/n." Steve says.

"Goodnight." Bucky nods getting back into the car. They watch you walk into the building and don't pull off until you're in the elevator. When you enter the apartment, quietly in case Wanda is asleep, you kick off your heels and let out a sigh.

"How was it? Tell me everything!" Wanda comes rushing down the hall and nearly gives you a heart attack.

"Fucking hell were you just waiting for the door to open?" You ask her clutching your chest.

"Obviously. You went on a date with two super hot werewolf crime lords I won't be able to do anything until you tell me about it!" She says pulling you to the couch excitedly.

"It was great Wanda. They're a little intense honestly, but they were perfect gentlemen and answered all my questions even though I basically spent the night interrogating them. I think I like them." You bite your lip shyly.

"Where did you go?"

"Dinner at some really fancy place. One of those restaurants with a set menu where each course is predetermined and it probably costs like a hundred dollars per person."

"Impressive." She nods.

"Everything with them is. They are-"

"Don't say too good to be true." Wanda points at you.

"I was going to say a surprise actually but too good to be true might be the reality. They talk about me being their equal in all things, like their business, and about making me queen of their empire and devoting themselves to me. It's a little love bomb-y."

"It's only love bomb-y if they can't keep the same energy. Some people just love that intensely and I'd say the fact that they've spent months adoring you without really any promise of reciprocation suggests that's just how they are. Plus werewolves are dedicated partners by nature, I mean it makes sense. Sure it's intense for someone that didn't know they were a werewolf a month ago and it's okay to be cautious, especially after Bruce, but I already told you they're not ill-intentioned." She shrugs.

"All very true things."

"So you'll see them again?"

"I'd like to." You nod.

"Oooo I'm so happy for you!" She squeals jumping up.

"Wanda calm down." You laugh but nothing could possibly chill her out now. Things are changing for the better quickly and Wanda has always been the biggest advocate for whatever makes you the happiest.

***

Part 8/???

Tagged Users: @cjand10 @vicmc624 @mandijo17

[ur-friendly-nbhd-cardassian]

Hello there!

a little "about me" post

my art

♡ My AO3 ♡ My Ko-fi ♡ My Cara ♡ My Pillowfort ♡ My Wattpad ♡

I'm a very long-winded person and when I like doing something, I like doing A LOT of it. I have a lot of fandoms, I like pretty art and cats, I write and muse about stuff - it's all a huge mess if I put it in one place. So that's why I decided to split my obsessions into several neat piles, so people could have an easier time deciding whether to follow, ignore or block my stuff according to their preferences.

Order an OC commission on my Ko-fi ♡

Here are my blogs which you're free to explore and follow as you like:

» ur-friendly-nbhd-cardassian

The main blog where I shout into nothingness. But where I also post lots of Star Trek, mainly about Cardassians (bc I love them). I do not do Garashir, tho, look for that particular bit elsewhere (not bc I don't ship them, but bc I'm severely overfed to the point of having an allergic rection). My focus Cardassian is Damar, followed by Dukat. I'm super open to reblogging your OCs, though. My other favorite fandoms you might come across on this blog (which I don't post enough about to make a separate blog): Mass Effect, Discworld, Tolkien, Detroit: Become Human, Apex Legends, Marvel/DC, Hunger Games. I also ramble, post about writing in general, reblog some fitting memes and pets/animals, share my own photography, reblog art etc.

» pixie-in-a-moonlantern

The initiated already know: Baldur's Gate 3 brainrot blog. I post my OC screenshots, my own and reblogged fanfiction, reblog A LOT of blorbos (Halsin, Gortash, Raphael,..), whether it's art or headcanons. I do not have any VP tools, so my screens are only lightly edited to be prettier, and that's it. I prefer to avoid posting negative stuff, so it's just batshit obsession and thoughts.

» shaved-wampa

Diehard fans surely got the joke: Star Wars brainrot, and that goes for every conceivable piece of the fandom, even the bits you might not agree with - I don't discriminate. My all-time favorites are: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bode Akuna. Yes, just the two, because I also have a huge pile of characters I love, but don't really focus on: Padmé, Ahsoka, Ventress, Plo Koon, Kit Fisto, Din Djarin, lil Grogu, Cody, infinite number of other Clones, ... soooo many. My top two are just the guys I actually write about. Bode's and Obi-Wan's fics are unfortunately on hold right now (sigh).

» cyber-vianne-77

As the name suggests, this is my Cyberpunk 2077 blog. I used to do a lot of virtual photography in that one - and yes, this time I mean real VP, though still no paid tools, just vanilla and free mods. I love Goro Takemura and ship my fem V with him heavily - wrote a dope fanfiction about them called 'Broken' (and following parts 'Gimme Danger' and 'Last Caress'). I reblog other cp77 vp (especially of Goro) and fanart. I don't currently play the game or shoot photos, but I have a large collection I plan to drizzle over the next few months, until I maybe decide to go back to cp77 for a while again and finally play Phantom Liberty that's been waiting for me for a long time now xD.

» sergeant-sassy

A mix of obsessions with one man in common: John Hopkins, a British actor :). Seen in Midsomer Murders and lately heard in various games as a voice actor. I've fallen for him for the first time 20 years ago - and he returned to me as Erend in Horizon games (Zero Dawn & Forbidden West). I love the games and its characters and take a lot of screenshots, too :). So it's a weird dump of Ereloy, Kotaloy (because Noshir) and Midsomer Murders :3

» goodness-all-around

My "assorted dopeness" reblogs. It's getting 0 attention so I just usually post shit to cardassian or to my private collection to avoid overflowing my main.

I will update the list if I happen to change things or add/remove blogs. Thanks for your attention and see you in the activity notifs! 💛

Bits of trivia: I'm Czech, cis woman (bi & poly and, frankly, hyper), 32, in a relationship, mom to a 5yo boy, a writer struggling to finish and publish her first original novel, drowning her sorrows in fanfic instead :). I got to most of my fandoms quite late in life, because where I live this info only started to properly flow in with the coming of the internet. I'm usually a casual fan, though when I hit a gold vein I can get a bit obsessed. I love writing fanfiction, which is mostly why I'm here on this site. I self-insert a lot (therapy writing) and usually ship us, with the rare occasion of finding a couple where I can identify with one of them (or mold them to my image because I like or even fancy them). I've spent my life believing I was hetero and discovered I'm not only once I (finally) was in a hetero relationship and had a kid, so... my ships are also hetero. It's a habit, not hating, I don't discredit any gay ships (maybe quietly to myself when they don't make any sense to me character-wise, lol). My AO3 account: XindiChick I usually try to write even the most niche of my ships in a way that doesn't require much knowledge of the original, so you're welcome to browse and read to your heart's content if you happen to like my style. I welcome any interactions, especially comments, because I don't get many.

I think it's something everyone should always be aware of, but I've also seen many people ignoring this unsaid rule:

HATERS NEED NOT INTERACT

- lest they get blocked. I'm not here to argue with you about why I like certain characters and why you think I shouldn't. Go simp for your own top picks on your own blogs and leave me alone. Same goes for any of my personal trivia I shared.

Also:

DISCLAIMER: My blogs are a safe space for everyone who doesn't go around hating on everyone else. I will block indiscriminantly assholes of every shape, color, faith, gender, orientation etc., just as I will happily interact with good people of any kind. Idc what your deal is, I just wanna enjoy being on this platform, so if you plan to rain on it, don't expect me to indulge you.

Icons by: @rpschtuff

By the way, a fun fact known only to people aware of my main fanfic novel, The Casualty, the Cardassian in my username was actually born Bajoran, but raised Cardassian, which is why she's a Cardassian in heart and spirit. She's your friendly reminder that not all Cardies are the same and as a nation have the capacity to be much better than how they were presented in the DS9, which is what she's trying to achieve.

[ariesmusingz]

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა    ╱    THE OFFICE SENTENCE STARTERS ( created using s1 ep1 of the office. feel free to adjust to fit your muse. )

"how are things going at the library?"

"i couldn't close it"

"so you've come to the master for guidance?"

"is that what you're saying"

"you called me in here"

"let me show you how it's done"

"i'd like to speak to your office manager"

"i'm sorry, my mistake"

"she had a very low voice"

"probably a smoker"

"so this is my kingdom"

"if you think she's cute now you should have seen her a couple of years ago"

"any messages?"

"how many times have i told you that there's a special filing cabinet for things from corporate?"

"people say i'm the best boss"

"i'm boring myself just talking about this"

"he still loves that after seven years"

"was there anything you wanted to add to the agenda?""i'm sorry, what?"

"i didn't get an agenda"

"i faxed it over to you this morning"

"did we get a fax this morning?"

"why isn't it in my hand?"

"a company runs on efficiency of communication?"

"why didn't i get it?"

"you put it in the garbage can"

"that was a joke"

"that was actually my brother's"

"do you want to look at mine?"

"we haven't made any decisions yet"

"it's up to either you or him to convince me"

"this does mean there is going to be downsizing"

"it is a real bitch"

"i certainly wouldn't wish it or my men or women"

"how long do we have?"

"do you mind if i take it?"

"that's not appropriate"

"i don't know what you mean"

"i've been meaning to ask her one question"

"that's horrifying"

"do you think you can keep a lid on this for now?"

"don't want to worry people unnecessarily"

"it will not leave this office"

"guilty as charged"

"right here, my vibe"

"that's a guy thing"

"i don't think it would be the worst thing if they let me go"

"i don't think it's many girl's dream to be a receptionist"

"i like to do illustrations, mostly water colour"

"let me call you right back"

"i can't concentrate"

"it's not your desk"

"one word, two syllables: demarcation"

"safety violation"

"i could fall and pierce an organ"

"i have no problem with that"

"i even brought it up on my interview"

"i say bring it on"

"you still have messages for yesterday"

"relax, everything is under control"

"that's important, right"

"i should run to answer it"

"that would be a good salary for me, don't you think?"

"just be professional"

"i think i am a role model here"

"i think i garner other people's respect"

"please can we have a meeting in the conference room?"

"it's really beyond words"

"it's really incalculable"

"i know there's some kind of rumours out there"

"i should know first"

"can you just tell please?"

"just a whisper in my ear"

"i'm about to tell everybody"

"do you want me to tell them?"

"you don't know what it is"

"you can tell them with my permission"

"permission granted, go ahead"

"corporate has deemed it appropriate to enforce an ultimatum upon me"

"it's my first day so i really don't know"

"it could be out of your hands"

"it won't be out of my hands"

"can you promise that?"

"yeah it is a promise and frankly i'm a little insulted that you have to keep asking"

"she did say that it could be this branch"

"maybe you should stick to the ongoing confidentiality agreement of meetings"

"information is power"

"so you can't say for sure whether it's us or them?"

"you did not see me in there"

"i'm the head of this family and you ain't gonna be messing with my children"

"yeah, he's onto me"

"watch out for this guy!"

"nice to meet you"

"introduce yourself, be polite"

"that is his profit!"

"i've got some photos"

"judge is in session"

"he put my stuff in jello again"

"that's real professional, thanks"

"that is the third time and it wasn't funny the first time"

"people are taking advantage because it's so relaxed"

"you have to eat it out of there"

"you can be witness"

"can you reprimand him please?"

"how do you know it was me?"

"are you going to discipline him or not?"

"ooh discipline, kinky!"

"i'm sorry cause i've always been your biggest flan"

"you should have put him in custard-y"

"yes, the new guy! he scores"

"what i'm most concerned with is damage to company property"

"do you wanna go out at the end of the week for a drink?"

"when are we going out?"

"we've been engaged about three years"

"do you mind if i go out for a drink with these guys?"

"let's get out of here and go home"

"we are going out and it could be a good chance for you to see what people are like outside the office"

"just tell her i'll talk to her then"

"do i think I'll be invited to the wedding?"

"sometimes we play hard when we should be working hard"

"i am a friend first and a boss second. probably an entertainer third"

"you are going to be my accomplice"

"just follow my lead"

"can you come in here for a sec?"

"just have a seat"

"i was gonna call you in anyway"

"you have made my life so much easier in that i am going to have to let you go first"

"what am i supposed to have stolen?"

"what are those worth?"

"you steal a thousand post it notes then you've made a profit margin"

"are you serious?"

"i can't believe this"

[crmsndragonwngss]

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A post shared by Jesse Cash (@jesse_cash)

Jesse Cash and Ghost Atlas:

Album is already out now! Made this last night, so I'm posting late.

But I felt compelled to speak about this thing I put so much of myself into and love so much.

Please excuse the sound of the dishwasher

(via Instagram) (full transcript under the cut)

Jesse Cash:

Hey.  So, tonight is the night that, uh, my Ghost Atlas record finally comes out.  Um, I'm going to try to trim the fat on this, but I'm not going to make it too much of a priority to keep it short, to be honest.  So, if you stick around, you're a -- you're a real one.  Thanks.

Um, I just, uh -- it was a long time coming.  I mean, I know I've been talking about this record for, god, over two years now.  And, um, it just feels so good that it's finally out.  I, um -- I got to say, this one is my favorite.  This is -- this is the one.  This is the record that I feel most proud of.  Um, it's very -- it's very vulnerable, nowadays, to share music.  It's become something I've grown increasingly neurotic about.  It's -- it's part of what took this record so long to -- to come out, because I was just constantly changing, and adding, and finessing, and trying to get things dialed in right.  And it just never felt finished to me, and I never felt like I could be satisfied with it.  And that's become a bit of a curse, in recent years, that I get kind of fixated on, and -- um, it's just -- it's just, like, hard -- it's hard, these days, to share music.  It just feels like such a vulnerable act, and um, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, uh, you know, a bit attuned to -- to criticism, especially when it mirrors my own insecurities that I may have about things that I make. 

What's so -- with that said, what's so wonderful about this record, and the magic that I've already found in this record, even before it's come out, is that I don't think anything could -- could hurt me, as far as critical perspective, or uh, you know, like -- I don't think I can be hurt over this one.  I just -- I love it that much.  And I love the way it sounds.  I love -- I love the mix that Joseph McQueen did with it.  And I just -- I'm just so proud of it.  Yeah.  I don't know. 

These songs are so, like -- at times, uncomfortably personal.  I think that's why I love this project so much, because it's -- it's like, I love being able to do Erra, I love being in a collaborative space with -- with my community [laughs].  Like, the band is my community.  Like, we're friends and I could never give up that space, as far as -- but as far as the musical creative space, like, with Ghost Atlas, it's just so -- it's, like, everything to me.  It's just so me.  Um, and sometimes that is weirdly painful, because I think I have a tendency to entangle myself in this stuff that I make.  And as Conor put it to me [laughs], maybe fly too close to the sun when it comes to sort of engaging in the darker musings of the human experience, so -- so to speak [laughs].  It sounds very pretentious, but I don't -- I apologize.  Um, I'm just -- yeah.  I really hope you guys like it. 

I actually wrote -- before -- before the record that you -- that you have here, uh, I wrote a first record, got about eight songs into it, and I showed, uh, Josh Gilbert and Joseph McQueen, who I did the record with.  And we were doing pre-pro demos, and I was like -- I was like, "Guys, I have a feeling this is not my best stuff.  I -- I have a feeling that -- [laughs] that I didn't do my best.  Like, these aren't the best songs.  What do you think?"  And they essentially were supportive, and were like, "Oh no, they're great.  You know, like, I don't know if there's, like, a single or if anything's really sticking out the way that the last one did.  But, like, yeah, I don't know."  And like, just that sort of response kind of told me everything I needed to know, and I just threw that record away [laughs], and we made a new record. 

So I, uh -- I followed my gut.  That's part of what took this thing so long to come together, is, uh, I followed my gut, and put those songs aside, started from scratch, wrote all new songs.  Some of the songs that were salvaged from that first throwaway record were, um -- uh, I know a very early stage of Lesser Gods without any layering, Bedsheet Torniquet, and In the House of Leaves.  Those were the ones that were from the previous record.  But everything else I just overhauled.  It was very important to me to get this thing right and, by god, I think I did it.  I, um -- I'm so proud of this thing.  Fuck. 

Anyways, I hope you guys like it.  Um, I really do.  It's, like, so -- it's important -- it's important to me, you know.  But -- but, like I -- like I said, you can't hurt me with this one [laughs].  But -- but, uh, I really do hope you guys enjoy it.  And, uh, thanks for sitting through my long, vulnerable video.  I'm a very -- I'm a [laughs] very happy boy right now.

[end of transcript]

[confessionsofa-roleplayer]

I need some advice, please.

How should I handle this situation? I have an rp partner who I've been rping with for over a year now. Things were great for a while. They were responsive and we talked a lot ooc, plotted, rped together a lot. We were having a great time.

And then it feels like out of nowhere they backed away from me a lot. They started heavily investing in one muse who I don't rp with and have tried to rp with, but it didn't work out. Now all they do is focus on that one muse, essentially excluding me. Our threads and plots between all our muses get ignored, or it takes weeks to months to get a single response, where they are responding to everyone else without days or even hours. I have talked with them about this multiple times, only to be shrugged off or told they're busy or don't have time, but they always have time for everyone else except for me.

It hurts a lot. I don't know what to do. I feel like they are lying to me and telling me they enjoy my muse and our threads just to placate me, when their actions clearly show otherwise. I can't even tell you how many times I've cried over this, as silly as that might sound. I don't know what I did wrong; the only thing I can guess is that because my muse don't worship this one muse of theirs, I no longer matter.

How would you handle this situation? Do I just unfollow and block and move on? I thought we were friends. I'm very hurt by this.

Thank you.

First - do you mind if I offer you a hug, Anon? I'm so sorry you're hurting. I've been where you are and I know how much it hurts - especially the first time it happens. I want to start with this - while I don't know your partner, I can almost guarantee that they really do still care about your muse and the threads you share. I know it doesn't feel that way because they've moved on to something new. But speaking as someone who's had this happen before, it's not that your partner is lying to you, it's just that something else has grabbed their full attention.

Some people - for various reasons - don't have the capacity to focus on more than one or two things at a time and/or they hyper-focus on one very specific thing. They really can't help themselves. But that doesn't mean they don't still enjoy the stuff they're not currently focused on. Your partner just has another focus right now. They might go back to their old focus at some point, or they might not. In my personal experience, however, they usually don't. And if that's the case with your partner, then I'm very sorry.

I've had several partners like this, and I really just had to learn to 'go with the flow.' I mean - I also could've dropped them, but they were friends in addition to being my writing partners, so I tried my best to follow along with whatever their New Interest™ was, and if it was something I was able to write with them, then I did that to the best of my ability. Once or twice I even made new muses that better fit into my partner's new interests. And I had fun. Was it the same as writing the old RPs? No, not at all. But we created all new things together. I still miss the old things, but I also love the new things, too.

I know that's probably not exactly the answer you were looking for, Anon. But I really think this just depends on you. Is this partner a friend beyond RP? If so, blocking and moving on probably isn't the way to go. If you need to take a break from them, but don't want to burn bridges, you could ask for a hiatus from all of your threads together for awhile, and maybe blacklist them in the meantime? It never hurts to give your brain (and your emotions) a breather when you feel like you need them.

The TLDR version of my advice, I guess, is this - if you value this person as a friend, then don't do anything rash while your emotions are high. Don't do anything you might decide you want to undo later because some things can't be undone.

Do our followers have anything they'd like to add/suggest?

~ Mod MJ ~

[ghostfaceaddams]

It's the Great Pumpkin, Santana Lopez

Part Two

summary: Santana works to win the school costume contest with Quinn.

warnings: Santana remarks, she attacks JBI, Puck has a fake machete.

word count: 3,234

“Hey Pink!"

Santana turned and burst into a wide smile as Quinn came bounding up to her, all decked out in her Sandy Olsson getup. They greeted each other with a quick kiss (flipping off the hockey and football players in the process). Santana ran her hands along Quinn's waist to the small of her back, her eyes glued to Quinn's cleavage.

Quinn bit her lip in a lustful smirk. Part of the reason she agreed to the costume idea was so she could distract Santana in the classes they had together (if she was lucky, Santana would take her before Judy got home). She placed her hands on Santana's sides and absentmindedly started brushing her fingers there, sending shivers down Santana's spine.

"I don't think you're too pure to pink after all." Santana mused, her eyes huge.

Quinn laughed and hit Santana in the arm playfully.

"Keep staring like that Rizzo and I'll have to take you in the choir room."

"Really?" Santana's eyes were huge and her voice resembled that of a kids after saying they were going to King's Island.

"Santana! No! Anyone could walk in, especially Mr.Schue."

Santana frowned and tangled her fingers with Quinn's hands.

"You know how many times I've fantasized about us fucking on the piano." Santana pouted quietly.

Quinn shook her head in an attempt to rid her mind of the dirty fantasies Santana projected. Santana smirked, knowing full well the effect she had on her girlfriend.

"Get your stuff and walk me to class." Quinn ordered.

Santana straightened up and saluted Quinn earning a bubbly giggle from Quinn.

Sometimes it scared Quinn how happy Santana made her. It was almost as if her happiness depended on Santana or Santana's happiness. (It didn't, just sometimes Santana made her so groundbreaking-ly happy that it warranted some concern.)

"Aye aye Captain." Santana smiled charmingly.

Quinn admired Santana in her buttoned up black shirt that had the top two buttons undone. Her eyes outlined her girlfriends glorious biceps down to her scandalous legs.

"You're a dork." Quinn snorted as Santana closed her locker.

Santana slung her Pink Ladies jack over the crook of her arm. They joined hands and began their trek down the boisterous halls of McKinley.

"Careful Fabray, you only get away with comments like that because you're my girlfriend."

Quinn leaned in close to Santana, almost bumping them into a couple of lousy teens. Her voice was low and husky and matched her "innocent" smile.

"I get away with a lot because I'm your girlfriend." Her hot breath tickled Santana's ear.

Quinn smirked as Santana tripped over her feet. A few brave souls glanced at them to see what was happening and were awarded with Santana's death glare.

They made it to Quinn's first period class (economics) where Santana walked Quinn to her seat. Santana draped her arms around Quinn's neck, barracking Quinn's gaze. When the school first found out about the couple, they had been scandalized; half of them didn't expect it and the other half were revolted. But once you see a baby come out of your girlfriends sacred girlfriend, it kind of puts things into perspective. So they kinda said screw it and just showed up to school junior year hand in hand with Santana walking Quinn to class and public displays of affection. Turns out they were pretty affectionate. Quinn's economics class was used to this by now.

"If anyone makes any moves on you or ogles you, just text me. I'll go all Lima Heights on their perverted asses."

Quinn scoffed and slid her arms comfortably around Santana's waist. Santana unconsciously melted into her girlfriends warm embrace.

It was their one problem with their costumes: jealousy. Quinn just took it out by aggressive making out (and aggressive sex later). Santana's methods were a little less healthy. (She actually broke a dudes nose over summer break for just saying hi to Quinn a little too warmly.)

"I don't think that'll be necessary San." Quinn mused lightly.

"Promise me Quinn. Just humor me." Santana flitted her eyes up and rolled her head restlessly.

Quinn squeezed Santana's sides to gain her attention and pulled her closer. Santana's vulnerable eyes glanced up to meet Quinn's security blanket ones.

"I promise."

Then Quinn leaned down and softly kissed Santana to prove that it wasn't necessary but she would tell her because she knew Santana had a phobia of abandonment. The kiss soon heated up. Quinn still wasn't a fan of people watching them but with her lips on Santana with her girlfriend holding her, she felt protected from the universe and all its unfair problems.

"Miss Lopez, you're going to be late for your class. Again."

Miss Wilcowski reminded the young couple as Rosie O'Donnell but with short hair and a cat lady.

"See ya later hot stuff." Santana pecked Quinn one last time and then was off.

Quinn turned and sat down in her seat.

"Say, Miss Wilcowski, you're looking absolutely-"

"Save it Lopez."

Quinn laughed from her seat and quickly covered her mouth in a weak attempt to hide it from Santana. Even though she didn't comment on it or look back, she knew Santana heard.

"You're my hero!" Santana shouted then hurried out of the classroom.

Antagonizing Quinn's economics teacher was something Santana enjoyed a little too much.

"Two more years." Miss Wilcowski grumbled.

*****

They were peacefully walking to Glee Club (or as peaceful as you can walk in a loud, overpacked hallway with annoying teenagers) when Puck came running up behind them and pretended to stab them with a fake machete.

Santana was laughing up a storm and was congratulating her best man with a high five. Quinn glared at Puck and punched him in his arm.

"What the hell Puck?"

"What's wrong Blondie, you scared?" Puck slid his Jason mask back on and raised the machete in her face.

Quinn found her way back to Santana's side and grabbed her hand as if it was second nature.

"Don't worry baby, I'll protect you." Santana cooed in a baby voice.

"You're both asses." They laughed at the blonde and entered the choir room. "How'd you even get that in here? You could get expelled for that and then we'll be disqualified from Sectionals."

"Relax Baby Mamma, I won't get caught. As long as no one snitches." He fixed them both with raised eyebrows warningly and pointed at everyone who was present in the choir room.

"Call my girlfriend Baby Mamma one more time Puckerman and I'll cut your dick off so you never impregnate another woman again." Santana threatened.

Puck raised her hands in surrender and sat back in his seat. Santana rolled her eyes, her hand gripping Quinn's a little too firmly (she was starting to loose blood circulation).

When Quinn had gotten pregnant, her and Santana had broken up. It was a stupid fight that they both regretted, but they had foolishly broken up and Quinn was heartbroken. So she went to Puck to try and get back at Santana. The plan was to just make out a little. But then she got drunk and one thing led to another. Santana had been heartbroken after finding out Quinn was pregnant (which of course was expected), but Quinn kept the father a secret. Until Rachel blabbed her mouth and lets just say they were going for a record of breaking up in one year.

(Through it all, Santana was always there for Quinn. Even after she found out her girlfriend got pregnant by her best friend while they were broken up, she still got Quinn whatever she wanted. Quinn specifically remembers one time when Santana buying bacon for Quinn with a scowl on her face. That's when she realized that Santana was the only one for her. Sure she was pregnant at 16 and Santana was really the only person she dated, but it was enough to know that Santana was her person. It was like it was tattooed on her soul.)

Santana had forgiven them both (Quinn first since she was her best friend and love of her life, plus those puppy eyes she kept sending Santana was her kryptonite) but she didn't like to be reminded about it. Quinn could talk about Beth all she wanted and how gutted she still felt to this day, but when Puck was brought up things got sour.

They sat down in their seats in front of Puck and waited for Mr. Schue to arrive. To pass the time (and to slightly rub it in Puck's face) Santana cradles Quinn's legs on her lap and started making out. If there was one room Quinn felt free and safe to be affectionate with her girlfriend with (aside from their bedrooms), it was the choir room.

"You guys are disgusting." Lauren remarked from beside Puck.

"I think they're cute." Tina defended the couple.

"And what are you suppose to be? A poster for Do Not Do It, It Gets Better signs?" Santana shot back, ignoring Tina's comment.

Quinn trailed her fingers down Santana's arm, admiring every inch of her. She was just going to let Santana and Lauren duke it out until Mr. Schue came in.

"Hey Quinn." Brittany smiled animatedly.

Quinn slid her legs off of Santana's lap and angled her body towards her best friend. Santana's hand blindly searched for Quinn's until the blonde's fingers brushed the tips of hers.

Brittany had on a kid version of a Catwoman suit so Quinn assumed the go lucky blonde was shooting for a regular cat and not the sexy superhero. She even had a headband of cat ears on and whiskers drawn on her face.

"Hey Britt. You look amazing."

"Obviously. I look better than everyone here."

Quinn laughed and nodded her head along. She wasn't sure about that but she wasn't about to burst the jolly girl's bubble.

"Hey, hey. Hello. Excuse me. Just because your stalker of a girlfriend went overboard with her costume," Quinn had to laugh because that was rich coming from Santana. "Doesn't mean you get to flake out on this sacred holiday."

Finn looked to the side in that confusing way of his with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"I didn't."

"Really? Then where's your Frankenstein costume?" Santana was becoming more annoyed by the second.

"I'm a football player." Finn said it like it was obvious.

"A-a football played? Please tell me you're kidding-Berry tell me your neanderthal boyfriend is kidding."

Quinn leaned in closer to Brittany and watched her girlfriend get all worked up. It was honestly quite adorable when Santana tore into people over their costumes. Sure Santana was a little obsessive when it came to Halloween (and by a little Quinn means a lot, a lot a lot a LOT), but it had its cute, wholesome moments.

"He's not." Rachel seemed just as disappointed in her boyfriend as Santana was.

"I'm Aaron Rodgers. See?" Finn pointed to his jersey.

It was green with two yellow stripes on the arms. The number 12 was in bold white letters on the front and back with RODGERS in the same lettering on the back. Finn turned to put his jersey on full display, smiling goofily the whole time.

At first Santana just sat there with her mouth hanging low. Then she clamped it shut and shook her head. She started muttering some things in Spanish under her breath, nothing Quinn could understand. (After growing up with the Lopez's Quinn had taken it upon herself to learn Spanish.) Quinn about fell out of her seat and onto Brittany's lap when Santana jerked Rachel into the empty seat beside her. It was the last seat in the row meaning Finn couldn't sit with Rachel.

"You're going to sit in the corner and think about a better costume idea for tomorrow night." Santana was pointing to the other side of the room in the back room, her eyes purposefully looking away from Finn.

The tall boy opened up and closed his mouth a few times (Quinn just knew Santana was dying to make a fish joke) then stumbled off in that direction. He plopped down next to Mike and looked at him questioningly. The innocent man just shrugged.

Santana molded herself into Quinn's side and shook her head.

"Men. What are they good for?" Santana muttered.

Quinn laughed and kissed Santana on the side of her head. Santana crinkled her nose in disgust but Quinn knew it was just for show. She still had to maintain some badass status in the school.

"Wow guys! You all are looking sharp. I'm impressed." Mr. Schue clapped his hands once and turned his proud father smile on them all.

Santana shot Quinn a proud, excited smirk that rearranged Quinn’s insides. Quinn shook her head but smile nonetheless.

Rachel was dressed as Fanny Brice (of course), Tina was a goth vampire, Mike was dressed as Ren McCormack at the end of Footloose (and boy did he look good), Sam was decked out in Bruce Springsteen attire, Mercedes was killing it as Batgirl, and Artie was mirroring Professor X.

Mr. Schue was dressed as Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. The three Cheerios had seen Sue dressed as Nicki Minaj in the halls earlier.

Mr. Schue went to speak just for the intercom to come crackling on. Everyone grimaced or covered their ears from the intense crackling. Brittany covered her cat ears.

“Hello? Hello? Is this thing on? Hello, students and faculty of William McKinley High. You have all submitted your Halloween Costumes to Miss Pillsbury, those of you who have attended this competition.”

The glee club erupted in applause. Santana planted a passionate kiss on Quinn’s lips causing Rachel to scoot her seat away. The whole school had participated in the costume competition but Santana was confident in them winning. The Latina had come in top ten her freshmen year and last year won with Puck as Chucky and the Bride of Chucky. This year she was determined to win with Quinn.

“Before I give the results, to the boy in the hockey mask terrorizing the student body, I ask you to stop or you will be caught.” Quinn turned around and glared at Puck. “Now, I would like to go over a few guidelines for those trick or treating Sunday.”

The walls of the school practically shook from the student body groaning. Mr. Figgins started going over the guidelines that they should go in pairs or with an adult, not to go up to houses without the light on, and to, “Be aware of razor blades hidden in candy.”

Mercedes cocked her head to the side and scrunched up her nose.

“I thought that was a myth.” Artie voiced.

“Also, as the leaders of our future, the faculty of William McKinley, and your parents, advise you to not throw any Halloween bangers this weekend.” Santana, Puck, and Sam all sniggered earning hits from Quinn, Lauren, and Mercedes. “Your safety is our number one priority.”

Figgins cleared his throat and was heard pulling a piece of paper out (with some difficulty).

“Now, for the long, awaited, results.” There was a dramatized pause.

“Oh get on with it!” Santana shouted at the intercom.

“Santana.” Mr. Schue said softly but sternly.

Quinn placed a calming hand on Santana’s knee. This was one of Santana’s not so cute moments. The Latina sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically.

“This is bull-“

“In third place we have Rachel Berry as Miss Fanny Brice.”

“What? This was handmade, I even got it dry cleaned!” Rachel exclaimed.

“Can it hobbit.” Santana snapped.

Rachel did her signature pout and crossed her arms defiantly. Santana had migrated to the edge of her seat and was staring lasers into the intercom.

“In second place, we have a couples costumes. With a new take on Rizzo and Sandy from Grease, we have teenage lesbians Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray.”

‘Figgins needs to learn to stop misidentifying sexualities.’ Quinn thought to herself. Just because they were two females in a relationship and Santana was a lesbian didn’t mean Quinn was. Or anyone else for that matter.

“What?” Santana flew out of her seat like a rocket taking off. Her chair tipped over in her wake.

“Here we go.” Mercedes tossed her hand up, remembering when they had lost the couples duet (which Santana still was mad at Sam for even though he understood he just wasn’t ready to come out yet).

“Our winner is Jacob Ben Israel as Dark Vader.”

“It’s Darth.” Sam muttered.

Santana was pacing the choir room, wanting desperately to run her hand through her hair but knew it would ruin her Rizzo hair.

“The top three winners can report to Miss Pillsbury office to take photographs with their trophies. Have a spooktastic day.”

“I’m going to kill that jewfro! I mean, how can he even fit his afro in to that helmet? It would break!” Santana was screaming.

“Santana-“ Mr. Schue started calmly.

Santana started storming out of the choir room, her eyes blazing ferociously.

“Oh no.” Quinn hopped out of her seat with Puck and Sam in toe. “Santana! Leave the small, perverted boy alone!” It was hard to chase after the Latina in heels.

The rest of the glee club got out of their seats to follow, anticipating Santana going Lima Heights on JBI. Truth be told, everyone in glee club had wanted to see that boy hit at least once.

“Guys!” Mr. Schue threw his hands up exasperated and ran his hand through his hair.

“And people say I’m a sore loser.” Rachel muttered as she hurried after the rest.

Santana was stalking the halls looking for a mini Darth Vader. He was so small and Darth Vader costumes were so cheap, they were basically a onesie, he couldn’t be hard to find. Santana was enraged. How could that perverted dwarf win with such a low grade costume of a cliche character?

She finally spotted him, about to enter Miss Pillsbury office. She would never in a million years admit this, even if she was held at gunpoint by one Sue Sylvester, but she was impressed. JBI’s costume wasn’t a onesie. It looked like it was the actual costume from the 80’s. For a second, just a second, Santana second guessed attacking the boy. He was big and covered in plastic.

But alas, he stole her rightful first place, and she was Santana fucking Lopez. Lucky for her he had his helmet off, so she slipped her heel off and chucked it down the hall. Somehow it hit him square in the head.

“Ow!” He started rubbing his head.

Santana became unhinged. She charged the poor boy, tackling him to the floor.

“Oh shit.” Puck said before him and Sam ran after the deranged woman.

Quinn shook her head and followed. ‘I’m dating a psychopath.’

“Stop the violence.”

Santana didn’t really hurt him since he was protected by all the plastic of the suit, but she did scratch him by his eye (fitting for his character). It took Puck, Sam, and Mr. Schue to pull Santana off of JBI and back towards the choir room.

“Don’t mess with Lime Heights!” Santana kicked her legs wildly.

For everyone’s sake, Quinn hoped they won tomorrow at the party. Santana losing (especially to Halloween) while intoxicated was not something anyone wanted to happen.

[ofcrossrcads]

NAME?: cryptid

PRONOUNS?: He/him

MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?: definitely here, and Astarion + my BG ocs on @abandonededen Miguel I've got an Aasimar war cleric, a dryad warlock of the raven queen, and two whole durge options

RP PET PEEVES?: I can't think of any at the moment tbh.

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS?: I got started on gi-gaia back in the early aughts, and have been going, well, not super strong, but I've been going since lmao. so like, twenty years now, dang.

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: I tend to play characters that lend themselves best to angst lol, but I'm a big fan of all three! I've generally gotta vibe with you ooc for heavy smut though c':

PLOTS OR MEMES?: Both are excellent, though I tend to like at least some idea of what we're both looking for going in. some characters are easier to jump in blind with than others!

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: medium tbh. i’m struggling to write longer stuff these days if I'm being honest. not that i don't enjoy it, it's just,,,, not happening lately. i enjoy exchanges at all lengths, though, and honestly sometimes it's all about the vibes. that said, some of my muses just get really wordy and I can't stop them. idk.

TIME TO WRITE?: I'm gonna be so real, i write when the goblin that controls my executive function allows me to write. which is to say...not often.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: most of them? no. Nox and Anwyn are probably the most like me, if I had to choose.

Tagged by: @hcadlesshuntcr <33 Tagging: if you're seeing this and you haven't done it yet? tag, you're it!

[jueunbe]

hello, loves! it's just lil ol' me, the mun behind chaerin and haein! jueun is a beloved muse of mine that i've had for about four years but never got the chance to write out, so i tweaked her a little to fit at wannabe! hopefully, she fits in well. you can find her profile here and an introduction to her below the cut! as always, please like this post if you'd like to plot!

her background! born in suwon, south korea to a father who works for samsung and a mother who works as a japanese interpreter. she also has an older brother who is currently just an engineering student

dad was busy with his corporate job while mom was more of a freelancer so naturally, jueun ended up spending much more time with her mom. mom always wanted a daughter so when she ended up having jueun, she started throwing all her childhood dreams onto her

that mostly consisted of pageants, beauty contests and whatnot so jueun's grown up having to always win and be in the spotlight. plus, she's always had to take care of her appearances and that habit remains till today

as she grows older, she stops winning as many competitions, and so her mom kind of gives up on her. there's a mix of emotions during her last contest because she's so relieved that she never has to go through this again but also upset because it makes her feel worthless

anyway, as you can tell she has a lot of issues when it comes to trusting people because of the competitive world she was in from a young age and she always seeks approval from others! sort of acts overly confident to cover up the insecurities that she does have

currently, she's a university student majoring in fashion, works part time at olive young for the sweet cj points and discounts and also does freelance makeup work! nothing fancy, but she'll do cheap makeup and styling for fellow college students if they're shooting profiles and such

doesn't really dream of being an idol (for now, at least), but she has imagined herself being on television and kind of seeks the attention that comes with a job in this industry. becoming an idol or just being famous in general would really fulfill the approval and attention she seeks from people

kind of instagram famous but not really. probably has a decent following but it's niche. people who like fashion and makeup might know her feed but if you're not into that stuff, she's just a college kid

i explained some of her personality above, but she really does fake it to make it more than she'd like to. her mother has put her down quite a lot since she was young and her dad was never home enough to give her any love, but she is very close to her brother. the two pretty much only had one another to count on. she's kind of wary of people's true intentions when she first meets them but puts on a very outgoing, friendly facade to get to know them. almost like getting to know her enemies better before they become her enemies! if she were to debut as an idol, i can see fans finding her to be a lot more quiet than they expected her to be because she's constantly acting to have people like her and enjoy her presence

deep down, she is a lot softer than she appears. again, she acts more confident than she actually is because that's how she was trained to act since she was young. jueun would love more than anything to be a little more genuine, but it'll take some training, and she'll have to make some real friends for that to happen

kind of lives by the motto of why give a 100% to everything when she can give her 70% and get away with it. life's been pretty smooth so far (or so she likes to think) so she's not a work hard every day kind of girl

i am open for all sorts of plots but here are a few that just popped into mind! perhaps your muse hires her for makeup, you're a frequent shopper at olive young and you always seek out jueun because she seems to have the best recommendations, a roommate would be nice because she's going to school in seoul but her house is suwon, someone who catches her in a vulnerable moment and sees a more watered down version of her, some real friends (would require more intense plotting though!), exes/crushes/flings and whatnot (the latter will be very recent because of her age, of course), etc. again, i'd be more than happy to discuss things so please do throw me any ideas you have!

[whiskeysmulti]

❤️ + queenharumiura!

Send ❤️ + a URL and I’ll write something nice about them/their blog!- accepting!

.Whiskey.

Glad you sent this one, Jas! Neo, let me start this off by thanking you for welcoming me into the KHR RPC with open arms like you did. I've made some friends here that I will never let go of now and it's all because of you. You're not only a great writer, but a wonderful and patient person as well. I can spend my whole day just chilling and bullshitting with you about every day stuff and not get bored. Thank you for listening to my rambling and putting up with my shitposts. On to the writing. I could say so much about all your muses, but this for Haru's blog so I'm sticking with the two muses I write with on that one. First off, Haru. As much as people hate on her, she was one of my favorite characters from the anime even though they did her dirty. After reading the manga, I understood what you meant that the anime screwed her over. And I 100% agree. You bring her to life so well I sometimes have to stop myself and remind myself she's not real when I read your blog. I scroll your blog for hours sometimes, which I know you know I do because your webhooks will go off at 3 am and it's me liking a post from like a year ago. Thank you for giving my writing a chance. I'm glad you did. It's rare that I find a writing partner who my muse can just flow with when they send something in, a lot of stuff I have to think first. You're one of a handful who writes so well with my characters I can almost always wake them up for your muses, some of the only other ones I can get in character for that fast is Mage or Lexy with Mukuro. You have a talent for grabbing inspo from Haru as well and working out how Fiore would work as her First Gen counterpart. You have her very well written and well rounded enough that I could even see if there had been another arc focused just on the first Gen, Fiore would be canonically G's wife. And I find it hilarious that she actually is the Yamato Nadeshiko that Haru strives to be. Thank you for blessing me with these characters on my dash and thank you for putting up with my bullshit for this long!

@queenharumiura