#about her unconventional interests and sources of comfort

[inamindfarfaraway]

The Pixies need to be villains in A New Wish just so that Hazel, canonical lover of paperwork and the predictable monotony of places it is done like the DMV (*cough*, autism, *cough*), can have so much fun with them that it makes them have a breakdown because they're not meant to be fun! They're meant to be boredom incarnate! They rob kids of joy, they don't give it to them! Who is this child? What is going on here?

[cryptickane]

Sand Dunes

warnings: suggestive no smut, female reader, reader is curvy and larger than average but nothing super specific, reader is insecure about her body, oberyn loves it, bad self image, body worship, short and sweet 1k.

Beneath the scorching sun of Dorne, you walked with short, hesitant steps, keeping your arms ahead of you as if to make yourself appear smaller. The unforgiving desert landscape seemed to amplify your sense of insecurity.

As you strolled through the Water Gardens, you couldn't help but steal glances at Prince Oberyn Martell, who walked beside you with his characteristic confidence. His dark eyes held an intensity that both unnerved and intrigued you, and you wondered what had drawn his attention to someone like you—a woman who felt like an anomaly in comparison to the many slender, elegant women of Dorne.

As you walked alongside Oberyn, you couldn't help but steal glances at the other women around you. They moved with a grace and confidence that seemed inherent to the women of this region, their lithe figures adorned in flowing silks that accentuated their every curve.

Your gaze lingered on them, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place among such beauty. Their laughter, their poise, and their effortless sensuality—all things you admired and, at the same time, felt painfully aware you lacked.In the presence of these women, your insecurities deepened. You glanced down at your own body, your curves more pronounced, your movements more hesitant. You had always felt like an outsider, an imperfect piece in a mosaic of perfection.

Oberyn, however, seemed to see beyond your self-doubts. His gaze remained unwavering, a hint of admiration in his eyes that made your heart flutter with a mix of uncertainty and longing. You wished you could see yourself through his eyes, to understand what it was about you that had captured his attention amidst the splendor of Dorne.

As the sun beat down upon the two of you, you continued to walk beside Oberyn, his presence both a comfort and a source of confusion. You couldn't help but wonder if he saw something in you that you had yet to discover—a beauty that went beyond the superficial, a charm that lay hidden beneath the layers of your insecurities.

Oberyn's gaze lingered on you, and you instinctively tried to make yourself smaller, your steps becoming even more cautious. The thoughts of your perceived imperfections weighed heavily on your mind, and you couldn't help but feel like an outsider amidst the allure of Dorne.

In the midst of your internal struggle, you heard Oberyn's voice, soft and soothing, breaking through the insecurities that had held you captive for so long. "My dear, there's no need to hide yourself. The sands of Dorne may be endless, but they hold no secrets from my eyes."

His words, though unconventional, carried a reassuring warmth, and for the first time, you dared to meet his gaze with a hint of curiosity. There was something about Oberyn's unapologetic acceptance that made you question the harsh judgments you had imposed upon yourself.

The golden sands stretched far and wide, mirroring the curves of your own body, which you had always regarded with a mix of admiration and insecurity. Oberyn, a man of both charm and confidence, had taken a particular interest in you, despite your hesitations. As you strolled through the gardens together, a warm breeze rustling the palm fronds, his eyes never left your form.

His words, like a gentle caress, had a way of making you feel both beautiful and desired, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way that defied your insecurities.

"Would you like to tell me what troubles your thoughts, my dear?" Oberyn's voice was laced with genuine concern as he continued to walk beside you, his stride matching your hesitant steps.

You hesitated for a moment, your gaze shifting from the distant horizon to the man beside you. Oberyn's dark eyes held an understanding that encouraged you to open up. "It's just... I can't help but feel unsure of myself. I'm nothing like the women here, they're so confident and graceful, and I..."

Oberyn stopped and turned to face you, his expression softening. "And you feel like you don't belong? Is that it?"

You nodded, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. "Yes. I've always been more curvaceous, but it is more visible here, I see the way men look at them, the way they never look at me. I can't help but compare myself to them."

Oberyn smiled, a reassuring touch to his lips. "Would you like to know what I think? You are like the sand dunes of Dorne—unique, with your own allure. The curves that you see as imperfections, I see as the embodiment of the desert's sensuality."

His words were unexpected, and they left you feeling a mixture of surprise and warmth. "You do?"

Oberyn nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Absolutely. Beauty comes in many forms, and it is not practical to confine it to any one ideal. Your uniqueness is what sets you apart, and it is what has drawn my attention."

You couldn't help but blush at his candid admiration. "Thank you, my Prince."

He extended a hand, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gentle caress. "You are a treasure, my love. Embrace your individuality, for it is what makes you truly beautiful."

As Oberyn's thumb traced the curve of your cheek, you felt a sense of acceptance and comfort wash over you. In that moment, you began to let go of some of the insecurities that had held you captive for so long, realizing that your uniqueness was something to be celebrated, not hidden behind meek posture or unfitted dresses.

Oberyn, ever the observant man, smiled as he noticed the change in your demeanor, his gaze smoldering as he leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a sensuous whisper. "Remember, my love, it's the curves in the sand dunes that make the desert come alive."

As Oberyn's warm breath brushed against your earlobe, your heart quickened in response to his intimacy. He slowly pulled away to look you in the eye. His thumb traced your lower lip with a delicate touch, sending a shiver down your spine. The intensity of his gaze, as he looked at you up and down, left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet an unfamiliar wave of desire washed over you, mingling with your newfound confidence.

[xbomboi]

misc. bribelle thoughts

prefacing this by saying bribelle is my favorite ship. actually might be one of my favorite all time ships considering whenever i catch 11:11 i make a tweet on my priv twitter saying “11:11 bribelle and rarijack” because i’m insane.

anywho…

i think it’s a lot easier to justify saying faybelle potentially has feelings for briar in a canon context because even aside from her diary, her behavior in epic winter can most definitely be read with flirtatious undertones, especially after witnessing the dream sequence

but i’m always trying to justify things to myself in accordance to canon without feeling ooc, because i’m the type of creative who would rather write my own original thing than make alterations to a pre-existing work. that’s just me.

and briar is trickier to do so with. in the show alone, she only actually verbally responds to faybelle once and it’s a line that also adds exposition. “but it’s forbidden!” girl come on throw faybelle a bone at least…

by epic winter, i’d say briar could potentially have had surface level attraction to faybelle, but it isn’t until having that dream and probably especially post-epic winter when she’d get time to actually reflect on it that she’d start to develop palpable feelings for her.

i’ve kinda noticed something about briar: she likes attention. i guess she’s kinda like faybelle in that respect.

briar grew up with neglectful parents. fill in the blanks. why wouldn’t she want attention when she lacks it properly from the two most important people in her life?

along this line of thinking, briar especially values explicit displays of affection, particularly from a potential romantic partner.

so, regrettably, let’s look at her relationship with hopper.

i.e. briar’s behavior in the webisode “Here Comes Cupid.”

when she first confronts hopper about his unconventional advances, she’s disinterested and borderline repulsed.

but after hearing him profess his love via the recording, she’s taken aback and actually grows endeared.

until this BAFOON fumbles the bag and does some really creepy shit by leaning into her personal space and calling her hot. understandably, this miffs briar and she once again loses interest.

(side note, too many people ignore how blatantly creepy hopper is to women, ESPECIALLY briar. he needs to be held accountable, not rewarded by getting the girl.)

even then, despite not necessarily returning his affections, she’s somewhat comfortable in the status quo that he devotes his attention to her. which is exactly why i think in bunny’s diary (bunny is wrong btw she doesn’t know a damn thing so idk why the one wiki that’s not the official wiki list hopper as briars crush when the source is bunny’s word like fuck all) bunny mentions observing briar appearing disappointed when ginger asks hopper to the dance and he accepts.

to briar, it’s like she’s losing one of the few things she’s familiar with, the few constants in her life. in this case, her only plausible option who she’d have reason to believe would accept. and we all know how briar is about losing things.

briar sorta settles into this state of fondness towards hopper’s affections, despite them being unrequited. because at least he gives a damn about her.

faybelle—at least, outside of her diary and up until epic winter—might as well be any villain; faybelle just wants to cause chaos for the sake of ruining somebody’s day. and i don’t think briar likes it that way.

i’d assume around the time of faybelle’s introduction to the series, briar’s stance would be one of upset towards faybelle, believing she doesn’t take their story as seriously as she(briar) does. that her role in sleeping beauty isn’t as important to her as being evil in general.

i have half the mind to say that this could potentially be read from briar’s behavior in faybelle’s diary.

first off, that underlining wasn’t added; the underlines are in the official print. meaning briar is putting emphasis on those words specifically. sure it’s a lesson to faybelle about not being an asshole, but also it reflects on briar in a way. like it could be her saying, “you’re supposed to be my villain, but you act like i’m no different to you than anyone else.”

now, this next part is obviously a surface-level gag about faybelle making a malicious act seem so thrilling, but if we close our eyes and pretend that we’re in a different world called I.D.G.A.F. dimension, we can now analyze this in a different light.

briar’s confused by faybelle’s verbal expression of almost-affection. it doesn’t help that she’s most definitely barely awake. but i’m willing to say her confusion is partially born out of actually having heard faybelle say such a thing. it’s gotta be surprising and hard to believe in that moment, because briar has every reason to think otherwise.

in the show, like i said, faybelle just does whatever the fuck. open a sweat shop? sure why not. assist her peer’s mom in attempting to turn the entire world into her own dictatorship? count her in. make a deal with the mafia? just a regular tuesday. but god forbid she focus on being the one to make the sleeping happen in sleeping beauty.

i think that irks briar. or at least make her generally act indifferent when faybelle comes waltzing around to do god knows what; if she won’t care, why should briar, right?

then there’s epic winter. or, as i like to call it in bribelle terms, “they finally fucking interacted”

when briar explains faybelle’s inclusion of herself to crystal, she simply says it’s her thing and cites the sleeping beauty story. like “hey crystal this is my villain btw, trust.”

later when briar’s yapping about the story, some may say it’s counterproductive in relation to briar’s arc that ashlynn brings up the miserable part of it only for briar to talk fondly of it, but i know briar personally, and have been filled in as to what the truth is.

briar dropped that attitude because faybelle was there. she started talking up the story, almost as a cue to faybelle, like “hey remember how you’re like a big part of my life’s purpose???”

faybelle butts in about it. and briar doesn’t get the chance to respond, but i think she was almost expecting faybelle NOT to gaf, so her doing so threw her off just a little. maybe she expected to hear something like “who cares?” instead.

then of course when they get to the castle briar’s little act is dropped and her deep fear of the sleeping beauty destiny is once again present. and of fucking COURSE that’s when faybelle decides to CARE ABOUT THEIR STORY.

listen to me, LISTEN. briar looks at faybelle BEFORE faybelle actually says “no, there’s another room far more important to our story. isn’t there, briar?” she looks at her BEFORE she actually talks. she was looking to see if she’d react, then when faybelle does speak she looks away, then she bumps her to get her attention so briar has to fight the adhd and lock in.

and faybelle just keeps instigating which honestly kinda takes briar out of her typical sulking over her destiny mood and more of like ‘what is your game here exactly’ mindset.

there’s so much to that look briar gives her. so many emotions in there.

after this they go up and faybelle taunts some more only for briar to almost actually prick her finger yada yada. and like i said, it’s a lot easier to understand faybelle’s pov. it’s very clear she doesn’t actually wanna go through with cursing briar, teasing and all. she makes as much obvious by her reaction alone when briar gets too close.

but once briar’s fine she’s like ‘yeah, okay, back to normal,’ meanwhile briar is kinda just done because faybelle is acting a fool. but she never shoves faybelle off of her unlike she did when hopper intruded on her boundaries huh briar why is that what’s that about briar still, briar has yet to have any indication from faybelle about how she actually feels in regards to their story and her role in it. or how it pertains to their relationship with each other. rather, faybelle doesn’t take it seriously much to briar’s chagrin.

then the dream sequence happens.

to me, this is the turning point.

it’s a stupid music video for an insert song, but goddamnit it confirmed darabella and even hunter got to be there with ashlynn so i’ll die standing on business.

this is what briar’s been waiting for from faybelle. that frenemy status is something i think briar wants to figure out which one to see faybelle as, depending on how she really wants to proceed with the story. and i’d say faybelle surprises her; hell, she even shows her a side of her rarely seen.

like with hopper, an outward display of affection such as this is something briar is drawn to. faybelle’s display towards briar in the dream sequence is something briar would be endeared by, as she goes out of her way to prevent her from experiencing the very thing she’s been dreading for so long. that’s gotta fit briar’s love language.

side note, i think it’s very very interesting to note that faybelle is the one to swoop in and save briar in this case, without any other characters present to show a significance in the ending of the story. i say this because hunter gets to be in ashlynn’s sequence and the bears are in blondie’s, despite none of them being in the tower asleep. all this is to say, if briar really did have feelings for hopper or really was gonna end up with him or some guy, they’d be there, right? but nope, just faybelle. I Understand.

after that we don’t really see them interact at all again, but there’s the general disdain for faybelle’s actions as a shared sentiment amongst the others. either way, by the end she shows remorse and seemingly ends on good terms with everyone, meaning i don’t see why briar wouldn’t be left thinking about the dream, seeing her in a whole new light. honestly briar would probably be kinda intrigued by the idea of the bad girl having a soft side for her. briar and i actually spoke about this the other day.

either way, this is briar learning that despite the general ignorance faybelle portrayed, she actually does care about her.

faybelle demonstrating, proving to briar that she is capable of showing affection and actually does care for her is what i think is enough for briar to begin to start falling. (which is kinda reflected in how i approached their relationship in fable fest.)

because briar knows there might actually be something there.

or maybe it’s a kid’s cartoon and one girl mean other one nice, idk.

[bivht]

I asked AI how to spot the rising signs…

Here’s how to guess someone’s rising sign, along with a breakdown of each of the 12 signs, including traits and a celebrity example for each:

1. Aries Rising

Traits: Bold, energetic, assertive. They often come off as confident and direct.

First Impression: Dynamic and action-oriented.

Celebrity Example: Lady Gaga �� Known for her bold presence and assertiveness.

2. Taurus Rising

Traits: Grounded, calm, and reliable. They have a strong physical presence and love for comfort.

First Impression: Approachable and steady.

Celebrity Example: Adele – Exudes warmth and a down-to-earth quality.

3. Gemini Rising

Traits: Curious, talkative, and sociable. Quick-witted and adaptable.

First Impression: Lively and engaging.

Celebrity Example: Kanye West – Known for his articulate and often spontaneous communication style.

4. Cancer Rising

Traits: Nurturing, sensitive, and intuitive. They come across as caring and protective.

First Impression: Warm and inviting.

Celebrity Example: Selena Gomez – Known for her empathetic and approachable demeanor.

5. Leo Rising

Traits: Charismatic, confident, and dramatic. They have a strong presence and sense of self.

First Impression: Regal and enthusiastic.

Celebrity Example: Jennifer Lopez – Commands attention with her vibrant personality.

6. Virgo Rising

Traits: Analytical, detail-oriented, and practical. They may seem reserved but are observant.

First Impression: Organized and composed.

Celebrity Example: Beyoncé – Known for her meticulous attention to detail and professionalism.

7. Libra Rising

Traits: Charming, diplomatic, and sociable. They seek harmony and balance.

First Impression: Graceful and pleasant.

Celebrity Example: Will Smith – Known for his charm and ability to connect with people.

8. Scorpio Rising

Traits: Intense, magnetic, and mysterious. They often have a deep, probing nature.

First Impression: Powerful and enigmatic.

Celebrity Example: Leonardo DiCaprio – Exudes intensity and depth in his roles and public persona.

9. Sagittarius Rising

Traits: Adventurous, optimistic, and freedom-loving. They have a philosophical outlook.

First Impression: Outgoing and enthusiastic.

Celebrity Example: Taylor Swift – Known for her adventurous spirit and positive outlook.

10. Capricorn Rising

Traits: Ambitious, disciplined, and serious. They often exude responsibility and determination.

First Impression: Authoritative and focused.

Celebrity Example: Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson – Known for his strong presence and disciplined approach.

11. Aquarius Rising

Traits: Unique, innovative, and independent. They embrace unconventional ideas.

First Impression: Eccentric and open-minded.

Celebrity Example: Oprah Winfrey – Known for her unique approach and humanitarian efforts.

12. Pisces Rising

Traits: Dreamy, compassionate, and artistic. They have strong intuition and sensitivity.

First Impression: Ethereal and gentle.

Celebrity Example: Rihanna – Known for her creativity and emotional depth in her work.

Tips for Guessing Rising Signs:

Observe Behavior: Look for personality traits and how they interact.

Consider Physical Presence: How someone carries themselves can give clues.

Ask Questions: Conversations about their interests or how they perceive themselves can provide insights.

Source: ChatGTP

[singswan-springswan]

Batfam brainrot said imagine a Hunger Games AU for them and I have little self control so now I'm thinking about it. Which is tricky. Because I'm not very familiar with the DC cast at large. Things I headcanon:

Tim is the tribute of interest. He's reaped despite his name only being entered once, and it's kind of a quiet political scandal, but no one really makes a fuss because his parents suck.

Bruce is Tim's mentor. Can't decide if he's from the Capital or not and serves as a mentor after volunteering to go to the districts or something something administrative bs maybe he actually is from the districts and is a victor

Dick is definitely a past victor in the same district---I'm thinking District 1 because aren't they supposed to be fancy and stuff? Fits with both the glamor of the circus for Dick and the wealth of people like Bruce and the Drakes (full disclosure my knowledge of the Panem verse is limited to stuff from fics and the movies and personal curiosity research) Dick is highly desired by Capital Folk for his physical beauty and alluring charm and yet very exclusive as far as prostitution goes because Dick resists tooth and nail as much as he dares behind the scenes. Also Bruce does everything in his power to help, which sadly isn't much since the system is rigged but it's better than the alternative

Don't let Dick's pretty face and sunshine smile fool you; he won his games through unconventional brutality. He's a lethal fighter and one kriff of a detective, while we're at it. Definitely a huge asset to the rebellion

Of course Tim knows that Dick Grayson and his famous father Bruce Wayne are part of some rebellion against the Capital. He's not snitching. He thinks it's cool. He asks to be part of it when he's reaped, and the predatory tension in Grayson's toothy grin would mean less beside Bruce's stormy scowl if the rebellion hadn't gotten Jason killed two years ago. Tim knows about that too. He knows it's a big deal, but he's probably going to die anyway so he might as well help out in the few weeks before then.

The Joker was gamemaker the year of Jason's death. Idk exactly why he ended up being a tribute because surely at that point Bruce has adopted him. Maybe he volunteers for a kid who's like twelve and has no one, and Jason figures he stands a solid chance because he's been training for years and also his family is the Waynes, but the Joker ends up killing him violently and horrifically and a lot of people grieve across the country. No one expected Jason to be killed. Die, maybe, but not be killed. The Joker's the only one who finds the whole thing entertaining. He disappears soon thereafter without a trace (Dick and Friends commit murder).

What no one knows, however, is that Talia saves Jason's body from the arena and resurrects it with the help of her father by the time Tim's game rolls around. Jason is broken and beaten and lost and confused and full of rage. His only comfort is knowing his family avenged his death. Under Talia's guidance, he continues training, though he must keep his identity secret from everyone, including his dad and brother. This version of Jason isn't as antagonistic as canon and actually works to help the rebellion as a secret agent/informant once his time with Talia is over. He's ruthless. Does lots of crimes. His combatant training, calloused mind, and the freak detective skills instilled by his father make for a deadly combination, and he begins to operate as an urban legend within the Capital, collecting every dirty secret every political corruption and the long list of quiet atrocities to use against those in charge later on, leaving a bloody trail of bodies in his wake. Talia couldn't be more proud. As part of the rebellion, Bruce is grateful for the intel this anonymous source provides, but a little unnerved by the methods everyone knows (but can't prove) he's using to get it.

The Al Ghul's and the League of Assasins can just be the government's enforcers. Talia specifically is in charge of training the tributes before the games, so it makes sense for her and Bruce to cross paths occassionally. They're tentative allies. She's not necessarily a rebel, but she is a little bit in the loop and is content to see where the chips fall either way. Damian is raised in semi-secret. Obviously no one knows he's the son of the reknowned Bruce Wayne, but he does publicly exist, if barely. Talia would have sent him to the career academy if she wanted her son anywhere near the games. She doesn't. She and her father can train him just as well without the dead end that path leads down. Besides, he's the child of her beloved as well, and she wants Bruce to know the kid past eighteen.

Steph might be one of the other tributes in the same game as Tim. They become fast friends and she almost instantly worms her way into the rebellion. It gives Bruce a bajillion gray hairs because now he only has two weeks to figure out how to get them both out alive and the star crossed lovers thing hasn't worked ever but faking someone's death is twice as complicated and he's pretty sure Tim could only sit still long enough if he passed out from caffeine overdose. Then Duke is there too with them big ole eyes and sometimes the lights glow brighter in the room when he walks in and Bruce is getting too old for this.

Cass is a mutt created by the Capital. She's originally used as a weapon to eliminate perceived enemies of the state, etc etc and honed into a living weapon. Somewhere along the way she finds Bruce when he's doing Spy Stuff or something and he survives her assassination attempt and decides yeah okay always down for another kid, disregarding the fact that she may or may not be human exactly and doesn't appear to have any experience actually being human. It's okay though. Dick's teaching her how to dance. She might not know what language is yet, but she's learning to dance and that might be better anyway.

Tim's game very nearly goes to kriff because Bruce almost can't fake everyone's death in time, and if he wasn't able to pull it off, he and Clark and Selina and Diana and a bunch of other people were fully prepared to storm the arena and shut it down themselves to save the kiddos. But it's okay they made it to the end. Tim enjoys being legally dead a lot more than might be healthy and everyone is grateful he's on their side. Who "wins" that year's game? Maybe Kon. Bart's fake death was really dramatic and Dick laughed the whole time he was watching. Duke is convinced the leaked radiation from his faked death gave him super powers. It's all Bruce can do to make him not test that theory in the most unhinged dangerous chaotic way possible.

It isn't until the quarter quell or whatever that the rebellion breaks containment. Previous victors are reaped so Dick is thrown back into the wringer despite public outrage hehe. Barbara can be there too. I'm thinking she's from district 3 because tek and she and Tim can be hacker buddies. She was paralyzed by her game. Maybe sprinkle in some Roy, possibly Titans and a token Slade for goofs and giggles. Naturally, half these people are part of the rebellion. The rest definitely know about it. There are riots. They blow up the arena. Whoopsies, started a war.

It isn't until the batfam relocates to district 13 that Jason is revealed to be alive. I'm imagining them narrowly escaping the chaos in the Capital, bruised and battered, bunkering down in this secret forgotton part of their country and then Jason's just sitting in the cafeteria sipping coffee reading Hamlet. He looks just as startled to see them there as they are to find him. His boots are muddy on the table. No one else in for military rations seems to pay that any mind. Tim's pulling out his mobile blood toxicity test kit to check for hallucinagens in their systems by the time Jason works up the brain function to sip his coffee again. "Sup Dad" He says casually, because he's a little piece of crap.

I think Bruce faints.

the funniest part is that Jason's been keeping tabs on his family ever since etering the field full time, so he knows them all very intimately but keeps forgetting he's never actually met some of his new siblings so sometimes they go really still staring at him like they're talking to a ghost and he gets snippy about it before he remembers. Damian's the only one who knew Jason was alive and doing his own rebel thing because Jason taught him how to read when he was still training with Talia but Damian never mentioned it because "no one ever asked" (read: he's also a little piece of crap)

not really sure who the president would be. Idk if there are any villains down to earth enough that could reasonably fit the bill but also be general enough to account for all the other heroes not included in the batfam ie the supers and wonders and lanterns martians and everyone in between. Anyway the point is that that loser (or maybe group of losers; i wouldn't be opposed to an oligarchy dictatorship) is going down by the power of family and friendship. The rebels win because they have more fun. Good for them we stan some quality shenanigans

No one we like dies

Alfred makes everyone cookies

[sotcwcrp]

Meet ShadowClan's High Ranks!

Only 12 days until Secrets of the Clans is open for new members! Today we're going to be getting to know some of the ShadowClan cats you might meet upon joining!

Russetstar LEADER - 86 MOONS - SHE/HER art by; phrögMütt Russetstar is the proud leader of Shadowclan. A traditionalist sticking closely to the Warrior Code throughout her life, the queen had a track record of acting in an uncompromising manner, a trait which has slowly lifted as she’s learned her understanding of the world may not be complete, and that adaptation is necessary. She’s an incredibly hard worker and strict to her sense of duty, even at her own detriment. Shadowclan means everything for her so she would lay it all down for her home.

Shadetalon DEPUTY - 106 MOONS - HE/HIM The current deputy of ShadowClan is a senior tom named Shadetalon. This massive, scarred tom is known for his intimidating presence, but don’t let his cold gaze fool you. While certainly rather serious, deep down the ShadowClan deputy is a deeply caring and protective tom, loyal to his Clan and the code above all else. That being said, rumor has it he's a bit too close to a certain RiverClan tom he insists is simply his best friend... However, Shadetalon has three grown kits with his mate, who was once his childhood best friend, so certainly the rumors are only just rumors. Either way, no cat could doubt his work ethic and conviction to serving his Clan above all else.

Noctule's Wing HEALER - 96 MOONS - HE/HIM Once displaced from his home, Noctule's Wing holds much nostalgia for his original home and their ways. Having had a rough start in ShadowClan's midst, he's resistant to conforming to the Clan's ways and finds most comfort in the midst of other healers and his family. He most often wears a practiced calm, easy look to him in hopes of putting others at ease.

Pipistrellepetal HEALER - 59 MOONS - SHE/THEY/AER/VAE No matter what clan you're from, Pipistrellepetal is happy to help! This shadowclan healer who hails from the far off mountains is known to be Kind and a bit Scatter brained at times. Ae does worry often and works day and night to ensure the health of aer clan! Pipistrellepetal has a wonderful mate and five lovely kits! Despite her friendly air vae have yet to make too many friends outside the healers' den, but maybe soon they'll be able to make more!

Vividskies HEALER - 49 MOONS - HE/HY Mender of broken bones as well as a source of broken hearts, Vividskies was a bit unconventional of a pick to join Shadowclan’s team of Healers some twenty moons ago between his cross-clan heritage and capricious personality. While his only known parent Flurryfall isn't too fond of his antics, hys twin brother Quartzshard (both available as adopts) has only contributed to the chaos. Vividskies is a tom who prefers to spend his time on poetry and playing to hys whims over the politics of being a council member. Thankfully his skills in healing make up for it, though said whims have certainly gotten Vividskies in trouble before. At least hy now seems to be on the straight and narrow… things will be fine so long as no one finds out about his two mates in Thunderclan, right?

Flame's Light HEALER - 46 MOONS - HE/THEY Flame's Light is a red sepia lynx point with classic tabby stripes and chestnut brown eyes! Some other notable features are his sharp, overgrown canines and a mane of fluffy starting at his back leading up to his head! They are one of the healers of Shadowclan, starting their training very young at 6 moons all the way to gaining his name. He's an... interesting fellow, to say the least, and seems more focused on business than more casual activities. He is relatively polite, though, even if that thousand-yard-stare in his eyes might signal otherwise.

Sugartooth HEALER APPRENTICE - 114 MOONS - THEY/THEM A snappy old albino cat known for their short temper and fierce protectiveness. Sugartooth has seen ShadowClan through thick and thin, for better or for worse.

Applewish HEALER APPRENTICE - 32 MOONS - SHE/HER Daughter of the deputy, Applewish grew up wanting to be the best- and now that she's been given a second chance to become a healer, she's striving towards that goal harder than ever. Her ego can get in the way of her relationships with others, and she has a tendency to get snippy when tested, but she means the best for the clan.

Come join us! Our website, Our server.

[itsmaferart]

Spy x Family x Chairs Vol. 4 - 5 -6

Previously, I did an analysis of the covers of the SxF Vol 1,2 and 3 manga volumes. I saw that it had a great reception, and that motivated me to continue analyzing these particular chairs and the possible background. I hope you like it! :D

Context:

Due to the wars and the multiple consequences, many architects who went through these times of change, sought new alternatives from labor sources, leaning towards the industrial area and furniture design, in this specific case, chairs. As a way to exhibit pieces of art, architecture that were part of the everyday life of the citizen. Although each architect has its own history, and each chair has its own concept. Interestingly, in SxF the consequences of war is a fundamental element governing history, and the covers were no exception. Each chair not only represents a comfortable seat for the character, it reflects aspects of his personality, of the time with a very interesting background story. So I come to give you my little analysis and opinion about it.

SxF Vol 4 · Bond Forger - Ball Chair by Eero Aarnio

The Ball Chair was designed by Eero Aarnio in 1963. The Ball Chair is also known as the globe chair and is famous for its unconventional shape. It is considered a classic of industrial design.

The Ball Chair is not a simple piece of furniture, it is conceived more as an architectural piece than as a chair. The chair was presented in 1966 at the International Furniture Show in Cologne with great success, becoming part of the favourite retro chairs of the public and thus one of the best designs of the second half of the XXth Century. The Ball Chair is a room within a room, a shaded atmosphere is created within the chair, a totally different concept to what a chair was until the arrival of Silla Ball. This atmosphere, protected from external noises, is perfect for reading a book or making a call.

This chair with futuristic features, was handcrafted in small quantities with fiberglass. Being his concept of modernist furniture

Bond: Worf! Worf!

Although it is a chair made in the last century, we can see the futuristic vision of Eero, as an ancient element can fit perfectly with the minimalist design of the present. Obviously, this is an allusion to the "imperfect precognition" of subject 8. Bond can see the future, and this allows him to adapt to the possible circumstances that may happen.

It is also designed to generate a quiet space for the user, an imperturbable space. Which would be best for our canine friend if he wants to take a nap in peace. I love the reference to television with antennas, which is a way of interpreting Bond's powers, being diffuse images that are captured briefly, very similar to his sporadic and involuntary visions to black and white. Agent Bond Forger just found his ideal chair.

SxF Vol 5 · Yuri Briar - Barcelona Chair

 Is a chair designed by Lilly Reich and Ludwig Mies van der Rohe for the German Pavilion at the International Exposition of 1929.

The design was developed at a time of reconstruction after World War I. The designers who prepared the German pavilion had the responsibility of showing the resurgence of German culture. Having to take advantage of new technologies and materials developed during the war. In this sense, the design of the chair is a cutting-edge proposal for domestic use.

Its form is based on the "sella curulis," a type of chair used by Roman magistrates. The connection to the view of the structural frame and the seat dampers as separate components, and the use of traditional and modern materials, adjusting to their functional purpose, perfectly adapt to Mies' conception of the international style.

Lilly Reich was a modern German designer.Because of the First World War she focused on fashion and furniture and set up her workshop as a shop. Its production was highlighted in the newspaper Fachblatt für Holzarbeiter in 1915. That same year she organized the Exhibition for the Fashion Industry in Berlin.

Unlike you, I love my family. I love my sister. And I will do whatever it takes to protect this country that she lives in

It is curious how this chair represents fundamental elements of Yuri's personality, which many people ignore because they focus on his flaws but do not see the background of the character

The Barcelona chair was inspired by sella curulis, which was used by the "Roman magistrates": Which, were positions and powers to perform functions related to the administration and political direction of the city. Which fits perfectly with Yuri's work in the SSS as a secret police, along with elements such as tape recorders, handcuffs and the gun. And while this chair also evidently represents the German trans-world war reconstruction, it is interesting how these elements give a clear outline of what the SSS stands for in Ostania, and thus Yuri. In his work hunting spy and traitors.

But there is a totally opposite and contrasting element. The white orchids, which in the symbology of flowers symbolizes the purity of intentions, elegance, eternal love through time, and full of innocence. They are a popular gift for people you love and admire, can be given to friends, family and of course couples. But this is considered a symbol of admiration and good intentions

Which, represents perfectly, that although Yuri is an extremist person, crooked and erratic behaviors. Love for his family is sincere, pure, and full of admiration. It is obvious that the way Yuri demonstrates his love is obsessive, and strange (we can say it is wrong), but he does so not because he is "someone evil," but because he is someone who does not know the boundaries between the "normal" and the non-normal. (I regret veryyyy much, that in the anime they changed for roses, because they completely change the meaning of Endo in the manga and on the cover… but well…)

One detail that makes me imperdible, is that this chair was designed primarily by a woman- Lilly Reich. Who was one of those few women's representatives in Germany, especially exalting the work of women at home.

Why does this represent Yuri? Because Yuri values the work of the woman, or in this case, the work of Yor that she did over the years that she tried to raise him. Being a pillar in the personality of Yuri, who lives conscious of the dark world where they live, and the number of people (men) unfaithful to their wives, who use them and do not value them. Yuri lives with constant guilt, remorse and fear for having been the "cause" because Yor had to sacrifice her life, and in his immaturity not knowing how to live with this feeling of "hatred" of himself ends up unleashing this guilt on other people who cast away their family.

I will be brief with this mention, as I would like to touch this topic further in a separate post.

In the light novel, Yuri feels a deep hatred for a man (in a child role-playing game testing professions) who says (playing a character) that he "beat his wife" for not knowing how to cook. This shows how aware Yuri becomes that he and his sister are not normal people, especially, that Yor is not perfect in the imposed social roles given to a mother. and he lives in fear that a man might attack his sister.

While it is not right for him to have these problems of self-control and his mind frequently distorts reality (he comes to channel that fear and imagines the face of Loid Forger in that actor) - I understands perfectly his fear in a society with people who blindly create prejudices about "social and family roles." Where they believe it is justification for verbally and physically assaulting someone who does not meet these expectations. The known domestic violence

Yuri really values and loves his sister with pure intentions. And he hates a cruel (machista) society that weighs the value of the woman (his sister) for simple everyday functions. And so he carries this fear to such an extent that he wants to eradicate all this evil so that his sister can live in a society, a country, where she is safe.

(We are all clear that Loid (Twilight) would NEVER do something like this. But this is part of what Yuri must learn. Not all people are evil)

It makes me very transcendent that Endo chooses a chair that was designed mainly by a woman, in collaboration with an architect Mies van der Rohe. And just be the furniture that represents very well every feature in Yuri.

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SxF Vol 6 · Ninghtfall/Fiona Frost - Heart Cone Chair

Designed by Verner Panton in the late 1950s

As an armchair that relays a certain joy of living, it is especially suitable for informal spaces or to give a fun touch to an excessively sober environment. However, on a decorative level it is a piece that takes the focus of all the looks by itself, so it must be clear that it channels the rest of the decoration.

In the words of his designer:

«"Most people spend their lives living in a sad grey-beige conformity, with a deadly fear of wearing colors. By experimenting with lighting, colors, fabrics and furniture, and using the latest technologies, he tried to show new ways to encourage people to use their imagination and make their surroundings more exciting. "»

"What a wonderful man you are, Twilight. I'll achieve peace between East and West. And I’ll do it all for you"

I think, although this armchair is too obvious, it doesn't stop being interesting.

It is curious how the function of this chair is to contrast with a sober and dark space. This happens aesthetically on the cover, seeing the color red, a warm and passionate color, contrast with the cold and sober appearance of Nightfall, and its cold tones. In fact, this goes from being merely aesthetic, to representing Nightfall's personality.

Who although outside is a cold woman, would be, ruthless that she does not mind using tricks to achieve her goals. Deep down is a tender woman, thirsty for romantic love, sweet and a life of fairy tales. The function of this chair is to manifest joy and feelings, despite being in a place with minimal decoration.

Which is perfect, considering that Nightfall (being so extreme) took to the letter Twilight's instructions to "show no emotions," becoming an inexpressive woman but wanting to shout to the whole world her desires to "love"

As mentioned, this chair should "channel" the rest of the home decoration. Which alludes to Nightfall's every action being channeled by her fervent desires to get love from twilight. Desiring to find world peace only for him

I'd say I worry about seeing Yor's photograph with a scissors nailed to her forehead. But knowing that Endo clarified that Ninghtfall is very weak to Yor and that she could with a finger send her to outer space if she wanted to… well… let the agent live in her fantasy "xD

This is the right chair for a passionate (and obsessive) woman who appears to be cold and calculating

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I hope you like this little contribution from me. I really love the idea of Endo doing such a detailed study of his characters and the way he symbolically represents them. The chairs being not only an aesthetic element, but something significant!

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What did you think?

You can see the first part here

You can read the next part here

[hornime]

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata 

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere. 

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched. 

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.” 

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements. 

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.” 

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix. 

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.” 

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs. 

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist. 

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[regrettablewritings]

Preference: What Does Amortentia Smell Like to Them?

Amortentia, for those unaware or having forgotten, is the name given to what we would call a love potion, as depicted in the Harry Potter universe. While the  nature of love potions is dubious at best, the one thing I think amortentia’s got going for it is that its aroma differs depending on the person, so no two people will always smell the exact same thing. Generally speaking, a proper amortentia will smell like whatever the individual is drawn to or likes. As a result, this can mean that it smells like anything, from reminders of home to the smells of their favorite foods, to the smells that bring them comfort, to reminders of the people they love and were loved by. Things that would soothe somebody enough to be tempted enough to sip it. I thought it would be interesting to explore what smells make them happiest/feel the most love and loved. So without further ado . . . 

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dinah Lance, Benoit Blanc, Geralt, M’Baku

Bruce Wayne

Prime rib. Aged scotch. Expensive perfumes spritzed on the necks of statuesque stunners . . . These are the smells Bruce came into contact with the most, and they were symbolic of the luxury that his lifestyle was open to.

And they were also far from what Bruce would likely smell if he were to ever come across amortentia.

Surprisingly, Bruce enjoys much simpler smells. Smells with specific memories and feelings attached to them. For example, his mother’s perfume: Bruce doesn’t remember the brand, and it honestly probably wasn’t anything too expensive (his mother, for the most part, preferred to air on the side of modesty, all things considered), but the scent nevertheless is one that comforts him even to this very day, many years later. It reminds him of his youth, of his mother pressing her hand to his forehead whenever he ran a fever, of the hugs she would give him before and after school. It is a comforting smell, and one that reminds him of the safety there can be in being loved.

The smell of buttery popcorn is a another favorite, albeit bittersweet. Of course, it has connections to that tragic night when everything changed. But there’s just something about it . . . Just being with his parents. Seeing a movie together, that one last moment . . . It took Bruce years before he could properly cherish the stimuli found on that night without a feeling sinking into the pit of his stomach, or without a hint of static screeching in his mind for a second. But the day did come. And perhaps in a route of recovery, he finds himself enjoying the popcorn smell and the lighter memories he’s become determined to assign to it.

The most recent smell to join his favorites, however, is that of fresh laundry. Not linen washed and dried in premier detergents or fabric softeners, mind you: Just whatever brand you’d been using that one day he came home. Whatever they were, they were what the house smelled like. It was what he smelled when you walked up to him, balancing a basket of freshly-dried linen on your lip. It was what filled his nostrils when you exchanged a “welcome home” kiss.

It was the smell his body tucked away to mark the moment: It was the point he truly realized that you were It for him.

Dinah Lance

The problem with Dinah is that she’s a bit of a tough cookie to crack: She doesn’t easily let people in, much less show any signs of vulnerability, and she constantly exudes the idea that she’s indifferent to the people around. Well, she tries to, at least. But in spite of it being a non-sentient potion, the amortentia knows better: The moment Dinah smells the stuff, she’s hit with a whirlwind of soft spots. All of which concern you, from one very specific moment.

Dinah’s dating life has never exactly been on point, but she was willing to see what happened with you when you came around. She really wasn’t rushing to put a title on whatever it was the two of you had, be it drinking buddies, party buddies, or, God forbid, Girlfriends with a capital “g”.  That is, until one particular night out: You suspected that maybe a run with the Birds hadn’t gone as planned, because you were currently watching your . . . drinking-party-boo-thang-buddy . . . pounding shots like they had money at the bottom of each glass. But you weren’t about to push for details. She vaguely remembered appreciating that at the time, but didn’t remember much else when she woke up with a pounding headache the next day.

Beneath all the grossness of her current existence, she appreciated how everything otherwise seemed to be blessedly merciful: The curtains were closed, muting any damnable light; the sheets weren’t stifling enough to cause the vodka sweats; the t-shirt she now wore smelled like your soap --

She didn’t remember you taking her back to your place, or you taking the time to not only changer her out of her tightly-fitted clothing and into the much more breathable sleeping shirt. And when she stumbled into the kitchen to find you quietly setting up the table with some takeout you’d just picked up, she realized she didn’t remember you joining her in bed or even the feeling of you waking up, either.

But when she tried to bring it up, you insisted it wasn’t a big deal. Instead, you shooed her away to the bathroom to take a much-appreciated shower. And the moment she stepped into the bathroom, she smelled it: Your hair products. They weren’t even anything special, just the usual kind you could grab at one of the many rinky-dink, common beauty shops that lined this area of Gotham. Hell, Dinah had some of them herself. But the smells were just so strong that her memory couldn’t help but file them away. They weren’t even nauseating to her vulnerable state, just . . . strong. Enough to latch on in his mind, right alongside the pho that greeted her when she had finally finished cleaning up. 

Soupy dishes were the best for combating hangovers, you reasoned. So while it might’ve been an unconventional brunch dish, it was one you made sure accounted for your drinking buddy/party buddy/maybe-girlfriend’s current state. And while it wasn’t in Dinah’s more immediate nature to feel all “mushy” and “gushy” about it, it wasn’t something that slipped her attention, no matter how garbled it might have been in the moment.

Fast-forwarding to now, there’s no question about it: You are one another’s Girlfriends with a capital “g”. And if Dinah were to catch a whiff of amortentia, all she would be able to think about would be those smells that remind her of you.

Benoit Blanc

It’s no secret that Benoit loves himself a good cigar. Specifically, one of the lancero variety if it happens to be on hand. Smoking is a bit of a guilty pleasure of his but clearly not too guilty, considering he’s still prone to doing so while on the job. He just flat out enjoys the rich, almost spicy flavor, almost masochistically tickling his lungs with every puff. But he supposes that that’s just how addiction works, so it would make sense that that’s one of the things he would gather from an amortentia brew.

Less than expected (at least, to those that aren’t him), however, is the scent of mothballs. Or perhaps it’s best referred to as an odor, because while it isn’t the worst smell, it’s not exactly one that many would call pleasant, either. But to Benoit, it reminds him of playing in his Nana’s attic, making blanket forts from her quilts and the trunks and her old hope chest. Admittedly, it isn’t a romantic or even particularly enticing smell but for Benoit, it’s just right: It fills him with the melancholic sweetness of nostalgia, reminding him of a time where he felt so safe and blissfully ignorant to what a strange world he lived in.

An ignorance that was sullied as he grew older and began to follow somewhat in his father’s footsteps, becoming ruthlessly torn apart once he officially entered the world of investigating. However, this wasn’t to say that he had been left bitter and vulnerable. In fact, in his older years, Benoit can’t help but know that there’s plenty of things left in life to see the beauty in, and to find pure happiness and optimism with.

Take, for example, Chinese food.

Plenty people might find themselves identifying the bouquet of food in amoirtentia: The MSG-rich noodles and dumplings, the mouth-watering scent of rice fried just long enough to obtain a hint of crunch to it . . . It would make perfect sense for someone -- anyone, really -- to list them as one of the things in the amortentia. And these reasons are all well and good, but they aren’t the reasons Benoit would identify it.

As it so happens, Chinese food was what he smelled one day as he entered the precinct, looking for files related to a specific case. It was because you were the one eating it. And whether he committed the details of that meeting to memory because it was in his nature as a detective, or because his soul somehow knew it was important that he remember, every image and reminder that his senses could gather were grabbed with desperation and held close.

And ever since then, every time the man has smelled Chinese food, it’s been accompanied by a sense of warmth; a feeling of relief and happiness that washed over him like a hug sourcing from his heart and soul.

But also hunger because come on, it’s impossible to not feel your stomach growl and mouth water when you smell that stuff.

Geralt

To be perfectly frank, Geralt and pleasant smells do not commonly go hand in hand. It’s honestly hard to when you spend so much of your time on the road, away from a bath, and fighting monsters with none-too-pleasant-smelling innards. On top of this, that his sense of smell is only enhanced by his mutation can make enjoying certain aromas difficult at best and borderline incapacitating at worst. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate good smells when he encounters them. He just may not actively voice his approval of them.

Hell, he might not even admit to himself what he enjoys.

He’s most ready to allow himself to enjoy petrichor, as most anyone would be able to find that enjoyable. There’s very little intimate reason behind liking it; but his constant ventures in the wild have allowed him a stronger familiarity than most with it. It’s particularly gratifying when he and Roach have some semblance of a shelter to lay beneath, able to watch the fat drops replenish the dry earth . . . It’s a calming scent for him, one that he won’t necessarily fight himself for liking.

The complete opposite of the second smell that shocks his senses: That of a home-cooked meal. Now, this may cause some confusion to many, given that home-cooked meals are generally considered downright pleasant things. And considering that the Witcher doesn’t come across many during his travels, one would assume he’d relish in such a scent bearing meaning for him. But for Geralt, they’re reminders. Ones he doesn’t want to have, but has nonetheless. Which is a pity, given that what he assumes is the source isn’t entirely the truth.

For Geralt, smelling a home-cooked meal surely is linked with his memories of his mother. But for his subconscious, it’s got more to do with what such banquets mean: Stability. Safety. Structure. Things Geralt’s nomadic lifestyle is lacking. You can’t quite have a feast of roasted pheasant and quail eggs and roasted vegetables from the garden or fruit tarts when you travel so constantly: You need a foundation. Someone to help prepare such a meal with. Someone to share with.

And the thought frustrated Geralt. That is, until he smelled the third and final scent.

Having an awareness of botany and plantlife as a whole comes with the education of being a Witcher. So of course, Geralt knew what the properties of certain flowers were, what they were used for, and so on. He never thought of them beyond practical means such as for healing for for herbs or teas. And he never thought much of lavender until he smelled it on you. You giggled sheepishly as you explained that you couldn’t help yourself: This was the first inn you had stopped at in ages, you had wanted to treat yourself to some scented oils.

“Lavender for relaxation,” you explained. “I want to take full advantage of sleeping in a bed for once and just fall straight to sleep the moment my head hits that pillow.”

Geralt nodded, not knowing what more to offer. But he also sniffed. Not with bemusement, but with . . . need. He liked the smell. He liked the smell on you. It was calming. You were calming. It wasn’t an epiphany or anything; it was just a moment his brain decided to capture by way of scent. And now it was in there, inside him, reminding him of a moment of relaxation.

It is the most calming scent that the amortentia can offer for him personally, and he would never out loud admit to it being his absolute favorite.

M’Baku

The thing was, given his intentionally secluded lifestyle, M’Baku’s aroma library was rather limited when compared to his peers in the Golden City, especially with regards to those who traveled out of the country. But that suited the Jabari leader just fine: He had his sovereign, his people, and a recognized alliance with the other Wakandan tribes after centuries upon centuries of isolation – what more could he possibly want? Truthfully, very little, which was why what he might smell from an amortentia would probably be rather limited.

Really, the top three smells he could make out could be divided into sections of his life: A smell for his origins and youth; a smell representative of his progress as a leader, opening up to new experiences; and a smell that signifies how far he’s come as a whole, both as a person and as a Jabari.

Living in the snowcapped mountains of Jabariland meant that the man had always been around fire: It lit pathways on torches; it lit up and warmed rooms of dwelling spaces; it cooked food. While it had become common in the more modernist world to associate fire with destruction, the Jabari never forgot the truth: Fire was also life. It was also the source of that peculiarly sweet smokey smell that M’Baku would be able to single out in a batch of amortentia. It is a reminder of his traditionalist roots, harkening him back to the life-giving light that guided his people through all their lives, even as the rest of the country marched onward without them. And even when he gains a position in the Tribal Council, thus demanding him to familiarize himself with some aspects of the country’s use of vibranium in day-to-day life, it’s remembering scents like that familiar smell of fire that brings the Jabari leader a sense of calm even in times where he finds himself frustrated.

However, it’s also through gaining this position that his worldview and experiences grow. And for better or for worse, he has you to blame.

Even as the both of you became more and more involved, convincing somebody as stubborn as M’Baku to accompany you anywhere in the Golden City was a bit like pulling teeth: Usually, the warrior would try to spend as little time as necessary in the capital, much preferring to immediately begin taking the journey back to the mountains as soon as whatever affairs he’d left them for had ended. But time’s way of weathering things down worked on plenty things, including M’Baku’s obstinance: Eventually, he did take up your pleas offer to accompany you to an actual restaurant, rather than a food stall in the market place. You chatted up the vegan and vegetarian selection, hoping that taking note of his diet might soften the blow to his pride he was already taking. It didn’t. In fact, to your surprise, it wasn’t until the food came that there was any positive shift in your beloved’s mood.

Being the sort of man that he was, M’Baku was generally rather staunchly against eating anything that wasn’t sourced from Wakanda. And given that Brussels was not, in fact, a city in Wakanda, you were fully prepared to either consume or put aside the small side of roasted Brussels sprouts that accompanied your entree. What you weren’t prepared for, however, was the curious look on M’Baku’s face as he eyed the small bowl full of vegetables. He seemed to be perfectly content eating his roasted fish dish just moments before, but apparently something about the smell of your side dish was . . . curious to him.

You thought it was startling, to say the least. You thought perhaps Bast or even Hanuman were at play when the man actually asked to perhaps try the tiniest smidge of sprout. And you just about nearly died when your boyfriend wound up inhaling the bowl in the end. Meanwhile, M’Baku was just as shocked: the M’Baku from four years ago would never have dared to try anything grown outside of Wakanda’s borders. But perhaps that was just a testament to the sort of person he was now.

For one thing, he didn’t know you four years ago, let alone have you as a partner. But now he did. And that honestly changed everything, all things considered. Because if he never met you, then he wouldn’t have known what the third smell in the amortentia was. Really, even while knowing you, he still wouldn’t be able to identify the exact nature of it: Your body oils were a concoction in and of themselves.

They didn’t smell exactly like anything specific, yet they constantly smelled too close and familiar to scents M’Baku thought he knew from his exposure to perfume stalls in the market place: There were hints of tea tree oils; eucalyptus; lavender; some almond? A hint of sage, perhaps? A spice he couldn’t name . . . Though not quite any of those. Yet, whenever he inquired you on what you used, what gave your rich skin its melanin glow, all you would respond with would be a teasing smile. As though you were pleased the scent caught his attention and interest (which, to be honest, was indeed something you enjoyed).

If M’Baku was “lucky”, you would respond with, “It’s made with a special Jabari bait; looks like it’s working”, and he would scoff, dissatisfied from your lack of answer, but not so much that he would become disenchanted with whatever scent you chose to go by that day. Because whatever it was, whether you’d ever tell him its ingredients or not, M’Baku had already made up his mind about what the scent was: It was just (Y/N) to him. And even though he’d gone so much of his life pretty certain that he already had everything he needed, having (Y/N) made him stand corrected.

So it made sense that a potion meant to entice and draw a person in would smell like his favorite person.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Green Gold

Summary: 

"The one Levi had picked out was of a minimalist design. The color in particular though was what stood out. At first glance, it looked like a typical gold or yellow. As Levi took a closer look from different angles under a light source, he couldn’t help but notice the way it glowed a bright green and was quick to fall back to a simple yellow. It did it too consistently though that Levi was sure it was not just a trick of the light."

Levi scrambles for a last minute Christmas present and Hange copes with being eight months pregnant.

Same verse as Rough Day, Sugar Rush and Household Planning.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: I know it isn't Christmas yet but I decided to drop some Levihan Christmas Fluff a little early. I wish you all a happy holiday!

When a new jewelry shop opened in a space adjacent to his favorite tea shop in Paradis, Levi was quick to notice it.

It never did catch his interest though. The hard life he had lived for roughly 40 years had him completely nonchalant at most significant developments. The opening of some ordinary jewelry shop was not at all a significant development that called any attention from the battle hardened soldier, even if it did attract a crowd for the first two months.

That was until Mr. Spasky the tea shop owner brought it up over a round of tea tasting. Levi had seen him exchange a few words with the jewelry shop owner before he would welcome Levi into his shop.  He had guessed that they had become fast friends through the excitement of their tones and the detail they looked too comfortable giving each other. The friendship between those two was something he had brushed away too easily though. Levi was too preoccupied by a cranky pregnant Hange and his own household projects to consider much of anything else.

One day, Mr. Spasky brought up one unfamiliar question which got Levi particularly confused.

“So what kind of engagement ring did you buy your woman?"

"Engagement ring? Woman?" Levi frowned in confusion. “I have a woman?”

“It’s the season of giving so maybe it would be a good time…” The shopkeeper winked.

Levi’s thoughts were elsewhere. Partner. That was the word. By the expression and the tone on Mr. Spasky’s face, Levi could at least tell, they had the traditional woman in mind. Of course they would, they’ve never met Hange.

Hange was definitely pregnant and had been glaringly pregnant for the past few months already. Was she being the traditional woman about it? Definitely not.

Levi only had to be reminded of why he even felt the need to correct Mr. Spasky when he got home from his quick trip to the tea shop that day to find Hange as usual, coping with her six month leave in a very unconventional manner.

It had been two months since he had emailed that letter to the queen and requested for a leave for Hange. And with how Hange looked, hunched up on a microscope with a broken rock next to the table, Levi could tell that she was still far from the acceptance stage.

In fact, she had been constantly scrambling for something to do since she had been put in a leave of absence in the first place. She was probably penultimate month of pregnancy according to the doctor and she was still fighting for control of her life.

The first week into the leave she would take long walks, long enough for Levi to feel the need to circle the perimeter of the block where their apartment was, only to end up pacing by the entrance of the house not wanting to relax until she got home. Even when she did arrive home, Levi found himself only getting more stressed by her little souvenirs.

She was like a cat. The big difference lay in the fact that while cats brought home dead rats and game, Hange would bring home different types of leaves, roots and other plant parts and leave them on the table next to the microscope she had set up on her desk.

“Shouldn’t you be doing other things?” Levi had asked as he watched Hange set up the microscope in their room in the wee hours of morning, when he was about to sleep.

“What other things? I’m on leave right?” Hange had too much venom on the word leave that Levi had to look away and remind himself that it was Historia after all who made the final say. So it’s her fault not mine. He would reassure himself, conveniently forgetting the fact that he did draft the letter. He didn’t reply to Hange’s implicit accusation, instead deciding to hide under the covers of his bed and stay there unmoving, even when it did take him an extra three hours to fall asleep.

By the second week, Levi could barely get a wink at night, too busy wondering what risk lay in a pregnant person studying such strange substances. Levi started to follow her surreptitiously as she went about the town, only to see that she had been getting them from a nearby public garden.

It wasn’t strange at all to see Hange digging through plants, roots and flowers. She had expressed her passion for botany on top of titans too many times to count.

But she’s pregnant. And that’s unsanitary as fuck. Hange being unsanitary as fuck wasn’t anything new though. Levi had known her long enough to accept it.

The circumstances then were different. For a while, Levi considered telling her off. He found himself in a state of panic a second later though completely forgetting that intention, as he realized that it wasn’t just unsanitary. A few inches away, a dog decided to pee on that same soil which Hange was digging through. Somehow that view was what helped him put three and two together to get five. Hange was desperately studying whatever green and brown she could find. And it was mixing with dog shit, cat shit and whatever else made their home in that little bush.  

Levi did not need to consult a doctor to know that it was potentially dangerous for a pregnant woman. He rushed back home, went to Hange’s desk and disposed of all the samples into a bag and threw it out into the dumpster before she could get home.

For the first time, Levi was grateful that Hange did go on such long walks. That gave Levi at least enough time to create a backstory for the sudden cleanliness of her desk and her missing samples. In a state of panic though and faced with the obstacle of limited time, Levi had come up with another idea, an idiotic one, completely unbelievable that it had little chance of working.

Levi was desperate though. Although he did have the reflexes on the battlefield to take down an enemy bent on killing him, scrambling to find a cover up story for a very pregnant and very unpredictable Hange Zoe was another story.

At that rate though, Hange must have been as crazy, desperate and idiotic as him a result of the pregnancy hormones and the stress of being in almost total isolation in a smaller part of town with little to no responsilities. Hange came home to see rocks lined up, in the stead of her previous samples, and continued on her mini research as if nothing had changed.  

They were less alarming test subjects at least. Levi had made sure to wash them thoroughly beforehand. They did not stink as much as the plants. And they had at least caught Hange’s interest enough that she did not ask too much about the missing plant samples, having brushed off the white lie of a bird stealing them.

Overtime, Levi eventually realized she never did believe the lie. She was too sharp for that. In fact, the reason she had accepted such a blatant lie in the first place was because the rocks on the table had turned out to be a more interesting subject. The hammers and nails became an ubiquitous part of her work desk. The meticulous side of Levi was also starting to begrudgingly notice the scratches on the table from the scrape of rock on wood.

From a coping mechanism of studying plants and greens, Hange had shifted to studying rocks. And as Levi started to realize over dinner, rocks were an incredibly boring topic, so boring that he almost missed hearing about photosynthesis and the difference of a xylem and a phloem.

Apparently, there were so many different types of rocks and the ones he had randomly picked out in the garden could have been igneous, hinting to the possibility of volcanic or seismic activity around the area. How she had gotten that from a bunch of random rocks, Levi did not know. She started talking about extracting metals from ores. And she had started to name the rocks too apparently: Gabbro, limestone, basalt. Hearing those names echo in his head, only made Levi miss the plants.

He started to particularly miss the plants a little more when the streets started to line with them, and the main square near their place was fitted with a large tree in the center, decorated with lights and bright balls. A surprising addition to his everyday view on the way to the tea shop.

Christmas. He never really did get used to it. A tradition brought from Marley apparently. With Hange's new obsession with rocks, the large tree in the middle of the square seemed almost nostalgic.

"So it looks like the Christmas tree can amaze even the most serious men," A voice said behind him.

The Christmas Tree was placed in the middle of the square where the tea shop was also conveniently located. And from his good view of the Christmas Tree in the middle, Levi was also a good few feet away from the shop. He only had to look behind him to see Mr. Spassky, having a smoke at the entrance.

That thoughtless comment was enough to make Levi look away from the tree faster than he had wanted to. He entered the tea shop with a Mr. Spassky trailing behind and the tea had helped him cope. By that point, he had almost completely forgotten the Christmas Tree in the middle of the square.

Like always, Mr. Spasky would place a cup of black tea and make conversation. “So what did you get her?”

It was Hange who had pointed out years ago that his birthday was on the same day as Christmas day. For Levi, it was a surprise since he had built a habit through the years of never giving days enough importance to analyze them beyond what was available at face value. At that moment, when the shopkeeper noted that Christmas Eve was that night, Levi could only spit out the tea. It was his birthday. It was almost Christmas. And he had spent too much time and energy keeping Hange sane to have even noticed.

Mr. Spassky was a great salesman and a great marketer. Levi at that moment was at the mercy of his complex emotions constantly flitting from the guilt of disposing of Hange’s samples to his overall exhausted state to the state of panic which would stop by for a visit every few hours, when he would ask the question of  what Hange could be doing back home at that exact moment.

If Levi had been any sharper that day, he probably would have figured it out as quickly as he had figured out the food campaigns of King Fritz years ago that Christmas was merely a seasonal marketing campaign to get people to buy more and that new tradition on giving engagement rings was a piece of all year long marketing tactic to keep the jewelry business alive.

At his most vulnerable though, Levi had become prey to those propaganda and the nagging feelings of guilt, only spread through him, getting stronger with every point they made. He and Hange had been living together for more than a year, Hell she was pregnant with their first child already.

And I never bothered to get her an engagement ring or a Christmas present?   For the first time since it opened, Levi was finally starting to see the value and novelty in that quaint jewelry shop next to the tea shop.

As Mr. Spassky guided him through the doors of the jewelry shop, Levi was quick to notice the different rings on display. What caught Levi’s eye in particular was the display case on the side of the room that sold shiny colored metals, similar to a cavern under a church Levi had visited so many years ago. On the walls were pictures and detailed drawings of couples exchanging rings, only highlighting the tradition Levi had noticed among other couples he had witnessed.

Is there really commitment if there’s no ring?

Is it really love if you don’t buy them anything for Christmas?

Every good romance starts with a ring.

Blatant propaganda. Yet strong and relevant enough for Levi to put enough thought into picking out a ring.

The one Levi had picked out was of a minimalist design. The color in particular though was what stood out. At first glance, it looked like a typical gold or yellow. As Levi took a closer look from different angles under a light source, he couldn’t help but notice the way it glowed a bright green and was quick to fall back to a simple yellow. It did it too consistently though that Levi was sure it was not just a trick of the light.

Green Gold. That was what it was called according to the shopkeeper as he held it up to the late much better than what Levi had done. From the different angles, Levi could see the gleam of gold and the tinge of green.

Levi did not need the confirmation of the color to decide to buy it. Maybe it was the characteristic cloak they would wear from so many years ago which made it such an obvious choice. Maybe it was the homesickness that came and went from living and fighting in an almost all green landscape almost their whole lives then being forced to move somewhere within the city that had pushed him to that. Maybe it was a combination of all that, only supplemented by the nostalgia that came with missing Hange’s obsession with trees.

It probably was the fact that the color green had been so ubiquitous the past two decades of his life. Seeing it as a faint yet beautiful glow had awakened emotions of sentimentality for a life he had lived long before.  

As Levi took in the scenery of the urban jungle which they had been living in for the past few years and the stark contrast to the green they had been fighting in for many more years, maybe he did start to understand her obsession with green. In fact, he did realize with his own impulse purchase, he was a tad fixated with the color green too.

He gripped his small gift bag a little tighter as he arrived at the entrance of the apartment they shared.

“Hange, Merry Christmas.” Levi was completely comfortable with Hange and he was completely aware of that. Yet, for that moment he needed to rehearse it, having occupied himself with whether to say Merry Christmas before or after handing her the present.

Hange returned the greeting with her own questioning look, which could have maybe even been judgmental. For some reason, that had made Levi blush. He looked away as soon as he gave it and went straight to the kitchen to cram the Christmas Eve dinner he had forgotten about.

He allowed himself a last look, only to see a smile creep up Hange’s lips as she opened the gift box. Levi found himself smiling in return, even if he knew she wouldn’t notice it with his back to her. It had been weeks since he had seen such excitement in those eyes as she smiled, that same excitement and enthusiasm he had seen as she recounted to him every development in Paradis. As he was cutting the tomatoes for their meal that night, he couldn’t help but think that that smile gave him the same sense of nostalgia as the color green.

Maybe she felt it too?

“It looks like I was right… I knew they’d put titanium here. It shouldn’t be this hard if there wasn’t any.”

Levi placed the newly cooked pasta on their dining table. Hange was on the living room table, with a lamp at full brightness, hunched over like she was working on something. Just like always, Hange was scratching the table below with a new stone

A shiny new stone…. “Is that the gift I bought you?” Levi asked.

“Yeah…”

There must have been a hint of accusation or anger in Levi’s voice. The face Hange had was reminiscent  to what one would see when a dog is caught chewing on something they aren’t supposed to. With the realization that what they had done is wrong, most dogs would usually chew faster. Hange had done the human equivalent, or more specifically, the pregnant Hange equivalent of breaking into it faster.

“It’s a ring Hange. You’re supposed to be wearing it!”

“But is it really important that I wear it? Isn’t it more important that we find out the secrets of how they make this?” It was an argument which could have convinced any other scientist. Levi was far from what could have been a good target audience.  

“Give me that!” Levi found himself wrestling or at least trying to wrestle someone while avoiding the baby bump which was taking up more than 50% of her waistline at that moment.

“It’s your gift to me Levi! To me! Let me use it like I want to!”

Hange made a good point. That good point and the prospect of wrestling someone who was eight months pregnant with his first child was what got Levi surrendering and just sitting on the sofa within minutes just listening to one of her lectures.

Hange once again scratched the sharp side of the already broken ring on the table then bit it, inadvertently causing Levi more pain for multiple reasons. “See, gold wouldn’t make a scratch like this. This is why it isn’t necessarily pure gold despite what’s written here,” Hange explained as she slid the flier closer to him. “ I’m guessing they used titanium here, similar to the metal they used for our blades and the ODM gear. Maybe even copper or iron?

“So it was a fake,” Levi said bitterly. It was the mention of such cheap metals making its way into such a beautiful object with such a unique shine to it. He felt like an idiot for actually believing it was something pure.”

“This is actually a good thing because if they did make something out of pure gold, it would scratch pretty fast. In fact, the other metals make it so that it lasts longer.”

“That was supposed to be a Christmas Gift,” Levi said, completely ignoring Hange’s explanation.

“It was a great Christmas gift. I’ve never seen this shade of gold in my life.” Hange said.

“Yeah, it was supposed to be an engagement gift too.” Levi managed to add before the blood rushed through his face, leaving him unable to speak for a few seconds.

“Engagement?”

“Mr. Spassky said that most people give a ring to someone when they want to spend the rest of their lives with them.” Levi did not know how he had managed to get that out.

“And you’re falling for that propaganda now? Levi, we’ve been living together for the past two years. We’ve done things. I’m pregnant with our first kid. We don’t need a piece of metal to prove anything.”

At that moment, Levi remembered his own mother who had raised him. She’s done things. She was pregnant with someone’s kid. Yet he had never met his father.

Then what do we have to prove it? Levi didn’t need to ask her. He felt it in how quickly the exasperation of a minute ago gradually morphed into a playful feeling that tickled his chest and the sudden urge to grab her from behind and feel her tummy. He felt it a second later as she put her hands on his and gripped his hands a little tighter. Just the way he had wanted it.

Hange lay back down on the sofa next to him and gave him one of the softest smiles. She started to yawn and lay her head on his. She had fallen asleep next to him multiple times before. At that moment, he appreciated it a little more. As battle hardened soldiers, they would have only ever fallen asleep next to someone they completely trusted. Then and there, pregnant and tired, Hange was at her most vulnerable.

Then what do we have to prove it? The fact that they knew each other inside and out. The commitment to make it work. Their trust in the other to do the same.

At that moment, they were both at their most vulnerable.

“Now that I think about it... I haven’t been able to buy you a birthday christmas present,” Hange said, her voice only getting softer as she buried her face into his shoulder. “Maybe if you let me go shopping downtown I would.”

“You know what would be the best Christmas birthday gift? You not accidentally killing our kid.”

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

One quick question, why do you hate Before the Storm? I actually really liked it. It could be because I'm a hopeless romantic, but I just want to see your opinions on it

Oh boy, where to even begin...? I cannot stand bts... it actually hurts my insides to think about how much I hate this game haha.

[note: yeah hi uhhh... this is long because of course it is, it's coming from me but listen, my feelings for this game are not nice and I have a lot to say so.... my bad]

One of the bigger reasons, though not the biggest, is Chloe... I'm not exactly a big fan of Chloe. At all. Not in the first game, nope. I understand that so many people love her and they have their reasons for that, that's fine, she's just a character who doesn't appeal to me. If anything, she pisses me off because I can see the foundation for such a compelling character, but it all gets thrown away for the sake of bullshit.

So then they plop bts in front of us with Chloe as the playable protagonist in a prequel story about her and Rachel Amber. This is an opportunity to expand on her character, to tie into the first season and make me feel more positive feelings about her character, to do what the first game failed to do..... and to be fair, they DO have a few of them sprinkled in... but then they're overshadowed by the garbage.

It's just... the ideas are there, and they're ideas that I like but they're executed so poorly. I want to like Chloe Price, I can see that there's something good here.

Like okay.... lemme do a thing:

Chloe Price. She's going through some serious shit after her dad dies. He died unexpectedly in a car accident, something Chloe had zero control over, it's not fair, and even though it's not like the universe singled her out and said "fuck you," it feels that way to her.

On top of that, her best friend who she adores? She moves away. Not something that's in either of their control, they're kids at this point. However, Max stops contacting her and that hurts Chloe. Chloe tries to stay in contact, but eventually Max stops responding.

Then you have her mother, who's also grieving after losing her husband and dealing with her daughter pushing her away and on the wrong path. She meets a man and falls for him after realizing she still has a long life ahead of her and that's too long to be miserable over her husband's death, William wouldn't want that, and David is a source of comfort for her... something she's not getting from her daughter. The problem is that David and Chloe don't get along in the slightest... which leads to Chloe feeling like her mom is trying to replace her father by moving on, not understanding why Joyce's timeline of grief isn't the same as hers, y'know?

Oh, and can't forget that Chloe has fallen onto a not so great path of drugs, booze, bad grades, lying, staying out late without letting her mom know where she is, pickin' fights, making friends with drug dealers, stealing money and other items, all that. She's bitter, angry, unable to understand most of her own complex emotions and that only makes her even more upset. She's unable to express them in a healthy way, she doesn't ask for help, and denies it whenever offered.

So... Chloe's starts out as an extremely entitled, rude, obnoxious character. She insults the bouncer in the cringiest way possible because these adult men writing her don't know how teen girls talk, she steals money and a t-shirt from a dude who works for the band because $20? how dare? even though bands don't make a lot of money and a lot of profit comes from their merch but who cares about supporting artists you like, right? Chloe sure doesn't. She probably buys some weed from Frank because yeah, she's got a dependence on the stuff now. She gets into a fight with a couple of dudes after spilling beer on them.... but what's this?

Oh look, it's Rachel Amber. Y'know, the pretty, popular, talented, smart, perfect, charismatic girl from Chloe's school?? yeah, she's at the concert and saves Chloe from the dicks who attacked her, and the two girls spend the rest of the concert together.

Now, for some reason, Chloe isn't sure but Rachel has taken a special interest in her. Rachel is flirty, she wants to know who Chloe is, she asks her to skip school with her, and the two take a ride on a train to a park and... honestly? pretty romantic, and it plays into that escapism fantasy thing of having the pretty girl who everyone likes single you out, making you feel special.

Over time, the girls grow close. Rachel has some family problems and seeks comfort in Chloe. They spend nights walking together down empty streets at night, holding hands. They hang out and talk about the stars, they discuss Shakespeare and what it's like to actually be your true self, if there's actually such a thing. They get tattoos together, and Rachel helps Chloe color her hair. They have a special hideout they decorated together in the junkyard. Rachel spends the night at Chloe's enough that she ends up leaving a lot of clothes there. They daydream about running away together, long road trips and living big in LA.

Chloe starts to see Rachel as her angel because for the first time since Max, she feels like she has someone she can be open and honest with. Rachel almost seems too perfect to be true, y'know?

And hey, over time Chloe actually starts to kinda get her life on the right track, if not in an unconventional way. Sure, she's still dealing with losing her father. that's not something she'll just get over... but she does start making an effort with her mom, and yes, even David after he told her about his time in the army and gave her that photo. They both know they'll never be friends, and they'll still have arguments, but they'll at least keep the peace for Joyce's sake.

It's not all perfect, though. Chloe's still smoking and Rachel isn't always the best influence. They get into trouble here and there, but nothing super serious.

She dropped out of Blackwell so that her mom didn't have to keep paying her tuition and because she's fixated on this fantasy of running away with Rachel. Chloe's feeling good about herself, about her future, for the first time since her dad died.

Until Rachel disappears.

And everything goes to shit pretty quick after that. Rachel's gone, she's not answering calls or texts, and everyone keeps saying that she probably ran away, but Chloe knows better. She knows Rachel wouldn't leave without her, so something must've happened. She makes posters and puts them everywhere, but things only get worse.

Money is tight. Joyce isn't making as much as she needs at the diner, David isn't making enough as a security guard, and hey... they might lose the house... the house that was once Williams, that's a piece of him he left behind. Not only that, but where will they go?

Chloe doesn't want them to lose the house, or for her mom to be this stressed out over food and bills. Chloe borrowed money from Frank in hopes of using it to run away with Rachel, but with her missing... Chloe decides to give it to her mom in order to save the house. Joyce is alarmed that she has this much, but Chloe manages to lie her way out of it to give her mom some peace of mind.

Except now she has another problem- she can't pay Frank back and he's getting more aggressive about it as the weeks go on. Rachel's still missing, Frank's breathing down her neck with threats toward her mom, money is still an issue at home, and she's not in a good place. Chloe's desperate enough to steal... so when she makes it into a bar that doesn't card her and she sees rich boy Nathan Prescott drunk off his ass and flashing bills, she thinks it'll be an easy score. It's wrong to do this, it's dangerous, but Chloe justifies it to herself. She needs that money.

She didn't expect Nathan to drug her drink, and she wakes up to him taking pictures of her. She manages to get the hell outta there, but she still has no idea what the hell happened to her. Like.... that reeeally fucks with her, it doesn't even feel real. She can't tell anyone, she can't tell her mom, and the police won't do anything since they're under the Prescott thumb.... and well, she decides to blackmail him.

And we all know how that goes.

So... we have the highs and lows of Chloe Price. She's flawed, even starting out as unbearable, but over time she becomes more nuanced and you're invested in what happens to her. You want to see her better herself, you want her to work through her grief and get help, you understand why she hates David but when you see him and Joyce happy together and him make an effort to be better, you want to see them make amends. You know David doesn't want to replace William, hell HE knows no one ever could.

You want Chloe to keep going, to find purpose in her life and realize her own potential. You saw her at the beginning when she was broken, when she was lost and didn't see a future for herself, and it's satisfying to see her come this far to where she knows she has a future... something that becomes all the more tragic when you remember her fate in the first game.

You're invested in Chloe and Rachel's romance, you get giddy watching them flirt and do dumb, romantic, cliche things, and you're just as compelled by Rachel as everyone else. No, she's not perfect, she's not a stereotype, she's much more layered than that and it only breaks your heart when you realize that she's killed later on, that of course she's going to go missing... you already know that! So you're watching Chloe, who has gotten pieces of her life back together and is genuinely happy.... fall back down the pit, fall back into the habits she had at the beginning, and you know it will lead to her downfall.

.....TOO BAD BEFORE THE STORM DID FUCK ALL WITH THAT RIGHT?

Nope, you don't get any of that. Well, except Chloe being cringy. You get a lot of that.

No, no, we got edgelord, flanderized Chloe who thinks her wit is much greater than it actually is, whose terrible moments outweigh the good, and who doesn't grow or change no matter what influence you try to have over her.

Rachel could be replaced with a literal barbie doll and little would change. She has no charm, she's nothing like what she was described in the first game, and she's just so fucking unlikable. When she finds out that her mom isn't actually her birth mom, she claims that her whole life is a lie and her parents aren't real and she wants to meet her druggie mom who chose drugs over her for 15 years because she's the one who actually squeezed her out.

Which, by the way, WHY is this the goddamn plot?? Why did they feel like they had to shove in this "oh hey Rachel's dad is the bad guy, oh wait now this drug guy is the bad guy because he stabby Rachel, no wait now her dad is the super bad guy because he put a hit out on Rachel's REAL mom, oh no wait it's fine because Frank murdered drug man off screen" WHY YOU DO THIS??

You have three episodes. THREE. And in those three episodes, you have the opportunity to explore Chloe as a character, and her relationships with Rachel, Joyce, and David. But instead of dedicating the story to that, something you could've created a compelling narrative out of, you threw in this dumb mom plot and fire-

HOW THE HELL DID I FORGET THE FIRE????

What- why did- does she have- Rachel just- RACHEL SETS THE FOREST ON FIRE??? WHY THOUGH???

I get it, "Rachel is the fire" yeah yeah and it's dumb.

Oh and because we didn't have enough going on, here's a side mission where you gotta deal with getting money from this other kid who's running drugs for big bad drug man because he wants to help his dad who lost his job.

But WAIT, there's more- In a series where several girls were drugged by Nathan and Jefferson, forced to pose for pictures, and some even killed or driven to try and take their own life? something taken so seriously...? Victoria gets drugged and it's treated like a joke. Even worse, there is a path that has Rachel drugging her, and no one cares.

ALSO.... Rachel cheated on Chloe with two adult men, remember? One of which fucking murders her?? and we're just... we're just not gonna do anything with that??? Nothing??? Maybe a little stinger at the end but that's it????

I just..... I hate this game so much.

It had so much potential. Not only that, but it had the first game to look at and learn from. Learn from the mistakes that game made and improve upon.... but instead, they fucked up even worse. It's just a game of fanservice that has way too much going on, is trying to do too much, and loses focus on the most important things.

Three episodes could've been enough to explore different points of Chloe's character before the events of the first game. They could've crafted a story that gave more insight into her life that make sense of the choices she made, that turn her into the Chloe we see in the first game. You don't need a forest fire, you don't need evil lawyers. I know the first game had the storm and time travel and big dumb Jefferson, but you wanted to tell a story that's grounded without shit like that... y'know, before the storm.

I could probably go on and on if someone doesn't stop me, so I'll stop myself here... I hate bts because it's potential was there, I could see it in a few key moments, and it was wasted.

The romantic ideas fall flat because being pretty and gay isn't enough for me, I need more than that. I don't care if they kiss because I don't care about their relationship, and frankly, they've done very little to make me care about them as individuals.

UGH

.......does that answer your quick question? haha sorry for the not so quick answer, but like I said, this game makes my brain mad and once I get going, it's hard to stop.

[slowlyreadinghouseofmirth]

Page 7

In truth, he had never liked her as well as at that moment -> Selden's affections here are plain to see, made so especially by subordinate clause 'in truth' which conveys an honesty and freshness about his feelings. Most importantly, he likes her when she is being her true self, unconventional, and willing to take risk. It's likely informed by his disillusion with high society and finding commonality in someone willing to disregard its etiquette. This is where Lily is unique.

There's also this sense that Selden likes Lily because she is impulsive and this sparks his curiosity to try and understand why she does the things she does-- understand Lily as a person.

He knew she had accepted without afterthought: -> This reaffirms Lily's lack of hesitancy, which alludes to how willing she is to be in Selden's company. It also shows how comfortable she is with him as she is aware of the rumours that could occur but never merits them with being a possibility, showing great trust.

Alternatively, being aware of the risks and having not afterthoughts could suggest that she doesn't fully understand the risks' depth and nuance as in future the situation at Monte Carlo would suggest, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

he could never be a factor in her calculations -> there's a colon that separates this clause from the previous one which suggests this is an explanation for Lily's certainty. To me this would point more towards Lily not really associating the risk of rumours with Selden because she trusts him so much. i.e she does not think of him when she thinks of the risks. But given that they are going up to his apartment it seems strange that Selden would not think himself a factor in her decision. It's therefore possible that he thinks that Lily does not think of him worthy of great consideration.

Also the noun 'calculations' would suggest a lot of thought had gone into the decision where it was previously implied it was one of impulse. This seems like Selden thinks that Lily is playing an intricate game, which further demonstrates his curiosity about her and need to understand her.

there was a surprise, a refreshment almost, in the spontenaity of her consent -> This further contrasts Selden's perception of Lily's 'calculations' and I think the narration is a fine weave between objective reality--where Lily is impulsive-- and Selden's subjective perceptions-- where Lily appears impulsive but there is something more complex informing her decisions. I think this is meant to show that Selden is blinded somewhat by his affections for Lily, seeing things deeper than what are there or what everybody else sees. Alternatively, we as the reader lack Selden's sight into the complexities of Lily and so she is introduced to us as other people see her, which isn't well at all, and we have to learn how Selden sees her. It's a challenge to care for Lily as he does.

The spontaneity invokes a light hearted and refreshing feeling of being in love which mirrors the honest of truth mentioned earlier.

So there's Selden's surprise at Lily being so spontaneous which draws back to a previous point about she is unique for being impulsive almost reckless. It's like we get a sense of her character and her environment from how the two are at odds with each other. Lily is impulsive; noone else of her class should be like that. In a way that makes her free from the system and yet shows her struggle against it but ultimately her struggle will be more defining.

She noticed the letters and notes heaped on the table -> I assume that this is a reference to future letters although I don't know if they would be the same ones. If they were, I don't even have the mental capacity to unpack that. Just the thought that Lily's fall is inevitable, that even when she is happy, having a nice time, an unknown omen lurks within the same room that will bring her sorrow... oh its symbolic, for sure. But I don't want to think about it.

Lily sank into one of the shabby leather chairs -> the verb 'sank' shows how at home Lily really is with this kind of surroundings, how the shabby whilst not fashionable or expensive, is comfortable. From this we and the the pile of letters we get an image of a a slightly disorderly but well-lived in home. This is one of the tragedies where we see the possibility of what her future with Selden could look like where it is unconventional but Lily is comfortable at home even with it.

"How delicious to have a place like this all to oneself! What a miserable thing it is to be a woman," -> I love Lily's exaggerated turns of phrases like 'delicious' and the exclamations; I think Wharton's emphasis on these exaggerations is to capture Lily's innocence through her speech by making it similar to that of a child who is easily excitable.

Again with the exaggeration but this time with 'miserable', we get the sense that Lily has found the world difficult as a woman to live in but miserable seems too strong of a word, certainly at this stage in the book and is sort of hidden within her other hyperbolised expressions. Maybe this creates a kind of cry-wolf situation where, when Lily properly starts to struggle, people don't take notice not only because it wasn't the done thing to do to talk about struggles but also because of her melodramatic personality, everyone thought the same stuff was happening as it had before and Lily was making a big fuss over nothing.

There is repetition of 'miserable' in association to being of female sex further down the page which is another example of Lily's melodrama. But at this point we as a modern audience start to question if she is actually alright (or at least I did). I'm not sure if a contempary audience if the time would have given the strict taboo over discussing any kind of struggle financial/physical health etc. let alone the discussion of mental health. From the impression I get of the time, the only real source of outlet for people struggling with mental health beyond self medication was art, which makes me wonder as to the position Wharton is writing this from.

she leaned back in a luxury of discontent -> The juxtaposition of 'luxury' and 'discontent' raises an important theme that wealth does not equate happiness and that Lily is not happy as a socialite but happy in the company of Selden, and that actually money is the source of Lily's unhappiness. In this specific context, she is lamenting her lack of freedom to live the lifestyle that Selden does.

"Even women," he said "Have been know to enjoy the privaledges of a flat." -> Putting the discourse marker directly after the subject of 'women' breaks it apart from the rest of the sentence and emphasises the extraordinariness of women being able to live independently. But it also raises the possibility of it and suggests that Selden thinks Lily is extraordinary and unconventional enough to achieve the possibility if she chose to.

"Oh governesses– or widows. But not girls– not poor, miserable, marriageable girls!" -> Again we have the breakdown of womanhood into distinct classes like governess, widows, and girls,which creates the idea that there's no intersections between any of them and is a reflection of of societies fixation for categorisation which loses sight the complexity of situations and problems. And it also makes it easier to place social stigmas like those on governesses and widows. Those stigmas are made apparent here but in contrast to how Lily describes girls, being a governess or a widow seems desirable.

In the list of adjectives 'poor, miserable, marriageable', marriageable is equated to these other adjectives and we see that Lily associates marriage with a poverty of kind, of the heart.

It's also interesting that Lily talks about herself as a girl where Selden speaks of her as a woman. Lily plays up her innocence as she has probably been taught to to make desirable marital match, but with that Lily carries around an air of immaturity and naïvity; she's still very child-like. Perhaps that's a part of her that's trying to cling to her youth so she doesn't have to face her future where she will need to marry to survive. Lily sees her adulthood as a constraint on her and her desires whereas Selden sees her potential.

"you mean Gerty Farish," she smiled a little unkindly. "But I said marriageable–" -> Okay so definitely a little tone deaf on Lily's part buts she's honest to a fault and her honesty is refreshing and entertaining.

I'm no expect on autism and don't claim to be but there's something about Lily's mannerisms here that reminds me of people who I know and am very close with who are autistic. And it makes me wonder if Lily was autistic and neurodivergence was recognised in her time if her fate would have been any different.

"Her cook does the washing and her food tastes if soup. I should hate that you know." -> I just love the imagery of the first sentence, it strikes my funnybone. I guess it also illustrates that Lily's privileged upbringing if she thinks this is a bad situation to live in.

Okay I'm going to bring in a bit of a technical term to describe the verb 'should'. So it's a modal verb (expressing possibility based on context) but specifically a deontic modal verbal, meaning that Lily's hate depends on social rules. When she says she should hate it it implies that society wants her to hate it but she wouldn't necessarily hate it. That's what that verb phrase implies in today's english, but language has changed since the time it was written so it may not have been written with this meaning, especially as a signifier of an older text is the use of modal verbs in places we wouldn't today and a lot more of them.

The shift from Selden's reflections to the quick dialogue and short simple sentences of action creates a lively and charged atmosphere that feels almost flirtatious in its rhythm but by the nature of the content is more domestic (preparing afternoon tea). The balanced turn taking feels comfortable in that they both have equal power in the conversation, being allowed to say what they want to and being listened to. It goes towards simulating what a possible future could be and also shows how happy they are in this moment.

[alliterative-albatross]

So, I sent you (@disgruntledspacedad) a pretty long ask a while ago (back when you had anon on) and I'm decently sure Tumblr ate it (or maybe you ignored it, in which case, feel free to ignore this one as well). But then I saw one of those "writers appreciate feedback no matter how long" posts, so I'm back here. Here is my mediocre attempt to rewrite my original review of your work. Bear in mind that English is not my first language, so if at any point my phrasing sounds weird to you, you know why. Mandatory disclaimer/apology: this might get a little too long 😅

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

I remember being SO mad at myself for not finding this sooner. I binge read it one afternoon with no thoughts for any real life responsibilities I might have had (and no regrets). Javiears is one hell of an unconventional relationship in the beginning, and I really love what you did with them. The whole premise of your story is quite refreshing, and you somehow manage to convey the trust and mutual respect there two feel for one another without explicitly showing us the beginning of their "entanglement".

Also, fuck you for what you did to poor Emilio, that man was a saint and he deserved better! I honestly can't believe that I got so attached to a character that appeared so little in the story, but it happened, and his death kind of broke my heart.

But the Javiears reunion + mild confession was lovely, and felt completely deserved. And of course the sex scene. I won't lie, I expected a bit better from Javi there, but I did like how utterly /human/ it was. Capturing that humanity, the imperfections in each character is something you're really good at (more on that later).

AFTERSHOCKS

Ah, my emotionally constipated babies who really need to work out their communication issues. I do love them, though. And this short series did a really good job of delving a bit deeper into Ears's and Javi's psyche. Kudos to you for dealing with the medical "aftershocks" of living through an explosion AND using that experience to move your emotional plot forward. These two need to grow a lot before they can get to a stable point in their relationship, and you really manage to convey their insecurity and fear of commitment/intimacy while making it clear that they're in it for the long run and that theirs is a relationship that WILL work out so help them God.

IF I FALL

Ouch. Punch me in the gut while you're at it, why don't you?

But seriously, "If I Fall" is SO FUCKING GOOD. Don't get me wrong, it's angstier than an image of Jesus on the cross (don't judge me, it's Holy Week and I just got home from accompanying my grandma to church), but it somehow works beautifully. You, my dear, play heartstrings like they're a fucking guitar and I AM HERE FOR IT.

You're doing an amazing job at making me feel everything these characters are feeling, which is both awful (bc pain) and impressive.

Also, if anything happens to Ana I will cry, because she is adorable and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also, if anything happens to Ears I will cry, because she is badass and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also also, if anything happens to Javi I will cry, because he is loving and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Basically, I am really invested in the well-being of these characters and can't wait until they're happy and safe again (please tell me they will be, my heart can't handle much more pain).

A quick note on the angst complaints: yes, this story is way angstier than most other fics out there and it can be a bit too much at times, especially considering how many chapters of pain it's been. BUT it's obvious that "If I Fall" NEEDS this amount of angst to get where it's going, to send the message it wants to and to properly develop its characters. The pain is as important to this story as flour is to bread. You may not like eating flour on its own (I don't think anyone does), but you love bread (because bread is amazing) and you must recognize that bread NEEDS flour to work. It wouldn't be bread otherwise. And eating the flour as part of the bread even makes you like the flour because the bread is just DELICIOUS.

I fully understand and sympathize with the people who have elected to table "If I Fall" until it's completed so they can binge read it knowing there's a happy ending in sight, but in case you're feeling a bit self conscious about all the angst, please know that your story is beautiful not in spite of the pain, but rather /because of it/.

PS: No, I'm not high/drunk, I just really like bread

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Silly thing to comment on, I know, but I do feel like it's important that you know how useful your ANs have been. There are many details in the story that I simply wouldn't fully get without reading your comments at the end of each chapter, and I appreciate your writing a hell of a lot more knowing how deeply you understand and care for each one of your characters. Plus, it is obvious how much work you've put into researching a country and a time period that are (from what I gather) unfamiliar to you, and I really do believe you've done an amazing job of it.

JAVIER PEÑA

My boy. I love your characterization of this complicated character, and I have eagerly read each and every one of your headcanons about him. I can't really say if your version is fully faithful to the source material because it's been a while since I saw Narcos, but your Javi most definitely reads like a real person. He's fairly consistent as a character, and I feel like everything he does is perfectly natural for him to do as a character. He makes for an unconventional yet deeply interesting romantic lead, and so far I have thoroughly enjoyed all his POV chapters/scenes.

OCs

I know you've gotten some flack for making her into an OC halfway into the story, and while I get why the sudden change may have felt like a disappointment for some, I don't share that sentiment. I firmly believe that this fandom is unfairly harsh towards Original Characters and their creators, and I don't really understand why. Listen, I love Reader fics, and consume many Reader fics. I have read dozens, maybe even hundreds, and I can safely say that I've only ever "inserted" myself in approximately 10% of those stories. Reader characters are not as blank as their writers may want them to be. They can't be. They're characters, and character have personalities and moral values and senses of humor and a bunch of other things. Reader characters may not have a backstory or a physical description attached (and even that's not guaranteed), but they're still characters.

And on a more personal note, pretending they're actual blank slates is naive at best and insensitive at worst. Reader characters are American coded 99% of the time, and white coded 95% of the time. Not every readers is white nor American, even if that's the predominant demographic on Tumblr. When I read a JavixReader fic about a woman who speaks exactly zero Spanish, I know she's not me. The story may be beautifully written and have an amazing plot and character development, but the Reader *isn't me*. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, and some of my favorite xReader stories feature a "reader" who couldn't be more different from me, but it's something that enemies of OC fics should take into account. Particularly if they are white and/or American. But I digress.

HANNAH AARONS

Your character is amazing. She's strong, smart, confident, independent and an all-around badass. She gets kidnapped while pregnant and still focuses on problem solving and survival. But she's also overly guarded and mistrustful, and really needs to work on her communication skills. There are times when I absolutely love her and even admire her, and other times when I want to whack her with a slipper. She's no Mary Sue, but remains interesting and likeable throughout the story. She feels wholly human and real, and that's no easy task. I like her, I am invested in her, and I can't wait to see what's next for her. She's a compelling and three dimensional protagonist in a complex story who never fails to draw me in. I love her. She's your baby, and you should be proud of her.

Also, quick question about personality types: I know you've typed Javi as ESFP and Ears as ENTP (100% agree on both, btw), but have you given any thought to their enneagram types? I personally have always seen Ears as being somewhere on the thinking triad, maybe a 7 or even a 6w7, but I'm not too sure about Javi. 9w8 maybe? He could also be a 6w5 🤔

PARTING THOUGHTS

Basically, I love your story, your characters and your writing in general. You are a fantastic storyteller and wordsmith. You get into the heads of incredibly different characters personality-wise (Ears, Javi, Berna...) and manage to capture all of their complexities and quirks every single time. And it doesn't feel like it's something innate for you either. To me, it seems that you have put a lot of work and effort into understanding each and every one of your characters, who they are, why they do what they do and what they want. And let me tell you, all that effort has been more than worth it. "Better Love" is a fanfic, but it wouldn't be out of place in a regular bookstore, if I'm honest. I don't know what you do for a living or if you've ever considered writing professionally, but you clearly have the skills and the drive to create some masterpieces.

You are amazing and your writing is a gift. Thank you for sharing it with us, and have a nice day! ~ 🍪

~

My friend, I apologize for hoarding your first ask. I’ve been sitting on it because I’m not gonna lie, I enjoy going back and rereading it. It gave me a lot of comfort when I was in a pretty dark place, both personally and in regards to my writing, and I was reluctant to send it out into the the abyss of Tumblr where I might never see it again. 

That’s not fair, though. You put just as much effort into sending me that review as I put into my writing, and I apologize for never responding to you.

Okay, anyway, so twice now, you’ve made me cry. In a good way, I promise! 

I absolutely love your bread/flour metaphor. It made perfect sense. I want the emotional release of Javi and Hannah’s reunion to be earned, and in order to do that, the angst has to come first (there are also a few plot “ingredients” that have yet to make their appearances). Thank you very much for understanding that, and for voicing it so eloquently.

I appreciate your comments on my research and characterization. You’re correct that I’ve put a lot of time and effort into crafting a universe. In a lot of ways, I’m doing my best to stay true to the source material (regarding culture and timelines in particular), and in others, I’m branching into my own territory. 

On that note, I’ve never once regretted fully embracing Hannah Aarons’ identity as an OC. She’s stayed consistent in my mind from the beginning, and it was a relief to finally share my vision of her with the audience. And for the record, I totally agree with you regarding “reader” characters. Every reader insert echoes the perspective of their author, no matter how vague the physical description. I can only imagine how grating that must be from the perspective of a non-white, non-american reader. Thank you so much for sharing your insight! I will certainly keep it in mind the next time I write a “reader insert” fic.

Okay, enneagrams! I am much less familiar with enneagram than I am MBTI, but I agree 110% that Javi is a 9 with a strong 8 wing. I waffled back and forth on Ears a little, but eventually landed on 8w7 for her. It came down to the eight’s deepest fear, which is being controlled. That’s Ears all over, and the fact that she and Javi share that eight willfulness means that they might butt heads a little, which also seems very appropriate for them. Big thanks to @remusstark for her insight into the eight frame of mind - our conversations helped solidify my decision on this. :)

Anyway, I’m just rambling now. The big take-away point that I want you to get is that I am so, so grateful to you, both for your insightful feedback and your dedication in making sure that I actually saw it. You are an absolute gem and a deep thinker, Cookie-Anon, and if you ever feel like sliding into my DM’s, I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know you better.

Mad love and soft hugs, 

~ Jay

[sepublic]

As much as I like to joke around about Luz ‘That’s what friends do’ Blight Clawthorne Noceda, I actually kind of like the moment, because… Luz’s own obliviousness aside, I think she doesn’t want to overstep her boundaries? She respects Amity’s privacy in Lost in Language, not wanting to read her diary; It just makes a lot of sense that even if Luz DID know of her crush on Amity and suspected vice-versa, she’d want to wait until Amity was actually comfortable with affirming this sort of thing? Or at the very least, let Amity choose when to ask on her own terms… To let Amity find the courage to vouch for herself! In other words, I initially got the vibes that Luz was intentionally leaving the term ‘friends’ open-ended, for Amity herself to decide.

In general, I think another reason why Luz was so excited about becoming friends with Amity after Covention, was because she saw how clearly unhappy and pressured Amity was; And while she didn’t have indisputable proof until Understanding Willow, Luz (who knows not to ask a heavy question about one’s parents like that) relates to the idea of feeling like you’re not what you’re supposedto be… That one isn’t good enough! And I think part of why Luz wants to be Amity’s friend, besides an unrealized crush or her own Azura fantasies, is simply because Luz finds joy in making other people happy! She’s seen that Amity is unhappy; So why not cheer her up by becoming a friend?

On a side-note, while I have mentioned before that it’s sweet that Amity is trusting Luz as an indicator for how ‘worthy’ she is of love… Ultimately, this stage is just a stepping stone for Amity’s development; Because she still needs to learn to vouch for herself, and believe in her own self-evaluation whenever it says that Amity is a good person! It’s important that she trusts Luz, but again; Trusting someone else to say whether or not she’s ‘worthy’ is not unusual for Amity. She’s made progress by choosing who she places that trust in, but by the end of the day, she’s gotta learn to not rely on another person’s opinion; That if Amity says she’s a good person, then that’s a credible source on its own!

When Amity is interrupted by Grom as she admits that she should’ve fought her own battles… I have to wonder if she was going to say that she should’ve fought for Luz, just as she did for Willow in the previous episode! Because to Amity, Luz has already done so much for her, without asking anything in return; To Amity, part of why she’s so concerned to see Luz fight Grom, is because she feels like she needs to return the favor someday! That Luz has done so much for her, made her so happy… That for a change, Amity wants to not hurt someone else and make THEM feel better, and wants to make LUZ happy- Not just because it’s fair, but because seeing a happy Luz is pure serotonin for Amity! She IS in love after all.

Not only that, but I wonder if Amity was also going to say that she needed to fight for herself? I’ve analyzed before that Amity is always willing to fight for the sake of someone else, be it her parents’ approval, and later Willow’s happiness… I’m starting to wonder if she’s become self-aware enough, to realize that Amity herself hasn’t exactly fought on her own behalf? That by having Luz fight Grom and rescuing her, Amity is ultimately distracting herself from what she needs, with what she wants, by changing the situation from fighting for Luz, rather than herself- And it’s easy for Amity to deflect that personal responsibility and self-care by turning it into serving another person’s interests!

But at the same time; I can see why Amity didn’t want to fight Grom. Besides all of the OBVIOUS reasons, there’s also her parents; Can you imagine if Grom manifested as her abusive parents, in front of the entire school? Can you imagine the correct rumors that would come about, of the Blight Parents being abusive, that their own daughter doesn’t feel safe around them- And how that might affect public perception of the Blight family? The ensuing fallout and scandal would be terrifying for Amity… Her parents would be incensed at her for ruining their reputation, while also angered that she regards them as terrifying (even if that was exactly what they wanted- They’re abusers, they rely more on cruel emotion than consistent logic). And when Amity realizes that her REAL fear is rejection from Luz, and having others see that…

Again- Blights only associate with the strongest of witches. Her parents would NOT approve, they’d likely learn of Amity’s friendship and love for Luz- And they’d obviously try to do something about it, as they did with Willow! I think Amity wasn’t just protecting herself by not wanting to face Grom, I think she was also protecting Luz by extension as well! I can see Amity being relieved because at least if her fear is Luz, she won’t invoke the wrath of her parents… But also she’s terrified, because LUZ may be in danger because of Amity’s own feelings!

(Luckily for us, Grom is an… unconventional ally. He won’t out a victim, at least, if it means THAT much to them.)

…Going back to Luz, who is also aware of what Amity’s parents are like; I have to wonder if part of her initial fears about being too ‘weak’ and ‘inadequate’ weren’t just something she made up on the spot, to avoid her REAL terror… I think Luz was also legitimately afraid of not being strong enough. Not because she’s afraid of losing Eda’s approval, she trusts Eda too much… But Luz is afraid she won’t be strong enough for Amity, that if she’s too weak her parents will prevent them from being friends; And then Amity will be all alone and sad again! Luz mentions Eda saying she’s weak as a fear, only because she trusts Eda as a judge for who’s a ‘strong’ witch, what with Eda being the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles. If Eda says she’s not strong, then Luz isn’t strong; And that means she’s too weak for Amity!

In a way, one of her fears (albeit not her worst one) is not being good enough for Amity and letting her down… and not just Amity, but her other friends too no less! Of course she prioritizes Amity’s approval most, but you get the idea; Luz is ALSO invested in what she can do for others. Unlike Amity however, this investment is of her own choosing, because Luz legitimately doesn’t want to see others unhappy after knowing what it’s like to be alone and sad herself!

[bonny-kookoo]

Nightlight (PJM x Reader) 💜☁️⚠️🔞👹  Chapter 1

Pairing: Demon!Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Demon!AU, Angst, Possibly triggering content, Fluff/Romance, smut

Warnings: graphic description of violence, panic attacks, graphic description of certain fears and phobias, nightmares, blood, insects, accidents, death, it’s kinda messed up really, mild stalking, demon jimminie be kinda creepy ngl, confused jimin, intercourse with a demon (duh), restriction of movement, sleep paralysis, slight somnophilia, big dick!Jimin but wbk, marking, biting, scratching, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Reader, y’all I’m gonna go to hell for this smh, more to add as the story progresses

Summary: The nightlight he once gave you with a smile always kept the nightly terrors of his pale and lifeless face at bay, giving you at least mild comfort in a time spend without his soothing touch. But when you’re admitted to the hospital due to an accident, there is no light to keep your thoughts safe from terror. Luckily for you, the demon responsible for your vacation between hand sanitizer and itchy sheets actually feels bad for once; and decides to help you out.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part ?

Watching the clock tick away as every second passed didn't seem like a good hobby- yet it had become your main source of distraction nowadays.

Every moment you'd look at the clock, eyes focused on the small pointer going round after round was a reminder that the world didn't stop spinning even for a moment. That the world didn't care about someone's misery or happiness.

At his funeral, the sun had been shining too. The weather had been disgustingly nice, making birds sing their songs of gratitude in their trees, and children run in their home's yards, laughing away, unknowing of the tragedy that befell you and him. You remembered how hot it had been, how angry you've been- how could the world just continue on without any form of sadness for him?

He wasn't supposed to die so soon. You both just moved in together into a small apartment he'd rented after his work had given him a promotion, talked about maybe adopting a cat together, and started to think about settling down. Yet destiny had been cruel, taking him away from you just because it could. It had been two horrible changes of seasons since the day you had to watch him get buried six foot deep.

And you haven't been the same since.

Barely talking at all, simply existing as you buried yourself under the covers of your once shared bed, desperately trying to hold onto every scent, every trace that he'd been alive, but soon enough his body was just a mere memory, fading away like the scent on his shirts you wore at night to keep you sane.

The nightlight he'd bought you to help you with your insomnia and nightly terrors helped you a little- it felt like a small glimpse of hope in the corner of your room, no matter how childish it may seemed to the people around you. You'd long cut ties with former friends anyways, not wanting to be seen by anyone anymore.

You just wanted to be left alone.

Tiredly walking towards the stairs to get yourself a glass of water, you failed to notice the figure standing in your kitchen, eyeing the furniture and unwashed dishes in the sink with not much interest. He studied your form, pale and sad, as you simply shoved the ceramic plates a bit to make space so you could fill your glass up, uncaring of anything.

He was interested.

Humans like you, so broken and consumed by tragedy most of the time had the most delicious dreams he could think of- the deeply scarring emotions drowning your soul in heart wrenching thoughts and visions. He truly loved these- even though he preferred dreams of fear and terror.

As he followed you upstairs, silently, something inside him made him raise his eyebrow. He stopped at your bedroom door, hesitant, as if something was holding him back. Memories of a young couple playfully fighting played in front of him, two lovers falling into the bed, getting tangled in the sheets with feelings of euphoria- and he suddenly found himself at your bedside, watching you.

Your eyes suddenly opened, as you saw a figure looming over you, dark and menacing, its presence making the room feel stuffy and tight, as you could only watch, not move. Your body was frozen, not reacting to anything you told it, as the figure stepped closer, hands slowly creeping around your neck, increasing pressure as you heard it sigh out in pleasure. You could feel your fingers start to tingle, oxygen unable to enter your lungs, before you could suddenly breath again.

The figure yelped as if burned, falling back and pushing down the clock from your bedside table, breaking the glass front of it. You finally got up, scrambling out of bed in a hurry, tripping over your charging cable for your phone, before you stared at the shadowy figure in your room, breathing heavily.

It was hunched over, gasping for air itself as you slowly found a speck of pity in your heart, making you reach out your hand, as if to prove yourself that it was real.

Everything after was a blur, scenes happening too quickly to comprehend them properly inside your head.

A Hand pushed against your chest, the body moving, forcing you to walk backwards until he pushed with another boost of force- successfully making the glass of your window shatter, your body flying out of it, right into the rosebushes beneath your window, planted by your landlady to 'brighten up the visual appearance of the complex'.

The only thing you remembered after that was the pain and the shadow, making you close your eyes.

"Miss, are you awake?" The nurse asked, soft voice making you open your eyes. "Welcome back miss. You took quite the fall. Good thing someone found you." She said, checking your vitals as you simply stared ahead.

You weren't dead.

It should be something good, it should please you to know that you survived, but instead, it made your mouth taste stale, and your throat clog up. The nurse carried on, leaving the room after a moment. You knew she didn't care. She was only doing her job.

A look to the side told you that it was late- only some lights of other rooms of the hospital lighting up the outside, curtains pulled shut. It was dark in your room.

Too dark.

Your breathing increased as the shadows started to morph into heads, animals, and monsters; anything your mind could come up with. You could feel the bile raising in your throat, sour taste on your tongue making you swallow desperately, head whipping from left to right to find something to light the room up, but finding nothing. Your whimpers seemed to echo inside the room, making you feel awfully pathetic as you could only watch as the monsters- dissipated?

They vanished as a gentle glow flooded the room, originating from a figure behind the hospital curtains, shadow showing a seemingly male figure clad in unknown robes. You swallowed.

"Ah, the daughter of eve fears the dark?" He sing-songed, almost mockingly as the curtains moved a bit with the fresh air flowing into the room. You stared at him or more like his silhouette, as you whispered in a wavering voice.

"What are you?"

He chuckled, a breathy sound that didn't feel threatening. "Ah, she is smart however. She knows I am of a different kind." He said, voice low and rumbly, yet with an almost feminine tune to it. It reminded you of your lover, in a sense- yet his voice sounded nothing like his at the same time. "I am the fourth son of Rosier, a former Angel now residing in what you humans call hell." He stated, as if he was simply telling you how nice the weather would be tomorrow. So if he was the son of a fallen angel, was he-

"So you're.. a demon?" You asked, voice still almost only a whisper. He chuckled at your voice.

"Not quite, but it serves as a good definition for your kind. My heritage is quite.. difficult to explain, I'll admit." He mumbled, moving his head a little to the side. You couldn't make out his features at all, the only thing serving as a hint to his physique being the light accentuating his shadow.

"Why.. why are you here?" You asked, and he moved his arms a little, the sound of fabric moving the only noise for a moment.

"Ah, you really are smart. I usually hear the question of what I desire from someone- yet there is not really anything a human could offer to me I could have use of." He said with a humored undertone. He continued as you stayed silent. "I believe there has been an.. incident that should not have happened, and I am the one at fault."

"So you came to.. apologize?"

He clapped his hands, making you jump a little. "My my, why do you sound so surprised?" He asked, voice growing a bit more hostile. "I am not an angel full of itself because of its purity. My kind may be known to be quite tumultuous and.. unconventional, yet we do have our standards and pride." He said, leaning against the wall next to the window.

"I see." You simply said, and he didn't answer for a moment. You felt like you were being watched, observed even. You cleared your throat before asking. "Why.. why did you, you know.. throw me?"

He sighed. "I was not born with a body like your kind is. I have to.. lend or take one for myself." He said, and you nodded, unknowing if he could see you properly. It seemed like he did, because he took your gesture as a silent way of telling him to continue. "I have only recently acquired this body. For your standards of time, at least.Your planet spins faster in a year than my own world would consider a full change of seasons." He said.

"So you.. know what happened to him? Like.. the body's actual owner, I mean."

Running a hand through his hair, he answered you, though with mild hesitation in his tone. “Sometimes.. memories remain. What we do with them is up to us.” He said lowly, his voice so familiar, yet also nothing like a voice you’ve heard before in your lifetime. "He left this world with quite a dramatic final, I admit. I do not know details, however. He is.. keeping them from me. Which is fair, considering I did take without asking." Whoever was hiding behind those hospital curtains made your head spin in confusion, as you tried to pin point what exactly was happening.

There was a demon in your hospital room. Not only that, but this demon was drowning the entire room in a soft and gentle glow, prohibiting the natural shadows of all the furniture and items placed on their respective spots to turn into terrifying monsters ready to haunt your time of rest and healing. But for some reason his presence made your blood flow calmly in your veins, soft noises from the opened window making your eyelids close.

You could feel him come closer, notice how the mattress dipped a bit where he leaned to loom over you. “Rest. I’ll keep them away from you.” He murmured, a cool hand touching your forehead as you drifted off, not being able to catch the confused and frustrated face of the demon who was watching you.

How strong must this man have felt for you if even after his death he harbored those emotions inside those veins he’d decided to possess and claim as his own? His soul has long left this body, yet it seemed like pieces of him still remained, forcing its claws between his will, and leading him down a path he'd rather not take.

Sitting on a bench, only light a streetlamp illuminating the park around you, you finally felt alone. It may sound like this should be an upsetting feeling, but after a week of constant hovering of others, nurses and patients alike, it finally felt like you could breathe again. That was, until you felt a presence behind you.

"Do not lift your gaze." He said, as he walked around the bench to sit beside you, the only visible thing now his shoes up to his thighs, decorative and expensive robes in silvery and dark colors, accentuated with thin golden patterns. You admittedly expected something more.. cliche. Like a black suit, maybe. "You have yet to recover fully." He murmured, crossing his legs before resting his arms on the backrest of the bench. "Why did you leave?" He questioned, referring to your decision to leave the hospital against doctors advice.

You fiddled with your fingers, before sighing. "I couldn't take the lies and masks around me." You said, and he hummed.

"Ah, yes." he chuckled before he continued. "That nurse was quite.. envious of your bodily features, I've noticed. And one of the male patients had been quite fond of you as well." He said, and you raised your eyebrows, scoffing. He looked down at you, amused. "What? My kind cannot lie, if it makes my words more trustful for you." He said, and you chuckled.

"Well.." You started, before stretching your legs a little bit in front of you. "I'm not much to look at." You said, and he clicked his tongue.

"Hm.. Who is speaking untruthful now?" He said with humor in his tone. "You are quite visually pleasing to look at, if I may say so. I cannot imagine what you may look like without the draining burden of sorrow and hurt." He spoke, a hand carefully tracing a stray strand of hair, before you chuckled. The sound was good, he decided. He would make you laugh more.

"Thank you." You said, and he simply hummed a reply.

It was quiet for a moment, before you told him your name. He, again, only hummed a wordless reply.

"I'm afraid I cannot give you mine in exchange." He said, and you nodded, understanding.

You didn't need it anyways.

He slowly started to become a regular guest at your home. You had started to move away your lover's things as summer passed outside your windows, trying to mend your broken self together piece by piece with the Demon's help here and there. He distracted you when things got overwhelming, spending time with you and keeping you in touch with the world outside your walls. You had also started to work again. A simple job at a restaurant, washing dishes, nothing special. But it paid the bills, and it gave you something to do during the day.

A distraction, if you will.

This time when you came home however, his eyes widened at how you immediately fell to your knees, crying desperate tears into your hands. He didn't ask what happened, simply walking over to you, putting a hand on your head- a gesture he'd learned during his time with humans, a simple touch that was meant to bring comfort. Yet it also helped him to look into your thoughts, and see the situation that had occurred during your day at work, making his blood buzz inside his veins.

He could see how you were working, not participating in the chatter of the cooks and waitresses around you, until they started to make fun of you. Calling you names, laughing about your job, your clothing, your stand in society he guessed. It all went as far as to the simple moment a waitress let a plate fall, giggling at your desperate try to catch it before it could hit the floor. She did it again and again, plate after plate, until a chef made her stop, chuckling himself as he led her away, leaving you to clean up the mess, and deal with the harsh words of your boss that night.

Carrying you upstairs he laid you down on your bed, pulling the sheets over your body before vanishing in a simply cloud of black smoke.

Oh, this would be fun.

He was getting quite hungry anyways.

He watched from afar, as the waitress in question walked past her bedroom window before shutting down the lights, most likely preparing for sleep. That was his moment.

Fear was an interesting thing to him. Not only because he fed off of it like most Demons did, but because he loved how fears told him almost everything he needed to know about a specific person. The simple instinct that tormented humans during their time of rest told him stories of their deepest desires and secrets-giving him all the power he needed to rule over them during the night.

But this time, he didn't care about that.

He'd observed her already, knowing how narcissistic she was. The small vanity full of expensive makeup showed him her insecurity of her visual image towards others- a truly childish fear in his opinion. Yet it did give him enough to play with already.

Diving into her sleep, she didn't notice his intentions at all, simply watching him as he'd sat down in the corner of her room, casually lounging in her chair placed on that spot. She smirked, as if he was her property, and he smiled back, yet with a vicious intend behind his eyes, hidden from her sight, her instincts clouded by her own desires. "Ah, jesus, haven't had a dream like that in a while." She said, getting up to sit on his lap, making him smirk at her. He knew the effect he had on humans- the body he'd chosen quite attractive already, yet his own natural aura enhanced its beauty even more, giving him a tempting charm. It worked on her just as well as it did on others, and maybe that was why he'd been hiding his face from your gaze all along. This young woman was.. basic in every way he could think of. Nothing about her peaked his interest as it did with you- a fact that should be worrying him. Yet he decided to eat first.

She started to rudely push her hands in between the fabric of his robes, making him grasp her wrists with a predatory grin. If she noticed that something was off, she didn't mention it, as she grew even more happy at the fact he was trying to control her. Humans were so fond and protective of their dreams, loving the way that they thought they had full control over everything that happened. It made nightmares the more terrifying for them. "Feisty. Love that." She murmured, and he placed his hand on her cheek, making her raise her eyebrows.

"Oh how ugly you are."

He sang with a voice playful and mocking, as she widened her eyes, trying to get off of him. "Ah-ah, where do you wanna go now? You chose your seat, yet now you want to take back your decision?" He said, gripping her waist as she gasped in pain, heart rate surely increasing as she began to sweat. His smile widened as his hands dug into her skin, surely leaving bruises as she whined out, not yet where he wanted her yet. "Feisty- love that." He mused impishly, his eyes slowly drowning in black, oozing out shadows as his pupils glowed a vibrant red, a fire behind them it seemed.

The young woman squirmed on his lap, desperation calling out to her in her veins, making her try and scratch him- yet instead of blood, she only found black ink on her hands, making her wipe them furiously as she noticed ants crawling up her legs. She began to breath heavily, eyes widening, as he laughed at her pathetic attempt to push away, his hand now gripping her jaw. "what do you think, whore?" He mused, voice distorted by an unknown force she didn't want to understand, her eyes leaking tears to no end as she realized how this was out of her control. "Ah, she is empty already. How boring." He said, letting her fall onto her back, coughing violently as she ran to her bedside table, trying to find something in it. Yet he was already behind her, forcing her body in front of her vanity mirror as he had her hair in his fist, forcefully pulling on it as if it was a handle to use, her eyes closed as she chanted to wake up. He laughed, before he spoke his words. "Look ahead, stupid child. Do you still think your disgusting words make you more appealing?" He said, as she opened her eyes;

waking up screaming louder than she'd ever did before.

With bruises ever so present.

The demon was in a good mood these days.

Maybe you just imagined things, but he felt more carefree around you, simply lounging on your couch as if he owned the place- and you didn't mind him doing that at all. He was nice company after all.

He joked around with you, asked you things, and seemed genuinely interested in you as a person; you felt as if you both got closer the more you conversed.

He noticed your dreams, yet never interfered to this night, as the nightlight broke in your room, darkness drowning your dreams in terror and war. You sobbed in your sleep, and his nonexistent heart clenched at the sight- the force inside his veins however didn't have anything to do with him joining your dreams, however. No, this was all his own decision this time.

Your dreams were.. a feast, to be exact. For him, it felt like he was at a buffet, ready to pack his plate until he was filled to the brim- yet the curled up form of your body, tormented by shadows and fiends, he sighed. He couldn't feed off of you. His own pride didn't allow it.

He considered you something humans called a 'friend', yet the desire he'd started to develop speaking different words, his own fantasies not so saint as yours.

But for now, he pushed these rabid thoughts away from his mind, crouching down next to you, embracing you into his arms for the first time, your sobs dying down as you noticed who it was shielding the darkness. Your hands grabbed onto the expensive looking fabrics he wore, trying to get even closer to him than you already were, while you calmed down, whispers and shouts around you slowly dying down, leaving nothing but comfortable white noise.

You slowly detached yourself from his form, eyes widening at the way he seemed to be emitting black smoke all around you two. Yet he also seemed to glow, just like he did back in your hospital room, a source of light without clear form. Just like a shadow, you knew what he looked like- yet you couldn't tell for sure. His face was completely blank, making you feel uneasy.

"You cannot dream of something you haven't seen yet." He said, voice low and humming, mildly distorted by some unknown force around you two. You nodded at that, his words making sense to you. Yet it made you feel a bit sad, knowing that you'll probably never see him either way. "Have you hoped to catch a glimpse of my features in your dreams, hm?" He playfully asked, brushing some hair away from your face, and you liked to imagine his face gentle and soft. "How sweet of you." He mused, before he leaned in, his features not distinguishable for your own eyes- it was as if you could see them, but forgot about them immediately. It hurt to know that you could see him, yet you couldn't hold onto the memory of it. Like your own mind was mocking you for not having the courage to go against his rule of not raising your gaze enough to study his face properly when you were awake.

Yet his kiss felt as real as it could get.

It was confident, knowing in the mere fact that you had developed feelings for the unknown being following you around these days, even though it seemed stupid to the both of you. It felt like you found something missing again, yet at the same time it was way too foreign to be something that had happened to you before. You were a shy being, way too gentle to ever find someone who would drown you in a kiss like this; fiery and demanding, yet also giving and utterly bewitching.

But didn't he say that you couldn't dream of something you haven't experienced before?