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queenofwands89 · 29 days

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Do you do fanfic requests? If so I was hoping for maybe an angsty enemies to lovers with Tyler Owens, like they are rivals and just got off on a bad start that spiraled into them hating each other but slowly seeing there's more there but being in denial until maybe like Reader gets injured in a chase or helping someone and Tyler realized how he truly feels? Idk lol. Just need some good angst and hurt comfort.

Stormfront Showdown (Part 1)

Tyler Owens x fem!Stormchaser!reader

Summary: Y/N and Tyler have been longstanding rivals, their past filled with unresolved conflicts and clashing opinions on storm chasing. With vastly different approaches to tracking and studying storms, their heated debates have become legendary. Now, with the upcoming storm chasing convention on the horizon, tensions are set to skyrocket. You know Tyler will be there, and the question is: will this be another explosive encounter, or will the storm finally bring them together in unexpected ways?

Word count: 2262

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, verbal sparring, competition, dumb blonde joke, teasing, a little angsty idk.

Notes: Thank you so much for your request! I apologize for the delay; I recently started school and things have been hectic. I took a bit of creative liberty with your request and turned it into a short series. I hope you don't mind! If anyone wants me to make a taglist, just let me know. I hope you enjoy it—bye! 💜

The storm chaser convention is your annual pilgrimage as a weather enthusiast or professional. The ballroom of the Kansas City Grand Hotel buzzes with anticipation. As you stand at the entrance, your eyes sweep the room with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. You don't particularly enjoy these crowded events, preferring the solitude and precision of your solo chases, but your presence here is a necessary evil—an opportunity to share your findings and emphasize the importance of safety and scientific rigor.

You smooth the front of your blazer, double-checking your notes for the panel discussion. It’s then that you spot him: Tyler Owens. The Tornado Wrangler himself stands surrounded by a throng of fans and admirers, his laughter loud and infectious. His rugged appearance, complete with cowboy boots and a well-worn hat, seems to dominate the room. Boone is there too, camera in hand, capturing every moment for Tyler's YouTube channel. Lily, Dexter, and Dani mingle nearby, each in their element.

You inhale deeply, trying to steady your nerves. The name Tyler Owens epitomizes everything you abhor in storm chasing—recklessness, unchecked bravado, and an insatiable thirst for sensationalism. To you, he is the living antithesis of diligent scientific inquiry and responsible journalism.

Your last encounter with Tyler was nothing short of disastrous. What began as a simple disagreement escalated into a full-blown public feud, broadcasted for the world to see via social media and various news outlets. You had penned a scathing article, meticulously criticizing his methods as dangerous and irresponsible. Your words were sharp, intended to signal a wake-up call not just to him but to the entire community of storm chasers.

Tyler, never one to retreat from controversy, responded with an incendiary video. Filled with passionate retorts and dismissive gestures, his rebuttal ignited a firestorm of reactions, polarizing the storm-chasing community and capturing the attention of a captivated audience.

The bitter memory of this exchange still lingers in your mind, a festering wound that has yet to heal. Now, as you anticipate another face-to-face meeting with him, you feel the weight of that unresolved animosity. You brace yourself for the confrontation that seems as inevitable as the approaching storm you both intend to chase.

The panel is called to order, and the moderator introduces the speakers with a flourish. You take your seat, your heart pounding in your chest. Tyler settles into the chair next to you, flashing a charming smile that belies the tension crackling between you.

"Welcome, everyone," the moderator begins. "Today, we have a diverse panel of storm chasers who will share their unique perspectives on this thrilling and dangerous field. Let's start with you, Y/N. Can you tell us about your approach to storm chasing?"

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking. "I believe storm chasing is an essential tool for advancing our understanding of severe weather phenomena. My approach focuses on meticulous planning, data collection, and public safety. The goal is to minimize risk while maximizing scientific value."

Tyler leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he addresses the room. "You know, while I truly appreciate Y/N's unwavering commitment to safety," he begins, his voice smooth and confident, "we sometimes overlook the bigger picture. Storm chasing isn't just about data and caution—it's about raising awareness and capturing the awe-inspiring power of nature."

He pauses for effect, letting his words sink in before flashing a charismatic smile at the crowd. "My team and I, we're not just scientists; we're storytellers. We bring these magnificent storms to the world, showing people a side of nature they rarely see."

His smile widens, eyes sparkling with excitement. "We have a saying in our crew: 'If you feel it, chase it.' Because in those moments of raw, untamed nature, we find our stories, our inspiration."

The room erupts in appreciative murmurs and nods of agreement, some even breaking into applause. Tyler's infectious enthusiasm and charm work their magic, swaying the audience to his perspective, if only for the moment.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Raising awareness is important, Tyler, but not at the expense of safety. Your methods put not just you and your team at risk but also the communities you travel through."

"And your methods," Tyler shoots back, "might yield scientifically valuable data, but they often lack the human element. People need to see the raw, unfiltered power of these storms to understand what we're dealing with."

The panel has been raging on for twenty minutes, each of you firing verbal volleys that keep the audience captivated. The tension is palpable, and it’s clear that you and Tyler aren’t on good terms.

Tyler leans forward, a cocky grin spreading across his face. He’s baiting you, and he knows exactly which buttons to push. "You know, ever since that article you wrote, questioning my methods, I've been wondering. Maybe you're just not a fan of a little excitement? Gotta admit, though, it did spark quite the public feud."

The hint of satisfaction in his voice is unmistakable—he’s reveling in the attention, the controversy, and most of all, the fact that he’s gotten under your skin.

You snap back, your tone fiery and unapologetic. "And with good reason. Your methods are reckless, Tyler. Capturing nature is one thing, but ensuring the safety of our team and the community is paramount. Data collection can be done without playing Russian roulette with our lives."

Tyler smirks, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, but without taking risks, we miss out on the most stunning phenomena. The beauty of a storm isn't just in its data points—it's in the visceral experience."

Your eyes narrow, voice sharp and unyielding. "Visceral experiences are meaningless if they end in tragedy. We need to strike a balance—pushing limits, yes, but with calculated caution. Not reckless abandonment just to feed your adrenaline addiction."

Leaning in slightly, his voice drops to a teasing whisper, "Careful. If you play it too safe, you might end up in a cozy weather office instead of out there chasing the real action."

You raise an eyebrow, your smile icy. "Better a cozy office than a hospital bed, Tyler. Besides, in the office, I can keep an eye on your antics, making sure you don’t turn yourself into a cautionary tale."

Tyler chuckles, clearly unfazed. "Touché. But admit it, you'd miss our epic sparring sessions out in the field."

You smirk back, your tone dripping with sarcasm, "Maybe. But I'd miss watching you lose a battle of wits with a breeze. It's like a real-life dumb blonde joke, but without the punchline."

Boone, with his characteristic enthusiasm, interjects, "You both have valid points! The thrill and the data—can't we find a middle ground here that marries both perspectives?"

Tyler grins at Boone's comment, "Maybe, Boone. But finding that middle ground is easier said than done."

The moderator, sensing the escalating tension and the need to maintain decorum, finally calls for a break. Their calm yet authoritative voice cuts through the cacophony of arguments, bringing a temporary ceasefire.

"Let's take a ten-minute break to gather our thoughts," the moderator says, brokering no argument. "This will give everyone a chance to cool off and reflect."

The announcement is met with a collective exhale from the audience. You can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you step away from the podium, your mind racing with the flurry of ideas and rebuttals. Tyler shoots you a confident smirk, clearly reveling in the public sparring.

As the room buzzes with low conversations and people stretch their legs, you glance towards Boone, Lily, Dexter, and Dani. Boone gives you a thumbs-up, his eyes sparkling with excitement for the next round. Lily offers a supportive nod, while Dexter's contemplative gaze meets yours, as if silently urging you to remain steadfast. Dani approaches you quietly, her concern evident.

"Take a moment to breathe," she advises softly. "You’re doing great, but don’t let him get under your skin."

You nod, appreciating the support as you resolve to keep your composure for the next part of the debate. Tyler may have won the crowd for now, but the debate is far from over.

You step away from the panel, finding solace in a quiet corner of the room. You sip your water, your mind racing with a mix of frustration and determination. A voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Y/N," Tyler says, his tone unusually soft. "Can we talk?"

You turn to face him, your eyes narrowing. "There's not much to say, Tyler. We clearly have different philosophies that will never align."

He sighs, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Look, I know we've had our differences, but we're both here for a reason. We're passionate about what we do. Maybe... just maybe, there's a middle ground we haven't considered."

Before you can respond, a group of Tyler's ardent fans—mostly attractive young women whose adoration for him is barely concealed—swarm in, interrupting your conversation. Their laughter and excited voices fill the air as they clamor for his attention, each holding out their phones for selfies.

"Tyler, can we get a picture with you?"

"You're amazing, Tyler, can you sign this?"

Their voices form a cacophony of admiration and eagerness. Tyler gives you a fleeting look, a glimmer of regret in his eyes. As he turns to handle the eager fans, you seize the moment. You walk away quickly, your strides purposeful and filled with resolve.

By the time Tyler manages to take a few pictures and sign a couple of autographs, he looks up to continue the conversation, but you're already gone. He scans the room, his expression shifting from hope to dejection as he realizes you're nowhere to be seen.

His shoulders slump slightly, and a look of displeasure shadows his face. The admiring fans around him continue their cheerful chatter, but his thoughts are elsewhere. He looks in the direction you went, frustration evident as he contemplates the vanished opportunity to bridge the chasm between you.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

The second day of the storm chaser convention dawns with a swirl of excitement and anticipation. Yesterday had been a whirlwind, with Tyler and you continuing your intense, verbal sparring match during your panel. As soon as it ended, you purposely avoided Tyler for the rest of the day, determined to keep your distance and focus on the upcoming events.

Today, however, is different. You feel a surge of excitement as you head towards the sign-up area for the competition on advanced research—a competition you have won every year. You stride confidently through the bustling convention hall, ready to claim your victory once more.

Approaching the registration table, you're taken aback to see Tyler there, pen in hand, scribbling his name onto the sign-up sheet. Your eyebrows knit together in a mixture of surprise and annoyance as you walk up to him.

"What are you doing here, Tyler?" you ask, folding your arms across your chest. "This competition has strict rules that you couldn't follow even if they were spelled out in neon lights."

Tyler smirks and meets your gaze. "Decided to sign up this year. Thought I'd give you some real competition."

You lock eyes, each ready for a verbal duel. The air between you crackles with tension.

"If you think you can handle it, by all means, try," you retort, your voice tinged with sarcasm. "Just know that this isn't your usual chaotic escapade. This requires precision and knowledge—qualities that, frankly, I don't think you possess."

Tyler chuckles softly. "We'll see about that. Underestimating me might be your biggest mistake."

Before you can continue your exchange, the host of the panel steps up to a microphone, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. The host, a renowned meteorologist named Dr. Sandra Jacobs, greets the crowd with a warm smile and a practiced ease.

"Good morning, everyone! I'm Dr. Sandra Jacobs, and it's my pleasure to welcome you to this year's storm chaser convention!" Dr. Jacobs begins, her voice carrying effortlessly through the room. "As many of you know, this convention is a celebration of the fascinating and often dangerous world of storm chasing. It's a place for experts and enthusiasts alike to share their passion and knowledge."

A murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd as Dr. Jacobs continues.

"One of the highlights of our convention is the competition on advanced research. It's a chance for storm chasers to showcase their findings, methodologies, and innovations in storm tracking and prediction."

Your eyes shift back to Tyler momentarily, a competitive fire igniting within you.

"This year, however, we’ve decided to change things up," Dr. Jacobs announces, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "There will be no rules and no limits! The stakes are higher than ever, with $100,000 in research funding and a special feature on Discovery Plus for the winner!"

A collective gasp and murmurs of surprise and excitement ripple through the crowd. Your eyes widen slightly, processing the unexpected twist. Tyler glances at you, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

"No rules, huh?" he teases, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Looks like your little rule-book speech just got thrown out the window."

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, both frustrated and fueled by the sudden turn of events. You watch him go, your mind already strategizing how to adapt to the new, unpredictable landscape of the competition. The game had just changed, and you are more determined than ever to come out on top.

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens fic #tyler owens x you #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic #twisters movie #twisters #glen powell #glen powell fanfic #dani #lilly #dexter #boone

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pbandjeveryday · 1 year

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Thinking about how on Leia’s childhood birthdays, Alderaanian holonet channels would be broadcasting Empire Day specials all day long. Thinking about how Bail would turn it off and they would celebrate her day with an abundance of presents and desserts and Leia would feel like the happiest little princess in the galaxy, but she would always associate that day with the Imperial March.

Thinking about how on Luke’s childhood birthdays, Aunt Beru would make him a simple birthday cake and Uncle Owen would give him the day off of chores. Thinking about how Luke didn’t even know it was Empire Day until the year that Owen took him to Tosche station and someone said something about it, and how he didn’t really associate his birthday with Empire Day until Imperial presence on Tatooine began to increase.

Thinking about how on Ezra’s childhood birthdays, he had to watch the people who took his parents away marching down the Capital City streets to applause and cheers. Thinking about how the only birthdays he could remember were filled with misery and anger until he turned fifteen on the Ghost, and how even though his birthdays got happier with his new family, he always associated that day with pain and fear.

Thinking about how much their adopted families meant to each one of them on their birthdays, and how hard it must have been once those families were torn away from them.

Thinking about how much destruction and pain the Empire caused in all three of their lives, from the very day they each drew their first breaths.

#star wars #luke skywalker #leia organa #ezra bridger #luke and leia #star wars rebels #star wars original trilogy #the empire star wars #empire day #bail organa #breha organa #princess leia #character birthday #the ghost crew #alderaan #tatooine #lothal

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luunamoona · 6 days

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how can people still be like "trobed doesn't make sense they're both straight" when like there is so much of evidence on the contrary. for one, troy and abed do not act like just friends. annie confirms they hold hands in season one, troy leaves a date with a woman he likes because she didn't like abed in season 2, they literally move in together and sleep in the same room in season 3, when they switch in season 4, the first thing they both do is look at each other's dicks and in season 5, abed's mind is set on fire by the prospect of troy leaving. abed only cries twice in the show, once in season 3 at the end of the first chang dynasty and once in season 6 at the end of emotional consequences of broadcast television. both of these were about troy leaving. in season 3, it was when troy left for the air conditioning repair school. in season 6 it was him reminiscing about troy and his departure in geothermal escapism. they always had a very deep emotional bond.

next, there's the argument that troy and abed are straight. and like what do you mean? troy has clearly shown his attraction to clive owens throughout the show, saying in virtual systems analysis (or abed playing as troy and using things that troy has said to him (still counts)) that he may as well be attracted to him and saying that he has a tumblr blog dedicated to him in the repilot. and then there's abed. i mean first we got the mixology certification, where he kept talking to a dude he knew was flirting with him for like a really long time, thought did ultimately decline when he requested they have sex. then there's the bisexual hoodie. like c'mon. literally wore a hoodie that had the bisexual flag on it for most of season 3.

troy and abed were for sure gay.

#nbc community #community #community tv #abed nadir #troy barnes #trobed #troy and abed

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slutforfinnickodair · 8 months

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𝑆𝑊𝐸𝐸𝑇 𝐿𝐼𝑃𝑆 || 𝐹𝐼𝑁𝑁𝐼𝐶𝐾 𝑂𝐷𝐴𝐼𝑅

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐴𝑠 𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 73𝑟𝑑 ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑘, 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐵𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 @miiathemii '𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑. 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓. 𝑁𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑌/𝑁, 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑌/𝐿/𝑁. 𝐴𝑁𝐺𝑆𝑇. 𝐵𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑓 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒. (𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒.) 𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑂𝑑𝑎𝑖𝑟. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑂𝑑𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐴𝑢: 𝑂ℎ 𝑚𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑑. 𝐼 𝐴𝐵𝑆𝑂𝐿𝑈𝑇𝐸𝐿𝑌 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝑂𝑁𝐸. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 @miiathemii 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡. 𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑡'𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒! 𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡! 𝑚𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑏𝑜𝑥 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦! 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 <3

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 6.1𝑘

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The forest was always beautiful.

But like everything, it gets old too. You can see it yourself, if you have been around here for a long time by now you could sense the feeling of it growing older. The fresh smell of mahogany around its aura wasn’t the same anymore.

The whole look at the sky wasn’t the same anymore, but that was just because I grew older as well. When I was young I didn’t see the problems adult’s had. I didn’t see all of the suffering that was growing around our district. Nothing was the same anymore. Not that it mattered to the old ones that were fighting for their last years alive, but it mattered to me. This place was where I grew up, where I let myself be truthfully myself. I didn’t have to act like I belonged somewhere else. And I had to watch it go and vanish into nothing.

After I bought the bread from the market and brought it home to mum, I didn’t have anything else to look out after this day so I came here. My favorite place of all times. At least it used to be. The air was salty and earthy while the grass around me was dewy. This wasn’t the same place anymore where I grew up. It made me want to escape the whole state, to start a new life. Somewhere else and not here where the only thing that could be sensed was the fear, and only the fear for kids.

The only birthday we didn’t really celebrate was the twelfth.

I remember exactly the night before I turned twelve. Mum set me to sleep, tucking me in the covers while I asked her about the games and she started to tear up. She was afraid. I was waiting for it while being excited. Every one of my friend group was already thirteen or fourteen and yet I was just simply excited to attend the reaping everyone talked about.

Little, clueless me.

Ambrosia was reaped when she was fifteen. I was still twelve then. I thought that she would win and come back and then we would laugh about the whole thing.

She didn’t come back.

But even that didn’t stop me from wanting to attend the whole thing.

I wanted to help mum. Each year I got my name in the glass globe two times. For me and her as well. It all started when I was thirteen, by the time I reached eighteen my name was in the globe at least twelve times. I just wanted to help her out with anything that I could.

I lost hope though when I reached eighteen. I wasn’t reaped until then and I could not say that I was jealous of the winners for getting all that income and be broadcasted on television while we sat at home and stared at the screen.

I thought I wouldn’t be reaped, but when I heard my name being said all of the stupid things that I was thinking about left my mind. I remember I stood on the podium next to Owen Stewart, a thirteen year old boy whose parents were the market owner’s that year and while we shook hands I felt a pair of two eyes burn their gaze into the skin of my back.

I opened my eyes swiftly and slowly looked around myself. This one spot, my comfort place.

The flowers that grew near the river were now shining with all of their might. The warm days gave them enough sunlight to reach their climax of colors. The whole forest looked like it was caged, but only this part of it not where I used to hang around when I was little.

Now if I looked at it the only thing I could sense was danger. Though I still came here whenever I was sad or anxious or anything. My feelings calmed down here in this one spot. If it would be caged like the rest of it I wouldn’t have anywhere to escape to.

Mum used to say that it was dangerous and I didn’t understand why until I lost someone. At that time kids I was friends with used to swim in the river, laughing and fishing. The first thing we learnt how to do even before learning to write or to read. Just remembering that each one of them was dead by now and I was the only one left alone made me look around the place I had known for around twenty years.

The trees were vividly green, the jabberjay's chirping and settling down on the branches of the living wood. I smiled occasionally when I heard them repeat chattering around the district. Old women talking with each other and discussing younger ones, the fish problems — that the river next to the little cottage houses was almost empty, a living creature not in it, or even just how old they grew and what they've been through already.

I wished I could have grown old like that. Without being chosen as a tribute. Now that I did win, there was no question that I wouldn’t continue living the life that I’ve always had before. When I sliced the last tribute’s throat open from district two, I thought that everything would be fine. Everything would continue running the same way as it always did. Maybe I would be chosen as a mentor next to him. We got the income from The Capitol, the house in Victor's village and all of this just because I killed people. Just that by now, I wished I would be rather dead than be alive between these circumstances.

I thought that I would come home, give a speech in all of the twelve districts to show people respect and then go home. Leave The Capitol and never talk about it again. I should have felt easiness growing inside of me the day I turned nineteen, but I could not. How could I when so many people still felt grief, so many felt alone and betrayed? How can someone live with such feelings that they are the cause of many’s sorrow?

Here.

I was the worst, but at the same time the best example.

But I got what I deserved.

People thought that… that Finnick was this handsome looking fine young boy when he won. At least I thought so. When I was reaped I thought that it was going to be alright, the youngest victor ever will be my mentor. What are the odds of me getting killed?

He didn’t even speak to me after we got on the train. I was thinking maybe he hated me. That I wasn’t pretty enough to be even looking at him.

Now I understood why he didn’t want me to come out successfully from this whole thing.

I tried to see it from his point of view.

They were sex trafficking a sixteen year old boy.

One night which was still spent at The Capitol I was awoken by the sound of glass shattering. The twelve year old boy who was my partner was sleeping like a bear and I was awoken by the slightest sound around the penthouse.

I thought maybe someone broke in, or something like that happened. When I walked out I saw Finnick standing over the counter, the drink that was in his glass now all over the marble tile, spreading while the remains of the glass were in his grip still. I rushed over, seeing that he probably crushed the glass with his own hand.

My statement became true when I finally brought him to speak. His voice was low, raspy almost as if he didn’t want me to hear him. I sat him down to the nearest lamp and took his palm into my hands, it seemed large next to mine. The fresh blood was still spilling from the wound’s on his skin. Since I wasn’t mean enough to wake up our escort too, I searched up the whole apartment for a first aid kit.

While I was bounding up his palm we stayed quiet, though I did. When I was done he murmured something like a thank you and looked at my face like this was the first time he saw me. His eyes narrowed, making me pull my hands away from him and turn around my heel quickly rushing back to my bedroom.

I acted like nothing happened on that night after it, but with Finnick… it was almost impossible to keep up. One day he acted like he hated you, and then next week he would be jumping around you like a bunny.

The blade of grass that I was picking at flew out from between my fingers, making me stare at it and where it disappeared. I wasn’t strong enough to live through another year as someone who was the most desirable female in my district. I wanted to live free. Live without the fear of the consequences of my actions. Every pair of eyes was watching every single move I made in The Capitol. I couldn’t act like nothing happened. Those two weeks were the worst I experienced.

In these situations I let my thoughts wander, making me feel alive and well. I knew that somehow I have to protect mum. She was the only one I could count on. If not her, then I wouldn’t have anyone to put my trust in. No one in the whole existence of the Universe could replace her, not even if it was the most charming, blessed or dependable person.

My eyes slowly flickered to the sunset, the beautiful sun setting down while the sky looked as if an impressionist was playing with the color gradients. I wanted to feel young again, the feeling of being free and not caring about anything around me made me crazy. It was bringing back memories — memories that I thought were long dead in the deepest parts of my mind.

I sucked in a harsh breath before closing my eyelids and just listening to the sound of nature. The wind, how it flew around me and how it pushed the hair into my face. The ordinary bird’s flew around the river, the sound of the river colliding with the forcefield, the sound that it let out, making me flinch. The forcefield was the only thing that kept me back from taking my mother with myself out of Panem.

On a daily basis I tried to do something against it, crave a hole into it, shatter it to thousands of pieces. Anything that could make it disappear. The Capitol was being unrealistically protective with this pull. I was tired of going home everyday, every third day going back to the center and getting to sleep with someone I didn’t even know the name of. Why did I have to do this? Why couldn’t I just simply die? Why couldn’t I listen to him?

But no. I couldn’t be that selfish. I wouldn’t want mum to suffer. She needed to live instead of me too. She needed to live for herself to see a better future. I didn't care about myself at that point when I was almost suffocated by Irina Frank. She was on my mind. I only tried to win for her sake. It’s ironic how though I won, I still have to act like the flirtatious, sharp minded woman. I didn’t see the point of being a prostitute, yet I already was one. I was one. I wasn’t proud of it, but they forced me to. I wasn’t the only one. But still I felt like I was all alone, betrayed and hurt.

And I agreed because I was horrified by the fact that they could kill her in her own house.

But the pleasure that I should have been feeling turned into disgust.

A sigh left my lips while I threw a little rock into the river and stood up from the grass, taking my bag full of knives with myself. The road from here to our house wasn’t a long one, but if you kept walking slowly it could have been stretched out to ten minutes. I slowly walked up on the hill and went through the forest, passing by numerous trees.

The feeling of being in love vanished for me. There was no such feeling. I didn’t know what being in love felt like after those encounters. It didn’t mean anything to me afterwards. They used it as a weapon against me. I knew it shouldn’t feel like that.

After the first time, the boy who was possibly the same age as me left the room while I stayed like that, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did.

I was left like that, I was bleeding. My eyes were closed the whole time and I just kept wishing for it to be over. Then the next day the same happened, then next week, then next month and then the next year. I was told to keep quiet otherwise I could have suffered a lot more than I was doing.

I wondered how Finnick could still live like that. Visiting that whole shitty place and flirting with women at least ten years older than him. Once I remember we were invited to this whole celebration of the victor’s like two years ago. Even then he was with a woman who seemed like she was going to throw up from the amount of alcohol that was already down her throat.

He was easing up around the whole place while I was being tight like a knot on a rope.

I wished I could do it like him. So simply, but in reality I saw something no one else did, except him. Fear.

Not of death.

Rather fear for his loved ones.

He wasn’t this cocky male that they showed you on television. Even when we were kids he was charming, had all of the girls drool over him, even Ambrosia who was known not to fall for charm and playfulness.

When I reached the village I walked up on the stairs of the front porch in front of our house and opened the front door. I placed my bag down next to where our shoes were and closed the door behind myself. I took off my coat and hung it on the hanger, taking my steps towards the living room.

“Oh here she is.” Mum said while I straightened my back and stood in the door.

Oh speak of the devil.

I clenched my jaw while she got up from her armchair and walked towards me, taking my head in her hands, kissing my forehead.

“Mum.” I whispered while she looked back at me. “What is he doing here?” My voice came out struggling while she shook her head slightly,

“I will go and pour you some tea,” She said. “Darling, do you need another cup?” She asked the boy while I scoffed and sat down on the couch across from him.

“Thank you, Mrs Y/L/N.” Finnick nodded his head at her while she took his cup and I crossed my arms on my chest.

He looked up at me while I licked my lower lip, leaning my back against the leather.

“Look I. I know we are not in the speaking phase…”

“What do you want, Odair?” I asked while now placing my thigh against the other. He looked at me, stunned at first then chuckling. I stared back at him with my brows knitted together, sucking in harsh breaths.

He started searching for something in his jacket, making me more anxious about his whole visit. What the hell did he want again? Mum as I saw was actually happy about him, like this was the first time he came to this house.

When his father died, my mother often visited their house since she and his mother have been friends since childhood. I didn’t really get along with him, he was always this “I know better than you do!” kid and he didn’t seem to change ever since that even though he was already twentyfour or something like that.

“Here. Take it.” Finnick shook me out of my thoughts while an envelope was in his right hand. I looked at it for a hot minute before slowly taking it from him. I looked down at it, the front glowing with beautiful petal’s of a living white rose surrounded by golden dust. The handwritten letters made out my name, the district number and the address of Finnick’s house.

I looked up at him while turning the envelope to the backside. He only kept waiting for me to open it, but I hardly could. Why would they send a letter for me to his house? It made no sense. My fingertips gazed at the flap of the paper, the edges nicely painted with gold paint. They secured the letter with a seal, The Capitol’s emblem emerged from the maroon wax.

I ripped the envelope open, reaching for the piece of paper that was in it. It was an invitation. I pulled it out, taking a look at it while both of my hands held it. I read the words quickly enough, but still did not understand what was actually in front of me.

“This must be a joke or something.” I scoffed while Finnick stared at me. I looked up back at him. “I’m not going to attend a stupid event where I have to act like that again. I don’t want to be happy about what I had to do.” I said while my fingertips reached the top of the paper, ripping it into two pieces, then into another two and so on until there was nothing left.

“Tearing up the invitation is not going to make them forget about you. Look, I’ll go too.”

“You are not serious right now.” I chuckled. “You really want me to go with you? That’s why you came here?” I blinked while my face probably held a hilarious expression. “Keep dreaming.” I mouthed while narrowing my eyes, a smile on my lips.

“I won’t be dreaming for much longer Sweetheart.” He said while mum appeared in the living room with a tray of two cups of English tea and a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

“Here you go. Oh, also. I hope you don’t mind Darling, but I have to leave. The textiles got shipped this morning and I have to keep sewing otherwise they will fire me.”

“It’s alright Mrs Y/L/N. Thank you for your lovely welcoming.” Finnick stood up while she hugged him, reaching up to her tiptoes. When she pulled away looking at him, she placed her hands on his cheeks, mouthing something as he chuckled.

Once she pulled away her gaze got fixated on me. I looked at her while a huge lump was resting in my throat, threatening me to swallow. Something about her always made me nervous, even if I wasn’t in trouble, but this time it seemed like I was in a big one.

“Behave yourself.” She said while pointing at me. I shook my head bringing my palm to rest against my forehead, closing my eyes. I pushed the loose hair strands away from my face, inhaling a breath that my lungs didn’t need.

When I heard the front door close I stood up from the leather couch in an instant, walking towards the French windows. The sun was still setting down, the image beautiful. I really didn’t want to go. I really didn’t. I did not want to drink, dance or feel good about what I did even if it helped us out. I did not want to go over the same thing again.

I would never do something like that and not even Finnick could make me change my mindset. I pressed my fingertips into my eyes, leaning my head backwards while letting out a groan. When was the last time I did something that I actually wanted?

I felt guilty and actually didn’t understand how the hell could he act like that. Like he didn’t care about all of those innocent adolescents that wanted nothing more than to just help their family. He was feeling absolutely amazing, while I felt like I was going to bury myself into Panem’s lowest point.

Maybe the years, the years did it all for him. It has been already a decade since he won the games, why would he still feel sorrow? Even in this situation he came out as the one who held the truth. And I hated him for that.

Suddenly I felt the room shift, I leant my head against the window while I heard him get up from his seat. I closed my eyes, feeling the cold of the glass calm my nerves. I swallowed the lump that was in my throat and pressed my lips into a line.

I felt him walk behind me. I calmed down my breaths before turning around slowly. Once I was sure I faced him I opened my eyes, crossing my arms on my chest as if to hide something from him.

“One chance. If you ruin it I won’t be talking with you for good Finn.”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The Capitol, as usual, did what they are the best at.

The room, where usually the tryouts were held - now was decorated into a whole other room. I looked around, from the ceiling exactly thirteen stars hanging. Each star was shining with a number, representing the number of the twelve districts and the one place where The Capitol's people were sitting at a table.

On the tables white silk was laid, on it glimmering textile that could have been the same material mum was bringing in her hands last night. There were different kinds of alcohol, from brandy to whiskey to vodka you could have found everything that you wanted to have. The meals weren’t on the table yet, though there were some snacks laid out. Biscuits, cake and other sweet things that a little child with nothing in their hands would have gone feral for.

Everyone around me was dressed formally, women having long, knee reaching and even very short dresses. There were a lot of people: the victors, their family, the judges and even photographers who were all around the place. I looked around the hall again, my gaze fixated on the walls of the ballroom.

The walls were painted with golden flowers, all over the place. Sometimes if you looked closely you could actually see how butterflies appeared on them. The place was beautiful, just that the people who made it look beautiful were ruined from the inside. I looked down, only to see the frills by the end of my dress.

It was gorgeous. Mum has been sewing it ever since Finnick appeared with the envelope. She was very excited, brought home tons of textiles and kept measuring my stats over and over. I occasionally even enjoyed the whole thing. I loved seeing her doing what she loved. From the beginning of the day she sat down at our dining table, sewing, sketching on her notepad and decorating the flattering piece of clothing with beautiful pearls.

The dress was plantation teal, just to show where I belonged. Mum thought the color was beautiful either way and suited me very much. I couldn’t disagree with her. At the chest the fabric was covering most of my breasts, but leaving a line between them. The corset hugged my waist perfectly, shaping an hourglass which wasn’t exactly how my body was truly shaped.

It had a long skirt, reaching down to the floor. The ends were shaping frills, if I spinned around they looked exactly like I was in a fairytale. The back was beautiful as well, strands to tie across my back. I was thankful that I had a mother like this, actually caring about me and not just because I needed to bring home my wealth. I couldn’t say I didn’t love her more though.

My thoughts were again distracted by the one and only, Panem’s shining victor - Finnick Odair.

“Hi.”He said while I looked up at him, trying to force a smile on my lips. I succeeded partly, a slight smile took its place on my lips. “You look gorgeous.” He said while I suddenly felt weird. I could feel warmth creeping up into my face.

He wasn’t the first one who noticed me, and wasn’t the first one here that complimented my looks, though when he said it, it was different. I felt different. Maybe because I was already so close to him that even just a little compliment made me feel flushed.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” I said while he smiled down at me. I felt my own smile getting wider.

I would have said something right there and then, but someone interrupted me.

“Hi, sorry. I’m Christie. Would you like to dance with me?” The voice of the female couldn’ be more high pitched. She sounded like a kid while looking like someone you would have a time with between the dark alleys. Her blonde hair was tousled up into the sky, makeup covering even her neck. I don’t even think I have to mention her dress.

I raised my brows at her, which probably earned me a bad reputation in her eyes. I scoffed.

Rolling my eyes I suddenly walked away from the two. Everything that has been building up since he picked me up from my house died down, sadness taking over its place. Heavens, why wasn’t I so brave to ask him for a dance? Am I too…cowardly?

I walked through the ballroom, my eyes searching for someone to keep a conversation with but no one there seemed to grab my attention. I was nervous, what the night held for me. Thinking about how I probably needed to be brought home by someone. If I showed up here there was no question that I was going to be having one of the worst nights in my life all over again.

At these times I kept asking myself “Why did you have to win?” Even if I knew I was being selfish. If mum knew what they brought me into she would have bore the death of me better than this.

Even the idea of suicide creeped my thoughts, because all of my wealth was at home with her, in her house. If I died, they wouldn’t take it away from her. No, because I still had one year to become an adult.

If only I had the strength to. To end my life, but I was too caught up about the people around me. So I didn’t. I kept faking smiles, desires and everything else that The Capitol needed from me. Not like it was hard to act like the flirtatious, gorgeous woman, but it was exhausting. By the end of the day when I watched my interviews back with Caesar Flickerman I kept closing my eyes at the sound of my voice. I didn’t recognize myself.

I couldn’t believe what they turned me into. Of course, no one knew how I acted before I was chosen as tribute, but back then I hoped that I would get out the same. Just maybe, happier.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The music was crawling its way into my ears, the melody of the soft song that the woman sang made goosebumps appear on my skin. It was beautiful. I stared down at my glass of sparkling water, tapping my fingers on the cold glass.

It has been exactly two hours since I arrived. Some people came up to me and congratulated me for winning two years prior. I couldn’t even thank them. I just nodded, turning away from their burning gazes.

People I knew showed up too, for example Johanna Mason. I got along with her, though she only kept talking about this whole third quarter bullshit and how it is not fair that they want us to fight again when we are well over the age of eighteen.

I was biting my lips the whole time. I only knew that the only male victor from district four who was still alive was Finnick. I didn’t want him to fight again. I don’t know why, but suddenly I got worried about him, because the actual thought of the third quarter reaping didn’t really seem interesting to me. As I thought before, I wanted to die. The chances though for me becoming the victor next to Finnick were low, because there was Mags who raised him up and a redhead girl, Annie Cresta who has won the 70th Hunger Games.

When you think that you are on the edge, it’s only the beginning of the things that can turn into your worst dreams. I would have never noticed or cared about the third quarter reaping if Johanna didn't show up to talk to me.

This was me. Everything about me could change in a matter of two seconds. This was how I felt about Finnick now. Who knows how I will feel about him tomorrow, next week or even next month? But did it count? If you thought that you aren’t worthy of love?

“Mind if I take you for a dance?” A low, smooth voice whispered in my ear. Oh, Finnick. His hands were on my shoulders, warm hands on my cold skin. I smiled slightly, closing my eyes as his voice sent tingles down on my spine. I stood up from the table, staring up at him while he took one of my hands and slowly led me where other people were dancing as well.

Waltz. Should be fine.

When he faced me, I suddenly got the urge to swallow. Before I could place one of my hands on his shoulder, his was already on the top of my waist, his fingers laying on the delicate fabric of my dress. As he looked down at me I felt all flustered, in my stomach knots started to form. My breath suddenly got shallow like I was nervous. His hand on my skin felt heavenly, I almost let out a sigh by the feelings. Finn ran his fingers down on the skin of my right arm, making goosebumps appear on it. He slowly reached to my hand, taking it with his and holding it out so we were in a familiar position like all the other dancers.

I suddenly felt like all eyes were on me, making me inhale breaths that I didn’t know my lungs needed. He seemed to notice that, because his fingers started to rub my waist, the hand of mine that was holding his was rubbing my knuckles. His lips formed a smile, while mine were probably left open.

“Relax, it’s just a dance.” He whispered before he took the first step, making us turn around while the frills by the end of my dress went after his steps. I pressed my lips into a line, trying to move after him at the same speed as he moved.

“Loosen your limbs…” His voice came out softly, “-don't focus on it convulsively, let the music take you with itself.”

It was so easy to listen to his voice, it was music to my ears.

I breathed calmly now, moving after him with ease. We passed many pairs as we were spinning around the whole ballroom. To him, it was nothing but listening to the rhythm of the music. Maybe he didn’t even pay attention to it, because his face was focused on something completely different.

“You know, if you are not throwing death glares at me I must say you are really beautiful.” His quiet voice brought me back to real life again, out of my thoughts while I registered what he just said to me. I let out a scoff.

“Stop with the charming behavior. We both know this is not you.” I said while he leant his head to the left side, looking at me with a slight smile on his lips.

“Saying the truth is charming to you?” Finnick asked while raising his arm with mine up above our heads making me twirl around.

I turned back towards him as he pulled me in by the waist, his hand slowly sliding down. I stared at his lips for a moment before I leant my face a little bit away from his. He was too close to me now.

“You know how to twist out my words, don’t you?” I asked while leaning my chin up, staring into his sea green eyes. “Finnick, don’t make me regret my decision.”

He chuckled.

After some time I realized that my head has been resting on his shoulder for quite a good time now, and he was swaying us both to the music. It felt comfortable, I don't think I ever felt like this since the age of ten.

He smelled really nice, fresh and earthy. My nose was really close to his pulse point, my ears able to hear the pumping of his blood between his veins. His hand was now completely leaving my waist, resting on my hip. In fact, he had his lower arm draped around me. Finnick was holding me impossibly close to him, letting me feel the warmth of his body. His hand that was holding mine still, intertwined his fingers with mine. My hand slid down from his shoulder to his biceps, squeezing the skin under his suit jacket.

I slowly raised my head up as I heard the soft music overlap the previous one. That’s why I didn’t hear it change.

“How long has it been?” I asked while he looked behind me, then right back into my eyes.

“Three songs.” He whispered.

“Aren’t you tired?” I asked while he let out a small laugh.

“No, but I’m afraid that your feet will hurt because I assume you are wearing heels.”

“Oh, no. I’m wearing sandals, they have a heel, but it’s only an inch, maybe two.” I muttered.

He bit his lower lip slightly while I kept looking up at him. Suddenly I felt like it was only the two of us in the whole ballroom and no one else mattered. I felt my lips form a genuine, real smile.

“What I said a minute earlier…” He started, “- I really meant it. You are hopelessly gorgeous. I know that we are not pretty close, and we aren’t really the best kind of friends, but that’s enough for me. It’s enough, because if you act like yourself around me I feel like I already earnt something. Because I lo…”

Before he could say it I leant up on my tip toes and pressed my lips slightly against his, making Finnick close his eyes as our lips slowly moved against each other in sync.

In that moment I felt like I was high. Like I accomplished something that I knew that was inside of me for a really long time now. I never wanted to be left alone again. I never wanted to leave his side again. I wanted him to claim me like no one else did before.

When I pulled away for breath, he opened his eyes in a swift motion. I then stared at him, and something changed in his eyes. His pupils dilated, the blood rushed into his cheeks and his lips became swollen making him look desperate. His skin felt warmer than before, making me inch more into him.

“Do that again.” He breathed against my mouth while I let out a chuckle, kissing his sweet lips once again.

There were probably some girls, even women who stared at you, but I couldn’t care less. How could I when I was caged in his arms feeling safe as ever? I wrapped my left arm around his neck, my right one leaving his as it slid up from his chest up to join my other one around his neck. His arms wrapped around my waist, his lips feeling up mine while I sighed into his mouth, my knees buckling suddenly.

When he pulled away, a wide smile on his lips I leant my head back down on his shoulder as he kept swaying us to the gentle sound of the music.

Oh, Finnick Odair, you bring the best out of me. And I completely, truly and undoubtedly love you for that.

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x you #thg finnick #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #mockingjay part 2 #sam claflin #the hunger games fandom #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #josh hutcherson

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wellthatsclever · 1 month

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Symbols + Themes In Matthew 1-4, Pre-Ministry Life of Christ (KJV)

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#because i'm making my way through Matthew right now #Owen Broadcast #Matthew #book of Matthew #illustration #esoterica #Jesus #Jesus Christ #symbolism #ministry

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justinspoliticalcorner · 3 months

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Greg Owen at LGBTQ Nation:

A lawmaker with the ruling party of Georgia has introduced legislation that would strip the rights of same-sex couples, ban depictions of homosexuality in media, and outlaw all LGBTQ+-related gatherings. The chilling legislation bears all the hallmarks of Russian President Vladimir Putin’s efforts at LGBTQ+ erasure.

On Tuesday, Shalva Papuashvili, a leader of Georgia’s revanchist Dream party and the speaker of Georgia’s parliament, introduced legislation targeting what he described as “LGBT propaganda.” The bill, as well as amendments to 18 existing laws, would attack the LGBTQ+ community on several fronts. Same-sex marriages would not be registered, adoption would be limited to “heterosexuals,” and gender transition would be outlawed along with any “medical manipulation for the purpose of gender reassignment,” Papuashvili said. The legislation erases LGBTQ+ people from public spaces by ordering broadcasters, advertisers, and movie theaters to redact all content featuring same-sex relationships and positive portrayals of homosexuality for all ages. In a nod to both Putin and Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis (R), the bill bans schools in Georgia from providing information to students that “promotes belonging to the opposite sex, same-sex relations or incest.”

The country of Georgia is going down the same path that Russia and Hungary did: pass a law banning depictions of LGBTQ+ people in media and all public LGBTQ+ exposure.

#Georgia #Caucasus #World News #LGBTQ+#Anti LGBTQ+ Extremism #Russia #Anti Trans Extremism #Transgender #Gender Affirming Healthcare #Criminalization of Trans Health #Transgender Erasure #LGBTQ+ Erasure #Shalva Papuashvili

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onthecrescentofthehill · 5 months

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Save The Phenomenon - Dungeon Meshi Fanmix

spotify | youtube

General mix, focused on the latter half of the series, but no outright spoilers.

tracklist and lyric selections ⬇️

1: A Carrot Is As Close As A Rabbit Gets To A Diamond - Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band (Instrumental)

2: Ten Legs - Moondog

3: Save the Phenomenon - Fievel Is Glaque

Give me what's better wrong Save the phenomenon As steam stays under the lid

4: Mole in the Ground - Karen Dalton

5: Camel Swallowed Whole - JEFF The Brotherhood

Wine and milk and sweet honey too War beyond Earth and truth beyond You Silver daggers, auctioned treasures Unwise promises, unwise pleasures

6: How Will I Find You? - Jeff Tweedy

7: Weird Sisters - Sparklehorse

A big wind spitting female, rain and teeth The dark wolves fell upon me, wools and fleece

Chimera Falin vibes...idk...

8: The Lamb Ran Away with the Crown - Judee Sill

Though the beast within me's a liar He made me glow with a strange desire

9: Undertaker - Thinking Fellers Union Local 282

10: Hideous Towns - The Sundays

Don't ask me why, don't ask me why I joined the army, but it drove me barmy And it didn't help

Track for Laios...

11: Who Could Win A Rabbit - Animal Collective

Where's the time required for your health? Been hating on my new perspective Been hurrying along, no meal is ever done

12: Shapeshifter - Richard Dawson

13: I'm Going Out Of My Way - Stereolab

Get all those ghosts out of my sight, they devour all of my might

14: About to Die - Dirty Projectors

You reach out and into the absence and gasping The vastness grabs you like an alien embrace

15: Subject To the Ladder - Broadcast

Ruled as a juvenile, aged as an infantile Subject to the ladder, subject to the ladder Ruined by affection, excepted by exception

Thistle song :^(

16: Hold Together ( Let Go If You Will ) - Diane Cluck

Continents shift so wide They drift until they crash on this world's other side

General post-canon but I like it as a Kabru song.

17: Better Than Worse - Owen Pallett

Better than worse Is free from the curse And when I came to It'd all been reversed

Another Kabru track :^)

18: Caged Dogs Run Wild - Milk Music (Instrumental)

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #fanmix #i put a lot of work into this had a lot of fun hope u like it #laios touden #falin touden #thistle dungeon meshi #kabru #tagging these characters bc they have some specific tracks but that's up to your interpretation lol.....

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total-drama-brainrot · 5 months

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When my cat is misbehaving, I threaten to give her hugs and kisses, until she runs and hides, so... TD Noah AU, where the ONLY thing that can truly scare Noah is getting hugged, kissed and shown affection in public... When Noah tries to skip the dodgeball challenge, Owen (his best friend) playfully threatens to cuddle Noah on the sidelines, unless Noah helps the team... Noah quickly agrees to help with a grumpy blush on his face... Alejandro thinks that this fact is hilarious! 😸

I can see this. Noah's got a reputation to uphold, after all. A reputation of being an insufferable know-it-all asshole, sure, but it's a reputation none the less. Letting people know that he likes being hugged? Mortifying. His worst fear- it goes against His Brand™.

Him being afraid of PDA, platonic romantic or otherwise, is a pretty funny idea when you consider the fact that his best friend Owen is more-or-less infamous for dragging people into his arms at the drop of a dime. He lives under the constant threat of an Owen-brand hug attack, anywhere, anytime, and that fact terrifies him.

Actually, in this scenario, I think Owen would be a little more conservative with his clinginess concerning Noah - he's not that inconsiderate, and he'd know that Noah's not a fan of public affection (but secretly just as much of a hugger as he is). Not that he's be any less tactile, he'd just be quicker to apologise for unthinkingly showing his best buddy his affections.

To bring it back to the Dodgebrawl episode:

By this point in the series, Noah and Owen have shared a cabin for (assumedly) six nights and had around a week to build their friendship. They're not as close as they are in World Tour, but that's more than enough time for Noah to know about Owen's cuddliness and, in turn, for Owen to know about Noah's physical evasiveness.

But, at this point I think Owen would be under the impression that Noah's entirely touch averse as opposed to just PDA averse. It's during this challenge that his initial assumption starts to shift towards the truth.

Owen notices that Noah's refusal to participate is getting him some negative attention from the rest of the team, and in a moment of quick thinking volunteers himself as the next person to sit out before Noah can make his "keeners" comment. Noah's a little ticked off by this, and tries to argue that Owen would be a more useful team member then him, but Owen comments something about Noah needing to get some team spirit via "motivational hugs" (or something along those lines) and suddenly Noah is very much okay with not going anywhere near Owen or the benches.

Curiously, Owen notices, Noah hesitates at his offer for a hug. For a moment he looked almost considerate, before his face flushes with embarrassment (which he staunchly denies afterwards, since Noah's adamant that he doesn't get embarrassed) and he vehemently denies needing one, quickly resigning himself to actually helping the team instead. It's just enough to get the cogs turning in Owen's mind; apparently, hugs work as negative reinforcement for Noah.

Owen's more than happy to abuse this fact to prompt Noah into actually trying during challenges. Talent show? Owen subtly threatens to hug Noah unless he, at the very least, tries to showcase a talent. Phobia Factor? Owen offers moral support via affection to motivate Noah into facing his phobia (whatever it may be) and the threat of being publicly coddled is enough to have Noah disregard his fear entirely and complete the challenge. Ect ect.

Owen has his suspicions, but things aren't cleared up for him until after Island is over and done with. Wherein Owen confronts Noah about the quirk he's pick up on, and Noah- now reassured that his every action isn't being recorded and potentially broadcast for the world to see- admits that he actually kind of likes being hugged, but doesn't like public displays of affection. It's a secret he'd only share with his best friend. So Owen promises to keep quiet about it (which as we all know isn't something Owen's very good at, but he tries his best) and resolves to save the majority of his tactile-ness for when they're in private.

Leading to World Tour, where Owen utilises this same trick he used in Island to have Noah pull his weight on the team. Like he's a border collie wrangling the world's grumpiest sheep.

Alejandro's quick to pick up on this repeated exchange, and quicker to connect the dots. Somehow, the threat of affection seems to motivate their laziest team mate into picking up his slack; of course he too takes advantage of this fact.

Noah, understandably, is pretty pissed off that two of his team members are now using his completely rational aversion towards PDA against him, and eventually snaps.

If it's Owen who tests his last line of patience, Noah would be a little more considerate in his confrontation. He'd ask why Owen's so intent on trying to smother him to death with hugs (especially when he knows that Noah doesn't like the public aspect of it), to which Owen would sheepishly answer that, whilst he's always been a pretty physically affectionate guy, he's also been using the threat of cuddles to motivate Noah into trying his best. Noah would be torn between being genuinely impressed by Owen's cunning and absolutely mortified that he's been playing into his best friend's scheme for so long. And Owen would reassure him that there's nothing for him to be embarrassed about and that he knows that Noah's "afraid of PDA" and Noah would outright deny that accusation because he's not afraid of PDA, that's absurd, he's just reasonably against it.

To which Owen would challenge him into proving he's not afraid, because he's a little shit who's intentionally tricking his best friend into giving him a goddamn hug. Which works, of course, since Noah's pretty prideful and wouldn't take an attack against his ego sitting down (which is something we see in his boy kissing denials in Haute Camp-ture), so Noah ends up being the one to initiate a hug with his chubby buddy. And Owen takes the opportunity to literally smother him in affection, and Noah quickly forgets his hesitance in his enjoyment of Owen-brand cuddles, at least until someone else walks in on the display and comments on the novelty of Noah actually letting someone else touch him.

The scene can play out however you want from there.

If it's Alejandro who breaks Noah's last straw the confrontation would be a little less cordial , Since Noah and Owen already have an understanding between them, whilst Alejandro just sort of jumped on the band wagon as he saw fit. Noah wouldn't appreciate the sudden change in behaviour and he's sharp enough to know exactly what Alejandro's playing at too- that is, using Noah's obvious aversion to PDA against him. It's a coin toss as to whether Noah figures out that both Owen and Alejandro are playing him, or if he just thinks that Alejandro is being a dick for the sake of, well, being a dick.

In this scenario, I imagine Noah either recoiling away from Alejandro trying to do something that just pushes the boundary between casual and overly friendly, like a one-armed hug or trying to hold his hand, and/or outright punching him away. Because he's not about that energy, and Alejandro's been testing both his boundaries and his patience for far too long.

So Noah would put his foot down, demanding to know why Alejandro keeps being so tactile with him. And Alejandro would in turn explain that he's just a touchy person, since he's shown a tendency for such in his many flirting attempts, and Noah would immediately call his bullshit because he knows that Alejandro only ever gets up close and personal with other people when he's trying to seduce them and- wait.

Is Alejandro trying to seduce him?

To which Alejandro immediately denies, because that really wasn't his intention at all, he was just utilizing Noah's avoidance towards physical touch to motivate him into being a better teammate- and he's just admitted his (and Owen's) whole scheme to the guy himself. As a result Noah is even more upset; not only is Alejandro making him uncomfortable, but he's knowingly doing so. As a strategy for the competition they're in.

Again, a small part of him is astounded by the play, but for the most part Noah's just incredibly pissed off. Alejandro tries to mitigate the situation by turning the absurdity on it back at Noah; why is he so against something as negligible as human contact? His prickliness is a detriment to himself and their team, Alejandro's simply doing him a favour by getting him accustomed to others' proximity. Is Noah really that scared of a hug?

And again, it plays out like the Owen situation where Noah denies being scared at all, because he's far too prideful for his own good, and Alejandro challenges him into letting himself be held and not punching him again because Alejandro is also too prideful for his own good and sees Noah's constant rejection of him as a direct insult to his charm.

Cue a scene where Noah irately subjects himself to actually hugging Alejandro as petulantly as possible, only for his secret love of physical affection to get the better of him.

Alejandro is surprised, to say the least, when the stiff and uncooperative form of Noah seems to melt in his arms after a few moments of their spite-fuelled hug. Thus Alejandro becomes the next victim of the Noahla Bear- a creature hellbent on trapping others in his vice-like embrace.

(And as a treat, maybe add in some touch-starved Alejandro here? Who's torn between the internal battle of "I should be doing something productive with this free time, not letting the resident twink cuddle me to death" and "yeah, but have you considered the fact that you've never felt this safe and secure in someone else's arms since you weren't held as a child?")

#lots of hugging happening in my inbox for some reason #odd but i guess it's cute so i'm not complaining #anon's so right about noah being a grumpy cat who runs away at the first sign of affection #kin assigning Miette to noah so i can make characters kick him like the football #total drama #td noah #td owen #td alejandro #nowen #alenoah #others' ideas #replies #kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)#💡 anon

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