#Thank you for the request. The motif of the piece was a bit hard to figure out. But that was part of the fun <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[otomotoelzhinee]

Okie doke, I'm not sure if you know him well, but uhh... try drawing Kid Klown from the Kid Klown series (yes I am asking you to draw a clown because he's my fictional son) (yes my son has his own series it's comprised of like 5 or 6 games) (I asked, you can draw, and I will draw a Crayman comic for you if you do •v<)

Bet :^) Here he is!! Thank you so much for your patience, in compensation, here's a cake for your troubles from Kid himself!

Oh-- OH NO! KID, WATCH OUT!!

Oh, well... It's the intention that counts, right?

Fear not, you can still download this from my ko-fi in HQ, for free <3

[mmmmalo]

Been reading all of your psychosexual analysis of homestuck + it's characters and god this stuff is fascinating. It can be real hard to find any writing on sexuality, kinks and fetishes in fandoms but it seems that hs is almost like a gold mine when it comes to this topic thanks to the coming-of-age theme. The murder = sex post hasn't left my head since I read it and now when I see any scene mention / involve either of the two I can't help but think about how the other could be relevant. Never thought suicidal ideation could be so masturbatory before this.

Glad to say your posts have helped me get a slightly better understanding of anything I read. I'd never really thought much about things like positioning of characters in frames / panels, sequences of events and choice of words since I didn't really care for literary analysis before I got into homestuck. Sort of a 'came for the cool flashes, stayed for the writing' type situation, which is a pipeline that makes me thankful for the animations Hussie made because I'd only ever inferred that the writing was bad from conversations I'd seen people having about hs.

Anyway, you talked about how Rose's fear of drowning (loss of control) correlates to her non-con kink and now I'm wondering what you think the other characters fears suggest about their sexual interests? I'd assume John's fear of heights has something to do with the fall, and from there some sort of corruption kink / a fetish for anything generally 'sinful'; which would explain his interest in 'bad' girls like Vriska (and the way he eagerly adopts her mannerisms).

The planets tend to include each kid's fears / insecurities so it's not exactly hard to figure those out, but I'm not sure whether I'm making the "right" connections, since I'm just making the best with what I have (bare minimum literary knowledge) and homestuck makes a lot of references to outside works.

Extra request: if you've got any good books / posts / articles / whatevers on psychosexuality or such please tell me. I'm curious and bored

I'm glad you're getting something out of the blog! Goofy fetish talk is kind of rare, but it is striking when you find it: I watched Good Luck Chuck at Karkat's recommendation and that turned out to be a central motif. Sex/death substitution is a bit more common... here's a write up on Pulp Fiction you might like. You might also like these posts by SMG on Prometheus, he is the one who introduced me to a lot of the storytelling strategies I discuss on this blog. More generally though, I recommend looking for articles about movies you like and adding "psychoanalysis" to the search -- if nothing else, it's an easy way to find people who take sexual symbolism seriously.

Evaluating your own accuracy is tricky, but I can only recommend that you regard your current model of the story as provisional. Even as you search for information that strengthens your current understanding of the story, you'll likely stumble upon another framework that works just as well or better. Keep an open mind, some things have multiple answers

Re: fear-becomes-fetish motifs, the last major piece I wrote in this vein was about Dave, I think? It's kind of outdated though. My focus on individual psychologies faltered as I reoriented myself towards like, similar fear>fetish material on a societal level. One example: people inclined to worry about being Replaced by other races are the impetus for miscegenation porn, which repurposes feelings of resentment and inferiority for titillation -- this gets channeled into the "black always mates white" narrative of doom in Sburb, Derse (black) launching "seeds" at Prospit (white)/Skaia, Caliborn sexualizing his predomination over Calliope, etc. You can see traces of this narrative show up in characters like Kanaya (who agrees with Eridan that race purity matters, only to be haunted by cuck jokes like Watching Oblong Meat Products Tumble Into Places They Dont Belong) but its not like she even knows what black people are -- she's an alien. So when she tearfully agrees that Dirk can take better care of her wife than she ever could, it only /refers/ to the miscegenation porn structure, casting Kanaya as the impotent observer suffering yet another Lalondian "black out". There's a degree of abstraction at play that makes it difficult to say Kanaya "has" the kink being discussed through her, at least not in its entirety.

All of which is to say that while the kink angle is occasionally useful, it's not my current approach. Like you technically can link Jade's fear of lightning to her being a furry, but despite John explicitly referring to furry as a kink thing (and Jade having a daughter named Yiffy), the earliest reference to furry stuff is better parsed in terms of misogyny and transphobia, imo. You might be able to find more stuff indicating that Egbert secretly enjoys the Fall of Man (like her professed love of apocalypse movies, or the cheeky Save Rose From Corruption roleplay), but also the entry item could indicate a fixation on the Adam's Apple in the throat, as an early hint of June motifs. Or maybe I've just been away from this methodology for too long, and Egbert's traumatic fall from the slimer pogo indicates that the fear of heights should be linked to manbro bukkake theatre??? Idk, but again, that's not really my element anymore

[thlayli-ra]

Which 5 fics you've written are your favorites or most proud of?

Ooh! Thank you Anon for slipping into my askbox with a lovely little question. Must admit, this was hard! I'm proud of most of my fics so whittling it down to just five was tricky but here goes;

1. Flint and Steel - I feel like this is the best writing I've ever done. I wrote it back when I had bags of time to edit and re-read what I'd written previously so it's a better coherent story. I love the world-building, the imagery, the harsh but beautiful love story. This is probably still my best work to date and I really hope to finish the series one day and do it justice!

2. Would You Offer Your Throat To The Wolf - This one just feels... special to me. It's the most brutal, graphic and depressing fic that I've written and my first foray into pure horror but was very liberating to write. It also felt like something of an event at the time - I'd been building up towards it here on Tumblr so when I finally posted it, it kinda had its own little following. It's also a fic that has prompted so many incredible comments and feedback from readers, many of which said it inspired their own writing and that is just so cool to me!

3. When We're Alone - Of all my fics, this is probably my own little personal favourite (and one of my least popular 😂). It's a silly, little Underpunk fluff piece set in the Valetverse AU. I just loved writing a hopelessly un-domesticated Punk trying (and failing miserably) to nurse Taker back to health while he was injured. I usually write Punk as very intense and moody so having him in more of a comedy role was a lot of fun (although he's still very moody!)

4. The Moon Rises Red Tonight - My other unloved little baby! It's a close second for my personal favourite fic. It's utter self-indulgence - I wanted all four of my faves to fuck! That's it! That's the premise! But, because it's me, and I'm god-awful at writing smut, it somehow turned into a porn with plot fic, focusing in on politics, corruption, and trauma, whilst also being rather light-hearted and wholesome. And filthy too! It's a weird bag! I adore the au, I adore all the flawed characters and their self-discovery throughout and I want to draw and write more for it in the future.

5. The Chain - Sometimes, a moment sticks in your head and magic happens. That Smackdown where Drew carried a bloody Punk to the ramp and dumped his carcass for all of his hometown to see was....... [local dogs start barking]. I had to write something for it! Originally it was going to be another headcanon essay talking about a motif I'd used in several fics of Punk and AJ being connected by a chain with hooks embedded in their chests when it dawned on my to actually write a fic about it, resulting in this twisted soulmate au. To me, it's a perfect little fic, a beautiful gemstone in my collection and I'm very proud of it.

[Honourary Mention - Yes, I'm cheating here but I couldn't not mention my most popular fic The Valets of WWE. Despite it easily being my worst in terms of writing prowess, it's a huge personal achievement for me. It had a massive cast and was heavily influenced by reader requests and input so I had to think on my feet for every chapter and change things up on the fly sometimes. I also had to write for characters I didn't know very well during an era that I admittedly didn't really watch (no, I'd never seen any Legacy or Social Outcasts footage until writing this fic!!!) so that was a bit nerve-wracking. But despite the challenges, I managed to create this huge, intricate soap opera, that had so many interlinking storylines and plot threads, that had characters bouncing off each other constantly and even if it reads more like a script than narrative, I'm still very proud of it and I always look forward to returning to the valetverse for more!]

[merakime]

Hi, I've been reading your work for a while and I think it's lovely. I'm a bit shy and embarrassed to make requests, but I really like your writting.

If it's not too much to ask, I could request Qanipalaat and his Operator!S/O giving each other gifts as a courtship, but being from different cultures, neither understand what each other's gifts mean, until suddenly it all clicks and they feel kind of silly that they didn't understand it before.

＃AS PER CUSTOM ! ft. qanipalaat

───── a / n: anon, oh my god …. ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) thank you so much !! i do not bite unless provoked i prommy … and this request is so so adorable i had to get to it FAST !! i hope i can do this justice … the cultural details i kept a little vague for your imagination, but i based qanipalaat’s side off of his promotion record mostly! ( the record is not a necessary read, but it might help understand a certain aspect better! )

no cw — word count: 742 — fluff !!

at first, you didn’t think too much of it. qanipalaat arrived at rhodes island with a bunch of gifts for everyone – charms and amulets, instruments and botanical specimens native to sami. you adored the instrument he had given you so excitedly, and decided to share with him some of your own culture. you can’t forget his expression when you handed him your gift – he looked a sort of starstruck.

his enthusiasm is almost contagious – he begins to bring in more gifts for everyone, and you are always overjoyed to give something back. his returns, to you, are even more anticipated – you wonder.. what has he got for you this time? you must prepare a gift yourself before he returns. you begin to dive deep into your research, trying to find more ways to convey your appreciation with your handicrafts! 

qanipalaat is fond of the little gifts you give him, he made space on a shelf to flaunt them! he doesn’t know exactly what they mean, but it’s the feeling that matters to him – he knows his culture is something deeply important to him, and he likes sharing this love with the people who helped his tribe. his culture, through his gifts, are pieces of him he entrusts to you – is it a similar sentiment to you? he wonders.

it becomes a little tradition of yours – though his gift-giving began to let up for the others overtime (after a certain box incident), for you he always had something when he came back from home. and you always make sure to make something for him, or bring something from back home.

one day he came back with a beautiful box – you braced yourself, the intricate carvings and linings making an unpleasant memory resurface.. but there was no smell coming from the box, other than a cold, fresh mist. a scent somewhat similar to qanipalaat himself, you noted. either way, you felt relief. 

“i brought you something!”, qanipalaat chimes, letting himself into your room.

a familiar tenderness washed over you with his voice. with time, it became one of your favorite things to hear. some kind of pavlov maneuver, you thought – that sentence alone, paired with his toothy grin and glimmering eyes, was more exciting than the gift itself. you missed him, truly.

behind your back, you squeeze the little craft you’ve made for him. 

“what is it?”, when you ask, it’s hard to keep your voice truly even. there’s that contagious excitement of his – it makes your throat waver. you find your eyes lingering on the intricate details of the box – you’ve never seen something like this, but you recognized the motifs and patterns in the carvings from other gifts he had given you.

the small box was sealed with a little plate of metal – he pushed it aside and opened the chest, and your mouth almost fell open with it. it looked like something much more valorous than all of his previous gifts. the amulet laid comfortably in a swab of fur, shiny silver sparkling in the light, looking freshly-faceted. 

you were smitten. you suppose that that was the final blow.

to everyone it was not a surprise when you two became official. the suspicion was already present – the reveal wasn’t particularly shocking. people were already used to your antics. that has its advantages – that means nothing much (in terms of treatment, at least) would change toward you two, so you could go about your routine in peace. your gift giving tradition persists.

though at one point, when you are revisiting your gifts – you notice something on the roof of the amulet box. you were so mesmerized by the silver glow that you didn’t notice the light inscription above said object – you recognized these letters, yes, it was sami script. you couldn’t read it, but now you were truly curious – why did you never ask what the gifts meant? silly you! in your excitement, it slipped your mind.. you begin to notice more details – there are some recurring words across the gifts. you have to ask him, now.

when you catch him again and you haul the question at him – that was the most flustered that you’ve seen qanipalaat. really, usually he was quick to bounce back, but your question had him entirely at loss. when he began to translate the words upon the gifts, many words of adoration, love and kind blessings, you feel like your face was lit aflame. you couldn’t respond when he looked back at you for a response, words stuck in your throat.

───── ending note: i hope you enjoyed this !! i tried my best in trying to make the experience a little more neutral on the readers part to allow more space to insert your own culture, i hope i succeeded ... ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ) during production tumblr kept moving my "keep reading" tab and i almost ragequit twice but i powered through for qanipalaat.........

[afteas2003]

depending on your music tastes, this oc question might be hard (or incredibly easy lmao).

is there a score or instrumental piece of music you associate with your oc(s)? if so, why? what about the music makes you think of them or feels like them? if you don't know enough scores/instrumentals to feel confident answering, then maybe a song where the lyrics may not match your oc/their story, but the energy, sound or vibes of the song does.

and if you earnestly don't have answers for the previous requests, throw any oc-relevant song at me. slap me with it like a mackerel.

oooooooh, this is a fun question, I may know enough instrumental songs to pull it off. Plus have some other OCs I have made 0 other content for.

Enriel: there's probably better scores for him out there but I chose Aria Math by C418, it is the same motif repeated over and over again. It remains unresolved throughout the score and even ends with the motif unfinished. It has an undercurrent of melancholy that swells and subsides through the piece. I feel like this is fitting for my experience with apathy where it goes from plain nothingness to the deafening self awareness that you have no choice except the nothingness. but in the end remains seemingly inescapable and monotonous.

Fern: Together We Map the World by John Powell. The beginning is a peaceful reccurant theme that makes my heart ache a bit perhaps just because of the nostalgia of this song, but to me it represents Fern's being found by Peter and a bit of the emotion of leaving everything familiar for a chance and home. Then the mid part is kind of a funky lil thing that just reminds me of like shenanigans and chaos the lost boys would get into with Fern. The ending feels like Fern realizing that these people have become his family and they finally do feel like they have a home, with a bit of heart ache of wishing they had this all along.

Peter: I actually have several songs for Peter but one that ties in with Fern's a bit is See You Tomorrow by John Powell. This one just kind of feels like the bravado and chaos in Peter's daily life of leading and taking care of the Lost Boys, making them feel safe and at home, inciting fun and mischief to give them the childhood they didn't get before. Then at the end a change of pace with a bit of the sadness, stress, and melancholy he tends to hide from the boys. After the chaos and fun of the day is over and he is alone.

Thank you for the ask! This was a really fun and kind of challenging one to answer. Hope I answered it how you were thinking!

[wiypt-writes]

Murder, He Wrote

Part 6.

Summary: Ransom and you attend a wake for his great-nanna Wanetta, with the rest of his family. The knives are out, and they’re sharp…

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So here it is, the penultimate chapter to this series! One more to go post this, plus an epilogue. I can’t believe it’s almost over…

Word Count: 9.5k (oops)

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18���get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 5

 You'd managed to get through Christmas fairly well. The days leading up, Ransom had been a little suspiciously sneaky but you didn't give it a second thought, really. Things between you and your captor were more than amicable, they were pleasant. But, despite the cohabitation and this new found demeanour in him, Ransom wasn't above reminding you that you were still under his eye. And under his eye you were indeed, all day long. He watched you as you read, as you cooked, as you wrote in your journal. Oddly, not once showing interest in your musings but working away on his own. 

Christmas morning, the two of you had spent a few lazy hours in bed, Ransom waking you with kisses over your bare skin, stripped down and tired from the evening before where he worked you over until you couldn't move, crying out his name near midnight, his breathless, tired voice telling you 'Merry Christmas' before he slept. After an easy egg and toast breakfast, the two of you were sitting around the lounge, the fire burning, the tree lit, soft music played in the background, watching a fresh layer of snow falling outside. You were reading Dickens' holiday classic, aloud while Ransom sat next to you, idling running a long index finger over your neck in slow and soft, up and down strokes, listening to you. Suddenly he'd stopped and removed the book from your hands. 

"I have something for you," he said, a slight eagerness to his tone. He slipped away for a brief moment, pulling a box, intricately wrapped, clearly not by himself, from under the tree. You'd never noticed it there, not once and you wondered when he'd put it there or if he'd hidden it in the very spot this whole time. 

The red leather box sat heavy in your hand as you read the gold inscription on the top. With an unsteady breath, you lifted the hinged lid and hitched your breath at what sat inside. A white gold necklace, with two interlocking rings in a signature Cartier design glistened back at you. The screw motifs which were set in ideal oval shaped rings studded with diamonds that twinkled in the light sat snuggly inside against black velvet.

You were stunned. The gesture far too expensive and in your mind inappropriate. But you also thought it was absolutely gorgeous, and you wondered how he'd come up with such an expensive idea. You'd not mentioned anything of the sort in your time together, in fact, you hadn't had jewellery on bar your ball studs in your ears now.

You looked up from the delicate piece and your eyes met expectant ones. "It's beautiful," you spoke softly. "Thank you."

"Let me put it on you," he sat next you whilst taking the box from your hands. He gently pulled it away from the box and unclasped it, settling it around your neck as you moved your hair out of the way, thin tendrils framing your face. Your robe slipped off your shoulder and you felt his soft lips against your skin, down your neck and along your shoulder. "Let me see you," he spoke softly.

You turned in his direction and you saw the way he admired the way the piece sat across your chest, the silk robe you were wearing over your barely-there nightgown gaping open. As his eyes blatantly roved down between the valley of your breasts your own flicked across his casual, lazy-Christmas morning form, his broad chest and shoulders clad in a white thermal, sweats hung low on his hips.

"Perfect," he whispered, leaning towards you.

You were not a bought woman, no; you were his victim, his roommate, his co-habitant, his lover, his partner, his... Oh for Christ's sake you could go on with the labels that did or didn't make sense, were mutual or not, had or didn't carry the weight of a proper explanation. Right now, you were going through the motions and emotions.

"I like it, a lot, thank you again," you replied as his lips grew closer to yours. "I've never had such an expensive gift before."

His lips ghosted over yours, "There's plenty more where that came from, Sweetheart."

The implication of his words had hit you like a freight train as you realised just how many more ‘occasions’ he was planning on the pair of you spending together. New Year, Easter, Spring Break, your birthday, his birthday, summer, Memorial Day. It sparked so many conflicting opinions within you that you were glad of the distraction when he moved, his fingers delicate as he undid the ties of your robe and led you down on the rug before his lips had traced a path down your body and soon he’d had you crying his name, sheer bliss coursing through your veins.

Later that day, you'd made dinner for him, a reminder of how Christmas used to be when Wanetta and his Grandmother shared the festivities. After the quiet meal, he had expected you to join him for a shower, no doubt as pay back for him going down on you earlier. When you'd respectfully declined stating you needed to wash the dishes, he sneered and sulked off. You'd made sure that when he was gone long enough, you were able to get things set up for your gift. Now was the time to show Ransom how gifts of meaning and purpose were to be given and hopefully received. Not that it was going to make a blind bit of difference to your situation, not in the grand scheme of things anyway. You'd finished cleaning and putting everything away and headed into the lounge where you stoked the fire and then made your way back into the kitchen for your supplies. The hot cocoa burning hot, the slices of bread, tongs and a small serving of butter, complete with freshly blended cinnamon sugar. You knew he would come find you when you were not waiting in the bedroom for him. If Ransom Drysdale was anything, it was a creature of expectation and habit. You'd heard him coming down the stairs, that one spot with a creak carrying his footfall. You straightened up your things, setting up the tongs and tray of treats nicely before covering them with a cloth napkin, standing between the coffee table and the fireplace, and waited on baited breath for the tirade you thought was coming. He had turned the corner, his face stern with evident hard lines, his bare chest on display, hair still wet from the shower. You could smell him as he entered the doorway, that scent that you'd soon come to realize made you heady and needy. You waved him over, a hunt of excitement to your tone, "come on, come sit." “I don’t want to sit, Sweetheart, I want you like I had you before dinner. Crying my name with you under me.” He stood just inside the doorway, with his arms folded across his chest, sweats hung low on his hips. He wore no shirt just to entice you, but you weren't giving in so easily.  "I'll say your name as many times as you want, but first, I need to give you my gift." You chose then to look at him with big eyes, sincere yet seductive. 

It was a stare off between the two of you, he not budging and you popping your hip out to one side as you folded your arms over your chest. He had his fun, now you wanted to enjoy something and gift giving brought you joy. 

Like a child told to apologize for hitting another, he hung his head and sulked over. You could tell it pained him to obey your request. But you again saw through his facade. You knew this meant far more to him than anything he'd ever received.

But he'd never tell you that. Not that you thought anyway. “Oh stop being so you, Ransom, for just five minutes.” You snorted exasperatedly at his petulant nature. “It’s Christmas.” With a roll of his eyes that would make any toddler jealous, he took to his knees sitting on his heels. With a smirk, you joined him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, "Merry Christmas, Ransom." You pulled the napkin off the tray revealing the contents of your gift. His eyes moved over the tray, first seeing the mugs of cocoa, topped with whipped cream that was beginning to melt into the warm liquid. The tongs, the bread, the small pinch bowls of cinnamon sugar and the soft butter. With his mind occupied, you managed to grab a throw and wrap it around the two of you. He blinked, and you could see that he was fighting the smirk that was threatening to cross his handsome face. “Toast?” He finally asked and you nodded, smiling. "I couldn't go get you something, not that it mattered, so this was the next best thing." A flicker of something darkened his face, and for a moment you thought you saw regret flash in his eyes, just like the day he had marked your face but as soon as it had appeared it was gone. "Just enjoy it, even if you can't say anything about it, just...." you shrugged, "remember." That night, after the toast with cinnamon butter and cocoa from scratch were shared, he had his way with you, delightfully slow, once more by the fire, you again crying out his name and he yours, over and over again. By the time he finished, you were both boneless and breathless, his body covering yours until he rolled over and the two of you slept by the fire, wrapped up in each other's arms, the heavy throw around your naked bodies.

Christmas had been nice. Maybe, somewhat enjoyable, you'd admitted to yourself. Of course, the wrench of not seeing your family had weighed like a stone in your gut, compounded by the fact that thanks to the lie you’d been forced to tell Blanc, they thought this was your choice. That you were staying away from them because you wanted to, when nothing could be further from the truth. You missed your mom and dad goofing around over presents, still trying to tell your now well grown-up sister and you Santa had been. You ached for the usual family politics that manifested when your uncles and aunts descended for dinner. You longed for your sister to be complaining about how fat she was going to get…

"We have to go," Ransom’s deep baritone caught you completely off guard, making you jump as you stood staring out of the large French windows over the garden from the master suite.

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, taking a deep breath to centre yourself, your heart racing at the speed of light from your fright. You took a glance at yourself in the mirror above the fireplace and found yourself wishing you’d done a better job at covering up the ugly scab and green bruising on your face.

You followed Ransom in his tan coat, pin striped slacks and a black cashmere sweater as he strode from the room. You felt nervous, anxious, scared. This was the first time you were leaving the house in two months. He led you to the garage where you started walking to the SUV he'd taken you in but he stopped you short, calling out to you, "not this time, Sweetheart." He stood at the passenger door to his vintage BMW. You swallowed and walked towards the door he was holding open for you. Wordlessly, you sank into the passenger seat and reached for your belt. Pulling it across your lap, you adjusted the pencil skirt and blouse you'd tucked into so as not to wrinkle it, your soft black peacoat bluky in your seat. The car roared to life, throbbing beneath you, the hum of the engine might, in other circumstances, have excited you. But now, the only thing filling you was dread. The first time you’re out of your "castle", and it's to go to a wake, for Wanetta Thrombey.

Go figure. ***** The silence in the car was stifling. Every so often Ransom stole a glance at Y/N to find her simply staring out of the window, at one stage reaching up to wipe her eye. He didn’t say anything, but he wasn’t an idiot. Over Christmas he’d caught her numerous time completely zoned out, as if she was somewhere else, just like she had been moments before they had left. And whilst she’d done her best to keep her tears and attitude at bay, she’d been clipped with him a number of times which he’d simply let slide and instead of reminding her about her attitude, he’d pressed her to tell him what was wrong. She’d quietly admitted that she missed her family, something Ransom simply couldn’t understand, so in the spirit of their recent candid openness, he’d asked her bluntly why she needed them so much when he gave her everything she could possibly ever want. At that she had snorted, and taken great pains to explain to him that just because he failed to understand something didn’t make it any less valid of a feeling to someone else and then she’d deftly changed the subject, and he’d allowed the conversation to steer elsewhere.

And now, the first time she’d been anywhere but the inside of his house and strictly the garden for months, they were headed to spend time with his shit-head family. The irony was staggering when you considered it. He eased his beloved beemer onto the main road and pushed his foot down on the gas, weaving himself in and out of the light traffic obnoxiously fast. But he wasn’t known for his patience, he had somewhere to be and in his mind; the faster he got there the faster he could leave, keen to spend as little time with his family as possible. About halfway into the journey, Ransom felt that familiar cold feeling in his stomach as he pulled off the freeway and on to one of the smaller roads. He could drive this journey with his eyes closed but it was the first time he’d been back to the mansion since... well, since IT had all gone down. The more he thought about it, the more agitated he could feel himself getting, his hands gripping the steering wheel of the car with a force that made his knuckles white. He was jolted however, with the feeling of a hand on his arm and his head turned slightly to see Y/N looking at him. She didn’t say anything, and no sooner had he registered her touch she moved her hand dropping it back into her lap, eyes focussed downwards as his turned back to the road. He swallowed, that familiar and uncomfortable feeling of remorse once more washing over him. Despite everything he had done to her, she was still voluntarily lending him comfort. 

Ten minutes later, he swung up the tree-lined driveway, his heart pounding in his chest. His jaw set hard as the mansion came into view, and low and behold his mother, standing on the front steps, a cigarette between her fingers as she exasperatedly texted on her phone. A meek voice came from the seat beside him, "its going to be okay." But he couldn't decipher if she were talking to him or herself. He cut the engine, his hands still on the wheel as he sighed and hung his head, before he turned to her. “I don’t need to warn you about trying anything do I?” He asked, ignoring her effort to placate him. "No," she replied quietly. “Good.” He reached out and gently gripped her chin between his thumb and finger, pressing as soft kiss to her lips, the action as much for him as it was for the benefit of his mother who was watching the pair of them. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”  He gracefully unfolded himself from the driver’s side, shutting the door behind him and strode to the front of his car, waiting for Y/N to catch up. Her face was set, an expression he’d seen countless times before when she’d been fearful and acting under duress. He watched as she took a deep breath and drew back her shoulders whilst he reached for her hand. Obediently, she took it and together they strode towards the large wooden door, his mother watching them as they approached "You're late," Linda scoffed.

He paid her no mind and pulled Y/N along his side. “I’m sure Nanna won’t mind too much, you know, on account of her being dead.” He retorted sardonically.

You stood by his side, your eyes watching Linda and she turned her attention to you, her eyes narrowing a little, a strange expression on her features, almost as if she was sussing you out. But, as her eyes flicked to your injured cheek before they darted to Ransom who still had a possessive grip around your hand you realised with horror it wasn’t you she was suspicious of. It was the bruise on your face, more so how it had gotten there.

You cleared your throat. “Funny thing,” you gestured to it and her eyes snapped to yours, “too much Scotch and I tripped. Face first into the corner of my vanity."

Okay, so it wasn’t a complete lie…but you still felt sick to your stomach at how quickly you’d jumped to his defence.

“Sure.” Linda arched an eyebrow.

“What exactly are you getting at, Mother?” Ransom looked at her, his jaw set and Linda rolled her eyes, taking a drag of her cigarette.

“Nothing really, I just find it extremely odd that you get an interview with this girl to clear your name and she ends up in your bed, only after she’s done a complete hatchet job on all of us first.” She dropped her cigarette end to the floor before she looked at him shrewdly.

“For which she published an apology.” Ransom’s voice was flat and carried an undertone of annoyance to which Linda paid no attention.

“Because you’re really the type to forgive and forget so easily.” She scoffed as Ransom gave a dramatic sigh as his mother continued, her head now turning to you. “You know, I could hardly believe it when Blanc told us you were with him, and then I saw you with my own eyes and now here you are again…“

“What do you mean, when Blanc told you?” Ransom frowned as his hand contracted almost painfully around yours, a warning no doubt to remain silent. His mother had hit the nail on the head, proving that she knew her son a lot better than you, and no doubt he, had bothered to give her credit for.

“Her disappearance was all over the news, more so because they’d linked it to that god-awful cretin of an actor, Lucas Lee.” She turned back to look at him. “But, no sooner had they done that he was cleared thanks to a cast-iron alibi and low and behold, a few weeks later Blanc turns up.” Linda raised her brows, her gaze fixed on Ransom. “I told him where to find you-“

“Gee, thanks.” Ransom drawled and she glared at him, before he rolled his eyes and gestured with his hand for her to continue.

“And obviously he did as he came back a day or so later, saying that to his surprise you-“ her eyes flicked to yours then and you swallowed “-were seemingly there, of your own accord.”

“I erm,” you fumbled on your words and felt Ransom let go of your hand, his palm warm as it now rested between your shoulder blades. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for another lie, one that this time you’d spun before and you shrugged, licking your lips. “I'll tell you the same thing I told him. I came to realize that despite my scathing feature, Ransom intrigued me. I wanted to get to know him more. One thing led to another and I figured if we kept our relationship quiet for a while, I'd save myself the spit on my face from my family and people like you.”

“People like me?” Linda arched a brow, her lips quirking up at one side. “

“I didn’t mean…” You shook your head, quickly taking a deep breath. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“A tad, but I’ve had worse.” Linda’s eyes twinkled with something that looked like amusement as she reached into her pocket for her packet of cigarettes. “But, what I don’t understand is, why let your family believe you were missing, dead even?”

“I, well, I was under a lot of pressure at work, and everything just got too much and needed to escape, from everything. Ransom told me to stay with him for a while to get some head space and I didn’t mean to cause anyone any hurt or upset and-“

You stopped dead as you felt Ransom curl his hand round the back of your neck, giving a squeeze in warning. You were rambling.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Sweetheart,” his voice was softly spoken as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “it’s none of her business.”

Linda looked at you for a moment, before she turned to her son and shrugged, popping another cigarette into her mouth. “I’ve long since given up trying to understand anything you did.”

“Well, like the judge said,” Ransom moved, his hand now on the base of your spine as he turned and guided you to the large door of the house, “not of sound mind.”

In the spacious drawing room, the rest of the family was gathered around. There were no others at the wake, Wanetta having outlived everyone she knew.  You knew Ransom would offer no introductions, but that wasn’t an issue, you knew everyone anyway from your extensive research into this fucked up family. The fire burned in the background, and Ransom’s father, Richard, lounged in an arm-chair, a young woman who you presumed to be the au-pair Ransom talked about with disdain, perched on his lap. Walt was perched in another arm-chair, his wife Donna stood behind him, clutching a half drunk glass of wine, their son Jacob absent from the room. Marta and Meg were perched on the couch with Joni flitting about, a crunch from a carrot stick heard from across the room. You walked in and immediately felt the daggers in your skin as all eyes turned towards you. The knives were out and you swallowed, adjusting your sleeve, feeling Ransom's presence behind you.

“Here…” you felt Ransom’s hands gently pulling on the shoulders of your coat and he slipped it from your body, gently pressing another kiss to your cheek. You turned to look at him, offering him a small smile before he moved to hang the coat up on the stand at the far side of the room.

“Y/N, right?” Marta was the first one to speak as she stood up, and you nodded, not bothering to ask how she knew your name. It was a given she’d have read the article, and it was also a given thanks to the conversation moment’s ago with Linda, that the rest of the family had also been briefed on the fact you were ‘with’ Ransom. What clearly hadn’t’ been anticipated from the not-so-covert surprised glances that were being shared, was that he would have brought you today. “Can I get you a drink?” She continued and you smiled.

“Please, erm, a wine would be great.”

“Red or white?”

“She prefers white.” Ransom spoke and Marta’s eyes darted to his. You instantly felt his entire body language stiffen and you turned to him, the distaste evident on his face, his entire aura radiating utter disdain and bitterness.

Marta simply took a deep breath, her expression flat, but her eyes fierce as they remained in a silent stand-off.

“Can’t she speak for herself?” Meg scoffed and Ransom pulled his eyes away from Marta, turning his glare to his cousin.

“Is explaining what a lady prefers to drink considered sexist as well now or…”

“He’s right,” You jumped in quickly, smiling at Marta. “White is great, thanks.”

Marta nodded.

“Hugh?” She looked at Ransom and you blinked at the use of that name and then realised, of course, she’d once upon a time been the help. That said, you knew she was saying it simply because she wanted to, not that her status required it and there was an amused look on Ransom’s face as he turned to her.

“Beer.”

You rolled your eyes to yourself at his lack of manners, but from the expression on Marta’s face she’d been expecting it, and to be honest, you weren’t sure why you hadn’t been. Her lips curled into a sarcastic grin as she turned and headed out.

“You should try it, Donna. It’s got camomile and lavender in. I swear by it.” Your ears then picking up on a conversation between Walt, Donna and Joni and you turned your head towards them, Ransom’s arm curled round your waist, hand resting heavy on your hip. Joni bit down on the carrot stick she was holding with a flourish of her hands. “It’s my favourite thing FLAM have done.”

"You know, I'm surprised you didn't go under given you're no longer receiving Dad's money.” Walt interjected and Joni rolled her eyes.

“Shows how much attention you pay, Walt. When I released that new line of bath-bombs and candles, sales, like literally, went through the roof.”

“Bath-bombs?” Walt frowned.

“Yeah, they’re like little cakes if you will of dried soap and fragranced that you drop into a-“

“I know what they are.” Walt rolled his eyes as Marta appeared, handing you your drink which you took with a thanks. “I was commenting on the fact you said you’d launched a new line.”

“Oh, yeah.” Joni munched her carrot stick some more. “I got the idea from Gwyneth Paltrow when she released that candle scented like her vagina.” At that you choked on your drink and hastily avoided looking at anyone in the room as various groans and loud protests from the males hit your ears.

At that point Linda walked back into the room and sat down in a chair not far from where you were sat and she smoothed down her trousers before she peered up at Ransom.

“How’s the book coming along?” She asked, peering from over the top of her wine glass as she sipped from it.

“Fine.” Ransoms shrugged. “Few little blocks here and there but I’ll work through them. Granddad always told me sometimes it pays to take a step back and pause, ideas often come when you’re not expecting them.”

Linda smiled, and you were pleased to see that, for once, it appeared genuine, as if she was actually looking at her son with something more than ambivalence. And then, the moment was ruined as Meg burst out laughing.

“You’re writing a book? What’s it called? ‘Ransom’s Guide To Being An Asshole’?” She snorted and Ransom took a deep breath.

“Eat shit.”

“Original.” Meg replied drily rolling her eyes, “you know, I'm jealous of all the people that haven't met you.” She stated as her eyes turned to you. “Seriously, what the fuck do you see in him? Why on earth anyone would ever want to be in the same room with him, let alone share his bed is completely beyond me.”

“Tell me, Meg, when was the last time you got laid?” Ransom turned to her, a smirk on his face. “And your dildo doesn’t count.” “Fuck you, you fucking prick.” Meg seethed before she turned to look at you, her face angry. “You know, it must be serious if he’s bringing you here; he normally just keeps his fuck buddies on speed dial.”

“And throws the money on the mattress.” Walt mumbled.

At that, Ransom tensed and he turned his face towards his Uncle, his nostrils flaring. But before he had time to answer back, Richard let out a derisive snort and Ransom instead turned his head to his father.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Ransom shot back, “Tell me, how much do you pay the barely legal whore sat on your lap?” 

“You little shit.” Richard spat as the poor woman in question shifted uncomfortably, her mouth falling open as the insult Ransom had shot at her registered.

You stood stock still, a warm and uncomfortable feeling washing over you as the family continued to bicker. You could feel a headache coming; this was becoming too much for you to cope with. 

“Oh for God’s sake.” Linda groaned, almost lazily from her spot on the chair. “Is it too much to ask that one of our family deaths goes by without starting another feud?”

"Oh that's rich, coming from you!” Richard, turned to her. Linda met her ex-husband’s glare with a completely blank expression on her face, before she scoffed.

“Why are you wearing those ridiculous glasses?” She demanded, referring to the spectacles that adorned Richard’s face, the style being something you would attribute to Harry Potter.

“So I can see.”

“You never needed glasses in the entire thirty-four years we were married.” She scoffed.

“I did.” Richard shrugged, a snarky grin curling at one side of his mouth and you instantly recognised that expression as being one Ransom sported a lot. “Just preferred it when I couldn’t see your face.”

Linda’s mouth dropped open and you felt yourself bristle as you took a breath.

“Are you actually gonna let your dad say that to your mom?” You glanced up at Ransom. His head turned slowly towards you and the expression of anger on his face at being called out made your blood run cold. You recoiled a little and your eyes immediately darted to the floor.

“Sorry.” You whispered.

"This is fun," Jacob snickered as he, from out of nowhere, waltzed into the room and took a seat in the corner of the bay window, never once looking up from his phone. “Ransom once more manages to spark an argument.��

“Y/N meet Jacob, the poster child for the pro-choice movement.” Ransom gestured to the teenager in front of you who merely rolled his eyes as both Walt and Donna began to yell and hurl insults back at Ransom.

“Says the guy whose birth certificate is an apology letter from the condom factory.” The teen mumbled back.

“Ooh, good one, which one of your alt-right, KKK loving buddies did you learn that from?” Ransom quipped, and in a quick change of decorum, the room erupted with slander and jabs being shouted and tossed about, most of the commotion being pointed at Ransom.

It was a cacophony of noise and sound, which infiltrated your head, making your brain buzz and crackle like the wick of a dynamite stick and it was too much. After months of quiet with no one to listen or talk to bar Ransom, it was overwhelming and you felt sick.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need some air.” You mumbled, seizing the chance, as he was distracted.

You made your way into the hallway where you stood, your back leaning against the dark wooden panelling, taking huge gasps of air. Your chest hurt, your head was spinning and your legs burned but those deep breaths didn’t help. Your hand slapped against your chest, hoping to ebb the sting. Soon, lightheaded, and with a slight spin to the space around you, you felt a cool hand on your shoulder through your blouse. Your head turned and you saw a sweet pair of eyes looking at you with worry.

“Let’s get you some real air, come on,” it was Marta, coming to your aide.

She took you outside, to a covered patio, with wicker furniture and heating lamps. The rush of cold air hit your flushed skin and a different sting erupted through your lungs as the bite of winter’s breath filled you.

“Here.” The young woman handed you a tartan blanket, which you took with a grateful look, still not quite able to form any words. She helped you sit down on one of the chairs and made sure the blanket was snug around your shoulders as she took a seat opposite you.

“They’re a little overwhelming, but you get used to it,” she rubbed a small hand up and down your back.

You just looked at her, your eyes watering as you came down from your panic. You had no desire to get used to it, to any of it, but as per anything in this fucked up situation, you were no doubt going to have to, like it or not. 

The breaths you took became longer, deeper, the peak of panic now steadying out leaving you feeling shaky and exposed.

“I’m sorry, that was…”

“You don’t have to apologise. With what’s happening inside, this is normal.” Marta softly smiled with a chuckle. “I’d be worried if they weren’t screaming at each other.”

“Can I ask you something?” You looked at her, speaking softly.

“Of course.” She replied, just as hushed.

“Why did you do it? Have everyone over? You don’t owe them anything.”

The former nurse rubbed her palms on her pants, “well, it’s what Wanetta wanted. She sorta came with the house and it was her last wish, for the family to come together. I think she thought after everything that happened something might have changed?” Marta shook her head at the audacity of the sound of it. “She didn’t say much more, but Allan had given me her will and that’s all it read. Things would remain the same but she wanted them here after she was cremated, for a final goodbye.”

“I admire her optimism.” You stated flatly and Marta laughed before she gave a heavy sigh, a sad smile on her face.

“Well, she loved them, not that any of them cared, not in years. The only one I ever noticed take mind of her out of want and not duty was Ransom.” She kept her eyes on yours as she spoke, genuine care coming from the sound of her. “But that was before…when he…with Harlan.”

You glanced away, not totally surprised but still a little shocked so to speak that someone else had noticed there was a little shred of humanity buried underneath all his asshole bravado. You leaned forward on your thighs, elbows resting there as your hands wrung together, a nervous habit you’d recently developed.

“Can I ask YOU something?” Marta wondered. You nodded, your stomach knotting, hoping I wasn’t what you suddenly thought it could be. “You’ve spent time with Ransom. I read your article and your apology. Do you believe all of this? The not of sound mind?” Her eyes were sorrowful but held a glare of contempt at the circumstance.

“Uh…” you started but the opening of the patio door caught both of your attentions and the man in question stepped outside, your coat in his hands.

“I was worried,” he stated, opening your coat for you as you automatically stood to receive the gesture. You had no doubt his worry was genuine, but whether it was for you or what you may or may not have revealed was another question.

“I needed some air,” you admitted, “Marta came to my rescue.”

“One man alone can be pretty dumb sometimes, but for real bona fide stupidity there ain't nothing can beat teamwork.” Ransom quipped in reference to the chaos of the family being together, chaos he narcissistically enjoyed partaking in.

You looked up at those daring blue eyes, “Mark Twain.”

He quirked a brow in agreement before his eyes flicked to Marta and then back to you. “Was I interrupting something, Sweetheart?”

There it was, that warning tone in his voice. You were on thin ice. You stuffed your hands into your peacoat pocket and shook your head.

“No.” You cleared your throat as you held his gaze. “Like I said, I just needed some air.”

As he stood there, his eyes searching hers he took a deep breath as she gazed back up at him, fear simmering within those deep globes. Ransom reached out, pulling her to him, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “As long as that’s all it was.”

Recognising his comment for what it was, half concern and half warning, she nodded against his chest. Without so much as another glance at Marta, he turned, his arm looped possessively over her shoulders as he led her back inside. He walked slowly down the hallway, stooping slightly to speak into her ear. “From now on, you don’t leave my sight, you got that?”

“Yeah, okay.” She whispered and nodded.

“Good girl,” he smiled, tipping her face up with on finger under her chin, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

*****

The next hour or so passed reasonably uneventfully. Ransom was careful to keep as much distance between him, Y/N and the rest of the assholes in the room as possible. When the buffet was served, he watched as she picked at the plate of food she had selected, not eating a terrible amount. She’d gone in on herself again, and he found himself a little disappointed if truth be told.

“We’ll leave soon.” He turned to her and she looked at him, “you’ve behaved today, I’m impressed.”

At that she rolled her eyes. “Is going back to that fucking house supposed to be a reward or something?”

At that Ransom felt a surge of anger and he glared at her, the nerve in his jaw twitching. “Don’t push me, sweetheart.” His voice was low, and a growl but to his surprise, instead of recoiling at his outward hostility and warning she simply sat up straight, her shoulders squaring and met him with a filthy look of her own.

“Fuck you.” She spat.

“Oh we already played that game.” His lip curled back in a snarl. “Several times.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Walt leaned forward a little to pick up something off one of the plates on the table by Ransom and he took a breath, his eyes still trained on Y/N before he turned to his uncle.

“Are you not dead yet?”

“Do you have to talk to everyone like that?” Joni sighed. “God, Ransom.”

“Well I thought the guys who bust his leg might have caught up with him by now, no such luck.” Ransom shrugged.

“Listen here you little shit,” Walt leaned over the table, but no sooner had he done that he suddenly began coughing on whatever food he had in his mouth.

“I’m listening.” Ransom quipped as Walt continued to splutter, Donna hastily hitting him on the back.

Jacob, who wasn’t even looking at the table, too engrossed in his phone, then spoke. “What did you eat, Dad? Wasn’t anything he gave you was it? I mean he did kill Grandpa so I wouldn’t put it past him to poison you either.”

A deadly silence spread across the room as Ransom took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on his cousin, his hand clenching into fists. Besides him, Y/N let out a shaky breath and her head turned to look at him but he didn’t meet her eyes. Instead he leaned back in his chair and when he spoke next, his voice was icy.

“Not of sound mind.”

“Yeah, we heard. Loaf of bullshit if you ask me, but then again an expensive lawyer can get you off most things these days.” Walt snarled.

“Enough!” Linda yelled, her hand smacking on the table. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Besides him, Y/N had begun to tremble, and Ransom glanced at her to see she was taking deep breaths, her chest heaving, face stony as she stared at the wall opposite, where a picture of his Nanna Wanetta was hung.

“Oh shut up Linda!” Walt turned to her. “Everyone here knows he’s guilty as sin, even you! Why the fuck he’s even here is beyond me. And as for you...” He turned to Y/N and she gave a start, her eyes flicking to him. “You might as well quit while you’re ahead as there ain’t no gold to be digging for. She got it all.” He pointed his fork at Marta and then that was it. Y/N let out a hell of frustration, standing up that quickly her chair tumbled to the ground behind her, the plate clattering to the floor by her feet.

“You think I’m with him for his money?” He glared at Walt, the entire room silent as all eyes focussed on her. “Jesus Christ, you have no idea. I’m with him because I have-“

At that Ransom’s hand shot out and curled round her wrist, his grip tight in warning and she jerked away from him, glaring down at him with a fire in her eyes he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“The whole lot of you are fucked in the head.” She tapped her temple with her forefinger. “I’ve never seen anything like this in my entire life. You’re nothing but a bunch of self-entitled, narcissistic assholes. After everything you've been through, you can’t even find it in your cold dead hearts to come together honour a member of your family that died without reducing the entire event to some kind of sick, twisted game of one-upmanship. Each and every one of you are all about yourselves, and what you can do to out accomplish the other. As far as I’m concerned each one of you can fuck off and die. You disgust me." 

She took a deep breath, running her hands over her face before she turned on her heel and stormed from the room.

Ransom blinked, watched her leave, a slam of the door behind her. He stood there for a brief moment, processing what had just happened. He looked back to his family with a smug shrug and at that he headed quickly after Y/N, his mother's obnoxious and loudly over dramatic gasp bouncing off his back as he too slammed the front door.

****

It was your turn to stand there and act like a petulant child as you leaned against the hood of the Beemer, cares and all fucks be damned. You were tired, you were angry and God damn down right fed up with this entire family and their bullshit. You didn't even make eye contact with him as Ransom as he approached the car. You simply moved to your door, slipped in as he did and waited for him to start the car. You felt his eyes in him, heard him open his mouth to say something but rather he just took in a breath and started the engine. You sat there, your arms crossed over your chest, knees at an angle, pointed towards your door, away from him.

A rumble of a chuckle escaped his chest, "Oh Sweetheart, that was really something."

"Just drive," you spat out, turning your head to him in annoyance. Now he didn't find you amusing, this new air of confidence about you. He cleared his throat and looked at you with a stern gaze.

"Careful, Y/N," he warned, pulling around the drive to the long road before the main. You didn't care. You raised your brows as if you were silently emphasizing your demand, it was not a request, even in the slightest.

The bare trees and snow covered ground began flying by your window, clearly Ransom laying the pedal to the floor as you shook your head.

"What the hell was even the point of going today? It was blatantly obvious that they didn’t want you there, and you didn’t want to be there. If you wanted to mourn Wanetta, we could have done it from the confines of the prison you like to keep me in. Or was this just another shitty way for you to torture me? Huh? Was that amusing to you, Hugh, making me spend an afternoon with your fucked up family, whom you hate, when you’re keeping me from mine? God, you really are a twisted son of a bitch.”

Your tirade set his skin on fire, you could see the tinge of red flushing his skin as he white knuckled the wheel, his hand on the gear shift squeezing the hell out of it as you spoke. Then very quickly you felt your body lurch forward as he slammed on the breaks. "What the fuck did you just say?"

“What, are you deaf?” You blazed. “I asked why we were there? I mean I thought we were going to pay respects to your Great-Nanna, because stupid me actually believed that you felt something, you know, some kind of sorrow that she was gone, and I actually felt sorry for you at first when we got in there, and they were unloading all their vile little opinions and digging in at you and-“

"Now you listen to me you little bitch," he spat, cutting you off. "I didn’t ask for, nor do I need your pity. I don’t care what my family say to me, or think about me. And I certainly don’t care what they think or say about you”

“Oh my god, you are…” You shook your head, looking out of the window, taking a deep breath. “This isn’t pity, Ransom.”

“No, because that’s what it sounds like.” He seethed, his hands curling round the steering wheel.

“Of course it does.” You scoffed. “Because that’s probably all you’ve ever felt towards anyone else isn’t it? Pity, because they’re never going to be as good as you, or have the things you have. Well you might be rich in money terms but fuck, in everything else you’re a pauper. Have you ever truly empathised with someone? Like have even once fully understood what someone else feels? Their sorrow, their happiness, their joy?”

“What the fuck are you getting at?”

You sighed, considering your options. You knew what you wanted to tell him-that the fact he wasn’t loved as a child left him incapable of the simple emotions normal people met, but he was calling you out. And now, it was play it soft or rip it off like a band-aid…

And despite the feeling of foreboding washing over you, you chose the latter. You were tired of playing his mind games, tired of this whole situation. And whatever fucked up punishment he was going to inflict on you, well, it couldn’t be worse than anything he’d already done, you’d take it.

“You don't know how to be happy, or how to love Ransom, because you've never seen it. You've never experienced it. You just breeze through life thinking you can take what you want when you want, and it doesn't work like that.”

 “You’re starting to really piss me off. If I wanted a therapy session, I’d pay for one.” He snarled, “Shut the fuck up.”

“See, this is what I mean!” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You just asked me to elaborate, so I did, and know because I’m saying something that you don’t like or don’t wanna hear, you’re resorting to being an asshole.  Every time I think I’m getting through to you, I…” You fell silent, swallowing as he glared at you, nostrils flaring and you took a deep sigh, knowing that this was pointless. “You know what, forget it. I shouldn’t-“

“No, you clearly got something to say, so go on. Say it.”

“What, so you can punish me when we get back for pissing you off some more?”

At that his face faltered and he took a deep breath, hanging his head. When he raised it again to look at you, his face was softer and he looked out of the windscreen, licking his lips. “I’m not…gonna punish you, okay.”

“How do I know?” You whispered, shaking your head. “How can I trust that you’re not just gonna lock me back in that damned basement and come down when you want to fuck me and-“ “Because I’m not!” His voice rose. “I don’t want you down there anymore. So I’ll ask again, you think you know so much about how to love,” he framed the word with his fingers, "then tell me what you think it means.”

“Fine, you wanna know…I’ll tell you. It's going on dates, it’s fun, its surprising, it’s feeling like you can’t breathe if the person you are in love with leaves you. It’s not about owning them or breaking them or how much you buy a person or throwing money at them, it’s showing them you know how they are, that you understand what they appreciate and what they need and what they want, a lot of times without being told.” You took a deep breath, watching his face, his expression never faltering. “Love is something that can't always be explained. It's that feeling of family, of having your person. Someone your heart and soul changes for, grows with. Love is a mother's hug or kiss goodnight, a father's ball landing in your mitt with a joyful laugh and smile. Love isn't forced or taken. It's given and received. It's...."

"Fresh hot cocoa on a rainy day when you have nothing left in a world that hates you,” he spoke softly, and when you realized what he'd said it stopped your thoughts cold. Did that mean what you thought it meant? That he loved you?

You were lost for words, but before you could protest and tell him he was wrong, he sighed and looked at you.

“You asked me before why I brought you today. That’s why. Because they hate me. And you make me feel fucking safe around those pieces of shit.” Your breath caught in your throat whilst your mind raced for how to respond. The tension and suspense filled the air about the two of you. You stared at him, his eyes soft, expectant, darting over your features with a bouncing worry. The reaction time between his words and your next move was merely a minute but you had quickly found a way to capitalize on this moment. You threw your belt off and kicked your heels off in the process, moving over the gear shift and the centre console into his lap, the center seam of your skirt tearing as you straddled him. "Wha...." his words were cut off by your lips on his, your palms over his softly shaven face, fingertips sliding into the hair behind his ears. Immediately, your tongue slipped deep inside his mouth, lolling around with his. His hands found your waist and gave you a squeeze. You came to your knees as best you could in the small space and continued to kiss him while trying to inch your skirt higher. He'd guessed what you were trying to do and you felt his hands move from your waist to the tops of your thighs, fingers trailing down quickly to the hem of your skirt, lifting it to above the curve of your ass where it bunched. He didn’t ask or question your sudden burst of confidence or seeming desire, just as you’d banked on, instead he was quite happy to go with it, as usual always ready to fuck you any which way he could. Your hands trailed over the soft material of his sweater and down to the end of it, where it met the top of his slacks. You lifted the clothing slightly to ghost over his skin causing him to flinch before your finger tips found the button and zip of his flies. That maddeningly smug smirk spread across his face and your lips crashed back to his, a furious clash of teeth and tongue, your hands still fumbling with his pants. He was half hard before you even got him free, no doubt from the heated exchange the two of you had to get to here. As you palmed his girth in your hand, your brain switched from playing him to wanton need, a basic primal instinct of desperation to release the toxic stress your body held. His big hand and thick fingers trailed over your hip, your ass, down your thigh and finally cupped your heat and a deep ferrral growl emitted from his chest as he'd realized you'd worn nothing under that skirt. He dipped two fingers inside you straight away and you cried out, "fuck" as your body bent back away from him, keening at the feeling. “Fuck, baby, you’ve had nothing on under here all day?” His fingers curled inside of you and you groaned, your head rolling back as your hips pushed forward, thrusting against his hand. You couldn't use your words, you looked down at him with your pupils blown and your bottom lip between your teeth. You gave him a squeeze instead and he quickly lurched you into the steering wheel with his chest, his fingers falling away and both hands tearing your blouse open, buttons flying that will never be found. His nose tucked between the valley of your breasts and he inhaled between your fleshy mounds, his tongue dipping against the underside of your thin bra. His hands each palming an ass cheek and squeezing so hard, it delightfully stung. With what little space the two of you had to move, Ransom pulled you down into his lap, the need to feel you wrapped around him dangerously feral. It took no time for that single motion to get his head then every inch of his shaft deep inside you. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good," he ground out. He didn't care the mess she would make or the way he'd cum so hard he'd leak out of her, no, he wanted to fuck her senseless and that's exactly what he'd do. His heels cemented themselves into the footwell of the car as his hips jutted upward, her body curling in on him. “Harder, please Ransom.” Her voice croaked as she begged him and with a growl that was animalistic his hips picked up their pace as he rutted up into her quickly and harshly.  His mouth devoured the tops of her breasts, nipping at her nipples through the material of the lace that covered them while her fingers scratched at the back of his neck, tugging at his hair. In contrast to the cold winter conditions outside, the air inside his beloved car was now hot, fast steaming up the windows, drops of condensation trickling down towards the door sill a perfect mirror image of the sweat that was now sliding down the hollow of her throat and beading on his brow. He could feel her walls begin to squeeze him tighter and tighter with each thrust. His hands curled round her hips, pulling her down onto him as he leaned back, raising his ass off the seat slightly, spearing up into her as deep as he could. "Ransom," you started to shake senselessly, you were crashing fast and hard and there was no slowing down. "Fuck, baby, just like that," you'd heard him say over the blood that rushed to your ears, deafening you, as you came, gripping him like a vice. Your body gave way as your hands sought purchase to ground yourself from entirely collapsing, finding the lapel of his camel coat, white knuckling it with one hand while the other slapped against the damp window which felt like melting ice against your heated palm. A noise burst from your mouth, a half scream, half choked wail, a sound you weren’t sure you’d ever made before and you opened your eyes to see Ransom’s icy blue’s locked onto yours, his bottom lip clamped between his teeth. His voracious pace continued until the end when he came with a primal growl,  his hips raising off the seat far enough to jolt your head against the roof of the car. You felt him fill you, the warmth of his seed settling deep inside, and then some. The air was heavy with the sound of panting as the pair of you came down from the intensity of the moment, The both of you desperately trying to breathe despite the humidity. Your hands curled over Ransom's shoulders as he sagged back in the seat, his hands smoothing up the outside of your thighs. You swallowed hard as his eyes focused on yours. You leaned forward and kissed him slowly, softly, his mouth and body languidly responding. Pulling back slightly, you kept your forehead pressed to his, and took a deep breath before you went straight in for the kill, the reason you’d instigated this entire fuck, to capitalise once more on a seeming chink in his armour. "You said you feel safe with me." He stilled underneath you, his hands gentle as they now rest on your hips and his eyes locked onto yours, widening as he realised his admission. "Do you want me to feel safe with you? To trust you?" You continued, not giving him a moment to deny it. He nodded slowly in reply. "Prove it," you stated. "How?" His voice was croaky as he cleared his throat, a slight frown furrowed his brow. "I want to see my family again." He looked at you, and you kept your eyes locked on his, a challenge to him to make good on his word, gambling on him actually wanting you to trust him as he had taken great pains to demonstrate through various means over the past few weeks. This was it, the moment where you would find out exactly what he truly wanted- someone to love and trust him, or someone to fear and obey him. He let out a slow breath through his nose and his eyes flicked over your shoulder before they returned to yours and he gave you an almost imperceptible nod.  But a nod nonetheless. “Okay.”

**** Part 7

[clare-with-no-i]

director’s cut for color theory? :0

oooh yes absolutely!

so, the first line of this was originally:

When Lily's first boyfriend said "I love you," it felt like an accusation instead of When Lily's first boyfriend said "I love you," it felt like a request, but I felt like the first option was a bit aggressive for the tone of the piece, and I ended up liking request better because it felt more true to the actual "I love you" scene with Elliot later on, where it feels like he's leveraging the I love you as a means of keeping them together.

but! the line "when Lily's first boyfriend said "I love you," it felt like an accusation" is actually what I based the whole piece around, because it popped into my head one night as I was trying to go to sleep.

more clarewithnoi fic dissection under the cut lol!

the other main 'behind the scenes' material for color theory is that I was very intentional with the juxtaposition of imagery between Elliot and James: everything with E happens in the evening or at night - here's an excerpt from the I love you scene with E:

“I love you, too,” Lily heard herself saying, because he was older, and more experienced, and maybe she just didn’t know what love felt like yet. Maybe it was this stuttered feeling in her throat. Maybe it was the yellow haze of the August sun setting around them, the tilting of the earth from day to night, the way Elliot’s blond hair turned orange as the last bits of maroon light dipped below the trees. Maybe I love you felt just a little bit like goodbye.

That night, she let him keep her out past curfew and put his hand up her shirt. Her mother used to say that love needed compromise. It felt hard to see what Lily wasn’t giving up.

his motif is the sunset, whereas everything with J contains references to the morning or the sunrise:

1. they see each other the first time in the morning on the Hogwarts Express

2. even when they have a scene in the nighttime, this happens:

“Fuck that.” The vehemence in James’s tone made her turn her gaze to his face. He was staring at the floor, eyebrows drawn together. The torchlight hit his face and swathed it in gold, and she thought suddenly of the sunrise. “Fuck that. He didn’t know shit, Evans.”

3. they get ice cream during the day, which I wanted to directly contrast the dinner date with E because, even though they both offer to pay for Lily's food, J has actual reasons for it that don't center some sort of outdated chivalry, whereas E is just focused on presenting himself as The Boyfriend

4. For James’s part, it was obvious. Love shaded his every action, every word. It was seats pulled out for her and picnics set up when the sun peeked out from the clouds. It was a helping hand in the Heads Office and a wink from his broom to the Gryffindor stands. It was a kiss in the soft sunlight of an autumn morning.

I wanted James's part to feel like the dawning of a new day for Lily, whereas Elliot was sort of a metaphor for the sun setting on her childhood innocence - she doesn't really feel love, but she feels something, and she doesn't know better than to just settle for what Elliot provides.

this got really long but it was so fun!!! I love love love dissecting my fics, wow. thank you for asking!! xx

[simp4ace]

aa you're so sweettt

it was a retake exam for the one we took last week and I did worse 💀 oh well, definitely going to have to try for finals week cus ugh

aaanddd thanks for reading my request definitely take your time on it!! owo your works are worth the wait babe, I've read the other ones you published and they definitely made me smile big!!

btw, do you read/watch anything other than one piece?? -🧪

jfvhfjbfjbjdbdkbkfdb omgggg noo you're sweeter😭😭😭 thank you though🥺🥺❤❤ I just started writing this October and my works are still all over the place fnjkbds😩 I'll try my best to improve more knowing that there is still people enjoy my stuff like you, it means a lot to me tbh. Give me the courage to share my work more regularly😍 Love youuuu <333 (btw did you mean the new hc with insecure s/o?XD or the cockroach one? or the taking care? I kinda don't remember my stuff very well and I always forget to update my masterlist😭)

And YESSS I READ A LOT OF MANGAS OTHER THAN ONE PIECE 🥰🥰🥰 you can tell that I'm a big weeb hehehehe XD I read various genres, I'm gonna put my list under the cut if you're interested in <3 It's too long tbh

Normally, I prefer reading manga to watching anime, but I still have my fav anime yes❤ I love Studio Ghibli<3 Watch all their movies🥺🥺🥺

And Cowboy Bebop!!!

Also Perfect Blue<3

And Akira

About manga...

I like reading shounen the most❤ Here are my GOAT:

Kimetsu no Yaiba (such an emotional rollercoaster, so so so in LOVE😻)

The Promised Neverland

Horimiya (honestly don't understand why people put this in the shounen tag😂 BUT true masterpieceeee😩😩😩❤❤❤ if you watch the anime the art is even more awesome<3)

Chainsaw Man (MY EDGY SIDE LOVE THIS!!!! dark and lots of blood, aw I live for the angst, yk👀)

Haikyuu

SPY X FAMILY (THEY ARE GOING TO HAVE AN ANIME ADAPTION NEXT YEAR PLEASE CHECK THEM OUT🤩🤩🤩🤩 truly, the most wholesome manga ever I treasure it!!!! Anya is so precious omg😭)

The Seven Deadly Sins

Bakuman (new motif, very inspiring, a darling to my list)

Hikaru no Go (I start to play go after this manga, it has had a strong effect on my life till this very day, also the art is everything)

DeathNote

Liar Game

Dragon Ball (sure, so classic, how can I not add it in?)

Great Teacher Onizuka (ahahahhaha 😂😂😂😂 TRULY MASTERPIECE HOWLING EVERY TIME HHHHHHH XDDDDDDD!!!! but if you don't feel comfortable you can skip this, it's quite...touchy. I know some certain people won't like its jokes)

Inuyasha (my first manga! the plot and the characters are all well-written! I LOVE Sesshoumaru omg)

Ranma 1/2 (same author with Inuyasha, gives good laugh and satisfactory fight scene❤)

Lum/ Urusei Yatsura (Lum is my favorite female lead 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️)

Assassination Classroom

Magi (why so underrated?????? The plot is genius, and the art is *chef kiss*🥺)

AOT

One-punch Man (just.the.art.is.worth.the.reading)

A Silent Voice (heart-touching, cry a lot, a must-read)

My Hero Academia *screaming Todoroki to the void*

Hunter x Hunter

Yotsuba&! (Cuttttteeeee, wholesome and so endearing🥺❤)

Gintama

Komi can't communicate (the bestest I'm telling you😔😔😔 too much fluff, too much love I'm jealous with them)

Beastars (unique, intelligent plot, loveable characters, amazing twist, you gotta try it out real fast omg🏃‍♀️💨)

Dr. Stone

Blue Flag (1000000000000/100 can't say no to this darling)

Angel Densetsu (wholesome❤ also so funny, and the art is ....erm haha you must try it out yourself then😂)

Yamada-kun and the Seven Witches (normally, harem is not my cup of tea, but this one is great! So worth it<3)

Yankee-kun to Megane-chan (howlinggggggg😭😭😭😂😂😂 so hilarious highly recommend)

Witch Hat Atelier (🤩💯❤One word: their art)

Silver Spoon (slice of life, good for the heart, also learn lots of new stuff you def never gonna use👁👁)

Yozakura Family

The Way of the Househusband (laughing a bit too hard dhdjdjdjjsjs😂😂😂)

Touch (a manga about baseball)

Cross Game

Also, if you ask me about something darker:

Kingdom (historical, battle, lots of fight and blood)

Berserk (classic)

The Climber

Innocent

20th Century Boys

The Flowers of Evils

Vagabond

Monster

Parasyte

Blank Canvas: My So-Called Artist Journey (not like really dark? Mature, I'd say)

And don't forget shoujo! my favorite mangas of this genre are:

Glass Mask (10000000/100, OMG IT'S SO INSPIRING SO CAPTIVATING I'M SO IN LOVE!!! highly recommend, the only flaw is that it is dropped😩)

Kaichou wa Maid-sama (hjghjvjvjrh A MUST READ!!!! omg blaming Usui Takumi for setting my standard too high😭)

Kimi ni Todoke

Nana (JDKVBHVBEVB OSAKI NANA IS MY QUEEN!!!! TRULY A MASTERPIECE ❤ but this one gonna hurt you as hell so uhmmm, still worth a try tho 😥 also they have an anime adaption, and I must say my style is mostly influenced by this manga/anime)

My Little Monster

Last Game (so FREAKING CUTE WHAT😭😭😭😭 their love is just so pure I'm crying, 10000/100)

Daytime Shooting Star ( my GOAT, the art and the plot and the characters are all well done! chef kiss)

Tsubaki-chou Lonely Planet (*rollingggggg cuz this manga it's sooooo freaking wholesome🥺😭❤* so loveable and make me have daddy issue *gasp*)

Oresama teacher (Laughing my ass out reading this hilarious manga😂😂😂 If you want a good laugh, an interesting female lead, and not too much loving theme Oresama teacher is a must-read)

Cat Street

Ore Monogatari (THE CUTEST! You are fed up with good-looking main chars and want something more close to reality? Try this one out and you'll not forget! Also, the art is chef kiss and I just want to say I love the male lead's best friend👉👈)

Kyou no Kira-kun

Beauty Pop (so underrated, why? It's very short but very awesome, make you want to devour it all at one go <3 a must try 💕 I have read this 5 times tbh)

Takane to Hana

Hana Yori Dango (A classic, truly, a classic. Just don't like the main chars too much now that I have grown up enough, but you can give it a try)

Strobe Edge (MAKE ME WANT TO GO BACK TO HIGHSCHOOL AND LOVE SOMEONE 😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺 I read it again and again and aww, just love)

Remei no Arcana (cry...just cry a little too much....though I'm in love🥺 I love the art and the plot sm please!!!)

Machida-kun no Sekai (THE MOST WHOLESOME<33333333 touch my heart and warm my soul every time I read it, Machida is so precious and need to be protected😭😭😭)

Hana to Akuma (adorable, demon x human, make you cry your eyes out but worth it!!!!)

Black Bird (s-sexy, so sexy and charming gosh! I love it)

Lovely Complex (just as the name, EXTREMELY LOVELY hahaha I love their dynamic <333)

Beast Master (a real short one, only 4 or 5 chapters so far but have my whole heart from the very start💘💘💘)

Love so Life (One word: ADORABLE! Too much fluff, too much cuteness, make my heart goes uwuuuuuuuu, a true masterpiece believe me🥺🥺🥺)

Gakuen Babysitters (let-let just lay me down and leave me drowning in the endless fluff forever...Truly, I have the biggest smile ever reading this manga, also makes me wonder why my brother can't be cute like this? why😭😭😭 ah, it's about family bond! So no love<3)

Kamisama Hajimemashita -

Hibi Chouchou (too much sweetness my teeth are going to hurt😩😩😩 AAA agaiiiinnnn, makes me wanna go back to high school and fall in love with someone🥺💕)

Taiyou no le (another wholesome manga about love and found family 😍😍😍 heart-touching and warming, so good for the heart<333 I recommend it)

Dengeki Daisy (The female lead is so loveable! I like the angst here, and the fluff! It has everything, can break your heart and heal you at the same time❤)

Ouran Koukou Host Club (so freakingggg funnyyy😂😂😂😂 omg love its comedy!!! pure gold! and the main chars are just too precious I can't🥺)

Red River (HOW CAN I FORGET THIS AND NOT PUT IT IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!!??? My childhood mangaaaa😩 I just love it with my whole heart, so so so perfect you have to try it out!!!!!)

From Far Away (AGAIN, HOW CAN I FORGET THIS ONE?! It is beautifully written, the art is so gorgeous, and the characters are extremely wholesome🥺❤ I love!)

Rere Hello (relationship goal? relationship goal! highly recommend, ngl😭😭😭😭)

Hotarubi no Mori e *cry*

Sacrificial Princess and the King of the Beast

Colette wa Shinu Koto ni Shita (as a mythology nerd, I A.M I.N L.O.V.E with this manga❤ the art is cute, and I fall in love with Hades why he's so handsome😭)

Our Precious Conversations (yes, just like the name, this manga is precious and need to be treasured more🥺)

Shinsuki Bitter Change (new motif, very interesting, great characters, and intelligent plot)

Kiss him, not me (also quite a new motif, funny and adorable, I'm strongly related to the female lead aha😆)

A Bride's Story (historical, the art is charming! Love all the detail❤)

Pochamani (I-I think the list is getting too long so I'm gonna end it with a fluff...)

that's all thank you for coming to my Ted talks!

[borderlandscast]

what happens when you let a bunch of vault hunters loose in digart (aka, virtual reality minecraft)

vox downloaded the game at the request of panda, who needed to prove to teep that the game has undergone massive updates and is now capable of supporting custom mods and excessive cheating.

within an hour, the two broke the server from spawning far too many bosses so that they could do a nonstop boss rush and update teep’s achievements.

vox rebooted the server and put a restriction on the amount of bosses that could be spawned in a single world and space.

this didn’t stop panda and teep from making pocket dimensions and fighting the bosses one by one, making the game lag horribly, and vox gave up on stopping them because they kept finding loopholes.

this leads into vox making their own avatar and joining the two on their never-ending quest to subjugate each world. if they can’t stop them, then join them.

panda and teep generally explore brand new worlds, and are usually the first to chart said worlds since they cheated in all their equipment and skills. vox shrugged and let it happen so they could explore with them faster. the two rock up into town to drop off maps, loot and materials before heading off again. they’re considered founding figures.

honeydew joins (from the grass room) to put down his roots, and begins a miniature spawn hub town. he names it ‘digfarts’ and it becomes a permanent fixture on the server. he’s the mayor thanks to self voting.

curious about why honeydew is spending so much time in the grass room instead of making them coffee, xephos logs in and begins a bee factory on the outskirts of digfarts. they accidentally breed a type of extreme killer bee which kills players and has to be confined in a massive sphere. otherwise, the bees produce honey, beeswax and other assorted products used in the market, magic or as trading.

players who break the rules are subjected to the ‘bee farts’ (xephos was against the naming but honeydew won by majority vote). the bees cause hallucinations, tingles and the heebee jeebies. remember that this is in vr. good, now wonder why nobody ever breaks the rules.

the bridge and frigate crews start a town market, and run their own supply chain and exploration crews. each of them have their own gangs, motifs and specialities. they’re all very into the game, and plan their shifts accordingly so they can log in.

daltos starts a cheese cult, ‘the cheesers’, monopolizing all production and selling of cheese. weirdly, he and his cult encourage the consumption of cheese. all registered, owned and named cows must pay a milk tax to the cult so that more cheese can be made. people who break this law have their whole house filled with cheese.

zylus and rythian become tower wizards. they look after the tainted zones and research magic; rythian eventually goes ‘insane’ and constantly needs guarding against the phantoms and weirdness that happens to him whenever he logs in. zylus can cast almost every single spell and is undefeated in pvp. his only weakness is ironically, cheese, thanks to shenanigans. touching cheese robs him of his powers. he has a deal with daltos so daltos doesn’t take advantage of this. in return, zylus has to buy weekly cheese from him or daltos will tell everyone and zylus has to reset to get a different weakness. and no, zylus hasn’t realised.

nanosounds and ravs become the ‘buff hooligans’ (a rejected nickname for the foursome ravs was previously involved in), and run around killing things for the wizards, people, and protect the wizards from themselves.

nilesy runs a cat museum. he collects anything cat related, and also cats. it took him two weeks to build the whole thing, and it’s always expanding. minecarts are needed to tour all fifteen sections. he also runs a fishing business.

hatfilms run an honest exploration and needs club (‘the thumb of truth’), and provide a lot of the fuel from oil, grease and energy deposits found all over the world. they have a contract with the cheesers, wizards, digfart’s mayor, etc. you name it, they’ll get it, for a price. the only thing they don’t traffic is bees. that’s...a sore topic for them. each of them specialise in certain areas, trott being the engineer, contractor and main cultist, alsmiffy in beasts, magic and tomfoolery and ross in materials and building. hollie is the ever patient receptionist of this venture.

will strife and parvis manufacture weapons, guns, somehow, and also, missile launchers. after accidentally nuking digfarts twice on two separate occasions, honeydew forces the two to put everything that could wipe the server into a secure and hidden vault. needless to say, strife installed an emergency backdoor, just in case the server ever needs to ensure a winning side. parvis is the key. he doesn’t know it.

zoeya and saberial logged in briefly to build an island as a monument to their eternal love. it has since become a protected zone for unicorns, neutral and friendly mobs. nobody is allowed to touch it or risk bee farts. the island is shaped like ravs the rooster. it’s also populated by special chickens. said chickens lay precious metals and materials. only a few parties have a permit gather the goods. there’s a real art to breeding the chickens; zoeya and saberial did not wisely pass this knowledge on to anyone. except for one person: arsenal.

chicken smuggling is a real crime in digfarts. the fine is a in-game week’s confinement in the bee fart sphere, plus a handwritten letter of apology to every single other player on the server for disappointing them and a pledge of loyalty to the poor chicken/s to protect them for life from any harm and neglect. killing a chicken results in a softban and a townwide funeral procession. killing multiple chickens is a permanent ban.

lalna and lalnable dabble in mad science, and for once, the two get along. they accidentally clone one another, forget to lock the doors and have to slaughter their runaway clones. the scene caused an investigation done by the thumb of truth and an official hearing. cloning isn’t against digfart’s laws, so lalna and lalnable clone everyone and preserve the bodies underground posed in entertaining dioramas. they charge five gold ingots for the tour, and a chest full of diamonds for a specific one to be constructed.

vox and their siblings build a giant monument to bebopvox. it goes as high as the sky and is perfectly symmetrical from top to bottom. they harvested materials and built it without hiring anyone, a testament to their diligence and determination. they even applied early for the building and statue permit. honeydew was unsettled when they all visited at once to seek the permit. this was because they all wore the same skin, just in different colours. only larry robert spoke. the rest stared at honeydew. it’s hard to say ‘no’ to that.

fyreuk run a history tavern, which charts the development and founding of digfarts and notable town achivements. they keep it up to date, and in exchange for music discs, will write ballads to honour said achievements.

lomadia logs in when nobody is on the server, and moves a single object to the left by one space, or switches items around, or leaves signs saying ‘i know what you did’, etc. so far, everyone is convinced that the server is haunted. vox pretends not to know about it.

martyn and minty run law enforcement, and swagger around town keeping the whole place in order. they have their fingers in every pie. their motto is ‘you do the crime, you do the time’ which is cheesy as hell but they’re actually pretty good at their job. they talk to vox to arrange trials and how long a ban should last if someone breaks the law multiple times.

sherlock refuses to join the server because he knows that people will bully him into playing their secretary, treasurer, errand boy, etc. he has a secret identity though, and logs in as ‘hulmes’. people play along with his pretend investigations since he actually writes pretty good newspaper articles as a result. fyreuk collect said articles too.

larry robert and their siblings are builders; the thumb of truth usually hires them to build things. the reason why larry robert and co can’t be left alone to build is beause they’ll keep building and never stop until it’s done. they crafted the entire road and railway system in one night, which sparked riots and fights due to everything needing names, all at once. honeydew put the permits into place as a result, which states that ‘only one party can build at any given time, and it can be completed at one’s leisure and has to be realistic so that fyreuk doesn’t cry over piecing the timeline together’.

bebopvox isn’t allowed on the server due to their irl identity but that doesn’t stop their kids sending them updates. the street surrounding te statue of them is called ‘ridge avenue.’

arsenal has to have someone watching him whenever he logs in since he has ‘the devil’s hands’. he runs a monthly auction house. he auctions off especially rare materials and custom goods needing a new owner. more importantly though, he’s the only official party who can sell the special chickens, which means that his auctions are a big event that nobody wants to miss.

the bloody bandits operate as blacksmiths attached to strife and parvis’ business. they’re expert miners, and for some reason, also operate the local cemetary. they note down how many times someone has died, and update the headstones. the cloning business caused a real hang-up as none of them could agree what to name the clones of lalna and lalnable.

i know i left some people out but the server is limited to frigate peeps to stop breaches into vox’s systems since the whole server relies so heavily on vox. there’s been jokes that they’re all playing in vox’s brain...which isn’t actually that far off the mark.

vox devotes quite a bit of processing power into maintaining and keeping the whole thing running smoothly. they’re unusually fond of what the frigate created, which possibly explains why any henious world breakage is treated as a in-game crime and punished accordingly.

[petaldancing]

wow guys, i learned about yuletide (a fic exchange for obscure fandoms w <1,000 fics on the net.. like.. hmm.. HYOUKA!!) from @brella and am stoked to take part in it this year! you get to write a letter to the person who’ll be fulfilling your request, so here is mine~

hello (future) friend and (current) yuletide writer!!

This is actually the first year I’m participating in Yuletide! (And also the first year i that i’ve gotten back into writing fic after a 3 year hiatus!) I’m excited, and I hope that my prompts will help spark inspiration for you and that you’ll enjoy writing this piece as the year draws to a close. Thank you so much in advance for this, and I look forward to reading whatever you have for me! 

general

i prefer:

gen, het, or femslash

G - M ratings (if the latter: no to underage (below 18 y/o, for me), yes to character-driven, build-up + pay-off! when the sex isn't the highlight of the story but a nice complement.. wow!!)

any length you have in mind for the fic

you to write a story that you've been meaning to but haven't gotten around to! or one that you'd love to have under your belt! (:

i can't deal with/DNW:

drug use, death, gore/violence/assault, dub/noncon, abuse, angst, kinky stuff, unhappy endings

i will cry tears of joy for:

stories focusing on ladies, their r/s (platonic, romantic etc) w other ladies, their characters & motivations beyond just the romance

(but i still thrive on romance ahaha)

characters losing themselves but then finding themselves & becoming stronger (w or w/o someone's help)

(un)resolved sexual tension, unexpected kisses that take both parties by surprise, almost kisses, being trapped in small spaces, mutual pining etc

characters drifting apart over time but then reconnecting and falling in love again

wacky humour

shoujo tropes used in good doses

unlikely pairings that work

platonic fic on unlikely friends/vitrolic best buds esp between a guy & gal

fics about characters who've hardly interacted in canon (!!)

canon divergence (as long as it leads to interesting r/s between characters)

ten years later post-canon fic!! (esp if characters are high-schoolers in canon)

WITCHES! guy witches work too

recurring motifs/symbols

i also love AUs, particularly:

pacific rim AUs

role reversal AUs

I live for AUs that bring out character dynamics you know & love except in a diff universe! but you don't have to write AU fic!

fandom specific

1. Hyouka to say this is my favourite, most precious & treasured piece of fiction would be an understatement!! i give all my heart to hyouka’s themes (finding your identity & place in the world, relating & empathizing with others, following your passion etc etc i could go on) which were told beautifully through a wonderful core cast of 4 characters! the depth and flaws and emotional weaknesses of hyouka’s main cast is Too Much For Me To Bear and i love them in any and all permutations and just WANT TO READ ABOUT THEM ALL THE TIME!! also i’ve written satomaya to the moon & back but let me tell you... i would still read satomaya content any day ehehe. BUT i am very intrigued by satoshi & chitanda’s r/s which hasn’t been written much about in the fandom yet so maybe??? HMM!!

ships: satoshi/mayaka, houtarou/chitanda but would be also open to mayaka/houtarou or satoshi/chitanda because that always intrigues me

prompts (optional, of course!) - Mayaka & Houtarou having a huge falling out, like SERIOUS falling out, and it’s up to Satoshi & Chitanda to work together to get the two to make-up and get the group back together!! - Satoshi & Chitanda working together to solve a mystery without the help of Houtarou & Mayaka, who’re usually the two who are better at solving cases!! - On the flipside, what about: 5 times Satoshi dislikes Chitanda, and 1 time he doesn’t.  - Soul Eater AU!! this is a specific AU i’ve had in my head for awhile but would love to read someone’s interpretation of it!! who would be the meisters/weapons, what forms would the weapons take?? a fic where the four find each other and become partners/duos would be worth a BILLION yuletides!! - in the same vein, fire emblem AU! here’s a post i wrote about it years ago but still relevant and feel free to tweak the classes - older!Houtarou/Chitanda who stayed behind for college in Kamiyama visiting Satoshi/Mayaka in the big city/Tokyo (optional as to whether the two pairs are dating yet, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if they weren’t at the start of the fic!!) - any mayaka-centric fic, perhaps a fic about her trying to set Chitanda/Houtarou up? w accomplice Satoshi (+10000 points if she and Satoshi AREN’T DATING! YET! !! COLLAPSES) also i guess it works the other way too!! chitanda trying to get satoshi to confess to mayaka, dragging houtarou along in the process... you know it’s good when both pairs aren’t dating yet

2. Hibike Euphonium

this anime is a good example of me loving the small moments and characters so much more than the overarching plot! i liked s1 more than s2 because of the development of kumiko and reina alongside each other, but i loved the spin s2 gave on kumiko & asuna’s r/s! while this anime isn’t a top fav of mine, the r/s between the ladies in this show is SO GOOD!!! would love to see what you can do with it!

ships: kumiko/reina, kumiko/asuna, am p alright w most other ships too except shuu/kumiko, i’m really not interested in that at all, but shuu as a character? yeah OK i guess prompts - 5 fives they climbed the hill together, 1 time they didn’t (kumiko/reina) - a fic about kumiko chasing asuka down but always missing her!! i.e. following her to uni in the big city (only, her uni is like nowhere near close enough to asuka’s), moving out of home and closer to asuka, trying to join the prestigious band asuka’s travelling with etc etc, and finally catching up to her!! - ten years later fic! reina comes back into town after touring with the national orchestra, kumiko (who stopped playing the euphonium) tries hard not to fall in love with her & the eupho once again... and fails, of course - a fic that examines reina falling out of love with taki-sensei and developing feelings for kumiko would be wonderful for my heart too!!

3. Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun

i am so so fond of this anime and its gags! while the character dynamics are incredibly fun to watch, they also feel very ‘predictable’, not only because of the running jokes but cause their r/s never seem to advance that much. so i would absolutely LOVE if you threw me fic about the most unlikely pairs that don’t interact so much in canon and hence have less running jokes, i would love to see what pans out, and the fic needn’t even be romantic!! ships: nozaki/sakura, kashima/hori, seo/waka, also interested in kashima/seo and sakura+hori

prompts - kashima + seo: i find their r/s v interesting?? would love for a fic to focus on their interactions, esp since i vaguely rmb seo being a bit wary of kashima at first - hori + sakura: i think they would work as wonderful partners in anything they do and would love anything that explores their r/s! maybe sakura has to help the drama club for a performance? - ten years later fic would work wonderfully for GSNK! what’s everyone doing now? wouldn’t it be funny if all the r/s were p much the same, but also kinda different? - Akatsuki no Yona AU! (whether yona is sakura or mikorin, you decide! haha)

4. Fune Wo Amu

this is more of a wildcard pick because um, I REALLY LIKED THIS SHOW! i loved the attention paid to the world of dictionary publishing but specifically, the seemingly insurmountable ocean of words & meanings & the desire to bridge the gaps that so naturally form between people... this show calmed my heart so much and i would love fic which brought me back to that calm and reflective atmosphere & those lovely characters prompts -  over the years working, majime learns the definitions of words through his interactions with the people in the office - nishioka becoming a dad leads to everyone in the office inevitably taking turns parenting his kids!! either because they need to babysit, or because he brings em to company functions etc  - sasaki on her first day of work vs last day of work - any fic that explores how majime & nishioka influence and change each other’s lives would be nice as well ahh...

thank u again dear writer, may you have a wonderful end to the year and i hope that whatever good things and bad things that happened this year, you’ll carry on strong and even better in the next!! happy writing and please eat well and stay warm (: 

[thewritingduckling]

A China Rose: Chapter 5

Summary: Y/N was once an employee at Prince Adams castle along with being his childhood friend but she doesn’t remember. Caught up in the curse, she ends up in Villeneuve where she stands out. But circumstances arrive and she somehow returns to the place she once called home, and a beast she once thought a friend. A multi-chapter fanfiction. CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 

Authors Note: This is by far my favourite chapter that I’ve written so far. I hope you like it as much as I did writing it. Things are picking up speed, plot wise. If you haven’t read my post about it, I’m currently doing exams (yay) so updates may be irregular compared to the usual Monday/Thursday schedule, but I promise to try as hard as possible to stick to it. Like always, tags and requests are OPEN! So are any questions. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 5: A Castle of Roses You stared up in awe, now blissfully unaware of the fact that you were chilled to the bone. The castle seemed to almost grow out of the ground and up towards the sky like a flower. The gates in front of you seemed to be made out of solid ice that shone like large diamonds in the pale moonlight. The grounds were extensive and covered in a layer of pure white snow, blending all of its features together. The castle was extremely dark against the white that was surrounding it, almost like a beacon of darkness. There were many ornate towers that shot up by different amounts into the sky, all of which had several equally as decorative windows, which made you wonder how many rooms the castle had. The windows were all as dark as the night except one down below by what you thought were some doors. A shiver ran up your spine as you stared. 'Oh right, heat' you thought as you kicked your heels into the side of Phillipe, making him slowly approach the ice gate. Once you reached it, however, you realised it was made of metal but ice had simply frozen around it. You were about to unsaddle to go and pick the lock on the huge gate but before you could the gates forced themselves open. Phillipe took several steps backwards in fright but you urged him through them. "Come on Phillipe. If they opened then they clearly want us here." As you approached you wondered who 'they' were. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You had dropped Phillipe of at the bottom of the staircase where there were several troughs full of food and water, which made you wonder where the other horses were. You climbed the carefully carved stairs slowly, both out of apprehension and the fact that your legs were shaking from the cold. As you got closer to the grand doors at the top you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sadness, as if the castle, despite its grandeur was a prison. You paused before the doors, slightly overwhelmed by their size. They towered over you and you questioned how you were to open them alone. You decided to knock, as it was only polite to give your unknown host a chance to ensure your entry was allowed. You waited several moments for a response but just received a large gust of wind to your back. With a large gulp you pushed the door open just enough for you to slip through. As you closed it shut, you noticed that the door had cracked around the lock, and the lock was old with rust and dust. You started to question whether anyone had left or entered this castle in years. Lost in your thoughts you didn't realise that the coat rack to the left of the doors had approached you from behind and removed your coat from your shoulders. It shook it of snow and you absentmindedly said "thank you." You turned to the coat rack to see who had relieved you of your damp cloak but no one was there. Confused and cold you shook away the ominous feeling and turned to face forwards. You let out an audible gasp. You had never seen anything more beautiful. A large, carved marble staircase adorned with gold decorations stretched out in the middle of the large hall. To your left was a large archway with broken doors leading to the beginning of an equally as ornate room, what the purpose of the room was, was a mystery to you. However, you could see several vines and leaves protruding slightly from the doorway. You were about to head over to the archway, curiosity overcoming your manners, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard voices, no louder than whispers coming from your right. "Look, a girl!" "I can see that! I may have lost my humanity but I still kept my eyesight." "But what if she is zee one?" "Lumière, shh! She might here you." You practically sprinted towards the whispers. You stopped abruptly before you reached the archway to the room where the voices had come from. You listened carefully for anymore sounds as you stepped into the room. It had several pieces of furniture just as lavish as the previous hall did but to your surprise, no people. There was a decorative rug thrown on the floor with a carved mahogany table on top of it. Two emerald coloured chairs with gold furnishings sat behind it and they were covered in a thin layer of dust making them slightly paler than the colour that was intended. The table had not a trace of dust, and upon it sat a candelabra made of solid gold and an extremely detailed mantle clock. The candelabra followed the same motif as the rest of the gold decorating that adorned the majority of the castles walls. Swirls and plants were clearly visible. The clock looked like it was trying to mimic an atlas and galaxy, with its decorations. You picked it up and studied all of it carefully, it was truly incredible; the intricacy of it all. "Fascinating." You said out loud as you placed the clock back on the table. You looked up and saw a fire not far from the table and chairs. There was a small stool in front of it and you quickly walked over to the roaring flames. You were so focused on the heat, that you didn't hear the candelabra snicker at the clock. You reached the fire and you let out a loud sigh. You plopped yourself down right in front of the fire, not bothering with the stool. As you slowly thawed you began to relax more and more, but the knot in your stomach still remained. You spent the minutes looking around the room. There was a lot of very expensive furniture including a large shelf unit and several wooden tables with decorative vases and other knickknacks. You turned to the window to see that the blizzard that was once raging outside had calmed down significantly and was now a simple dusting. You had almost thawed completely when you heard faint music coming from the entrance hallway. You rose slowly from your position by the fire, so that you could thank your host, who you presumed was the creator of the sweet melody that was echoing throughout the castle. As you left the room, you realised how cold you were before as you could feel your limbs working much more smoothly as you walked towards the music. As you passed the staircase you realised that the music was coming from the room with the vines and broken door. You entered carefully, and just like in all the other rooms you were blown away by its beauty despite its state of neglect. Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling but they were covered in such a large amount of cobwebs that it was difficult to see what colour they were supposed to be.  There were several circular stain glass windows on either side of the room, creating an illusion of floating orbs in the middle of the room. Vines were growing up the walls, spreading out from a balcony opposite from the doorway where you were standing. Leaves scattered the floor which was rather dusty and smeared (along with several cracks in the marble). There was a large crest in the centre of the floor, clearly etched and painted extremely carefully. To the side of the balcony was a pile of broken wood, with bits of navy velvet and gold metal protruding through the splintered planks. You slowly realise that this must have been a ballroom of some sort, and you couldn't even begin to imagine how beautiful the parties held in it must have been. You could see a harpsichord to the left of where you were standing, and it was clear that the music was being created by it. Unfortunately you couldn't see your host who sat upon the stall by the keys as a pillar was placed directly in your line of vision. "Hello?" You asked as you began to walk down the steps to look round the pillar. Almost immediately the music stopped and a barely audible "Oops." was heard. You passed the pillar to look at the harpsichord to see your host only to find the stool empty. You furrowed your brows in confusion. The room, like the rest of the rooms you had been in was devoid of all life. You looked carefully around and was about to go over to inspect the harpsichord but a loud clang from behind you made you jump and turn around in fright. There was no one behind you and so you followed where the noise came from. You looked behind you one last time at the former ballroom before walking back towards the fire room. You entered to see that the candelabra and clock were no longer on the mahogany table. In fact they were nowhere to be seen. Questioning where they could have disappeared to and who made the large banging sound you didn't hear the voices coming from behind the door that adjoined the room you were currently in. "Lumière, I insist that this is a bad idea." "Cogsworth, she's cold and starving, it is zee least we can do, non?" "But if the master..." "Oh hush now. What the master doesn't know won't hurt him. Now Chip, no moving. We can't have her more confused and scared than what we've already done." "But Mama!" You had looked around the room thoroughly for a trace of a person walking into the room to room to remove the objects without you noticing but to no avail. You stood up straight and stretched, the heat from the fire doing wonders for your joints.  It was only then when you noticed a faint glow coming from behind the door at the end of the room that you thought that the person may have gone into that room. "Finally, the host." You said to yourself as you walked over to the door. You knocked once before opening the door. "Thank you for..." You began but when you looked you once again saw that you were completely alone in yet another ridiculously ornate room. This time it was a dining room. A large table filled the room with several chairs surrounding it. Like the other rooms all the chairs were covered in dust bar one at the end of the table nearest to you. You stared at the chair confused. Someone did live here but why wouldn't they show themselves. All you wanted was to say thank you for their hospitality. You looked to the far end of the table, and your mouth began to water at the sight. Food was laid out on silver platters, as if inviting you to tuck in to their contents. Your stomach rumbled and with little thought you practically sprinted over to the meal. Forgetting all manners you plopped yourself down on the chair (creating a small cloud that poofed upwards). You began shredding away at the bread, ignoring the provided cutlery. You helped yourself to cheese, to vegetables and a stew which you think contained beef. You drank well-made tea, which you poured from a small but extremely detailed china teapot and drank from a matching teacup, which had a small chip by its handle. Every time you placed the teacup down on the table, you swore it moved closer to you but you were too busy eating to care. When you felt like you could burst, you relaxed into your chair which still expelled dust with each small movement. You looked to the window behind you to see that the gentle snowfall, once blizzard, had now ceased to nothing. Picking yourself up, you stood and walked to the door, almost certain you were close to overstaying your welcome. "Thank you," you said to the dining room as you left, hoping that your mysterious host would hear you. You walked briskly past the fire into the hallway, to the door where the coatrack still stood holding your now warm and dry cloak. You wrapped it round yourself quickly, and tied the knot so that it wouldn't fall off. You re-adjusted your bag on your shoulder before turning round to face the staircase once more, wanting to remember the beauty of the interior before you left. With one final look you did a small curtsy, as a way to say thank you (as well as wanting to seem like a princess that were in your stories). With that you pushed open the doors and left the clock, coatrack and candelabra to lose hope in you being the one. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Whilst you had been feasting and exploring, Phillipe had also been fed and rejuvenated. You had saddled him and set off almost immediately. You were trotting slowly away from the steps, heading once again for the ice gates, but clearly Phillipe had other ideas. He stopped abruptly at the beginning of the large drive, before turning to the left and travelling down the smaller path heading round the back of the castle. "Phillipe, not that way!" You exclaimed as you tugged at his reigns to make him turn round to no avail. Apparently he didn't want to enter the woods again, and he wanted to find a back exit. Despite every effort on your part to make him change his mind he kept on trotting forwards. Eventually you gave up and just used the time to take in as many details about the grounds you were walking through. The majority of it were lawns with sculpted bushes and trees surrounding them. There was the occasional fountain, which had frozen to form an ice sculpture of some sort. You couldn't even begin to imagine what the grounds would look like if there was no snow. You imagined vibrant colours everywhere and you knew it would be like a fairy tale, along with imps and other mythical creatures hidden in the shrubbery. You smiled as Phillipe took a path that walked by a small frozen over river. Up ahead was a bridge that crossed the river, and beyond it was a large frozen lake, that shimmered like glass from the stars twinkling. You felt like the view was familiar but you couldn't understand why. As you approached the bridge you looked to the left and saw several stone pillars with thorns wrapped around them. You pulled Phillipe to a halt as you stared through the vines to see roses. Familiar roses. You dismounted Phillipe and walked towards the pillars. As you got closer you realised that there was a gate at least thirty metres away from where the pillars ended. You walked under the stone archways made by the pillars to find yourself in a rose garden. You stared around before it hit you. You had dreamt of a place similar to this rose garden and bridge only this morning. However, that was a dream. This and your dream world weren't the same. There were no pillars in your dream, no castle, but there was colour, warmth, happiness. Something that this garden lacked. All of the roses here were white. It freaked you out really at how white they were. They were whiter than the snow you stood on. You walked over to one of the bushes in the centre of the garden. You skidded on some ice whilst walking there but now you stood at the foot of one of the bushes, a rose directly in front of your face. It was so fair, so dainty, so eerily beautiful. You reached out to touch it to find that it was extremely soft. 'It would be beautiful to paint.' You thought, but you couldn't paint it now. It was too cold. You looked around to see if anyone was near you. No one was (bar the gargoyles that sat atop the pillars and wall where the gate was). If you took one rose, you'd be able to paint it later in Touquet, plus you'd always have a momento from the time you found a castle in the woods. You carefully pulled on the stem, to ensure that there were no thorns that were to dig into your fingers. Eventually the rose broke free and for a few moments you got to look at it in awe. Not for long though. A roar erupted from atop the wall and one of the gargoyles dropped down so that it was a few metres away from you. With the moonlight behind it, you could only see the outline as it approached you. Stumbling backwards, you floundered for words. "Please.... Don't hurt me...... I'm sorry..... I'll do anything..... Just don't hurt me..... Please." You begged as it kept on coming towards you. You stepped back, forgetting about the ice. In one swift movement your legs came out from underneath you. You flew backwards and landed on your back, completely winded. Your head threw back at the sudden jolt, smashing into the ground. The world around you became blurry and black at the edges. As you stared upwards, unable to move from fright, the gargoyle's shadow enveloped you and the last thing you see is a flash of sky blue against the darkness. With that you slip into unconsciousness.

Tag List: @rainwing-galaxy​ @loneliestlittlerainbow​ @bucky-with-the-metal-arm​ @liviacollettex3​ @caseynathan​ @langinator​ @casangelcake​ @scarlinrouge​ @an-anxiousace-from-outerspace​ @molethemollie​ @no-butter-before-marriage​ @plethora-of-things​ @quiettranquility-blog​ @jedi-dreea​ @juls-verne​ @blueinkblot​ @frozenhuntress67​ @iwyr​ @quickies-with-quicksilver​ @beastsenchantedrose​ @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night​ @theeeeens (It won’t let me tag you, I’m so sorry)

[starshonerose]

[01242017] Aoi Shouta 「flower」 interview with Natalie.mu・I tried translating (bits and pieces!)

Link (There’s pictures!)

*Please take my translations with a grain of salt as I am not a person that is fluent in Japanese nor have taken lessons, etc. before.

Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes!

I sincerely want to kill myself ‘cos it’s a busy day after school but I abandoned the rest of my homework to do this

I left out the general stuff about Flower and stuff that were too hard for me to understand (I’m sorry,,,)

I’ll bold the questions/interviewer’s words and leave it normal for Shoutan’s

Italics are just.. my words explaining what he said bc I can’t come up with a proper translation

Underlined are the sub-topics..?? Of the interview parts??

Aoi Shouta’s flower that can’t be shown to anyone

When Kahori Maki accepted the request to design the jacket and whatnot for ‘flower’, as soon as he was done drawing he said “This is a flower that is drawn specially for Aoi Shouta. I will not show it to anyone!”　That was what he said.. I feel very happy

Were there any specific requests made for the illustration? “Since the motif [for this single] are ‘flowers’, casa blancas would be nice” was what I said, and we only discussed about the overall image and colors. But when I saw the final work I was unable to express how I felt as it was a lot prettier than I expected.

Why did you request casa blancas specifically? Previously I was asked “What kind of flowers does Aoi-san think about the most?”, at that time my image of the flower was white in color and simple, but has big petals which was why I thought of casa blancas. After that I became curious and searched it up, and got to know that casa blancas mean “Eternal bonds” or “Genuine thoughts for people important [to me]” in flower language.

This is a perfect impression of Aoi-san’s treasured bond with the fans, right~ That’s right! It’s quite a story, I guess casa blancas are flowers that is a charm brought by fate because it’s a flower that has such a meaning in flower language. Ever since then, I’ve been liking casa blancas, so I decided to make them the motif for this time’s single. There was some pressure to film the MV and have photoshoots for the jacket with the beautiful casa blancas by Maki-san, but I think that it ended on a very good note. Basically I didn’t want to put in any colors for anything except the flowers, I had do to the shooting, including the costumes, entirely in white.

A message that leads to the live

He tried to have all 3 songs of the album suitable to dance to

A dream that surely will not be fulfilled by one person

There's a line in the song that says, "It's a fantasy that we can't see if we're alone", right? Yes, there's also a phrase that goes "It's a dream that we can't see if we're alone", I have thought all of that. Lives especially, and work in the anime industry, is a dream that can only be fulfilled if we work together with many people. 'We absolutely cannot fulfill a dream if we're by ourselves' is what I think. When I sing this song [flower], I always think of that.

To preserve everyone’s favourite singing voice

He said he didn’t have much time to learn the dance but the dance sensei worked hard to teach him within the time given

He goes to karaoke alone to practice singing

A song that cheers for those who’re working hard

Run!!Run!! is a song that he wrote to cheer people up and to support the people around him that's working very hard to not give up [on what they're working on]

From the Smile Mermaid play he was watching the young child (the one that played the dog?) practice his dance movements with the dance sensei and the fact that the young child was working so hard really amazed Shoutan and it's what inspired him to write Run!!Run!!

A song where the wolf howls and barks

Checkmate has some lines that imply sexual stuff so it's more to a love song, quoting from him he said "So that the listeners could get a more addictive(?) and sexy side of Aoi Shouta"

Was it not embarrassing to sing such songs? I used to get embarrassed, but nowadays not that much, I guess it just feels nice to sing

I guess the protagonist is something like a dangerous wolf, I wonder if the wolf can actually sing or would it just be lots of barking (laughs) I would like to voice a character like that

Do you not feel nervous when being up on a huge stage? No I don’t, because everyone is there, so I don't feel any fear.

I would like to make these two performances a great success, making 2017 a very fulfilling year

Is there something that you personally want to do in 2017? Personal? I don’t think I have anything that I want to do in private, the things that I want to do are mostly about work. Ah, but I would like to play tennis with my seiyuu friends, I feel like having a match with them. Also I would like to change my phone! This little one(phone), I kinda feel bad (laughs) I'd need to close my eyes while I change it!

Some things to take note of:

To be honest this interview was pretty hard for me because I’m literally only a beginner in translating and Japanese [language] so it’s really short.. I’m sorry..

I swear I am literally the WORST in wording stuff out so please check the original thing or ask someone that is better.. in translating

gdi i love shoutan so much

Thank you for reading~ (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*