#and “interrupting others” and that they always seem like they’re “putting on an act”

[little-red-fool]

You ever see a famous person and you’re just thinking. There’s something undiagnosed about you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Heyy hope you’re doing well!

Can I request a fem reader with Bi-Han and Kuai Liang? Reader is a highkey mischievous little shit and her favorite pastime is annoying the hell outta Bi-Han (Kuai Liang probably has to stop his brother from crucifying her lol)

Thanks!

Ngl this is extremely rubbish as idk where else to go with this in all honesty. 🦦

Regardless of how you had inserted yourself into the lives of brothers, Bi-Han and Kuai Liang, but one thing was definitive; you enjoyed being the thorn in Bi-Han’s side. From the deep furrow in his brow, the appearance of frown lines and the look of pure annoyance within his dark eyes that were usually in a perpetual state of fatigue in due to his duties of being Grandmaster, those were the highlight of your day. What wasn’t a highlight however was the aftermath where Bi-Han would chase after you throughout the Lin Kuei with an ice dagger.

Much like he was doing right now;

‘Y/n! When I find you, I swear I’ll make an example out of you for disrespecting the Grandmaster!’ Bi-Han shouted, running towards Kuai Liang, ice dagger in hand. ‘What have they done now brother?’ Kuai Liang asked even though he didn’t need to, his eyes drift to the top of his brothers’ head, where sat two pigtails tied with what looked like vibrant pink hello kitty hair ties. Kuai Liang had to try and stop himself from bursting out laughing at the ridiculous sight.

Bi-Han looked at his brother, unamused and annoyed that his hunt was interrupted. You couldn’t have gone far, that he knew for certain, but if there was one thing that Bi-Han has come to know about you was the fact that after pulling your pranks, you’d often seek out his brother for protection against his wrath. It had been your primary escape route in the past, so it made general sense to Bi-Han that you would try and utilise your only way to evade facing the consequences of your actions. ‘From your poor attempt of hiding your snickers, brother. I’m going to assume that you got a right good look what they did to me.’ Bi-Han grunted. ‘Now, where are they?’

Kuai Liang shrugged. ‘Haven’t seen them.’

‘Nows not the time for lies, Kuai Liang.’ Bi-Han warned.

‘I’m being serious Bi-Han, I haven’t seen them. But I’ve heard from some others that they’re with Tomas at the training grounds.’ Kuai Liang said and a brief moment of silence befell the brothers as they stared the other down. ‘You better hope that they’re with Tomas.’ Was all Bi-Han said before he ventured down the hallway, leaving Kuai Liang alone…or not because a voice from behind the younger brother spoke.

‘Is he gone?’

Kuai Liang sighed as he peered over his shoulder to look at you. ‘Yes he’s gone but reallly? Putting his hair into pigtails and hello kitty hair ties?’

‘Not my best work, I know, but I was bored and was running out of ideas and so I thought that the hair ties would be a nice touch.’ You shrugged as you stepped out from behind him, and breathing out a sigh of relief when you couldn’t see the cryomancer anywhere. ‘You can’t always keep doing this, I won’t always be here to shield you and if you’re not carful one day he’ll catch you in the act.’ Kuai Liang warned you, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt as though he’s had this conversation with you multiple times but it doesn’t seems as though his words have stuck with you; for it seemed that recently you were pranking Bi-Han just to tempt fate.

So needless to say that Kuai Liang couldn’t wait for the day where he’d get to say I told you so, would be a severe understatement. For as much as he loved you, it was only a matter of time before Bi-Han inevitably started taking methods in catching you faster.

‘Do you take me for a fool, Kuai Liang? There’s no way that Bi-Han could ever catch me in the act.’ You boasted with a smirk, having grown confident that whilst Bi-Han knew it was you, he had yet to actually catch you. ‘I’m far too slippery for him to catch! I’m gone before he even knows what hit him, and I mean that in both the literal and figurative sense.’

Kuai Liang raised his brows. ‘Oh really?’

‘Really.’ You stated confidently, your smile practically beaming.

‘Then who’s that behind you?’ Kuai Liang asked and immediately the air started to go cold and your smile dropped as slowly but surly you looked over your shoulder to see a murderous Bi-Han stood there, ice dagger still grasped tightly within his hand. ‘Hey Bi-Han.’ You swallowed thickly. ‘Did you do something different with your hair today? It looks nice, suits you even.’ You chuckled nervously as your hands began to sweat upon hearing Bi-Han growl out a single warning from behind his mask.

‘Run.’

‘Good idea.’ You replied swiftly before running off to find some place to hide as Bi-Han followed soon after. Kuai Liang gave it a couple of moments before then deciding to run after the pair of you to mediate the situation like he always did.

[eomayas]

all the rumors are true • bbh

pairing: idol!baekhyun x f!idol!reader

genre: fluff & angst

synopsis: your secret relationship with baekhyun getting revealed, and what comes after.

warnings: none!

a/n: very self indulgent lmao i had this thought a few days ago and needed to get it out! the ending is a bit choppy i ran out of thoughts. heavily unedited and not proof read 🫣

“yes, i take care of all of them,” you laugh, nodding at the radio show hosts question about if it’s hard being a leader to a group of 4, including yourself. “especially our youngest.” you say, glancing over at sunny, the baby of your group.

“what’s the age difference between you and her?” the host asks.

“six years,” you say, making the host gasp.

“ah, so you’re 28… that means she was 16 when you debuted?” the host looks between you and sunny, both of you nodding. “wow, so you probably have had no time for dating since even before debut!”

you laugh, though it’s 90% true, which sucks. “yes, because she was so young when we were trainees—we all were—i was always with them to make sure they stayed out of trouble and weren’t around strange people,” you say, your eyes sliding over all of your members. “so, no, there hasn’t been a lot of time to date. but i’m not mad at that because i was taking care of my babies.” everyone chuckles at the last bit and mingwa puts her head on your shoulder.

“y/n needs somebody to take care of her!” heejin, the second to youngest member shouts. you smile and shake your head at her words, though they’re unbelievably true. if only the public knew that you were, though. that instead of laying your head on a soft pillow every night, you lied down on a hard chest and let strong arms hold you tight, while soft kisses on the top of your head lulled you to sleep.

“girl, i’m your candy,” sunny sings quietly. you don’t cut your eyes at her immediately, but the panic bubbles in your chest. nobody mentions her singing, or sings along, but sunny and mingwa share a quick look that freaks you out, makes you paranoid that in a few hours when the video recording of this session is posted, speculations will start.

you glance at sunny, hoping to catch her eye, but she’s engrossed in what the host is talking about. you can barely hear above your heartbeat in your ears, the blood rushing through so quickly it’s starting to give you a headache. you try to discreetly regulate your breathing, trying to remember those videos talking about square breathing that you found online. nobody seems to notice, except mingwa who taps your forearm and looks at you with concern that you brush off.

you manage to make it through the rest of the interview as normal as possible. you start talking a lot less, letting your members share more about themselves and the group, and nobody except for mingwa clocks that you were mentally somewhere else.

saying your goodbyes, the four of you get up and shuffle out of the radio station and into the outside world where dozens of cameras await. the shutters fly at rapid pace, and the flash on some of them are nearly blinding, but you and your group smile and pose, despite the chaos happening.

shuffling into the car, you let the three others get inside first. you take the last seat in the sprinter van and buckle yourself in, resting your head against the headrest. “y/n, are you alright?” mingwa asks, concern clear and evident in her voice. you let out a breath and sit up, turning around to look at sunny.

“why did you start singing ‘candy’, soojin?” you ask, using her full name. she looks at you with wide eyes at her government being called and holds her hands up in surrender. “do you know what people are going to say?”

“sorry, mom,” she shoots back, giving you an incredulous look. “all they’re going to say is that i’m acting exactly like how the youngest person is supposed to be acting—interrupting you and singing over everybody. nobody is going to say anything about you and baekhyun.” you press your lips together, stumped because she’s most likely right, even though you have an inkling in the back of your brain that somebody is going to take notice, and make something out if it.

“well, you don’t really want people thinking you go around interrupting everybody,” you chastise. sunny rolls her eyes at you and sighs dramatically.

“we are quite literally the perfect group—i don’t know why you are so worried about our image all the time,” she says. you decide that the conversation is over, and sit facing forward again. sunny doesn’t understand that everything, at the end of the day, falls on you. people look at you like you birthed these girls and raised them up yourself. if one of them screw up, it falls on the entire group but rests on your shoulders to clean up. your image is so important to uphold, because there has only ever been one scandal to your groups name at the beginning of your careers that you did everything possible to stop the public from shaming you and the girls. it’s not easy to do that.

the ride is silent, save for their nails tapping against their phone screens. you sit with your eyes closed and your head leaned back, ready to dive into bed and maybe call baekhyun. maybe.

“would it really be that bad if everybody knew about you and baekhyun?” sunny asks, cutting into the silence. you open your eyes, but don’t turn around. the hair on your arms stands up at his name being mentioned so loudly, somewhere that isn’t the safety of your dorms.

“yes,” you reply. you think about the uproar it would cause, and what it would do to your career. his would be fine, of course, because the dismissal is never the same for men as it is for women. your group would probably have to disband, or you’d have to leave. it would look terrible, especially since you are the leader, if this was public news. “it would be awful, sunny. i cant lose my career over a man.” and while a nasty pang of guilt rips through your chest, it’s the truth.

“but… you told me you think that you love him. that’s not enough?” when she says these words, it’s like she’s 16 again, asking you why the world was mad at your group for a rumor about heejin. her voice is small, naive almost, and it reminds you how far apart you two really are.

you can’t help that your eyes start to water. “soojin, can we talk about this later?” you ask, blinking back the tears. you swallow thickly and pull your headphones out of your pocket, turning up your music loudly to block out any thoughts of you and baekhyun, and the public finding out.

getting back to the dorms, you head straight for your room. you close the door behind you and pull out your headphones and sigh, your head pounding. flopping onto the bed, you bury your face in the pillows and close your eyes.

you’re disrupted by a knock only moments later, and you let out a breath before telling whoever it is to come in. “y/n?” sunny’s voice calls from the doorway.

“yeah?” you roll over and sit up on your elbows to look at her. she gives you a sheepish smile and comes over to your bed, crawling in bed next to you like she used when you guys were trainees and she kissed her family.

scooting over, you make space for her to rest her head on your shoulder, your arm wrapping around her. “sorry for earlier. i guess i’m just trying to see the positive side to it,” sunny says.

“it’s fine,” you sigh. “i’m just super paranoid.”

“is baekhyun?” she asks.

you shake your head above her. it’s amazing to you that he seems to have no qualms or fears about your relationship becoming public. he’s fine with it being a secret or being news, and it makes you feel like shit, like it looks like you’re afraid of being seen with him. though it’s far from that. “no, and i guess that’s what makes me more stressed out. because he’s too chill about it, and doesn’t seem to be worried.”

“he’s old,” sunny snorts and you chuckle. there’s only four years between you and him, so she’s technically calling you old too, but you don’t say anything. “are you gonna tell him you love him?” she asks after a beat of silence. you still against her and she lifts her head to look at you.

it’s a sensitive subject—you and baekhyun haven’t said it yet. you won’t say it, because you’re afraid it’ll open a dam of bad things starting to happen. like once it’s out in the open, the worst possible thing could happen to your relationship. “maybe. i don’t know. probably not,” you ramble.

sunny gives you a sad look and squeezes you into a hug. she doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but enough passes between the two of you. i’m here for you, she says. i know, you say back.

baekhyuns hands are on your ribs, holding you firmly and pressing you flush against the side of his car as he takes you into a nice, soft kiss. your arms snake around his neck, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at his neck.

his lips move slowly against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. your chest burns with adoration and want, and him tugging you closer to him only makes you throb. pulling away, his mouth chases yours and you let him kiss you again, this time letting him tilt your head back so you’re practically lying against the car.

it’s risky to be out in the open like this, but the parking garage is secluded and for residents of his apartment only. you would see and hear anybody coming through, but so far you haven’t in the last seven minutes.

you pull away from him again, and stop his advances by gently pressing your fingers to his lips. “baekhyun,” you say softly. he kisses your fingertips and then your cheek.

“yes?” he says, looking into your eyes with an intensity that makes your knees weak, so much so that you rest your weight against the car.

“can we go inside?” you ask, your fingers dancing on his cheek. he nods and kisses your palm before grabbing it and taking you to the elevators. baekhyun wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, kissing your temple for a long time, all the way until the doors open, and then pulling you down the hallway to his apartment.

he helps you out of your coat and hangs it up. “what do you want to eat?” he asks as you step out of your shoes.

“bold of you to assume i’m hungry,” you tease, but you’re always hungry around him, and you are hungry right now. baekhyun rolls his eyes at you and repeats his question. “i don’t know. chicken? ramen? rice? whatever you want.” you say, kissing his lips. he holds you close for a beat before letting you go so he can get something started for the two of you.

you bound to the living room and sprawl out on his large couch, turning the tv onto one of the many shows you two have started watching together. you get comfortable and pull a blanket over you, snuggling into the cushions while he busies himself with the task of making dinner.

baekhyun comes into the living room with two bowls of food a few minutes later. you sit up and thank him as you accept the dish, crossing your legs and resting the bowl in your lap. “what did i miss?” he asks, and you catch him up on the show in between bites.

you two eat in a close and comfortable silence. he’d probably have his arm around you if it wasn’t uncomfortable while you two were eating. the close proximity is enough though, your knees touching and his right arm lightly bumping into your left.

you set your bowl on the table, ready to get up to get a drink but baekhyun gets up quicker than you, already knowing what you want. he goes into the kitchen and comes back with two glasses of water. it feels like the world is slipping beneath your feet, and you could cry because of him.

this is the taking care of that heejin said you needed. you finally have it—he’s always like this with you, feeding you, making sure you’re well rested and fed and just okay. he takes whatever worries you have and throws them on his back and just lets you be.

after dinner, you and baekhyun retreat to his bedroom. you lie on his bare chest, a hand resting on his stomach and your ear against his heart. baekhyun mindlessy plays with your hair, his fingers digging into your scalp soothingly. your eyes can’t help but flutter close—there’s no point in trying to fight sleep. you’ll wake up with him tomorrow.

the speculations didn’t start the next day. no, everybody thought it was so cute and funny that sunny blurts out random things while her older members are talking. there were compilations made from your groups content; interviews, your group vlogs, and more. it was funny, honestly, that they adored her disruptiveness.

the speculations started four days later. and when the news broke, the internet nearly stopped working because there were pictures and videos. so many pictures and videos, that it felt like somebody may have been stalking you. there were pictures of you and baekhyun kissing against his car, of you two in his car, of you two getting out of his car, of you two going for a late night walk near the han river.

and then there were videos—albeit, mostly can made—that served as proof that you two really are dating. there’s the longing looks shared at award shows, zoomed in videos of you two standing next to each other on stages, hands brushing. the other videos are just more reasons to believe that you two are dating; heejin saying you need to be taken care of, and then clips of baekhyun taking care of his own members. videos of you talking about your ideal type, and clips proving that you must have been referring to baekhyun, or jaír got really lucky that you found him.

it’s overwhelming.

when the pictures surfaced, you and mingwa were in the practice room dancing to your debut songs. the alert popped up on your phones at the same time, but mingwa grabbed hers first. you heard her gasp and ran over, thinking she might’ve twisted her ankle, but instead were met with her guilty eyes and her perfectly fine ankle.

you didn’t know what to do when you saw the photos. your heart stopped and your felt sick. your head started pounding, and it felt like a rug was being pulled from underneath your feet. you didn’t know what to do, so you started crying, falling to the floor in a heap. you weren’t sobbing, but your were audibly crying, and mingwa wasn’t sure what to do. you managed to get yourself together, and excused yourself to your room, avoiding any staff members on your way.

and now you’re on the phone with baekhyun, trying not to burst into tears as he keeps telling you everything will be ok. “baekhyun, this was such a bad idea!” you cry, pressing your forehead into your hand.

“what was? dating me?” he asks, slight offense in his voice.

“yes!” you shout, but you don’t even believe yourself. “w-we shouldn’t have gotten involved.” you’re adding fuel to the fire, hoping he’ll just break up with you so you can say those photos aren’t real, and that you’re not longer dating so everybody can leave you alone.

“you don’t mean that,” baekhyun says, his voice soft on the other line. it makes you feel like shit. “do you?”

you shake your head, though he can’t see you. “no,” you say meekly. “but we- y/n, you knew this could happen even before we started dating.” he interrupts, shutting you up. you press your mouth into a thin line. “don’t try to push me away now, y/n.” the overuse of your first name makes you feel like you’re being scolded by an elder.

“okay, i’m sorry,” you say, sighing. baekhyun parrots you and you press your body into your mattress. now would be the ideal time to tell him you love him, but it feels like it would be a poor bandaid to apologizing for saying that you should have never agreed to date him. “i don’t know what to do.” you mumble.

“let our companies handle it. you just get some sleep,” he says. you chew on your bottom lip, wishing that he was here with you.

“okay. goodnight, baekhyun,” you say. i love you, you want to add.

“goodnight, y/n.”

when you wake the next morning, your group, managers, and baekhyuns team are all in the dorm lounge. you freeze when you see him, ready to jump out of the nearest window because you know exactly what is about to happen. “we need to release a statement,” your manager says, beckoning you over to everybody.

gingerly, you walk over to your girls, sitting next to heejin at the end of the sofa, the furthest you can get away from your boyfriend. “so, i assume it’s true? the rumors about you dating? you can say no, but i’ve seen the pictures,” baekhyuns manager says, looking over at you. you nod, and when everyone keeps staring at you, you pipe up and say “yes”, your voice hoarse.

“great. how long has it been?”

“seven months,” baekhyun says, his eyes flicking to you. heejin gasps beside you, grabbing everybody’s attention.

“oh, sorry!” she says, waving everybody off. “liar!” she whispers. you told her that it’s only been four months.

both of your guys’ managers read from what looks like a checklist of things, asking you questions and scribbling down answers so they can formulate each of your statements.

“are you happy?” your manager asks, not looking up from the sheet. it’s an easy questions, and you both answer ‘yes’ with ease. “are you in love?” the question lodges your heart in your throat, and the room gets eerily silent, so silent that you could hear a pin drop in the next room.

you don’t know what to say. you don’t want to lie, and look terrible, but you don’t want to tell the truth and further complicate your relationship.

you glance over at bakehyun, and find him already looking at you. you know what you’re going to say the moment your eyes meet, and you feel your stomach flip on it’s side. your heart melts like goo in your chest as you say, “yes”, admitting after many long months the one thing that’s been clawing at you in the back of your mind.

your manager scribbles down your answer and turns to baekhyun. “baekhyun?” he asks. his eyes never leave yours, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the room, despite the fact that there’s about 10 feet of distance between you two.

“of course,” he says it so sincerely that you drop your gaze to your lap, your face turning red and a smile overtaking your lips. your group members giggle and elbow you in your side, equally as happy to hear the news.

you feel over the moon, and your past paranoia is put away and shoved into a box that you choose to ignore for a moment. both of your teams curate statements, and they’re sent out less than an hour later. you and baekhyun take the rest of the day for yourselves, driving out far to the beach and hanging there all day until it gets dark, and your teeth start clattering because of the weather. and when you get in the car, he kisses you and you quite literally feel the love has for you, and your brain goes fuzzy to the point where all you can remember is his name, everything else being put to shame.

the responses you get to your relationship are much more positive than you expect, and of course there are negative comments, but not nearly as many as there are of the positive comments. people cnat help but gush at how you found your person, and are finally getting to get taken care of.

but, of course, cameras are on you more heavily than in the past. and now, when you go on variety shows solo, they want to know about your personal life before knowing about the group. you learn to get used to it, giving way to basically nothing, and sometimes sharing more than people expect, when you want to.

like, when you go on a variety show alone with a bunch of other idols, the same show baekhyun had been on in the past, they bring up an interview moment where baekhyun says that you’re the better dresser of the two of you. you’re asked the same question, and you answer baekhyun, and follow up with admitting that you’re wearing his clothes at that very moment. that makes the internet go crazy, searching high and low for pictures of baekhyun wearing the same item, comparing how it’s massive on you but fits him snugly.

or, when you attend the end of the year award shows and exo performs, the camera is on your group more often than you’d like to admit. there are fancams dedicated to your reaction of his groups performances, everybody focused on how you react to baekhyun specifically. of course, the same thing happens to him with you, and he’s a lot more shameless about his support of you.

you group responds well to your now public relationship. you’re able to get all five of you together more often, and they look at him like a bigger brother. sunny often tags along on your dates and asks about baekhyun and genuinely treats him like her uncle. she makes a lot of jokes about the two of you, mainly on camera. like, when you’re filming content for you groups vlog, she asks how baekhyun asked you out, and then sings the bridge of ‘blooming days’ by CBX, and does the dance too. the internet eats that up, constantly sharing the clip because it truly was funny.

despite the public news of your relationship, though, you and baekhyun manage to keep it private. besides what you choose to share, you can easily dodge questions about your private lives and keep the mystery alive. it does help your relationship now that more people know—there’s no threat of getting caught, or the constant feeling of breaking the rules. it’s easier now, and better than ever.

[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part 11

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again after seven years, and deal with the fall-out of a secret. 

Warnings: mentions of violence

Word Count: 3159

A/N: I know it's been 6 months, but I'm just getting back to a place where I'm able to write this story! I'm sorry this took so long <3 thank you to @whisperingmidnights for your help with this part

series masterlist

“Your plan is to piss them off?” Fenrys looked at you like he prayed you were joking. 

“It’s not my whole plan.” 

“But it’s part of it?” 

“Figure out how desperate they are, and I can get a good gauge on how dangerous or useful the object is.” 

“Don’t underestimate their intelligence,” Fenrys cautioned. 

Rowan wanted to snarl at the male, he might as well have agreed this was the best plan. It was a good plan, he could admit that, there was only one pitfall - a very big one. It puts you in harm's way. No, it makes you even more of a target than you already are.

“What if it backfires?” Aelin asked, and Rowan both admired and was incensed by how calm she seemed. “What if others become suspicious, start asking around, and end up wanting the same thing they do?” 

“There’s always a risk,” you chewed on your bottom lip. He was about to open his mouth, to say ‘exactly’ or, ‘it’s too great of a risk,’ when you turned your gaze on Fenrys, then Aelin, then him. 

“From a strategic standpoint … if it weren’t me -” 

“It is you,” Aelin interrupted, but you continued as if she hadn’t said a word. 

“What would you say? What if the potential knowledge we’d gain is of great risk to Terrasen? Aren’t we better off knowing?” 

“It’s not much of a question if you put it like that,” Fenrys muttered. He didn’t look particularly happy about it, but Rowan knew he agreed. 

He turned to Aelin. ‘What do you think?’ his eyes asked.

“She’s right.”

Gods. He knew he would, if it wasn’t you, if it was nearly anyone else he’d task them with figuring it out. 

“We know a few Akkadian males are searching for some kind of artifact or weapon,” Fenrys started, ticking things off on his fingers, “and that it’s possible they are working independently, that they want to keep this secret. We know they have … dangerous knowledge of your past, and they’re connected with some kind of underworld.” 

There’s no real other way they’d know Andal - a male he’d like to kill one day, if only for the fear and pain in your eyes when his name was said. 

Aelin pinched the bridge of her nose. “We see if it draws some kind of reaction, see if anyone else is surprised, if he’s really acting personally or if he’s a scapegoat.” 

He prepared himself to protest, but your past words ‘don’t coddle me,’ echoed in his mind. With your characteristic stubborn tenacity, you’d already set your mind to this. At least you were letting him help, at least he could do something to help keep you safe. Rowan latched onto that mentally, onto the small consolation he got. 

“We need to ensure your safety,”  he emphasized, sending you a challenging look. Rowan knew this wouldn't be as desired if they didn’t all go in on it together. Sure, you could do something similar on your own, but he knew you well enough to tell when you didn’t quite want to. When you wanted help, even if your stubborn pride kept you from agreeing to or asking for it. “You won’t -,” Rowan paused and correctly himself, “don’t need to do this alone. Anymore.” 

You agreed, and the planning began. 

-

After two long hours of hashing out every detail, reviewing and reciting them until Rowan was satisfied, Fenrys and Aelin looked ready to explode. You found some comfort in it, but even you were tiring. 

When Rowan and Aelin locked in on one of their silent conversations, you turned to Fenrys, angled so they couldn’t see your face, and mouthed “leave.” 

He winked, and made a poor excuse for a departure, but they didn’t seem to care. 

There was an impending sense of doom, perhaps your mind playing tricks on you, but you couldn’t help feeling like something - maybe everything - would go wrong, no matter how much planning you put into it. 

The Queen and King stood as well, murmuring ‘goodnights,’ before you could say anything. Fuck. 

Your ill-thought out plan had not included that. 

Aelin stopped at the door, hand on the brass knob, Rowan a few steps outside, paused as well. Golden hair fell like a curtain over her shoulder, her head turning  as you slowly stood, teeth digging into your bottom lip. 

Time slowed, her eyes tracked the movement, darkening when they reached your mouth, teeth digging into soft flesh, perhaps imagining them digging in somewhere else. You certainly where. Step by step, you crossed the room towards her. Your footsteps sounded obnoxiously loud, thundering almost as loud as your heart. She turned fully to face you, hand letting go of the door. 

Less than a foot away, you stopped. Eyes glimmering, she tilted her head - daring you. 

This time, you didn’t back down. Hands reached, cupping her palms - still she waited. You could see how the patience cost her, a small curve of your lips and she nearly snarled, but you cut off the words forming, pushing forward to close the gap. 

Soft lips, slow movements, hands wandering, grazing over shoulder, down sides, settling on hips - moving all over as if you couldn’t wait to memorize. 

A low whistle from the hallway - who, you didn’t care, but heard Rowan’s snarl as a response. Aelin’s arm wound around your waist, drawing you closer, shifting your attention back to her. 

You felt Ceri’s magic, likely just down the hall, and stumbled back. 

Hurt flashed over Aelin’s face, through her eyes, mouth parting in dismay. 

“Ceri,” you hissed, “and company,” you added as an afterthought.

The hurt faded, replaced by a smile and a knowing nod as she stepped out of the doorway. 

“Tomorrow,” she said, the word a promise and a plea. You nodded, but couldn’t shake the sense that tomorrow might not come. You cursed yourself for thinking so negatively, for winding yourself up into a state of gloom. Things would work. They had too. There was too much at stake, and too much to lose. 

Four sets of shuffling footsteps - Ceri accompanied by the little … gang, to say the least. The three E’s, Edde, Edie and Elias.

Ceri burst through the door, her friends trailing more cautiously behind her. 

“They can spend the night, right?” 

“I don’t think that’s how you ask a question,” Rowan said dryly. 

You fixed her with a sharp look before she could roll her eyes. 

“We- we can go,” Elias said, voice barely carrying. He’d always been the most cautious of the three 

You opened your mouth, already ready to agree, seeing the sharp look Rowan fixed her with out of your peripheral, but Ceri cut in first - 

“Please, can we spend the night here?”

“Yes,” you laughed and waved them back towards their rooms, shooting a kind smile towards her three friends. In all honesty, you were surprised she asked, but figured she only did it because Rowan and Aelin were also present. 

-

“You might as well adopt the three of them,” Aelin commented. She’d meant it half as a joke, but saw how your eyes brightened. 

“Maybe when this is all over.” There was a distant look in your eyes, accompanied by the slightest upward tilt of your lips. Not the distant gaze of someone in pain, but someone thinking forward, thinking of the future. 

‘Maybe’ might as well be a yes, considering your expression - and if the three of them agreed, of course, but she couldn’t see them declining it.

Aelin didn’t know how anyone could turn you down, not with your pretty eyes or -

Rowan coughed next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Not pleased with looking away from you, she managed to turn her attention to him. 

“Going to stare all night?” He asked silently. 

Aelin didn’t dignify that with a response, instead let her eyes flash briefly to your lips, before murmuring goodnight’s to all of the room’s occupants, noticing the flush on your cheeks as you tracked her gaze. 

Aelin was out the door as Rowan gave his own goodnight’s, and she already knew that once they were back in their rooms he’d gripe that she happened to be the one closer to you. 

Two fingers touched her lips, her back pressed against the stone, mind wandering - wondering when she’d get to kiss you again -

You appeared in the open doorway, eyes wide with panic, head snapping back and forth - had your magic told you something? 

Aelin realized she trusted you implicitly as you tugged her back inside, slamming the door behind her. 

“Aelin and Rowan decided to stay a little longer,” you yelled - a course of acknowledgements coming from further down the hall, already in one of the rooms. 

“He’s - they’re both down a hall or so,” you were blinking rapidly, your breaths obviously intentional. And you didn’t need to clarify who ‘he’ was. For your sake, Aelin forced a tight, tight lid on her anger - and saw Rowan do the same. 

She felt Rowan’s wind sweep past her - buffering against your shield, she felt it as a small crack opened for him - letting his wind slide into the hallway, likely clearing all traces of their scents, along with Ceri and her little gang’s away. When had she become so attuned to your magic?

She heard him as he crossed closer - pausing a few feet away from the door - before continuing on, making it to the end of the hall before he backtracked. 

“I redirected our scents, not erased them,” Rowan murmured quietly - although your magic would block any noise from escaping.

“So he knows where,” you said aloud, arms wrapping around yourself. 

Rowan moved quicker than she could, his arms laid gently over your shoulders, almost hesitantly. When you didn’t flinch, when you leaned into him instead, he tugged you closer, brought your chest to rest against his, other arm wrapping around, fingers running through your hair. 

Aelin saw when you let your beautiful mind stop running, your face tilting, cheek pressed against him, arms coming around his waist. The moment when you relaxed, and let Rowan give you comfort like a lover would. 

-

Another familiar, but friendly scent tricked through the door. Fenrys. He was both grateful and annoyed with his timing. 

“You can let him in,” you sighed. Rowan tightened his arms around you, afraid the moment might leave before he truly got the chance to enjoy it. “And you can let me go,” you whispered. Aelin was by the door now, her hand perched right above the knob. 

“I’d rather not,” he muttered, but stepped back anyway. 

Maybe the day had been too long, and likely he was reading into things but he saw a flash of disappointment on your face. 

Regardless, he’d stepped back just in time - the door swung open, revealing Fenrys - looking unusually grave. 

“I didn’t interact,” his tone indicated he would’ve liked to, very much so, and the words proved Rowan’s inkling from earlier - the wolf hadn’t gone far at all, and having known the male for decades, he wouldn’t for the rest of the night. 

-

Laying back in bed, staring at a ceiling he’d memorized hours ago, Rowan rifled through his memories. 

Maeve had a vague interest in acquiring the types of objects made by your family, but the makers were, as far as she knew, always in Antica. Unattainable. To Maeve, the individual objects wouldn’t have been worth hunting down, not when she could acquire a source. He wondered if one day, if Aelin hadn’t come in and drastically changed his - all of their lives, he or one of the others would’ve received an order to find you or a member of your family. 

Somehow, thankfully, she had no idea your mother made her way into Wendlyn. He figured yours or her magic must’ve kept you hidden, that made him wonder how they’d found you.

It was obvious, he realized with the barest tinge of guilt. Your position in Aelin’s court would undeniably bring attention to you. Expose your abilities and bloodline in a way you’d avoided for so long. That brought the question of why you had accepted, considering it’s you, you knew the risks - hence why he felt the barest tinge of guilt. Maybe, after so long, you were sick of hiding. It wasn’t any use debating, rash decisions were uncommon for you, and rarely did you tell him exactly why you made the choices you did. A bit like Aelin, but not in a good way, but unlike Aelin if he asked you he’d usually get a straight answer. Usually. 

Nothing from his past campaigns with the Akkadians, past experience with the two Fae currently stirring too much trouble, gave guidance on how tomorrow could play out. 

The plan. One he’d made them go over countless times until everyone in the room looked like they wanted to kill him, that’s when he knew to call it quits, if you stuck to it then maybe things would work out. Too big of a maybe for him, but there was no other choice at this point. 

“Try to sleep,” Aelin murmured sleepily, he heard sheets rustling and felt her head rest on his chest, hand sliding over his stomach to rest just below his ribs. 

“We’ll see,” he kept his voice low, and traced circles into her back, the bare skin warm and smooth under his calloused fingers. Her breaths were even, and she’d already fallen back asleep. 

Rowan closed his eyes, and figured he could at least try and follow his Queen’s suggestion. 

-

Fenrys tried for his usual jovial manner in the morning, but it was obvious he was on edge over breakfast. You waited to call him out until after Ceri and her friends had left, accompanied by guards.

“At least pretend everything is normal,” you pushed your food around on your plate, “or you’ll tip them off and ruin our big plan.” 

The second half was laced with some sarcasm, in hopes to placate both you and him. He snorted, but none of the tension left his body, if anything it seemed to increase. That was a failure. Hopefully the rest of the plan would work out - even with the sense of doom still hovering over you like a storm cloud.

Finally letting the spoon clatter to the plate, your hand went up to trace your scar, thumb running over the still raised skin. It shot back down as you saw Fenrys tracking the movement. Most days, you hardly noticed it, but the habit reemerged once in a while. 

You glanced at the clock. Another part of the plan. Maybe you should’ve come up with a more interesting name for it. You brought it up to Fenrys. 

He let out an edged chuckle, “operation don’t cause another international incident?”

“Technically,” you tapped one finger against the table. “They started the incident.”

The statement did feel a tad childish, but in a good way, a way that lightened some of the invisible pressure pushing your shoulders down. 

“So you admit there already is one,” some of the tension had actually left his shoulder and a small sense of accomplishment filled you, but you just shrugged. 

“Operation mitigating international incident.” 

“OMII isn’t a worthy enough acronym.” 

Fenrys’s eyes lit up at the last word. Acronym. 

After taking the time to come up with your name, the two of you were nearly late - having to cut through a secret passage to make it on time. 

O.S.H.I.T. 

Successfully hinder international tactless-assholes. Hyphenated because according to the two of you, “O.S.H.I.T.A” doesn’t have the same ring. You’d also agreed to only inform their Majesties of the moniker if the plan was successful. 

“Why do I feel like you two were up to no good?” Aelin leaned over, no more than a queen consulting one of her advisors, whispering to you. 

“We would never intend to cause trouble, your majesty.” 

A very un-royal like curse came from her lips, thankfully just loud enough for you to hear, and you fought back a smile. Fenrys winked at you from across the room. 

-

Sun warmed your skin, the temperature absolutely perfect for an early summer mid-morning. They’d requested you stay in the castle until all parties had departed. But, there was no reason you couldn’t wander around some of the gardens. Fresh air was good for you, and you felt like you’d spent far too much time in a stuffy castle recently. You ached to get back to your home, considering everything went fine, hopefully that would be sooner rather than later. Not that you need permission, you reminded yourself. 

You had to fight to keep a big grin off your face. All of the worrying, all of the stress and pressure felt worth it now that you were on the other side. 

Yes, their eyes had flashed with anger when you ‘responded to the inquiries,’ publicly and slid them a handful of notes, drawing curious eyes from their companions. It had been a relatively simple plan, but you’d spent hours rehearsing answers to every feasible and not-so-feasible reaction, making it feel much more complex than it should’ve. But they’d departed that same night, and with them left a weight off your chest. 

At least, that’s what you thought before the cool flat side of a blade pressed against your neck, angled so the slightest wrong movement would have you bleeding out on the floor - dead within a minute, something clamped around your wrist - iron, and your magic winked, reduced down to a mere puddle. Some, but not nearly enough to get you out of this. 

“Don’t move,” a voice snarled in your ear, breath warming your neck. You didn’t dare swallow, didn’t dare attempt to form any words. It wasn’t them. Not the two Akkadian’s who’d been haunting you for the last week. Who had they sent? How many others were involved?

Despite your efforts to clear your mind and focus on the current … situation, names kept whirling in your head, making it near impossible. 

Ceri. Rowan. Aelin. Fenrys. Edde, Edie, and Elias. Reya. Ani. Ines. 

‘Safe,’ a familiar and wise female voice murmured in your ear, ‘they are all safe.’  Your chest loosened a fraction. Your mind reeled through every defensive maneuver you knew, and none of them would guarantee to get you out of this alive.

You froze as his hand slid around your front, you couldn’t glance down to see, did you want to see? But … just the briefest pressure of something sliding into your pocket, a crinkle of paper. Why would they slip you a note? The thought fled from your mind with his next words. “Listen carefully,” he hissed, “to what happens next - your life depends on it.” 

Why now, you thought, why when I have so much to live for?

[atinylittlepain]

Big Fan - Part Two

Joel Miller x actress!reader

joel miller masterlist

Joel is smitten. But he's having a hard time figuring out when she's being real and when she's just acting.

warnings | 18+ lil angst, mostly fluff, fun times abound

a/n | this is a continuation of a request that I was not expecting so many people to like lol, read the first part here!

........................

“Real or fake?”

“Oh, definitely fake. I still don’t think I know how to hold a gun right. Those were all just plasticky props.” Joel laughs with a shake of his head as she shrugs. They’re sitting in the spot they usually find themselves in as the sun starts to turn syrupy over the mountains, Joel’s arm draped across the back of the bench seat on her porch with her ever so slightly leaning into his side. By the time he says goodnight to her, he knows she’ll be melted right under his arm, pressed fully into his side, since that’s how these nights tend to unravel. 

It’s been entirely too sweet, all this time he’s been spending with her. They’ll talk for hours, well into the night, but not without a few interruptions. Word had spread fast around Jackson about the pre-apocalyptic starlet, and Ellie was right, it wasn’t just Joel who had been a big fan of hers before. It was typically women, recognizing her from some sappy movie he remembers Sarah liking, stopping by her porch to tell her that they loved her work and if she needed anything at all, to not hesitate to ask. Joel couldn’t help but roll his eyes at these displays, but she always handled it with an awkward grace, giving them a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Not like the smiles she gave to him.

The men that show up are a different story. Joel would like to do a bit more than roll his eyes at them, with the way they lean up against the railing, shooting her crooked grins and telling her how they just can’t believe there’s someone “so darn pretty” calling Jackson home. But she treats them just the same as the others that show up, a clean smile and a few polite words, a far cry from the sailor’s mouth Joel has found her to have around him. And he thought he couldn’t like her more than he already did. 

After a few of these visitors had come by, Joel had fixed her with a quirked look, asking her if she was “putting on a show for these folks.” She had shrugged with a grin, and that’s how this game they play came about of Joel asking her what was real, and what was fake.

“They didn’t have someone teaching you that?” She sighs, nudging a little closer into his side.

“Mm, no. Think they were a little more concerned with how my tits looked behind the machine gun than if I was holding it right.” Joel clears his throat, her crass language flustering him a bit, and she seems to know it, giggling lightly as she looks up at him.

“Well, you seem to be holding your own just fine. But I could, um, give you some pointers some time if you want. Check out your form.” He regrets those last words the instant they come out of his mouth while she throws her head back against his shoulder in a hard laugh. He grumbles, heat creeping up his neck as her cackling finally dies down. She sighs, craning her neck to catch his downturned gaze.

“You wanna check out my form, Joel?” He huffs as she dissolves back into laughter, leaning over her thighs with her elbows propping her up. This was also something that often happened during their time together. Joel would manage to put his foot in his mouth, looking like a “hopeless fool” as Ellie lovingly put it, and she’d start teasing him until he could barely stand it. They flirted like dumb teenagers with each other, Joel wasn’t so thick that he couldn’t see that. But it never went any further than her resting her cheek against his chest in the darkening night, his arm sliding to drape over her. He knows it's silly, but he'd really like for it to go further.

She glances over her shoulder at him, sighing as her laughter finally dies down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. No more teasing, I promise.” She leans back into his side as he shakes his head.

“Have a hard time believing that, darlin.” He savors the effect that little name has on her, the melty smile she offers him whenever he calls her that. She smacks his knee before squeezing it lightly.

“Pfft, be nice, Miller. After all, you did have my poster in your bedroom.” She can barely get the words out behind her giggles. Joel tries to press a scowl across his face, but he dissolves too easily at her bright laughter, a defeated chuckle leaving his lips. 

“Alright, I couldn’t help myself. But I’m done now, I swear. In all seriousness, I’d appreciate that. You checking out my form. Could probably learn a thing or two from you.” She settles down into his side, the spot that Joel likes her in the most. He lets his arm slip down around her shoulder, hand brushing idly along her forearm.

“Why don’t we go out tomorrow for a little target practice? You can show me what you got, hollywood.” She snorts at that, hand squeezing his knee again.

“Sounds good, Texas. I’m game.”

…

“Real or fake?” She stops walking for a moment, a shy grin crinkling up her face. Joel chuckles.

“No, really?” She shrugs, picking back up the pace. They’re hiking out to a clearing Joel had used a few times to help Ellie with her target practice, a bright spring day that has them both dressed down in t-shirts, packs loosely slung over their shoulders.

“It was just a publicity stunt. Two co-stars in love. Certainly sold movie tickets, I can tell you that. But no, it was very, very fake. Truthfully, I couldn’t stand the guy.” He can’t help but laugh at her admission, shaking his head as they keep moving.

“My daughter had the biggest crush on that guy. I can remember her telling me she thought you were the luckiest lady alive to be dating him.” He lets out a long sigh. It’s been getting easier, talking about Sarah. Less of a pain and more of a relief in getting to remember her and share it with people he cares about, but a twinge still runs through his heart when he talks about her. She has been easy to talk to about it, letting him share as much or as little as he wants to, in turn telling him about her own family that she had lost, a little sister that she never got to see again. He couldn’t help being surprised at how easily they both talked with each other, coming from two completely different worlds. Though he supposes they share a whole lot more in this world they live in now.

She hums, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“Yeah, her and everybody else thought that I’m pretty sure. Such a shame he was actually a total asshat.” He snorts at that, picking up his pace to walk alongside her.

“Asshat. That’s a new one. You’ll have to share that one with Ellie. Kid’s always looking to expand her, uh, vocabulary.” She grins at him, eyes crinkling up as she laughs.

“Oh, I know. I taught her “douchebag” last week.” Joel huffs as she giggles at his exasperated expression, muttering a low “was wondering where she picked that up.” 

They fall into a comfortable silence as they reach the clearing and Joel is quick to shrug off his pack and take out the old street signs he and Ellie had painted targets on, setting them up against a stand of trees. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she had been checking him out as he turned back around to her. But he knows better, right?

He sidles up next to her and hands her the pistol he had brought along. 

“Alright, show me how you’d normally stand.” She nods, staggering her feet slightly and cocking the gun up in one hand. Joel sighs, shaking his head as he comes up behind her.

“Almost as bad as Ellie, Jesus christ. Here–” He guides her one hand up to clasp over her other hand, bringing both his arms around her to firm up her grip with a light press of his palms. He can hear the clipped inhale she takes, can feel the stuttered rise of her shoulders from where his chest is hovering against her back. He clears his throat, leaving one more firm touch over her hands before stepping back.

“Thumb over thumb. Ain’t nobody gonna knock it out of your hands that way. And two hands are always steadier than one.” She hums in confirmation, glancing back over her shoulder at him. He nods toward the makeshift targets.

“Let’s see what kinda damage you can do, darlin.” It happens so quick, Joel can barely pick his jaw up off the ground as she turns around with a bright smile. She smoked it, hitting all three targets dead center without so much as a flinch. She saunters back over to him with a chuckle at his slack expression. 

“Where the hell did you learn how to do that?” She shrugs.

“What can I say? You learn early on as an actress to always hit your mark. Thanks for the tip though, definitely made it easier to stay steady.” She goes to hand him back the pistol and he clasps his hand around hers, pulling her a little closer.

“You didn’t need my help, not really.” She just shrugs, a crooked grin on her face as she looks at him. Joel huffs.

“So why exactly did you wanna do target practice with me?” She steps a little closer, bringing her hand that’s not clasped in his up to splay over his chest.

“Maybe I just wanted to spend a little more time with you, Miller. Is that so bad?” Joel sighs, shaking his head and letting go of her hand to drag his through his hair.

“Christ, you can’t just say shit like that. Not when–” Her brow is furrowed as she cuts him off.

“Not when what?” He huffs, keeping his eyes on his boots.

“Not when you don’t really mean it.” The laugh she lets out shocks him into meeting her gaze again. She shakes her head at him.

“Who says I don’t mean it?” His head is spinning at her words, at the warm look she’s giving him and he has to scrunch his eyes shut to refocus on reality. His eyes flicker back open when he feels her palm coming up to cup his jaw.

“Joel, if you don’t believe it, just ask me. I haven’t lied to you once.” At first, he’s not quite sure what she means, but when he finally gets it, he lets out a long sigh.

“Alright. Real or fake– you’ve been flirting with me.” She smiles, her fingers lightly drumming against his chest.

“Real.” 

“Real or fake– you flirt with everyone.” She scoffs, shaking her head.

“Fake, and I’m insulted too, geez.” It’s playful, but Joel is already posing his next question.

“Real or fake– you like flirting with me because you like messing with me.” She laughs at that.

“Hmm, fake. But also a little real.” His brow furrows, but she just smiles.

“Real or fake–” She cuts him off, bringing both her arms to wrap over his shoulders.

“Wait a minute. It’s my turn. I’m gonna do something, and you tell me if it’s real or fake.” Before he can ask her what she’s going to do, she’s leaning up and guiding him down with her hand at the nape of his neck, brushing a fluttering kiss to his lips. Joel’s mind goes blank, the only thing he can focus on are her eyes as she pulls back just slightly. She grins.

“Well, was that real or–” He cuts her off this time, dipping back down for a much more demanding kiss, bringing his hands to cup her face. They both pull away a bit breathless and Joel lets out a laugh, his thumb stroking the arc of her cheek.

“Real. That was very real.”

................................

taglist: @littleshadow17 @stevesdick @agent007knight @inanni

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Nimona headcanons plus a little bonus at the end

Whenever the trio gets home it's like a switch is flipped off inside their brains and all they want to do is be lazy and relax 

They’ve got very busy and stressful lives and a pretty small home so it’s not uncommon for them to yell when they’re asking a question instead of just getting up

And if they can’t hear each other they’ll just call the other person

One time Ambrosius was yelling asking them what wanted for dinner and was interrupted by Nimona calling him 

He answered the phone and all they said was “What’d you say I couldn't hear you” he didn’t even question it he just kept talking 

Nimona brings dead animals home 

I have this small headcanon that the first time she shifted into her human form was when she met Gloreth 

So before that she was living mostly as different animals and she kind of learned their ways and those ways stuck with her 

So there is a small part of her that sees Bal and Ambrosius as incompetent hunters (can you blame her)

The boys always thank her for her doing a good job and then they wait for her to leave the room before they freak out because MY GOD SHE BROUGHT A FUCKING DEAD RAT IN THE DAMN HOUSE 

There have also been times when she’s brought live animals inside the house the trio spent half an hour trying to get a traumatized bird out of their living room 

I just know for a fact that Bal has a crazy amount of brain damage 

This man has used his head as a weapon and has been hit on the head more times than I can count 

So I feel like he has a really hard time remembering the little details he gets really bad migraines and headaches pretty frequently his eyesight is absolute shit and he has to wear contacts or glasses and he gets really bad vertigo if he doesn’t take care of himself 

This worries the shit out of Ambrosius and Nimona but there isn't much they can do except deal with the symptoms when they show up

So I was thinking about the fact that as far as we know Nimona never told Bal about what went down with Gloreth

But I know that the boys would try and heal the damage that Gloreths legacy left behind  

And in the middle of everything Bal turned to Ambrosius and said “I just wish that fucking eyesore was gone” 

He didn’t have to ask what he meant he knew it was the statue 

So Ambrosius got to work trying to get it torn down 

A lot of people including some distant relatives that he hasn’t heard from in years tried to argue that it was an important monument and that her story touched a lot of people 

To which Ambrosius responded with “I’m her direct descendant if anyone gets to choose what happens to that statue it should be me” 

It was a couple of months into Nimona’s return when the demolition was approved 

The boys had asked him a while after he came back if it was something he wanted 

And all he said was “As long as I get to help” 

It was super therapeutic for both Nimona and Ambrosius 

Like don’t get me wrong the damage she did to Nimona is still there 

And Ambrosius will always have a complicated relationship with his lineage 

But tearing down the “fucking eyesore” heals something inside them

It was supposed to be a month-long process but Nimona and Ambrosius kept going and it was completely gone after two weeks

When all was said and done they collapsed on the couch and went through just about every single emotion you can go through

A little bonus I made my mama watch Nimona with me and here are some of my favorite comments: Mind you when I first put the movie on this woman was acting like I was pulling teeth

“I like the queen she seems nice” (and then she freaked out when she died)

“So they’re nice to him 'cause he’s gold I would just steal the armor what does he have without that?” “Money Mama” “Ah”

“Why are they so mean to him he’s just a baby?” (talking about Bal)

“She’s just like you especially with those freaky eyes” (when Nimona met Bal)

“Oh, so she’s the rhino…. Makes sense”

“Awe she’s cute I can't hate her” (about Nimona again)

“Oh wait she isn’t cute that’s freaky” (when Nimona was the demon baby)

“That’s like you and your sister” (Bal and Nimona interrogating the squire)

“Hey, mama is arm chopping a love language?” “I’m worried that you would even ask me that”

“Oh he’s got issues huh?” (after Ambrosius’ internal freak out)

“Can he die a little quieter… and faster” (after the Director stabbed “Ambrosius”)

“Oh fuck that little blond girl”

We had to pause the movie right before Nimona started her rampage because we were getting tired and I woke up to her in front of the tv with it pulled up on Netflix and she turned to me and said “Can we finish it already?”

“If she sacrificed herself I will never forgive you”

“Do you watch anything with straight people?” “Mama you literally ship them” “That's not an answer” (this is right after Bal and Ambrosius kissed)

“Is there a next part?..... so when’s the next one coming out?” 

Once the movie was over I told her some people thought Ambrosius and Bal were related and she looked me dead in the eyes and said

“You’re joking. No you have no be kidding… He literally said it in the movie!” “Said what Mama?” “oh I love him so much and I lost him whatever will I do” 

And then she kept making fun of Ambrosius for the next three minutes

I asked her who her favorite was and she said Nimona I go “aweee you love me” she looks me dead in my eyes and says “don’t make it awkward”

[ferrstappen]

hey bubs, dunno if your taking requests still but I was wondering if you could write dad!Max taking his kids to a theme park for the first time, maybe Disney?

Thank you in advance

Disney World Break (Max Verstappen x fem reader

Max insisted, like really insisted on taking the kids to Disney World, you were already in Miami and a flight to Orlando would be short forty-five minutes.

You, on the other hand, weren’t so thrilled about the idea of taking two four-year-old to a theme park, walking under the humid sun for hours, packed with people from all over the world who could recognize your very famous husband.

The twins, Luca and Mila, both carbon copies of their father, pleaded you to go during the entire flight from Azerbaijan to Florida, encouraged by their father.

“Max, they’re too young to go, they’ll last two hours, tops” You told him as the twins were sleeping, cuddling each other.

“We can take breaks or whatever, we’ll take one of those VIP tours so we can skip lines,” Max hummed at the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair while his head rested on your lap.

Something flashed as you looked at him, always acting like a child outside the track, maybe because he was trying to connect with his inner child, and it all made sense. “Baby, have you ever been to Disney World?”

Blue eyes made contact with yours, his hands finding their home on your thigh. “No, not in Orlando at least. Mum and dad took a Victoria and I to Disneyland in France, but I don’t remember much”

Those words were enough to make you close your eyes and take a deep breath, knowing both Max and you were going to regret this, but it was going to be another adventure for your books. “Ok, baby. We are going to Disney world. You better book that VIP shot soon, and of course we’re going to Magic Kingdom.”

Fast forward two days and you were on the entrance of the park, Max helping Luca to choose his first ears, all while carrying Mila on his arms and telling her to choose whatever she wanted.

“Those ears look really great on you, my love.” You knelt in front of your son, fixing his hair so it wouldn’t look messy.

Just as you were speaking with your private tour guide, Max walked next to you, placing his hand on your waist and gently squeezing it to catch your attention.

“Put them on, liefde.” Max placed a pair of classic Minnie ears, as he adjusted his own Mickey hat.

It seemed like you were not only in charge of your twins, somewhere along the way after riding the Jungle Cruise, your husband started taking Luca and Mila to every shop, money not being an issue as the twins overindulged in merch and sweets.

“What do you think about going to the teacups next?” Max asked Mila, who was on his shoulders.

“Daddy, I’m tired.” Mila complained.

The whispered I told you so didn’t pass unnoticed by Max, who playfully placed his hand very near your ass.

“Max! It’s full of children here, have some respect!” You laughed, placing a kiss on his chin, only to be interrupted.

“Eww! Mama and daddy don’t!” Luca said making a disgusted expression, only to be reprimanded by his sister.

“How about we head to the castle and take our family photo?” You suggested and Max agreed, asking the guide to walk you to the best picture spot.

The sun was glowing, the four of you wearing your ears. Mila was in front of you while Luca was in front of Max who placed a hand on his shoulder and another on your ass, giving it a light squeeze just as the photographer snapped the picture.

This wasn’t a vacation, though. Just after the fireworks exploded, you were on a SUV, full of Disney World bags including multiple t-shirts, dolls, Mickey Mouse replicas, a play set of Cinderella castle driving to the airport where the jet was already waiting for the four of you.

You laughed after noticing multiple Pandora jewelry bags full of Disney charms, bracelets and earrings, even if you insisted to Max that Mila would never wear them. Max didn’t care, whatever his princess wanted, whatever his princess would get.

Max and you were still wearing your ears, staring at Mila and Luca who were both sleeping between the two of you.

“So, what do you say to a week long Disney vacation when the season’s over?” Max proposed and you giggled.

“Only if you ride all the roller coasters with them while I eat my churro” You answered and Max laughed; his gorgeous cackle which made the corner of his eyes crinkle and his mouth form the most beautiful smile before leaning to leave a kiss on your lips, careful to not disturb the twins.

“Deal”

[mitsuyeaah]

Ever since I remember myself, my dad would come in our room at night with a flashlight, looking to kill mosquitoes. That's also why the white walls of our room had little bloodstains on them :)

Maybe, reader waking up accidentally to tr boys (I'll leave it to you who) trying to kill mosquitoes in the middle of the night? :>

LATE NIGHT SHENANIGANS

syn: you waking up to them trying to kill mosquitoes in the middle of the night.

TR ft. KAZUTORA, MIKEY

cw: none, just pure fluff, my men being a lil silly in the middle of the night <3 pet names (my love, baby)

a/n: hehe of course i chose your pookies!!!

₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ KAZUTORA HANEMIYA

— would definitely try to be quiet when doing it but fails because he flails too much and accidentally knocks over the lamp resting on the bedside table (thank god it’s not broken, though). kazutora would be very apologetic afterwards though for waking you up, and most likely cuddles you back to sleep before going back to killing mosquitos.

crash! the loud sound of the lamp hitting the carpeted floor jolts your body awake. with your heart racing, and head spinning from sleepiness, you looked around the dark room to see a figure putting the knocked over lamp back on the bedside table. “kazu..?” you croaked, confused as to what he was doing at this ungodly hour. he must’ve not heard you since he walked at the foot of the bed and started.. flailing his arms?

the scene in front of you was confusing. it also didn’t help how you just woke up from your sleep, and it took a lot slower for things to process in your brain. you pinched yourself a couple of times, making sure you weren’t in some kind of weird realistic dream but no, you were awake—not fully though. you watched in confusion as kazutora looked like he was chasing something. he was so focused and determined to catch whatever he had his eyes on.

when you called out his name, this time a little louder, his gaze shot over to you—clearly startled that you were awake. “did i wake you up? i’m so sorry.” he quickly walked over to your side of the bed to give your forehead a chaste kiss, smoothing the wrinkles of confusion between your knitted brows. “my love, what are you doing? it’s 2 am..” you let out a sigh of content as he tucked you back under the covers, stroking your hair.

“i was.. i was just killing mosquitoes. they’re a bothersome.” he sheepishly admitted, a hand shyly rubbing his nape. thank god it was dark in the room because he could feel his face turning a deep shade of crimson red from embarrassment of being caught in such a silly act. you looked into his citrine eyes before letting out a snort, “you’re so cute, kazu.. d’you want me to help you kill them?”

with that, kazutora was instantly reminded with one of the reasons of why he loved you so much. you never questioned his weird antics, you always matched his energy as questionable as it seemed. best believe, the two of you spent a good 10 minutes laughing and trying to catch those damned flies.

₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ MANJIRO ‘MIKEY’ SANO

— tries to be quiet but resorts to trying to catch them between his hands, so he’d have to ‘clap’ which then wakes you up and may or may not be apologetic when he does accidentally wake you up. definitely starts getting frustrated because he can’t catch them (he’s kinda short) and you just lie there and laugh at him.

clap! clap! clap! you let out a groan, your sleep suddenly being interrupted by a loud constant noise. “manjiro.. can you go look at what’s making that sound..” you mumbled as you turned to your side, trying to catch the slumber you had just a few minutes ago. manjiro didn’t respond, and the constant clapping noise was still there. groaning, you sat up from the bed and rubbed your eyes to see what was causing the annoying noise.

once your vision cleared, you were met with the view of manjiro on the other side of the bed, clapping his hands in the air as he seemed to be trying to catch something. you blinked several times, trying to convince yourself if that really was manjiro or some kind of hallucination you were seeing from the lack of sleep you had. “‘jiro..? what—what are you doing, baby?” your tone was a mix of confusion but at the same time amusement, it was such a funny sight to see him clapping his hands in the air during the middle of the night.

manjiro turned to you, “killing mosquitoes.” he let out a sigh before going back to what he was doing earlier. you watched as his head followed a mosquito, his onyx eyes locked on the target with full concentration before jumping off the ground a bit and clapping his hands together. he looked at his palms and let out a frustrated groan, by his reaction, you assumed he so successful at catching the little insect.

it was a funny sight to see him so frustrated and worked up over not being able to kill it—you couldn’t help but laugh at him. you lied back in bed, your body fully turned to him as you laughed at the man in front of you. manjiro furrowed his brows, bottom lip jutting out in a pout as he asked you what was funny, “you! you should see the way you jumped and clapped your hands.. hilarious.” you wiped an imaginary tear off the corner of your eyes and smiled up at him.

you could see the gears turning inside his head as he stood there, unmoving. “okay, i guess i do look a little silly but i just have to get rid of them because they’re so annoying.” he grumbled . you watched manjiro as he continued to try and catch the flies while you laughed at his awkward figure while trying to do so. if it were any other person laughing at him, he would’ve gotten angry but it was you, and he was completely fine with that. he liked it when you laughed anyway, even if it meant making a fool out of himself.

© mitsuyeaah

[timeagainreviews]

Bursting Your Bubble

Liam Lynch once said- “The internet is a glimpse into how rude people will be in the future.” At the time it felt like just another funny little line from his song “Internet Killed the Video Star,” (not to be confused with the Limousines’ song of the same name) but nowadays it feels prophetic. Just this morning I made the mistake of reading the comments section and it’s thrown my day off considerably. From the comforts of our keyboards, we can write horrendous things. Treat strangers with contempt. It’s sometimes easy to forget there are actual people on the other end of our glowing screens. Insularity breeds contempt for the different. We live in our little bubbles.

It would be easy to blame the posters, the content creators, the influencers. A few bad apples spoil the bunch. But as psychologist Philip Zimbardo would say- don’t blame the apples, don’t blame the barrel, blame the barrel makers. The people who put the apples into the barrel in the first place. Despite everything Russell T Davies’ “Dot and Bubble,” is trying to say, one question hangs over it and the rest of this season- who is the barrel maker? Things in Finetime are anything but fine, but by whose design? One might assume it’s Susan Twist’s character, but who is she? This is the overarching question of season one, but is the question beginning to feel a bit drawn out?

From the outset, “Dot and Bubble,” acts as a sort of Black Mirror version of “Blink.” We’re given a young blonde woman who finds herself in a dangerous situation that requires her to look at something she would usually ignore. All the while, the Doctor and his companion are forced to talk to the young woman through a screen. The difference here is that while Sally Sparrow had gumption, Lindy Pepper-Bean is about as useful as a wicker toilet. She lives in “Finetime,” an actual bubbled world. Her “Dot,” device then creates yet another bubble around her head. It’s bubble inception. The bubble tells her when to wake up, how to walk, and even when to pee. (Shout out to my boy Dr Pee!) Because of this, Lindy lives an unobserved life where hard questions need not bother her.

Everything about Finetime is a hyper-realistic nightmare of overstimulation. It’s like “A Clockwork Orange,” meets “The Stepford Wives.” Lindy can ignore her problems when there’s always a new Ricky September video on the horizon. As Frank from Brad Neely’s “The Professor Brothers” said- “We danced like those people in the hyper-tight light of fried chicken commercials.” Lindy and her “friends,” can completely ignore the fact that their friends have slowly begun disappearing. They don’t even seem to notice when they’re the only ones in the room, how would they notice gigantic slugs eating each other?

With Ncuti Gatwa away filming season four of “Sex Education,” the show had to do a couple Doctor-lite episodes. These are usually hit-or-miss among fans, but as “Blink,” proved back in 2007, they can become fan favourites. The Doctor and Ruby’s roles are reduced, but this episode does a good job of making them feel like a recurring part of the story. Even though they spend the bulk of the episode in what looks like the intro to “The Brady Bunch,” it never feels like we’re being underserved.

Lindy’s friends float around her like talking heads in her holographic bubble. But she keeps getting interrupted by the Doctor and his bad vibes. Even though Ruby is also invading her privacy despite not being on her friend list, Lindy is willing to hear her out. We’re not told why up front, but there is a reason Lindy can believe Ruby might feasibly be tech support, but the Doctor could not. Due to Lindy’s impatience, Ruby is forced to talk to Lindy as if she were a child, but not so much that she catches on. Anyone who stops Lindy from either working or playing is a massive drag to her. She really just wants Ruby and the Doctor to go away. How do they not know how society works? Why are they asking such stupid questions when the answers have been drilled into everyone since they were children?

We learn that Lindy’s mother is Penny Pepper-Bean, but she’s actually another Susan Twist cameo, so she could be anyone. Thankfully, both the Doctor and Ruby recognise her this time, and it’s not in an aborted timeline. I saw someone mention on Facebook today that they felt the Doctor recognising her felt rushed, and I couldn’t disagree more. It was high time we got something from this storyline. While it has been nice to genuinely be curious about Doctor Who’s mysteries again, this one has felt like a lot of the same. With the Doctor and Ruby now clued in, we have somewhere else to go in the future. Maybe now Susan Twist will come out from behind the mask and we can learn something more about her. Maybe now the Doctor will start looking into her involvement.

I’m usually not interested in fan theories as they’re often filler content when YouTubers and bloggers don’t have anything else to talk about. But here I believe we’ve been given quite a lot to work with to formulate a theory or two. I know I said “It’s probably not the Rani because it’s never the Rani,” but at this point, if she’s not the Rani, they’ve wasted their biggest opportunity to reintroduce audiences to her that the show has ever had. At this point, it would be weird if she wasn’t the Rani. The things she’s been involved with have all of her usual hallmarks. We have genetic manipulation in “Space Babies,” humans are being treated like lab rats in “Dot and Bubble,” and then there’s the whole disguising yourself in plain sight aspect. At this point, the bigger question isn’t whether or not she’s the Rani. The bigger question is why wouldn’t she be? Why would the show come so close to revealing her and then pull back?

Ruby finally convinces Lindy to look beyond her bubble where she witnesses her co-worker being eaten by one of the Man-Traps. Usually Lindy could just ask her Dot to guide her to safety, but for some reason, it feels more than ready to direct her right into the open mouth of a Man-Trap. Lindy must walk without the aid of her Dot, and man does she suck at it. She quite literally cannot walk talk and chew bubblegum at the same time. Part of me was worried the episode was going to spend all of its time making fun of young people and their phones. It’s cliched and honestly, I’m tired of it. But within the context of the episode, Davies isn’t attempting a technophobic condescension toward the youth of today. Instead, the episode endeavours to highlight the danger of relinquishing your thoughts and actions to outside entities. If we let others tell us what to like, who to like, or how to live, you may as well become worm food.

Having narrowly escaped death by slug, Lindy is forced to bumble about outside while the Doctor and Ruby direct her like the most exasperated form of Google Maps ever. An interesting aspect of this scene that I’ve not heard anyone talk about is the greenish-blue blood seen from a body being dragged away. You may not know what I’m talking about, but I’ll post a picture below. You may look at that and say “That’s not blood, that’s slug goo.” But where else in the episode do we actually see the Man-Traps leave behind any kind of snail trail? I’m going to go out on a limb and say I think the people of Finetime are blue-blooded, and considering what we learn about them, it makes sense. Blue blood is often a symbol for aristocracy, but it can also be used as a way to imply an inbred nature. In this case, we could infer that the citizens have blue blood because they don’t “dilute,” it with the blood of non-white people. Oh did I not mention the Finetimers are racists? More on that in a bit.

Throughout most of this episode, only one of Lindy’s friends seems to be concerned with the fact that people are going missing, and that’s Gothic Paul. Gothic Paul was a nice little addition to the episode because a trans man plays him and they didn’t make a big deal about it. He wasn’t even killed for being trans. He was killed for being delicious and too dumb to notice. A diversity win! Compare this to Chibnall’s gay representation where a character says “By the way, I’m gay,” and then spiders eat her face. LGBTQ+ people are allowed to exist in such a manner that it doesn’t feel like “kill your gays,” when they kill our gays. Representation has been so good that it’s not even problematic that a drag queen made a child disappear. You know, the thing all of those conservatives are worried about with drag story hour? That’s just the Maestro’s schtick. 

After the battery in Lindy’s Dot goes dead, she’s basically a sitting duck. That is until she hears a familiar voice call out. A voice belonging to none other than the dreamy Ricky September. Maybe it’s the insular nature of being a pop star, but Ricky isn’t bogged down by his Dot. Instead, he’s learned to appreciate existing offline. Because of this, Ricky reads things about their people’s history. And even luckier for Lindy, Ricky can actually walk and move about in the world. After a bit of starstruck awe, Lindy takes his hand as he leads her away from danger. It’s almost sweet if you don’t suspect what’s coming.

Ricky leads Lindy to Plaza 55 where a door leading to the river flowing beneath the bubble can lead them out into the Wild Woods. Knowing a bit about coding, Ricky simply needs to type in two digits every five seconds and the door will come open eventually. With no Man-Traps about, Lindy needs only to sit tight and let Ricky work his magic. While she waits, Lindy is able to charge her Dot which enables the Doctor and Ruby to contact her again. The Doctor infers that the Dots can see the Man-Traps, but willfully encourage people to walk directly into their mouths. As it turns out, the Dot hates Lindy and her friends about as much as the audience does. The AI has gone rogue and it’s taking these airheads with it. Sadly, this is also when the episode starts to get bogged down by the season's overarching plot.

The Doctor deduces that the Man-Traps are eating the people in alphabetical order. This leads him to believe that the AI must have created the Man-Traps, otherwise they would eat whoever, whenever. The reason I feel this feels bogged down by the overarching plot is that I can’t imagine these golfball-sized Dots being capable of growing creatures in a laboratory. The most they can do against Ricky and Lindy is act as a projectile. They don’t even have thumbs. Because of this, it’s logical to imagine that there is a third party involved. It’s not hard to imagine who that third party is, considering Susan Twist’s cameo. But in the meantime, we as an audience are left in a state of limbo where this is either part of some greater plan, or an unsatisfying plothole. Albeit, not an incredibly episode-breaking one. After all, the Daleks manage quite a bit with only a plunger.

With Lindy’s Dot trying to bash their brains in and Lindy being next in line, alphabetically speaking, we are finally introduced to who Lindy actually is as person. Using her mega fan knowledge about Ricky September, she informs the Dot that Ricky’s name is a stage name and his real name is Coombes. Ricky can barely believe the betrayal from the woman he’s tried so very hard to save. But her gamble pays off as the Dot refocuses its attention on Ricky, giving Lindy enough time to escape to the river while the Dot strikes down poor Ricky. As face turns go, this is one of the worst in Doctor Who history. However, it’s not entirely without warning. Certain lines of dialogue have clued us in to Lindy’s true nature throughout the episode.

Before we leave him behind like Lindy so callously does, I’d like to take a moment to talk about Ricky September, as I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him. It was hard to tell what the Dot does to Ricky because the camera looks away, but he could have survived. Why I think this is because they spend a lot of time building Ricky up as a character. Both the Doctor and Ruby have shown a romantic interest in him. There have even been rumours that there would be a sort of love triangle between the Doctor, Ruby, and Ruby’s boyfriend. On top of that, we’ve got another blonde-haired blue-eyed person with RS for initials. Even further, the S in both names indicates a point in time- September and Sunday. And just because Ricky comes from a community of racists doesn’t mean he is one. Like he said, he does a lot of reading. Perhaps he’s learned better. Or I’m wrong and he has a Dot-sized hole in his head.

Finally, we get to see the Doctor and Ruby in the flesh. Even more finally, we get to see them both in the costumes they wore in their first costume reveal! Lindy gives the Doctor and Ruby some shitty excuse about Ricky turning back to save more people. She even gives a begrudging thank you to them, but ultimately can’t bring herself to let the Doctor help her or her friends. Lindy and her fellow survivors can’t bring themselves to interact with the Doctor because he’s black. It’s as heartbreaking for the Doctor as it is infuriating to Ruby who can only stand there and watch her friend experience this ugliness. But the Doctor is still the Doctor and he’s a bigger man than their small minds. He continues holding out a lifeline to some of the most undeserving group of spoiled narcissists to ever grace the screen of Doctor Who.

I’ve seen people complain that the Doctor does this. That it doesn’t mesh with the same character who once punched a man who was racist toward Bill. But that was the Doctor drawing a line and defending his friend’s honour. The Doctor’s compassion is so great that he’s willing to forego his sense of self-respect to save lives. This is the same man who tries to reason with racist genocidal aliens, he doesn’t stop just because they look human. I know I would have let them die, but the Doctor is a better person than me. That’s not to say any of this is easy for him. It very clearly cuts him to his core. Ncuti Gatwa gives an earth-shattering performance here, and when you consider this is the first scene he filmed after the Giggle, it’s fucking astounding. This is the exact type of range I was hoping they would bring to his character.

As a white member of the audience, I am left with a lot of uncomfortable realisations. Like, I barely batted an eye at the fact that Lindy’s friends were all white. I’m also left wondering how many people the Doctor has saved in the past who might have also treated a black Doctor differently. But I also feel like this ending took me by surprise for a different reason than my own ignorance. I simply never expected Doctor Who to go there. The topic of racism is not new to Doctor Who. Martha experiences quite a bit of it, especially in “Human Nature.” But even their more recent attempt with “Rosa,” fell short by implying that in 3000 years, no other black person would stand up for their rights. It was an oversimplification of the civil rights movement that left me wondering if Doctor Who was capable of tackling such heavy issues. I never felt like the show properly addressed the Doctor being a woman, so believe me when I say how much I appreciate them addressing the Doctor’s race. Even further, I loved that it ultimately isn’t the Doctor who will suffer from their racism. Their prejudice has doomed them without anyone else’s help.

It’s weird to look at this episode on the TARDIS wiki and see the Dots and Man-Traps listed as the main enemy. Because really, it’s Lindy who is the real monster. It’s Hoochy Pie and her wack-ass trumpet. Also, can we not come up with a better name than Man-Trap? What about Erascists? They erase e-racists. Just some good little sluggy bois taking out the trash. I stan a king. The Dots hate those evil trust fund dickweeds, and honestly, same. Evidently, the name Man-Trap was introduced in Doctor Who Unleashed, which for the 4th week in a row, I’ve forgotten to watch. One of the side-effects of Doctor Who’s screwy release schedule is that now I completely forget Doctor Who Unleashed even exists. One benefit, however, is that I often get to rewatch the episodes the next day with my partners who didn’t want to stay up late. The benefit is that I’ll notice things I missed the first time. It also allows me to experience the stories for what they are, as opposed to what I expected them to be.

Being able to watch “Dot and Bubble,” with hindsight has given me an even greater appreciation for this story. Over time, I feel people will eventually regard it as one of Davies’ best. Its tone and themes remind me of something you would find in the Seventh Doctor era, which is high praise coming from me. Ricky feels like the promise of a character like Pex from “Paradise Towers,” properly realised. Hopefully, like the graffiti says- “Pex lives.” Dylan Holmes Williams does a fabulous job directing as the episode wastes nothing. It’s a Doctor-lite episode that manages not to waste a moment of screen time with the Doctor. In less than five minutes, Gatwa manages to be the command performance in an episode of solid performances. But much like “The Fugitive of the Judoon,” this strong episode remains feeling unresolved due to the plotline still hanging over its head. Once we have the hindsight of knowing how it fits into the greater storyline, it could appreciate in value. One can only hope.

[bagopucks]

Blurbs

Quinn Hughes x Reader

You guys know like.. how some porches are closed in? With either like, screens or they’re fancy with glass? I live for those. So yeah.. this isn’t exactly dancing in the rain, but it’s dancing on your enclosed porch in the rain, cuz Quinn’d be damned before he was getting wet for no reason.

“She’s Always A Woman” - Billy Joel

✄————————————

She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes

“Babe?”

I looked up from my book, spotting Quinn standing in the open doorway. I glared. He flinched, catching sight of the novel in my hands.

“I interrupted?”

“I’ll allow it. Step into my chambers, Quinner.”

That natural frown on his lips quickly turned upwards into a smile. Though a crack of thunder caused his smile to falter when he noticed the way it made me jump.

And she can ruin your faith with her casual lies

“Watcha reading?”

“Our love story.” The joke, however senseless, made him scoff out a laugh.

And she only reveals what she wants you to see

She hides like a child but she's always a woman to me

“Hand it over.”

I watched him approach, and I was quick to shove the book beneath my body, effectively sitting on it.

“What the hell?” Quinn’s smile widened as he tried to move me off the novel. I swatted his hands away.

A rumble of thunder interrupted our game, and my head turned to look out one of the many windows on our porch. I gasped and laughed when Quinn practically pushed me onto my side, slipping the book out from beneath me.

She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you

She can ask for the truth but she'll never believe you

“Quinn! Give it back!” I shot up from the chair to reach for my book. He held it high above his head.

“Only if you kiss me first.”

And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free

I rolled my eyes, swift to lean forward to press a kiss to his lips. Then without warning, pulled away and hopped up to snatch my book from his hand.

Yeah, she steals like a thief, but she's always a woman to me

Quinn reached for me before I stepped out of his grasp. I took swift backwards steps behind the wicker porch couch I’d been sitting on, Quinn standing on the other side with a calculating look on his face, accompanied by that contagious smile.

Oh, she takes care of herself, she can wait if she wants

She's ahead of her time

“Quinn! Just leave it alone. It’s a stupid romance novel.. alright?” I tried not to laugh at the absurdity of our childishness.

“Come on! This has to be one of your weird sex books.”

Oh, and she never gives out and she never gives in

“It is not!” Another crack of thunder made me jump

“Is too!”

She just changes her mind

“Maybe it is!”

My response caught him off guard, but Quinn always told me that’s why he loved me so much. I was unpredictable. In a reasonable way.

“Let me see it!”

“Would you just forget about the book?”

Quinn rolled his eyes and held his hands up in defeat. I was slow to make my way back around the couch.

And she'll promise you more than the garden of Eden

Then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding

But she'll bring out the best and the worst you can be

Blame it all on yourself 'cause she's always a woman to me

I was cautious. He could tell. “Just put the book down. Okay? I’m done.” Quinn insisted, so I trusted him. I carefully placed the novel down on one of the cushions. He seemed to have assumed I let my guard down, because he was swift to try and slip by me. I grabbed ahold of both his hands and spun him around to face the opposite direction of the couch. When I let him go, Quinn turned back to me with an incredulous look.

He only acted like this around me. That eldest sibling behavior didn’t apply in our relationship. He was able to be a kid at heart when he wanted to.

“Give up yet?” I taunted.

Oh, she takes care of herself, she can wait if she wants

She's ahead of her time

Oh, and she never gives out and she never gives in

“Okay. I’m really done this time.”

She just changes her mind

“Good.” A flash of lightning lit up the dim room. I jumped, and Quinn finally closed the distance between us to wrap his arms around my body. Protecting me from a silly fear. One that he realized he could not distract me from with funny games.

She is frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.” He tried to sway us.

But she can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool

“Quinn, I’m fine.” I always felt embarrassed, perhaps a bit tense when Quinn felt he needed to take care of me at times like these. I resisted his attempts to loosely slow dance with me, adamant on pulling away.

“Just let me hold you.”

And she can't be convicted, she's earned her degree

“Quinn.” I wiggled my arms between us to push at his chest.

“No.” He held onto me tighter, his chin coming to rest on top of my head.

And the most she will do is throw shadows at you

But she's always a woman to me

“Fine.” I huffed, melting at the way Quinn began to continue to sway back and forth. I followed his movements this time, my hands ceased their pushing to rest softly against his chest. Quinn hummed along to the tune of the song in the background, playing through my phone on the table. No matter how out of tune he was, I enjoyed his voice, and the warmth of being in his arms. We swayed in endless circles, until finally Quinn pulled away and guided me inside, holding onto my hand.

“Let’s go to bed.”

[enjoyerofsoup]

listening to ep 100 of riptide and thinking about the parallels of the encounters with jay’s dad

in their first encounter, at the block, jayson ferin (grizzly, man, i’m sorry but why does it have to be spelled that way) knows exactly what to say to intimidate jay. he ridicules her choice to become a pirate, insults her friends. but he also shames her for having left featherbrook island. for “leaving her mother all by her lonesome.” jay’s response is that her mother can handle herself, though her father continues on, speaking at her rather than to her.

the majority of the conversation, jay pleads more than argues. she doesn’t need to prove him wrong. she just needs to convince him to let her friends live. she doesn’t move to attack or defend, just walks up to her dad, head down, and puts her fist on his chest. she immediately surrenders. says she’ll return home, do what he says, begging him to let the others go.

this doesn’t pan out of course. gillion acts, fights against jayson for the sake of his friend, for her freedom. but jay’s internal conflict, the secret she’s spent all this time lying about, her genuine care for her friends but her want to somehow appease her father, to find out what happened to ava. there’s uncertainty. and jayson sees this, and uses it to punish them. by forcing her to punish them. there’s nothing else she can do.

she shoots gillion in the chest.

in episode 100, as the crew has just left zero, they’re ambushed by the navy. as jay’s father lands on their ship to arrest them, something is different. jay has committed to her choice, to her co-captains and her crew. jay speaks against him.

“you shouldn’t be here.”

jayson ferin doesn’t know his wife is sick, that her magic is leaving her. jay herself has only just found out, but it makes sense that she hasn’t been able to return home as a wanted pirate. jayson doesn’t have that same excuse, yet he’s been absent for years. he doesn’t visit home often, not even before jay left to be a pirate.

when her father asks why, jay says “of course you wouldn’t know. always blind to everything around you, especially your family.”

he speaks as if he’s looking past her, trying to separate the person he sees from the daughter he raised. trying not to think about how much she looks like ava.

“my family would never forsake their duty on some immature whim of emotion. i see no family-“

jay interrupts him. “yeah? and what about mom? you ever once think to look over her? check in on her maybe?”

and jayson’s response is what really stands out to me.

“my wife can take care of herself. how dare you use her to provoke me. is this how far you have fallen?”

he’s contradicting his words in the block. not that he really meant what he said, as he didn’t truly care about jay leaving her mother. he cared about controlling the situation, and his wife was an easy card to play to make jay feel guilty.

as jay challenges her father, he assumes she’s trying to play the same game. weaponize their remaining family to gain control. she isn’t.

“when was the last time you saw her?”

jayson ferin is silent.

“i saw her a week ago. she’s very sick, dad.”

he doesn’t seem to even consider that she’s telling the truth. skirting around the subject to insult jay’s character before addressing it.

“try to trick me all you want. but it will not be me who dies a fool. and do not dare use my wife to bargain.”

“that’s just like you, dad. just like you to think i’d use mom as a bargaining chip and not tell you out of pure concern for her. i would’ve stayed and helped. but, y’know, you have so much navy on the island no i couldn’t even do that for mom.”

there’s such a contrast in how jay holds her self during the block and now. her father never allowed her to be her own person, wouldn’t have acknowledged it even if she’d tried to do so. and she knew that in the block, knew it long before she left featherbrook. it may have been easier had she gone back home with jayson after the block, but it would have been a betrayal. not just to her crew, but herself. she knows better now. knows what she wants and what she’s worth.

“so you know what? you continue to do your thing. be a bad husband, be a bad father, i don’t care. right now? i’m gonna get you off my ship.”

and she shoots at him.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I am a predicament man, Miphlink Trash happens to intrigue me. However, it that one has already been in an ask or you wish to change things up, Blood of the Hero sounds interesting.

I wrote this when the Miphlink brain rot was absolutely eating me alive lol. Also because any time I've ever ran into "Mipha gives birth" scenes it's always this simple little "out pops the egg and we're fine :D" thing and just... as someone who has seen mothers in labor... no. Just no. LOL. Also, let Link be weirded out! Everyone writes him as being totally fine with his wife laying eggs and like... it's unnatural to Hylians anyway, and most dads are weirded out by natural and normal births. Doesn't mean he's gonna love his kid any less. Anyway, enough rambling, here's a snippet lol:

Link had known that it would be different. He knew the Zora laid eggs, and from there the child would develop and hatch and become far more akin to what he was used to as a Hylian. But he’d never seen a Zora egg – they were all kept here, a place that had been forbidden to him until today. It looked strange, almost transluscent, each egg in varying shades that resembled Zora scale tones. None of the ones in the same pool were as big as Mipha’s, but some in other pools seemed to be. All the eggs stirred occasionally, nearly scaring Link out of his skin, though the manner in which they did varied. In other pools the eggs simply seemed to rock, whereas the one where his child was all the eggs moved a little in shape.

“The shells harden over time,” Naran explained as she approached him. “They’re very malleable during birth to make the process easier, but they harden to protect the child afterward.”

A womb outside the womb, he supposed, and the thought made the process a little less… foreign and strange. He couldn’t take his eyes off the egg, wondering if the baby could hear all of them just like Hylian babies supposedly could while being carried by their mothers.

What was in store for this child? What kind of father would Link be? How would he protect the child? Anxieties old and new started to plague him, interrupted only when Naran offered to hold the egg for him for just a moment. She carefully pulled it out of the water, and Link found he didn’t know what to say or do, so he leaned in and gently kissed it. He very clearly felt a little hand press against him, and he gasped, jumping back.

Goddess there really is a baby in there. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that, in theory, but still… Link leaned over again, a smile pulling at his lips now as he stared in wonder, and he whispered, “Hello, little one.”

Naran carefully placed the egg back in the water and put a hand on his shoulder. “Congratulations again, my prince.”

It was finally Link’s turn to let out an emotional laugh, eyes stinging with tears, and he found himself running back to Mipha to hug her. His wife held him in return, giggling into his shoulder, and there they stayed until the moon was high in the sky. Afterward, they were given one last chance to look at the child they’d created together before they were escorted outside. Link carried Mipha, as she was still absolutely worn out, and the two settled in a nearby spring, close enough that the midwives could reach them and check on Mipha, which they did religiously through the night. He held her all night, letting her rest, keeping her safe and admiring how she had managed to do such a thing and then act as if it was normal and everything was fine. Hylia above, women were built different.

[romione-trope-fest]

Title: Go For Two

Author: Edie K.

Trope: Cockblocker Harry (one trick pony)

Rating: Teen

Summary: Harry interrupts a clandestine snogging session. AU HBP

AN: Thanks to adenei for the beta help fleshing this out. And alternative title is Cockblock Inception.

~~~~~~

“We really can’t be out much longer. It’ll look suspicious if patrols are this late,” Hermione whispered, as Ron moved his lips along her neck.

“Just. Ten. More. Minutes.” Ron punctuated each word with a kiss before moving to a spot just behind her ear.

“Mmm, okay. Ten minutes. A lot can be accomplished in ten minutes,” she replied as she let her fingers flirt with the waistband of his trousers.

The door to their secluded second floor classroom was ripped open with a force so great that it banged against the wall.

“Fuck!” yelled Ron, turning toward the entrance.

“Harry!” shrieked Hermione, hopping off the desk she had been sitting on.

Harry slammed the door closed behind him. “Thank Merlin I found you!”

Both Ron and Hermione’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”

Harry panted. “Nothing’s wrong, I just… bloody hell.”

“Why are you breathing so hard?”

“I was in the dorm, watching Malfoy on the map. Since you two were on rounds, I thought it was a good time to see if I could figure out where he was going.”

Hermione sighed. “Harry…”

“By the way, what are you two doing in here?” Harry asked, looking around the dusty classroom.

Hermione flushed. “Oh, we—”

“What was Malfoy doing?” Ron interrupted.

“I don’t know! I was watching and he suddenly disappeared off the map. So then I started poking my head in classrooms and… well.”

Harry’s face suddenly bloomed a shade of red that put Ron to shame on his worst day.

“So what was Malfoy up to?”

“I didn’t find him. It was someone else.”

“What?”

“I uh, I saw Lavender and Parvati.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed. “What are they doing in a classroom after curfew?”

Harry gave a little chuckle. “Uh, snogging.”

“WHAT?” yelped Ron, voice cracking.

“Snogging?” asked Hermione.

Harry nodded.

Ron shook his head. “Wait, wait. Is this like when they went through that phase in fourth year where they were acting like they were French to impress those Beauxbatons students and gave everyone the two quick kisses on each cheek?”

“Definitely not cheeks and definitely not quick.”

“Was there tongue?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I was more distracted by the hands under clothes.”

“Oh fuck, are you seri—OW!”

Ron rubbed the arm that Hermione had just swatted.

“Don’t be gross!”

“I’m not being gross, I’m trying to assess the situation. We’re prefects, aren’t we?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “How would you feel if—I just mean that they deserve some discretion, even if they were breaking the rules.”

Harry sighed. “I hope they don’t think I’m going to tell anyone. Other than you two of course.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “They know you saw them?”

“Yeah. I tried to leave quietly but then I knocked a set of scales off a desk and that got their attention. I just lied that I was looking for you guys and ran for it. Merlin, this is so embarrassing.”

Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed her temple before responding. “Harry, they’re probably much more embarrassed than you and maybe even a bit nervous that you’ll tell everyone. They’re obviously hiding it for a reason.”

“Hermione, will you talk to them for me tonight? Tell them I won’t say anything. I’ll forget I ever saw anything,” Harry pleaded, hands clasped together.

Ron chuckled. “How?”

Hermione shot him a dirty look. “I’ll assure them that none of us will say a word.”

Harry exhaled and nodded. “Thanks.”

“You need to get back to the common room, Harry. Ron and I will finish up our rounds.”

“Yeah. See you up there.” Harry glanced at the map before opening the door slowly and stuck his head out. Once he seemed satisfied the coast was clear, he crept out, letting the door close behind him.

Ron threw his hands up, shaking his head in disbelief. “How does he always manage to find us and interrupt us? I swear Hermione, he knows we’re together and he’s taking the mickey. That’s the third time in two weeks! At least today he had a good reason.”

Hermione glared at Ron, hands on her hips. “You were awfully interested in my roommates.”

Ron threw his hands up, lips curving up slightly. “Oi, what do you expect?”

“It’s just so cliche. They aren’t together for your entertainment.”

Ron reached for her hips and pulled her toward him. “I know but here I am, kissing my gorgeous girlfriend, who had quite the set of wandering hands when Harry burst in the door and started going on about two attractive, albeit significantly less beautiful witches snogging. I mean, you can’t blame a bloke for having some questions.”

Hermione huffed as she threaded her arms around his neck. “Such a typical man.”

Ron leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. “You like it,” he muttered against her mouth.

Instead of answering him, Hermione moved closer, deepening the kiss for a moment before pulling away. “We can’t get too caught up. Harry is expecting us.”

Ron groaned but took a step back. “So you really didn’t suspect there was anything going on between them?”

“Not at all. I thought Lavender had a crush on you!”

Ron furrowed his brow. “Why do you think they’re hiding it?”

Hermione pushed her hair out of her eyes as she considered the question. “Probably for the same reasons we are.”

Ron snorted. “What, they’re also worried Harry will fall back into his brooding fifth year dramatics? I appreciate their consideration for us.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Not Harry specifically. I just meant that they likely don’t know how accepting everyone would be of their relationship.”

“Is it going to be weird for you?”

“Would it be weird for you if it were Seamus and Neville?”

“Kinda. I mean, snog whoever you want but it would feel strange to have roommates dating. Why do you think they were in a classroom though?”

“What do you mean?”

“Draw the curtains on one of their beds, cast some charms and you have all the privacy you need. Instead, they’re in a classroom, getting interrupted by Ha—” Ron’s words trailed off as he broke into laughter.

“What?”

Ron’s shoulders shook as he spoke. “I can’t believe that Harry cockblocked us so that he could tell us about how he cockblocked Lavender and Parvati.”

“Co—honestly Ron, must you be so crude?” Hermione said, biting back a smile.

“I guess technically he didn’t cockblock Lavender and Parvati because, you know. It was more of a—”

“Finish that vulgar thought and Harry won’t be able to block anything for quite some time.”

He chuckled and took a step closer. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted? I think you said something about giving me ten more minutes.”

“I think ten minutes have passed,” she smiled

Ron tucked her hair behind her ear and let his hand linger on her face. “Don’t you know the rules? An interruption by Harry restarts the clock.

Her fingers circled his wrist as she tilted her face up toward his. “In that, I believe I said a lot can be accomplished in ten minutes.”

[mimiccry]

“Teach me to dance”

a/n : this is pretty much just that dancing scene from Enola Holmes II but it’s you and Heizou. the ending may be a tad rushed.

notes/warnings : Enola Holmes au, fluff? subtle(?) fluff, no physical description of reader but they’re implied to be dancing the feminine part, [Name] instead of Y/N, mutual pining, dancing, no confession, just. Tension?(????) I think?? enjoy reading!

word count : 1440

———————————————————————————

“I need you to teach me to dance.”

“Teach you to dance? Wha- When?”

“Teach me to dance now.” You confirmed.

“Wh… You know I’ve been able to dance since I was little, right?” He was physically taken aback at your blunt request - no, order. You offered a very forced, sweet smile in return.

“Good! I was worried you’d be a terrible teacher.” You march towards him assertively before he stops you by your shoulders.

“[Name], what are you doing here?” He sighs. You knew it wouldn’t be this easy. For what you and him have been through with your first ever case, you got to know him better than anyone. Probably more than his family, even. He tended to prefer his solitude at home as well, didn’t he?

A crucial thing you learned from him was that he was quite stubborn, and always questioned your ideas.

•••

“You need to get off this boat, now.” You tell him firmly.

“What?”

“There is a group of men searching for you at this very second. They’re trying to get you off this vessel.” You recall the well-dressed Fatui officers who didn���t seem the least bit interested in their destination or keeping to their own cabin as you walked towards your own. He seems unfazed by your revelation.

“Huh. Seems like my intuition was right after all.” He chuckles to himself. You feel your frustration flaring up at the urgency of the situation, an imminent danger looming over his head, both of your heads. And here he was, acting nonchalant about it. Your brows furrow.

“Well, my intuition is telling me that you will be hurt, or dead if you stay here any longer. You’re coming with me, Mr. Shikanoin.” You grab a hold of his arm and try to lead him out of the cabin, but he stands his ground and pries himself from your grasp. He narrows his eyes at the mention of his name.

“I’m not going anywhere, stranger. Whether you think I am in danger, or not.” He crossed his arms. You give up. You don’t have the time to deal with someone like him, and if you stay any longer, you’d have matching headstones with him.

“Have it your way then.”

•••

Memories of his bruised and tired self amidst a fight that you had interrupted flash in your mind. The waters below rapidly nearing you next.

The waves tenderly nudging your tired body ashore third.

And the moment you reluctantly part from each other the first time.

You realize you can confide in him what you are doing.

“I’m looking for a murderer.

…

And it is crucial for me to investigate here.”

“With a dance?” He stifles his laughter.

“Please, Heizou.”

He looks off to the side for a moment of mild apprehension. You are almost certain he is going to refuse, when-

“Hold your back straight.” He says. You straighten your back as if a string were pulling you from your spine to the sky. He adjusts his stance in front of you.

“Now I’ll place my hand here,” he holds his left hand out for you, and you follow him, putting your hand on his delicately.

“and here.” He moves his other hand from your shoulder to your waist.

You try to stand as still as humanly possible.

“Hold your arm out.” He instructs, guiding your free arm out to the side elegantly.

“Good.” He smiles gently, putting his hand back on your waist in preparation.

“Now, I will lead, and you will follow.”

“That seems like a poor idea.”

He ignores your comment.

“Face over my shoulder.” You lift your chin up towards his right shoulder. He takes a deep breath before continuing.

“And now…one, two, three.” His steps guide your own in a tight rhythmic pattern across the tile floor.

“One, two, three.” He murmurs repeatedly, your steps synchronizing with his own and his voice. He pauses his counting.

“Good.” He says. He starts leading you around the room with the same steps, drawing circles around the room and spinning around each other occasionally, like gears.

“You’ve…changed a bit since we last spoke.” He thinks aloud.

…two, three, one, two, three.

“But you’ve been all over, haven’t you?”

One, two, three.

“I’ve noticed you, everywhere. Why have you been following me?”

He had a hunch what the correct answer was, but chose not to press you further.

The steps were now flowing freely without thought, so you push your focus on your dance to the back of your mind to respond.

“Ive just been keeping an eye on you, in case you get yourself into any more trouble. Such as, nearly getting thrown overboard-“

“[Name]-”

“-you cannot be trusted to take care of yourself.” You conclude defensively. Your dance stops and breaks apart.

“I’m much stronger now, you know.” He says. You lightly scoff at him.

“And yet you’re still as stubborn as usual.” You turn to walk away, but he maintains a hold of your hand to pull you back towards him.

“And the trouble I find myself in is much easier to handle now.” He states, his eyes looking firmly at your own. He then slowly blinks, relaxing, and he takes a hold of your waist again.

“Now come on.” He began leading you into the dance once more.

“One, two, three,”

One, two, three.

“One, two, thr- Look into my eyes.” He interjects. You look up at him carefully.

“The rhythm is always there.”

‘One, two, three.’

“I never understood why dancing was required for me.” He says, while you spin around together.

“The idea that I was expected to dance with anyone should the opportunity present itself.” He sways you around beside him.

“But, I guess you’re not just anyone.” He admits, and you feel like cupid has shot an arrow at your heart. He turns you around, making it so your arms were crossed in front of you.

He then lets go of your hands to twirl himself.

“Feel it?” He asks. You feel as if you’re in a trance, and you’re hyper aware of the still quiet flowing through the room, save for your dancing and voices.

“I can.” You nod. No witty comeback, no jabs at his chest. The two of you fall back into motion with each other, turning and stepping around the room. You let yourself lean a bit closer to him and move your left hand onto his left shoulder for support before moving back to twirl. Then back in again. Heizou smiles,

“Good…”

The air around you feels tense, but your body still feels as loose as ever while you dance with him.

“You dance well.” He compliments you.

“Perhaps I have a good teacher.

I must admit, a bit better than I expected.” He laughs lightly at your response. Silence falls over you two again.

Step back, twirl, back in. Keep going.

Your eyes, like they’re glued to his, keep looking back at them. Those olive eyes entrance you as you keep twirling away, only to come back once again. Your every action is in synch with his; you know the dance by heart. No, not your heart. It’s preoccupied at the moment with something else.

He is looking at you carefully. This cautiousness then shifts to a subtle tenderness, and you suddenly feel like you’re melting. Was it from his warm hands? But you didn’t have time to ponder the thought for long.

Vigorous knocking on the door awakens the two of you from your trance. You both freeze and stare at each other for a moment, then scurry to grab your belongings. You look over to him to see if he’s alright, and see him do a strange gesture towards you with a stray fan on the vanity.

“What did that mean? T-The fan motion.” You’re suddenly very nervous and want to leave as soon as possible. He grins.

“You’ll learn.”

You rush to leave the room as you try to think of a cover story for the lineup you are absolutely sure is outside. You open the door and dust yourself off in front of the people.

“Excuse the wait, but my good friend here had a ripped seam on his attire.” The people in line give you strange looks, which follow you and Heizou out of the hallway. As you walk down the stairs towards the dance floor, you try to shake the scene that had just occurred from your mind. Well, except for what he taught you. You refocus your mind on your investigation, and pay close attention to the people around the room.

———————————————————————————

a/n: after writing this I realized that it would really fit Kazuha, since he’s from a noble family yet still connected with nature, much like Tewksbury in the films. But the detective themes held me on to writing Heizou instead lol.

Lmk if you want me to make a Kazuha version too

[vendoramachine]

we’re through.

veneer x male reader

i had to feed my veneer gentlemen too! angst makes me ill, so writing this one was REAL tough.

notes : angst, breakup, argument, everything is just depressing as fuck.

veneer and i were hanging out in their dressing room before the show and a knock on the door interrupted our conversation.

“knock, knock! showtime, you two!” someone called out to velvet and veneer. my boyfriend and i got up from the couch, and i planted a kiss on his cheek.

“good luck, handsome. you’re gonna be great.” he let out a dumb giggle like a lovesick idiot. “i’ll be out in a sec, i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” i announced before rushing to veneer’s private bathroom. while i washed my hands, i heard a muffled conversation between my boyfriend and his sister. i really couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the conversation soon ended and was replaced by the eruption of cheers from the crowd.

feeling in my pockets, i realized that i had left my phone on the couch in their dressing room. before taking my vip seat in the crowd, i was snagged up my phone and was going to head out, until i heard a voice.

“y-y/n!” someone called out. the voice was faint and weak, so i wasn’t sure if i was hearing things. i looked around the room, scanning for someone who might’ve said my name.

“y/n, over here!” on the floor, there was a diamond perfume bottle. what the hell? i crouched down to pick it up and look at what was inside.

“…hi? who are you?”

“i’m f-floyd. listen to me, y/n! velvet and veneer- they’re insane! they kidnapped me and trapped me here to steal my talent.”

“what? dude, i…” every bit of my heart begged to not believe him, but why else would he be here?

“you’ve gotta help me get outta here. they want to kidnap my brothers too! i’m literally dying, man. i don’t know how much more they can take from me before it’s too late. please. help me.”

thoughts spun around my head. is floyd telling the truth? why else would he be here? but velvet and veneer wouldn’t hurt innocent creatures… right?

“i know you love veneer, and i know it may sound hard to believe, but i don’t want to die like this, y/n. once i’m gone-“

“i’m gonna help you, floyd. veneer and i need to have a serious talk. they have one more show tomorrow, do you think you’ll make it till then?” floyd nodded, and i set the bottle down right where i found it.

“i promise i’m gonna get you out of there.” i refused to let my eyes water before heading out into the audience. despite being deafening with cheers and applause for the pop star duo, everything felt silent. all i could hear was the sound of my boyfriend’s voice. charming and perfect, but also knowing that it wasn’t true. i sat down in my seat, bouncing my knee up and down for the rest of the show.

after what felt like eternity, they said their goodbyes to the audience, which was my cue to join them again backstage. my fists clenched and my teeth gritted against each other as i walked through their dressing room door. i prayed with every ounce of myself that what floyd told me wasn’t true.

“veneer?” my eyes darted to where floyd was earlier, and i realized that he was no longer there. they must’ve hidden him.

“babe! hey, are you alright? i was watching you in the crowd and you seemed kinda out of it. is everything okay?” veneer ran over to be face to face. i can’t believe he’s acting so oblivious. if i had been committing a crime like this, i’d always be paranoid that someone found out.

“…no. not really. we need to talk.” the seriousness in my tone put veneer off. he looked uneasy, but tried to play it off by sitting on the couch and patting the spot beside him, indicating for me to sit down as well. i stayed standing right in front of him.

“uh, yeah, sure! what’s up?”

“how long have you been lying, veneer?” silence followed, but i could hear veneer choking on his own words.

“w-what do you mean, babe?”

“you know exactly what i mean, veneer. how long have you been torturing innocent creatures? and for what? for fame? popularity? and not only did you lie right to my face, but you lied to all of mount rageous.” i refused to let tears fall, but i could feel them stinging my eyes.

veneer stared at me, looking shocked. guilty. he really doesn’t have a good explanation. well, of course. what could possibly justify something as shitty as this?

“they love you, ven. i love you, but…” fuck. i was doing so good, being direct and non-emotional. then this lump in my throat decides that it wants to screw me over emotionally. fuck you, feelings.

“i-i’m… i’m sorry, y/n. please, i…” he stood up, trying to wrap my into his arms. all i wanted was to feel him, but i took a step back. “…i never wanted to hurt anyone.”

“but you hurt everyone. even me. you should’ve told me before i had to find out.” tears were streaming down his face at this point, and i could see his knees trembling.

“y/n, please just listen to me…” veneer placed his hand on my shoulder, and the other cupped me cheek. not even a knife to my throat would get me to admit how much i needed his touch in this moment. “…i really never meant it to get this far. this was all velvet’s idea, and i still don’t feel comfortable with doing it. you know my sister. she would never let me let him go.” he looked to his right, presumably where floyd was being kept hidden. i blinked away tears, swatting his hand off of me.

“maybe, but ven, this is a crime and you’re risking getting caught every second you keep that poor troll here.”

“i want to let him go, but-“

“but you need him, don’t you? for the money? for the fame? you need him in order to make sure the world never finds out that you can’t sing, ven.”

“y/n, you aren’t listening to me! this isn’t about the fame, it’s about my sister. if i let him go, velvet would kill me. if i refused to use him, velvet would dig my grave. if i even just suggested that we let him go, velvet would-“

“god, veneer, you can’t pin all of this on velvet! i know her, and i know what you’re saying is true, but think about this! you’re putting a life at risk because you’re scared of your own sister! doesn’t that sound like maybe you two have something to work out?”

“don’t tell me how my relationship with my sister should be like.”

the shift in his tone made my stomach turn. it sounded nothing like him. veneer took notice of my expression change, and his eyes softened, like he knew he should watch his tone.

“listen to me, y/n. i love my sister, and i’m doing this for her.” he took both my hands, staring down at them. his own trembled as his tears dripped onto my skin. god, why does he have to make this so fucking difficult? i feel horrible. i know veneer knows this is wrong. but in the end, i have to come to terms with the fact that he’s still using floyd. he’s still sucking the life out of an innocent troll just so he can keep the taste of fame on his tongue.

he’s my boyfriend and i love him so goddamn much, but this… this is horrible. i can’t stand the thought of staying with someone who can walk onto a stage and lie to the world. someone who is preying on a defenseless creature to gain popularity, money, fame, and power. hesitantly, i slipped my hands out his grasp, the warmth of his skin fading away. finally, for the first time during this conversation, tears streamed from my eyes.

“we’re through, veneer.”

there was a long silence. every second was torture.

“you don’t mean that, y/n… i don’t want to lose you, i…”

“i’m sorry, ven. i just… can’t.”

i raced out, not able to handle the sight of hurt on my boyfriend’s face.

days later, after sobbing myself to sleep every night since we broke up, i realized it was the night that velvet and veneer would receive the lifer award. reluctantly, i watched the live broadcasting through tears. though my vision was blurred with the purest form of heartbreak, i could see veneer’s face. his expression was of pride, like he was completely unbothered. he broke my heart, murdering an innocent creature, and all at the expense of fame. yet, he didn’t seem troubled. at all.

i had soon realized that in my wallow of depression, i forgot to let floyd go. fuck. barely any time passed before velvet and veneer were dragged away in handcuffs.

we really are through.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

However grand our sacramental downsittings and updressings may be, they remain only and precisely sacraments: real presences, under particular signs, of the happier order that faith can discover under any and all signs. They're a bit like the church. As long as we see them as an earnest of the kingdom, they're all right; when we put on airs and act as if they were the kingdom itself, they look just silly.

- Robert Farrar Capon 

So I get asked about how to do a more formal dinner party by my followers. I don’t know what impression I’ve given to make people think that I am an expert but I shall endeavour to present some thoughts around my own beliefs and experiences. I’m sure there are some things I have left out or have temporarily escaped my mind, so do please bear with me.

It is sadly the case that the age of the formal dinner might be over for some but for others they bravely soldier on flying the flag for civilised discourse over dinner.

Yet the reality remains that for many, eating at home with friends or family, or even a volatile mix of the two, is still hugely popular and important. Even if one is throwing a casual dinner party with a laidback “I’m just doing a bit of food” nonchalance, it still needs to be navigated with careful sensitivity. 

My rough guide to a good dinner party:

Don’t become a victim of vaunting ambition. Assess your culinary skills and budget before tailoring your social dinner occasion to fit your capabilities. Under no circumstances attempt a maiden voyage. It might seem like a good idea to try a new recipe for your guests, but there are few things sadder than realising that the pork was supposed to have been butterflied by a butcher or rest for four hours...45 minutes before guests arrive.

Send invitations if you can. The more formal the dinner the better you should send an invitation. Make clear (on the invitation preferably) on the time of arrival so that guests are punctual. Except if you’re hosting a dinner party in France then expect French guests to arrive 15 minutes late. While in many countries this may be considered rude, in France this is a golden rule. It’s an unspoken agreement between the host and the guest because the host might be a little late preparing everything and the guest won’t want to embarrass the host by arriving early. Strangely this rule only applies to dinner parties and not for dinners at restaurants. Hmmm.

Make the nature of the dinner event absolutely clear to your guests. They will feel understandably annoyed if they turn up to a formal dinner in jeans and sneakers.

Make sure your drinks cabinet is well stocked. Don’t ever rely on your guests to bring anything. Make sure you choose a different wine to go with each course you are serving. But don’t get too hung up on the food and wine pairing - one can always ask the wine merchant who is both helpful and is dying to show off his knowledge.

Work out your timings. Don’t let drinks go on too long and ensure that food is ready when you call everyone to the table. 

Always have a seating plan. Even if it’s an informal one in your head, explain to your guests where you would like them to sit. Chemistry between guests is everything. Choose wisely.

Don’t apologise for the food being served. You made it. You own it. 

Remember that your primary role is to be the host/hostess. Attend to your guests at all times and don’t allow yourself to be drawn into an intimate tête à tête with someone. It’s rude to give one guest all the attention at the expense of others feeling a little adrift in their seat.

Play the diplomat at dinner. Lively conversation will no doubt wander to the realm of politics, and whether it’s divisive or just plain dull, a good hostess can re-route a boring or inelegant conversation deftly and effortlessly. The best way to steer the conversation if it strays too deeply into politics, religion, or someone’s burgeoning sex life is to politely interject and offer, “Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if I could get everyone’s opinion on X,” and people will be happy to oblige. You invite people into a topic that’s about you and it’s a clear note to the offenders to change course. Important to note also it is perhaps the only time you ever make yourself the subject of the conversation. The role of the hostess is to move the conversation along effortlessly without becoming the centre of attention.

Deploy subtle hints by asking if anyone would like: cups of coffee, offers of taxi service or spare beds, if the evening is going on too long.

Don’t let the guests do dishes - unless they're related to you or they're psychotically compulsive. If they are neither, you might be calling their bluff on an empty offer, and then you've made your guest use your ratty sponge, which is not a very gracious experience.

Most of all, breathe and relax. It will all go swimmingly. Just enjoy yourself.

Bon appétit!