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distantdarlings · 6 months ago

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HIS OWN MEDICINE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

nobody - Toby Mai

- - -

“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.

After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.

But you were about to add another time.

“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”

“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”

“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.

You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.

As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.

The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.

“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”

It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.

“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.

“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”

“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”

“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”

“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.

“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”

“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.

You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).

You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.

“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.

“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”

“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”

There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.

“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.

“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.

“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.

“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”

Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.

With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.

***

Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.

After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.

Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.

A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.

His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.

A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.

Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.

Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.

Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.

Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.

Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.

Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.

“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.

“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”

His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.

“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”

“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.

“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.

“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.

“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.

“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.

You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.

“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”

“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.

“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.

You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.

Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.

The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.

An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.

“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

His jaw ticked.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”

“Feel what way?” he demanded.

“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.

“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.

“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“Was it Pansy?”

“What?”

He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”

You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.

“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.

“But, I–”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”

Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.

You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.

His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.

“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.

You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.

“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your core pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.

The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.

“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.

A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.

“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.

The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.

His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt delicious inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”

“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”

“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.

“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.

Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.

“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”

“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”

And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.

The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.

Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.

“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.

“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.

“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

Merlin.

- - -

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#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #fem reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodore nott #theo nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire

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regainingparadise · 2 months ago

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Relistening to TMA Season 5, I am again struck by how goddam badly Martin and Jon need couples counseling.

I love them both. I ship them very much. But oh lord they have issues

Like, these are two individuals who, under the very best of circumstances, would really need therapy both individually and together. They are both people with plentiful quantities of relational trauma from childhood that neither of them have worked through even the slightest bit.

And then you throw them into the apocalypse. And you add a metric fuck ton of guilt, helplessness, and the dynamics of being "The Antichrist and +1"?

On a surface level--Jon is in a perpetual state of information overload. Martin is in a perpetual state of "can you please just explain the basics of what's' going on in a given situation and not just say "it's complicated" or launch into a gruesome monologue"

But on a deeper level, their childhood relational traumas have left them each with opposing avoidant tendencies: Jon is unwilling to broach a difficult conversation, which leads him to hide information until he's confronted. Martin, on the other hand, has a finely honed ability to ignore information that he doesn't like until he no longer can hide from it.

Biggest example of their avoidance tendencies: Martin's Domain

Way early on, when we barely understand any of how the hellscape works, Jon mentions it, Martin shuts it down hard and deflects quickly with a bid for affection from Jon

Martin is in deliberate denial, but Jon admittedly wasn't particularly clear to start with.

"We all have a domain."

Jon means it, presumably, as "Me, You, and other 'Avatars.'" Jon is used to being grouped with those empowered by the Entities. Martin isn't. (see also: MAG185: Martin" Is that how these creatures see us now? As one of them?") But that's not what Jon says. And this is MAG167--they've only been through four domains, at least that we've seen. Jon is speaking from a place of knowledge, and assuming his listener has that same knowledge.

And when this issue comes up much later in MAG183, Martin has spent 17 episodes ignoring or forgetting that he has a domain, not letting that information in so that he has never processed it. (See also: Mag170: "Sometimes I wonder if I forget things on purpose. Easier not to think about them, I guess. Easier to just let them… slip away. They can’t hurt you if you don’t think about them.").

Martin confronts Jon on his avoidance (because while Martin may be good at ignoring things he doesn't like, he's far better at bringing up challenging topics), Jon is able to manage some A+ communication on his feelings and the genuine challenging of figuring out how to share upsetting information when he has All The Information, Martin accepts that. I just desperately want a therapist to be there and make them continue this conversation and practice ongoing good communication skills!

Though they resolve this, even though Jon has an explanation that makes sense...he was really leaving this conversation to the last minute. Would he have "[brought] it up at the crossroads" as he claims to Helen? Or would he have avoided it entirely, as she accuses, or waited till they were at the threshold, as he does with The Desolation and the Hunt, leaving Martin to confront terrifying situations without forewarning or planning or explanation.

Again, Jon kind of tried to bring up some of the potential issues with Basira and Daisy before entering the Hunt domain, but kept it Vague and Ominous ("Things aren't...good"). Martin took that vagueness as an opening to avoid engaging with potential bad news. The teensiest bit of therapy for either of them about their communication issues could have let Jon add "I know you're exited but FYI here are some specifics that you should know" and/or Martin go "I'm excited to see them but given that nothing is good right now, can you be more specific?"

Instead, Jon approaches difficult conversations by being Vague and Ominous, Martin gets snarky or passive-aggressive at the vagueness, upset or aggressively avoidant at the Ominousness, Jon closes back up like a turtle into his shell, and the conversation only comes back up when the situation has drastically escalated, leaving them both more upset.

Jon wants Martin to trust him, because explaining what he knows implicitly is an ordeal for him, and because his upbringing by his grandmother has suggested that communicating is generally unwanted and burdensome (See: MAG081 A Guest for Mr. Spider).

Martin wants to know what is going on, because he's in an awful hellscape of shifting rules about what can and cannot hurt them, completely dependent on a brand-new romantic partner for his survival and purpose, and also because his upbringing and coping mechanisms as a caretaker rely on him knowing enough to help, and his time as an archival assistant has given him some not-inconsiderable trauma about being left in the dark (See: MAG118 The Masquerade) (There's also another post in my head about how MAG118 primed Martin for both the Lonely and his development as a more confrontational character in S5)

All that to say.

Martin needs therapy to deal with the way he chooses not to absorb information he doesn't like. Jon needs therapy to understand that sometimes it's ok to bring up important topics even if the other person will be upset. They both need therapy to cope with all the guilt and helplessness around the apocalypse so they stop taking it out on each other. They need therapy together to learn how to work through their conflicting coping mechanisms.

#Look I love them #But they need so much therapy #Even in the most no powers fluffy AU fanfic #They really would need therapy #Jmart #teaholding #Jon Sims #Jonathan Sims #Martin Blackwood #Martin K Blackwood #the magnus archives #tma podcast #tma #tma meta #tma spoilers #making my english professor proud #Marfisa Thinks Things

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tiaramania · 10 months ago

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Tiaras of the future Queen Mary

I love a good list and @duchessofostergotlands requested one of the tiaras that Mary will wear as queen. As usual I had a lot to say.

Crown Jewels

Queen Caroline Amelie's Emerald Tiara

Denmark is unusual among modern monarchies in that they still have wearable jewelry in their crown jewels. There is a diamond set, a pearl and ruby set, and of course the beautiful emerald parure. This tiara cannot be taken outside of Denmark and is only worn by the queen. I really hope Mary wears it for her first official portrait as queen.

Major Tiaras: Non-Restricted

Princess Louise's Pearl Poiré Tiara

This tiara has only been worn by Queen Margrethe during her reign but previously was worn by crown princesses and princesses. It is a very important tiara but I wouldn't mind Queen Mary loaning this one occasionally to other people like Christian's future wife.

Queen Désirée's Ruby Parure Tiara

Queen Ingrid kept this tiara even after her husband passed and then left it to Crown Prince Frederik for his future wife so it was never worn by Queen Margrethe. I expect Crown Princes Mary will continue wearing this tiara for now as the parure was extensively remodeled to suit her. When Christian marries, she may decide to pass it on to his wife establishing it as the de facto crown princess tiara, keep wearing it herself, or ideally keep wearing it while also loaning it the future crown princess.

Minor Tiaras

We don't yet know how Queen Margrethe will handle passing on her jewelry. In other countries with recent abdications, Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands still attends tiara events but Queen Paola of Belgium and Queen Sofia of Spain do not. If Margrethe decides to keep attending them she may hold on to some of these for a while.

Grand Duchess Louise of Baden's Palmette Tiara

This isn't my favorite tiara in the Danish vault because of the way it ends so abruptly instead of tapering off. Queen Mary's going to have to pull off some great tiara hair to cover that up.

Crown Princess Margaret's Turquoise Daisy Tiara

Queen Mary looks good in turquoise but I'm really looking forward to seeing this tiara on Princess Isabella and Princess Josephine.

Queen Ingrid's Floral Aigrette Tiara

I've loved the way Queen Margrethe played around with this tiara but I am looking forward to Queen Mary putting it back on a tiara frame like Queen Ingrid wore it.

Queen Margrethe's Naasut Tiara

Queen Margrethe was given this tiara by Greenland in 2012 and I have been waiting for day it is worn by Queen Mary. I think the delicate gold flowers are really going to look great against her dark hair.

Personal Tiaras

Wedding Tiara

Queen Margrethe gave this tiara to Crown Princess Mary as a wedding gift and Mary later had optional pearls added.

Ruby & Spinel Necklace Tiara

Mary bought herself this tiara at an auction and debuted it 2015. I think it was a very smart move because it was only 8050 EUR (probably less than some of her gowns) and it will be a great piece for her children to wear in the future.

Every country and monarch handles jewelry a little differently. Queen Margrethe gave each of her daughters-in-law a tiara but did not share any of her tiaras with them. She did share with her nieces (the daughters of her two sisters) when her sisters didn't have enough tiaras to loan them for events. I would like to see the future King Frederik X and Queen Mary change how the jewelry is dispersed.

First of all they need to stop giving away jewelry. The mainline has already lost the Queen Alexandrine's Diamond Drop Tiara to the Countess of Frederiksborg and Princess Dagmar's Diamond Floral Tiara to Princess Marie. Those are both beautiful, versatile tiaras that would have served the family well in the future. In the previous generation, Princess Benedikte was given Queen Sofia's Star & Pearl Tiara and her Floral Birthday Tiara made from other jewelry and Queen Anne Marie was given Crown Princess Margaret's Khedive Tiara and her Antique Corsage Tiara made from other jewelry. There's no reason to give away tiaras anymore to people whose descendants will have little reason to wear them.

Then to make up for not giving away any jewelry there needs to be more sharing! I don't want to see the same person wear the same tiara to every event. Queen Mary will have the Emerald Tiara exclusively and then may choose to keep the Pearl Poiré Tiara and Ruby Parure Tiara to herself but everything else should be shared among her daughters, daughters-in-law, and other members of the extended Danish Royal Family. It would make things so much more interesting.

#Tiara Talk #Crown Princess Mary #Queen Mary #ugh I'm going to have to change her tag #Denmark #Danish Royal Family #I didn't include the Golden Poppies because I didn't want to #tiara #royal jewels #Queen Margrethe #Queen Margrethe II

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manias-wordcount · 7 months ago

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Roy Mustang with reader who struggles to accept love or affection in general? Like someone who may have got hurt in the past and now struggles to accept someone’s love even if they want it.

Thank you!

Beside Yourself (Roy Mustang x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆'𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗰! 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

You’ve been getting a lot of night shifts these past couple of months.

It’s not every day, but it’s the same days. A neat little schedule at the very least. And for the most part, you don’t really mind. At some point, the hour turns and it’s only the quiet type that enter the library. The ones who know exactly which sections they’re going. The ones who don’t need your assistance. The ones who you only need to speak to just to let them know that it’s 10 minutes before lock-up. But lately…

He’s been bringing you flowers at the end of your shift each day. Like clockwork. Never wrong. Never late. Never late. Like absolute clockwork.

“Oh, um…T-thank you, Colonel Mustang,” You find yourself murmuring as always. Your eyes are downcasted as always as you accept them. Your fingers reaching out timidly, despite the sense of familiarity he now radiates. For a moment, your fingers tip brush against his, and still time you’re shivering and letting out a tiny gasp instead of pulling your hands away. The look on his face tells you it’s not intentional- because Colonel Mustang has been nothing but a complete gentleman towards you since the beginning- but you don’t miss how his smile turns just a little encouraging as you don’t immediately run away. “They’re…they’re very pretty.”

“It’s Roy , sweetheart. You don’t need to use my rank with me. And of course,” He tells you gently, as if easing you into the compliment you know he was about to throw at you. “I thought of you when I saw them. I figured the ones in your kitchen might be wilting by now with the cold coming in.”

You nod, heat rising to cheeks as you recall the moment you must have overshared to him while he was walking you to your apartment. You had a good day- you were excited. But you were also starting to talk too much. Share too much. Say things that you know people don’t really care to listen to. Including how the weather is making the African Daisies he brought you not too long ago die a little faster than anticipated.

It should have felt good. It should have felt amazing . To be listened to. To have someone remember a spare detail you slipped out only a week prior. It does- it really, really does. But…

You’re scared.

You just are. And no amount of flowers and walk homes is going to change that. Not for you, at least. Even if you so desperately want to. Even if you so desperately want it. Want him . But you’re scared. Just…way too scared.

“Thank you…Mr. Roy,” You say again, trying your best to meet his eyes. But the look he gives you is a little too intense and almost too sweet for you to stand, so you advert your eyes very quickly once more and swallow down a nervous gulp. You don’t know what he sees in you. You really, really don’t. “We…we should get going. It’s…it’s getting rather late.”

“You already thanked me, sweetheart.” He reminds you with a chuckle, seeming very pleased that you used his first name like he had asked. It’s a chuckle that has your heart skipping a beat and your ears straining to hear one more time. And he’s nice about it- he always is. But instantly, you’re calling yourself names in your head and adjusting your grip on the long green flowers stems now safe in your hand, unbable to keep yourself still as the two of you start to walk down the street in the direction of your apartment. “But I’m always happy to hear when you enjoy my gifts.”

You nod again, not trust your lips to form to the proper words and sounds in the proper order.

You’ve heard stories about him before you’ve officially met. The whole nation has, but you’ve heard stories about him- about the Flame Alchemist. And so you recognized him when he came into the library one night. You helped him find a couple of books and you told him that you had to lock up ten-minutes before closing. He made you so nervous. Knowing that a man with so much power and talent was sitting in a room with you and a lot of very flammable and very precious material was absolutely anxiety inducing.

But he waited for you outside the main door, and watched silently as you locked it behind you. He then asked if he could see again. And because you’re scared, but not too scared to know what it’s like to start to fall for a someone- you said yes.

But then seeing you again turned into appearing at the end of your every night shift so he could walk you home. And that eventually turned into bringing your a couple of flowers wrapped up with a neat little ribbon every time he saw you. And now? He’s telling you to drop his rank and to call him by his first time. While occasionally slipping a hand around your waist when he wants to guide you somewhere he deems “ a bit safer for me to take you.”

You coworkers took notice after a while. On the shift you weren’t alone, someone would always see him waiting just for you. Doting on you. Spoiling you. Some of them would gush and coo. Tell you. Others would tell you to be careful. That he’s a rabid flirt. That he’s a dangerous man. An uncaring one. Along with every insult under the sun.

But you’ve never seen it. He’s never showed it to you. Not once. Not even.

Still, in your mind. You tell yourself that you have every right to be careful. That you have every right to scared. You’ve been hurt before. You’ve been burned before. You won’t let it happen again. You won’t. You won’t. You won’t. But…

He falls in step with you tonight. He falls in step with you every night he walks you home. He peers at you light expression and he asks you about your day. And he pressesly gently when you’re slow to offer up anything that rubbed you the wrong way. He offers once again to look into the suspicious person who keeps showing up and leaving an hour before you close for the night. And he tells you that he doesn’t want you worrying your pretty little head about the news you hear regarding conflicts in other parts of the nation and in the back streets of Central.

But he also asks if you still feel comfortable about the way he’s courting you. And he doesn’t say another word when you’re unable to hold his hand for very long due to all your fidgeting and the fear of sweaty palms driving him away. He just sees you to the front of your building and stands guard while you fish out your keys. He makes you promise that you’ll be careful on your walks to work. And that you’ll call him first if you ever need to get into contact with the State Military.

You just nod your head and fiddle with the flowers and keep your eyes on his polished uniform boots. He never once shows annoyance at your inability to speak to him normally. Never once falters with his little shows of affection. Never once treats you as anything less than a person worthy of all things soft and sweet. But you just can’t fully believe it. You just can’t fully believe that he isn’t here to one day leave you behind. To hurt you as you’ve been hurt before. To make you fall in love only to break your heart as it has been broken before. You just can’t fully believe it. You can’t fully believe him no matter how hard you try. No matter how hard you want to. You just can’t. You just can’t.

“You have a good night, sweetheart.”

Because you’re just not ready yet. You’re just not ready yet. But one day…

“You too…Roy.”

You hope to be.

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bubba-luz · 1 month ago

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Do you have like a summary of petals somewhere? From what i can understand from the comics its a zosan centric infection au and i wanna know more

Hi, thank you for the question.

Petals was an au for a now defunct fic I was writing earlier this year called “petals, a bloodied tongue” . I had published the first chapter and was working on the second chapter, but due to lack of interest from others and not really knowing what I was doing with a big story I wanted, I deleted it. I did make art for it, as you can see, and some notes when I was trying to map out the story.

You got it mostly right, it is an infection au, though I considered it be more Zoro centric, since I planned it to be told majority from his pov. I got the idea from One Piece Movie 6 Baron Omatsuri and the Secret Island and a 2008 film called The Ruins. It was a plant-based horror story with some cosmic elements. I mostly wanted to write a story where Zoro couldn’t really protect anyone. Zoro makes it his job to be the strongest and always protect the crew. But this is something beyond his control and he can’t slash his way through it.

The Strawhats end up on a mysterious island after a strange storm the night before. The island looks peaceful and has weird animals and creatures on it, but overall nice temporary vacation spot. Then Chopper goes missing. Then Nami and Robin. They find Robin, but shes sick? Nami is no where to be seen. So they eventually get picked off one by one. I made a numbered list of who goes first:

And manner of “death”:

The island itself is alive, it is it’s own being/animal. The souls of those that are consumed are trapped at the heart of the island, and their bodies are essentially fertilizers, some people grow into trees, or flowers, etc. There was a scene I wrote as a test run, of zoro finding a tangerine tree, the tangerines taste metallic like blood, and the juice is a red orange. So their blood also runs through the island.

For humans and the like it tends to infect them, they may cough up blood, sweat, hallucinate. They grow weaker in a matter of hours and lose mobility and the ability to speak, as there are plants growing inside them. Eventually they bloom and are consumed by the island.

Majority of the arts I did were scenes from the story, like Zoro giving the flowers to Sanji, Sanji telling Zoro he’s sick, Frobin having a moment.

This is the full layout notes I did:

I had some in between stuff planned, like Robin’s group exploring abandoned ruins which is where they are attacked and Robin is infected. Zoro and Robin have a conversation about some groups believing that when they die they become a star in the sky, so, eventually, they’ll see their loved ones again. Zoro digging into the ground hysterically after he realizes Sanji is gone.

The infection hits Sanji the hardest and slowest because of his genes and he’s the last to leave Zoro.

As for why Zoro never gets infected, I had this weird idea that the island recognizes Zoro as an animal like the island is. This would tie back to Sanji telling Zoro that he “doesn’t think Zoro is a mindless wild animal, even if he fights like one sometimes.”

Also I forgot to post this:

This would be Luffy’s death, but he comes back as the little dancing monkey orchid that Zoro sees when he’s all alone. Zoro believes he has lost it from grief.

Chopper turned into the little bean guys you keep seeing, he’s the one with the broken leaf. He seems to still remember Zoro.

Sanji turns into a field of dandelions and daisies. He got infected when he smelled the flowers Zoro gave him. The field seems to protect Zoro from any hostile animals.

Zoro has these recurring dreams of Sanji running away and leaving him, much to Zoro’s efforts. His final dream Sanji places a hand on Zoro’s heart and smiles and disappears, Zoro wakes up to Sanji gone.

Zoro also sleeps more now, since he sleeps with Sanji. He feels safe with Sanji, so he let’s his guard down.

Here’s chapter one, unfinished two, test run

If you have any specific questions, please send an ask in the inbox.

#ask #petals #I’ve decided to stick to one shots instead #im not that good of writer so 🤷#theres plenty multi chapter fics out there 🥸#so go read them instead lmao

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

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I Heard That Rafe Sent Someone To The Hospital, Y/N

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of A Bad Fight

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Daisy has heard some rumours about a certain somone causing trouble at a party.

Masterlist

Everyone knows about Rafe Cameron. He rules the campus with an iron fist and most people fear his rage. Girls hunt for his attention, while most men try to deter it. He is known to set the law and if someone breaks it, Rafe lays out the consequences. Rafe isn’t very close to his sister, but he follows his father’s motto that family comes first. So when Ward insisted that Sarah visit her brother for the weekend, Rafe couldn’t refuse. This leads to his campus-wide hands-off rule for his sister. Anyone seen touching her would have to deal with him. He may be protective for Ward’s sake, but he wasn’t going to spend the weekend babysitting his fifteen-year-old sister.

——

Y/N sits in the booth of the cafe, looking over her notes for her elective psychology class. Daisy slides in across from her with a serious look on her face. “Did you hear the news?” Daisy asks, leaning in with her elbows on the table. Y/N shakes her head, “No, I haven’t had time to watch the news because of class. What happened?” Daisy rolls her eyes and sits back in the booth with her arms crossed, “Not the news news, but did you hear what happened at the Alpha Epsilon Pi party this weekend?” “No. Daisy, you know I really don’t care what happens at those things,” Y/N reminds, going back to her notes when she realizes what her friend is talking about isn’t that serious. Daisy leans forward again and closes Y/N’s laptop. Daisy’s eyes bore into the other girl’s, “You should. I heard Rafe someone to the hospital, Y/N.” This causes Y/N to look at her friend with wide eyes. “Who was it? There’s no way that you haven’t asked around to find out who that someone is,” Y/N provokes, not appreciating the suspense she knows her friend is trying to build.

Daisy’s pride is reflected with a smile, “Of course, I know. He beat Ashton to a pupil. I saw some pictures on Insta and Ashton was so bloody. They say that Rafe was high and drunk.” “As aggressive as Rafe can be, I highly doubt Rafe got into a fight with Ashton for no reason,” Y/N points out, always wanting to know the full story, unlike some people.

“No one seems to know the full reason, but it has something to do with the edict he made last week.”

“Wasn’t it about staying away from his sister?”

“It was.”

“I mean, I don’t condone violence, but knowing Ashton, I would be pretty angry if someone was preying on my fifteen-year-old sister.”

Daisy’s head tilts and she takes a second to think. “Oh, I never thought about it that way. It is a little creepy. Ashton was probably flirting with Sarah.” “Exactly. Daze, you have to stop judging people based on half of the story. I know Rafe shouldn’t have sent Ashton to the hospital, but Ashton wasn’t exactly an innocent party either,” Y/N argues. Y/N returns to her work while Daisy goes to get something to eat. Even before they started dating, Y/N has always been quick to make people see the full picture with Rafe. What she doesn’t know is that she is going to be spending the rest of her life doing that and she can’t say that she wants to complain about it.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

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bluetimeombre · 11 months ago

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━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ Daisy, oh my Daisy

Daisy and Wonka first met all those years ago on the boat. He was a chef and she, a waitress. The two had come quick friends, working together and laughing together. When Willy Wonka shared his chocolate dreams with her, she wanted to be part of it all. So as Wonka goes for his dreams, Daisy, his Daisy comes along as his faithful secretary. When it all goes wrong, he fears he's dragged her down with him.

[never did I think i'd be writing a Willy Wonka fic, like huh? but before I even went into the cinema to watch it I knew i'd be obsessed. Can't wait to see the Regulus edits of it all. Not proofread, just vibes. And i have a lot of ideas for timmy and coryo snow bits :)] ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━

The doors were wide open, holding the people in and the magic of it out. The wonder of Wonka's chocolate shop wafted in the wind, calling in all- children and adults, anyone and everyone came along to have bite of magic.

Daisy maned the doors with Noodle. Kept the line down and made sure everyone got in and out with a bag full of the wonderful chocolate Wonka created. She was lucky enough to be the first to try them all, he always wanted her feed back. She was thankful he held her in such esteem as to value her opinion. After seven years on this journey with him, just seeing his dreams in front of her was enough to keep a grin in her face.

Her cheeks would sure hurt in the morning.

It was obvious to them all apparently, at least to the adults, how Daisy admired and felt about Wonka. But- standing across from her and watching her watch Wonka- it only just clicked with Noodle.

'Holy cricket!' yelped Noodle.

Her yell broke Daisy away from her daze, watching Wonka in his chocolate tree. She jumped in her skin and slowly turned to Noodle. 'Yes, Noodle?'

'You're in love with him!'

Daisy's jaw hung open slightly before she laughed off her nerves. If Noodle said it any louder, he may just hear. 'What? No-no, no way, no, please. Don't be ridiculous. He's... he's my boss.'

'So?' she rushed over to Daisy tugging at her sleeve. 'You're in love with him!'

Daisy turned them around quickly, smiling at all the customers until they were left alone in a corner. 'Noodle, please, you mustn't say a word. To him, to anyone.'

'You've been in love with him this whole time?'

'Well, only six of the seven years i've known him,' Daisy amended, 'although admittedly that doesn't sound any better.'

Noodle had a grin on her face now, her little hat slanted down on her head. 'Why not tell him?'

'Because Noodle, there are some things worth staying quiet for. If he didn't like me back and thought it weird that I stayed this whole time, he could throw me out! All i've known is this.' Daisy didn't want to think of not having it. Of not having... Wonka.

'Daisy, please, i'm sure Wonka loves you to,.'

'Daisy!' called the very man they were discussing. The two girls stood up quickly, hands behind their backs and smiling.

'Nothing, we were talking about nothing!' said Daisy quickly.

Wonka's brows seemed askew as he looked between them. 'Very well, Daisy may I borrow you a moment.' he didn't await an answer, already tugging her away.

Worried he'd heard this whole time and was about to tell her to leave, Daisy looked back at Noodle for some help. The girl only made smooching faces.

'Try this!' Wonka thrust a chocolate flower in her mouth.

It was delicious. Crunchy and melting on the tongue. It smelt like a tulip but tasted like a blueberry and something else, something like...

Daisy spat out the last crumbs of the flower. 'Yeti sweat!'

'Exactly!'

'But you didn't put that in there!'

'No, I did not.'

Daisy thought quickly, clicking her fingers. 'Could it have been the little orange man?'

Wonka nodded, stroking the non-existent hair on his chin. 'I wouldn't put it past him.' Quickly, Wonka tugged her over to the tree and leapt upon it, yelling out to the room: 'Ladies and Gentlemen! Your attention please, there seems to be a manufacturing error! Nobody eat the flowers!'

A lady who's hair was already turning orange and growing a beard asked 'why not?'

A man who's hair was ginger and growing tall had crumbs falling from his lips 'what's wrong with them?'

Another man was turning green, another child was turning another colour.

'Oh no,' mumbled Daisy.

'I'm terribly sorry everyone and I don't know how to explain it. But it appears the chocolate's have been poisoned!' Wonka announced.

Daisy leapt up next to him. 'That probably was not the best wording, Wonka.'

'I want my money back!' a man who's hair was as blue as the ocean yelled.

'I want compensation!' yelled an angry Scottish man.

'I want revenge!'

Suddenly, chocolate's were being thrown at the two. They dodged and ducked, but they came quickly.

'Daisy, hold onto me!' Wonka grabbed a fistful of her purple dress and kept her close to him. They yelled at those who tore down the shop, that cracked and shattered all the glasses. 'Daisy, what's happening?!'

The chandelier dropped from the ceiling, creating fire in the middle of the hall. People started to run out, screaming and yelling. 'Oh Daisy.' and Wonka settled down.

That's how they ended up in the melted room of what was once Wonka's shop of dreams. The colours had dissolved, the people had scattered and they were left with their friends.

Noodle slowly approached Wonka who sat down in the dust. With an encouraging nod from Daisy, Noodle cleared her throat. 'It's ok, Willy. We can re-build.'

'There's no point, Noodle.'

Daisy rested a hand on his shoulder. 'Don't say that.'

'It's the truth,' he mumbled. 'It didn't work.'

Daisy scoffed. 'What do you mean? your chocolates brought so much joy!' she settled down next to him. 'Before everyone found out they were tampered with.'

'She promised she would be here,' said Wonka, glancing over at Daisy. She was the only one who knew everything about Wonka. All but one thing. Quite possibly one of the biggest things. 'She wasn't. Stupid dream.'

Daisy rested a hand on his back. 'It's not a stupid dream, none of your dreams are stupid.'

'Oh but they are,' he told her, looking to her with tears in his eyes. He seemed to search her face for something. 'Now none of them will ever come true.'

'Don't say that Willy!' said Noodle. 'Please don't ever say that!'

'Come on, Noodle,' Mr. Carter said, putting a hand to Noodle's shoulder and gesturing the rest away. 'I think we should give Mr Wonka some time alone.'

Wonka didn't object to them all leaving, he sat with his feelings and his chocolates.

Daisy watched them all leave and turned back to Willy. They spent their days together, inventing, laughing, eating and cooking. They only left each others side to sleep in different rooms. But maybe, she'd have to accept some things change.

With a quiet sigh, Daisy made to leave.

Wonka's hand reached out, clasping her wrist. 'Not you. Please, please don't leave.'

At his begging, at the tear slipping down his cheek, she sat back down and held onto his hand firmly.

'Never, Willy, never,' she promised.

He sniffed. 'I'm sorry, I let you down,' he laughed through his tears.

At first, she thought he was talking to his Ma. Sometimes, when he needed guidance the most, he'd share some words with her. But she realised, he was apologising to her.

'Let me down?' she echoed. It was a ridiculous idea, when he'd given her the greatest thing of all. Love. A warmth in the heart that not even chocolate could bring. 'You haven't let me down, in fact, it would be impossible for you to ever let me down, Willy. You did all this. All of it. And if it wasn't for the stupid chocolate cartel, you'd have all your dreams. I just wish I could erase what they did, give it all back to you.'

He smiled, wiping his nose. 'You've always been too kind to me, Daisy.'

'You've never given me a reason not to be, Willy.' she squeezed his hand with one and with the other, she wiped away a tear from his cheek.

He looked at her and she quickly dropped her hand and took a deep breath. The ends of her dress were scorched, her gloves ruined, hair falling around her face. 'You've followed me all these years for this. For this dream. Now it's all gone. It's ruined and i've done nothing but waste your time.'

Daisy looked into his eyes, those that were swimming in tears. She shook her head slightly, lips curled up in disbelief. She thought of talking with Noodle, she thought of dancing and sharing smiles with Willy. 'You really think that's the only reason i've followed you?'

They were sitting close. Bodies, warm from fire and cold from dread. His jacket, frayed everywhere, covering parts of her dress. He could see every detail of her face. Every detail he'd missed from spending his time being far from her.

'What else could there be?' he asked.

And perhaps truth's would've been shared if it wasn't for the chocolate cartel interrupting.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

It all seemed to end with: death by chocolate.

Daisy and Wonka were stuck in a room with thousands and thousands of gallons of chocolate, and impossible amount really. The pillars whirled and the chocolate grew around them. They'd been so close at winning, at getting their hands on the secrets they needed to prove the cartel villains and gain back his reputation. But of course, there was one thing they'd missed.

Chocolate.

'You know, Willy. When you were dreaming about chocolate. I think you dreamt a bit too hard.'

Wonka held her hand, putting it onto his sleeve. 'Just hold onto me, we'll be fine.'

But then chocolate started to spill from vents, and being 'just fine' started to turn into panicking. Panicking a lot.

His other hand held onto her hand. 'I'll think of something, I promise.'

Daisy laughed, watching her knees disappear under the chocolate. 'I've never doubted you, not for a second in six years. But please do come up with a plan soon.'

'I've got it!' he announced after the chocolate crept up their legs. 'If we're going to drown in chocolate, because let's face it Daisy, we might just drown in chocolate. Then it'll be Wonka chocolate.' She watched as he started to sprinkle some secret ingredient into the chocolate around them.

'Does that happen to lessen the amount of chocolate that will some in?' she asked.

'Nop!' he admitted.

Daisy put on a brave smile, looking around the room as the chocolate reached her waist. 'A sky light!' she gasped, shuffling around in the liquid. She laughed, clutching at Wonka. 'There's a skylight, we'll get out that way.'

Willy followed her eyeline, seeing the only part light came from. 'Daisy, my Daisy, you're a genius.'

And it didn't take long for the chocolate to reach their necks. They pushed through it, they fought against the current until they reached the window.

'Help!' they yelled, banging their fists against it, screaming and hoping someone would see or the glass would break.

'It's not gonna work is it?' Daisy sighed. Her fists were shaking from the force of knocking against the window. 'We're going to drown in chocolate.' She laughed, because how could she not.

Wonka watched her. Even in the desolate moment of ending, he watched her. His flower laugh and then thought things couldn't be so bad if she was laughing. But hadn't she always found joy in the worst moments? 'Tell me,' he said.

Daisy looked back to him, arms working tiresomely to keep her up. 'Tell you what?'

'What you were going to tell me, back in the shop?'

Daisy almost thanked the blush was up to her neck, he'd never be able to see the rising blush. 'I er... I don't think I remember what I was going to say.'

'Sure you do,' said Wonka, almost taking pleasure in teasing her. 'You're Daisy, you remember everything.'

Still, even facing death by chocolate, Daisy wasn't ready to spill her most carefully guarded secret.

'Why else would you follow me all the way here, Daisy?' he asked her. 'You might as well tell me. I'm not sure there's another way out of here. I've let you down. Again.'

'Willy, i've told you. You can never let me down,' she whispered. There was nothing else left to say. Nothing but silence between them.

'I'm in love with you,' she confessed in one breath. A secret kept for years, aching for days and it came out in one single whisper. 'I've been in love with you for six years. That's why I've followed you everywhere. Because I believe you. I wanted to see your dreams come true. I wanted to watch you watch your dreams come true. That's why i've followed you here. Because I am so helplessly and foolishly in love with you.'

To her dismay, nothing was revealed from his expression. 'You really mean that?' he asked. 'You're not just saying that because we're about to drown?'

'No. Seemed as good a time as ever to say it.'

Finally, he smiled. 'Then let me do you one better. I've been in love with you for seven,' he admitted. Finally admitted. And if it wasn't for the chocolate holding them down, his chest would finally expand with a deep breath. He laughed. 'Seven years.'

'Seven?' she checked.

'Seven,' he exaggerated. 'I should've told you, I never wanted you to be my secretary! I never wanted you as a friend! I wanted- I wanted you!'

Daisy laughed, tilting her head back so she couldn't choke on chocolate. 'Well, we're just a pair of fools aren't we?'

Willy smiled. 'Daisy, oh my Daisy. Deep breath now.'

Then, the two disappeared under the river of chocolate. But for a fleeting moment, they were in love together.

Daisy thought that could save them. Her own dream of loving him could make the chocolate go, lower until they could breath. She could practically feel the fresh air, feel the air in her lungs.

'Daisy! My Daisy open your eyes!' Yelled Wonka. 'We're saved, we've been saved!'

Daisy wiped the chocolate from her eyes, finding Willy in front of her with a wide grin. 'What? by who?'

'Look!'

Above them, waving at the window was the little orange man. The theif.

Daisy exclaimed a laugh, thanking him and blowing him a kiss as the chocolate continued to lower until they got their bodies back. The two spun around and around until they hit the ground in lumps of bodies.

Their bodies were shaking with laughter, against each other.

They sat up across from each other in new light. Not afraid of dying, or loving.

Daisy raised a brow. 'So seven years is a long time.'

Wonka blushed under the layer of chocolate he tried to wipe away. 'Almost as long as six.'

They laughed, eyes twinkling in the way new lovers do.

Daisy reached out, swiping a layer of chocolate from his cheek and licking it off her finger as Wonka watched. She didn't seem to think anything of it, but it lit him up with heat and determination.

He pulled her arm until she was between his legs, almost on his lap and kissed her. A kiss that had waited seven years, since they were born, a lifetime for them to share.

It was quick, a movement of lips and his hand on her cheek, her hand clutching his jacket. It tasted of life and hope and love and chocolate. His lips were soft and sweet, and hers were fresh and his for the taking.

Perhaps, if it wasn't for the little orange man knocking on the window, they would've forgotten their troubles and rolled around in chocolate, discovering what seven years of longing does to a person.

Daisy pulled away, running her tongue over her newly chocolate covered lips.

Wonka smiled, kissed her once more and then held her hand. 'Let's go get our chocolate back.'

#timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothee x reader #timothee imagine #timothée chalamet #wonka #wonka movie #willy wonka #regulus black #timmy

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sl-vega · 3 months ago

Text

⋆˚✿˖° BLOSSOMING LOVE

pairings: Bachira Meguru, Isagi Yoichi x [GN!] Reader

genre: headcanon/drabbles, imagines, fluff, can be read as canon compliant/pre-bluelock au or school/no bluelock au

synopsis: flowers that the bluelock boys would give you at different stages in your relationship

CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, potential inaccuracies with flower language, might make a second part with different characters if people want it.

BACHIRA MEGURU

˚୨୧⋆｡ STAGE ONE; PUPPY LOVE

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ DAFFODILS

daffodils are bright and sunny, just like the strange boy who seemed to develop an affinity towards you

"don't they remind you of me?" :D

Is what he'd probably say with the brightest smile on his face as he'd eagerly hand them to you

Bachira would probably hand them to you on the daily, sometimes he'd freshly pick them on his way to school, and while they were impulsive gifts, that doesn't mean he doesn't put effort into making them presentable

he'll usually add a matching pastel yellow ribbon to them, sometimes borrowing his mother's art supplies to fancy them up

You always thought the boy was rather...

peculiar, to say the least

but you could sense that Bachira meant well, he was incredibly open about his feelings towards you, he would never directly state that he was attracted to you, but it was rather obvious

you'd often catch him staring at you in class, shamelessly admiring your features or making eye contact that was way too close for comfort, and he'd never deny it if you ever caught him

of course, whenever you did, the boy would simply slide you a mini bouquet of daffodils with a cheeky smile, and a cute little note attached to it

ᥫ᭡ STAGE TWO; MORE THAN FRIENDS, LESS THAN LOVERS

╰┈➤ flower of choice: DAISIES

upon actually getting to know meguru, you realized that he was actually quite fun to be around

the boy's personality and smile was rather infectious, not that you were complaining

despite his extroverted and chatty nature, he was a pretty good listener

after becoming properly acquainted with the boy, you found yourself spending more and more time with bachira

some of your classmates had already assumed the two of you were together with how clingy the boy would be towards you, following you around like a lost puppy

sometimes, whenever he would accompany you on your way to school, he'd surprise you with little daisy chains he made on his way there

at first they'd be a little lopsided, but after seeing how much you liked the chains, he started to get better and better at them

he'd often place them on your head during lunch hours, or give them to you as bracelets, sometimes adorned with little clay or polymer charms that his mother would help him make

at this point in your relationship, he'd retire from attaching little notes to his flowers, one, because they weigh down the daisy chains, two because they make the flowers look less pretty and all lopsided, and three, because why write notes when he's perfectly comfortable telling you how he feels?

at this point in what you assume is a friendship with bachira, you can't seem to decide what you should label your relationship as

with how shameless the boy is around you, you're certain that you're supposed to be more than friends, but he hasn't fully committed to you yet

sure situationships suck, but with meguru, it's a little more bearable

୨♡୧ STAGE THREE: CONFESSION

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ✿ JONQUIL (NARCISSUS)

could you even label it as a confession?

is what you kept asking yourself as bachira held out the bright yellow petals as he professed his love to you in an oddly bashful way

much like how the narcissus is shameless in it's own beauty, bachira was shameless in his own love for you

except for now that is, the usual mischievous glint in his eyes was replaced with something else, something genuine and sincere

you already knew that he had feelings for you, all your classmates knew that he had feelings for you, at this rate, he may as well just shout it from the roof tops that he's head over heels in love with you

yet right here, right now, the few simple words that you thought you had been expecting all along, they had felt like a wave coming over you

you saw it coming, yet it had still shocked you

of course, you accepted his confession, how could you deny him at this rate?

he already had you far under his spell, even if he never realized it

𔓘 STAGE FOUR; TOGETHER-TOGETHER

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ YELLOW TULIPS

even after he's finally won you over, bachira still makes a point to surprise you with cute gifts

flowers included

tulips represent deep, true love

coincidence?

not at all

sometimes, when he's luck and you let him play with your hair, he'll weave flowers into it, sometimes daffodils, sometimes daisies, sometimes jonquils, and most of the time tulips

you say that they look a little lopsided in your hair and that it makes you look strange, but meguru always assures you that you look gorgeous no matter what

it's safe to say that the tulips perfectly convey how he feels about you, deep and truly in love

ISAGI YOICHI

˚୨୧⋆｡ STAGE ONE; PUPPY LOVE

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ GREEN ZINNIAS

when isagi first meets you, he's incredibly taken by you, head over heels, love at first sight, lovesick, you name it, he felt it

unlike bachira he's rather reserved when it comes to his feelings for you, he's hardly ever talked to you so actually making a move and trying to flirt is way out of the question

so he settles for becoming your secret admirer, discreetly leaving small bunches of zinnias in your locker

he didn't know what to give you at first, but after stumbling upon these lovely blossoms in a flower shop, he thought that they would suit the situation quite nicely

occasionally, on the days where he was feeling bold, he would leave a note with a short message along the lines of;

"you have a nice smile :D" -your secret admirer

sometimes, isagi would hang back as you got stuff from your locker just to see your reaction, it was always positive, and his heart would always leap into his throat whenever he saw you smile at his corny little messages

you had your suspicions about the boy, he wasn't the best liar either, but you never questioned him too much whenever you caught him lurking

it was rather cute honestly, he was rather intense whenever you saw him play soccer out on the field, but he was so bashful around you, a bit of a dork too

somehow you still hadn't put two and two together and realize that the was your secret admirer

isagi found your obliviousness adorable however

ᥫ᭡ STAGE TWO; MORE THAN FRIENDS, LESS THAN LOVERS

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ GARDENIAS

after some time had passed, you and isagi had started hanging out more, and more and you had developed a close friendship with the boy

all while you still didn't know that he was your secret admirer

after becoming well acquainted with yoichi, you started to develop feelings for him, making you care less about your secret admirer, who's true identity was still a mystery to you

isagi, like the oblivious boy he was, didn't pick up on your newfound feelings for him, and only saw your decreasing interest in your admirer

perhaps you found out it was him and this was your way of letting him down easy

his head was always swarmed with thoughts of what he could've done to make you seem a lot more distant towards his anonymous affection

so he decided to change things up a little

he heard from a friend of a friend that you thought gardenias were pretty

so isagi "head over heels for you" yoichi decided that the only logical course of action was to buy you some gardenias, bunched together and carefully arranged, and wrapped with a lovely silky bow

upon doing some reading into it, isagi found out that gardenias actually symbolize "hidden love" which made it even more perfect for the current situation

he even included a cute little card with the meaning on it after he slipped the bouquet in your locker

over time, you'd grow fonder of the gifts once more, and isagi, like the sly little bastard he is, would always try to be slick whenever he asked you about the gifts

"so you have a secret admirer huh? cool, cool. hypothetically, if they got you this colour of gardenias, would you like them?"

and surprise, surprise, those very flowers would show up in your locker the following school day

after some time, you picked up and you were well aware of isagi's little game, you were more than happy to play along though

୨♡୧ STAGE THREE: CONFESSION

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ WISTERIA

in western culture, wisterias represent the passing of time, new beginnings, and romance

several things that described your relationship with isagi

(he thought he was being so clever w/ this one, in his defense, he was, gotta give credit where credit is due)

so, several mirror pep-talks later, isagi finally musters up the courage to leave the final note in your locker asking you to meet him on the school rooftop after school

(cliche i know, but this whole secret admire thing is the most tropey you can get so it's go big or go home with him)

after finally climbing your way up to the top of the school, you are met with a familiar pair of bright blue eyes

bashful as ever, yoichi hands a small bouquet of wisteria flowers bound together with a cream white ribbon as he pours his heart out to you, a dreamy pink sunset painting the backround to his touching confession

after his whole speech asking you to go out with him, you naturally agree

"y'know, i had a feeling it was you all along..."

"WHAT?!-"

poor guy wishes you put him out of his misery sooner, but at least he's finally won you over

𔓘 STAGE FOUR; TOGETHER-TOGETHER

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ WHITE LILY

white lilies symbolize rebirth or new beginnings

they are also commonly used during easter in catholic masses, as well as weddings! (isagi may or may not be planning in advance for all you know)

your newfound relationship with isagi is simply wonderful, he knows how to treat you right and he's just a wonderful guy in general

sometimes, for nostalgia's sake, he'll leave you notes in your locker with lilies attached to them, only difference now is that he's your boyfriend rather than your secret admirer <3

the second you close your locker and place the cheesy note back into it, you're always met with his arms wrapped around your waist and his lips against your own

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literaryvein-reblogs · 3 months ago

Note

Hello <33 I'm trying to come up with a title for my fluff self-insert, but I'd like some better ideas for a title. Basically it's about curiosity and the inexperienced touching of another you're attracted to, a fiery type of heat as they fall in love with the sanctity in each other's trust and clothed adoration.

If you can give me a list of poetic phrases and words, even the more simple to the uncommon ones, that'd be great :D

Hi! Thanks for sharing a snippet of your story with me <3 Here are some words/phrases related to curiosity, coming-of-age & youthful passionate love:

Be soft on someone - to love someone or like someone very much

Besotted - to be completely in love with someone and always thinking of them

Butter wouldn't melt in someone's mouth - used when someone looks as if they would never do anything wrong, although you feel they might

Carry a torch for [someone] - to be in love with someone

Ephebic - relating to or like an ephebe (i.e., a young man, especially in Ancient Greece, or a young person who is not yet a fully grown adult)

Ephemerality - the quality or state of lasting only for a short time

Estival - relating to or typical of summer

Indian summer - a period of warm weather happening in the fall when you expect cooler weather

Look at/see something through rose-coloured/rose-tinted glasses - to see only the pleasant things about a situation and not notice the things that are unpleasant

Novitiate - the period or state of being a novice

Red-letter day - a special, happy, and important day that you will always remember

Road to Damascus - your road to Damascus is an experience you have that you consider to be very important and that changes your life

Saturnalia - an ancient Roman celebration that happened on December 19; a party where people behave in an uncontrolled way

Spring beauty - one of several small, wild plants, originally from North America, that have green leaves and small pink or white flowers in the early spring

Spring fever - a feeling of excitement because the weather suddenly becomes warmer in spring

Tenderfoot - an inexperienced beginner; novice

Vernal - relating to or happening in the spring

Volte-face - a sudden change from one set of beliefs or plan of action to the opposite

Worship the ground someone walks on - to love and admire someone very much

Xanadu - a very impressive and beautiful place, or a place that is perfect

Perhaps some Victorian flower language may inspire you:

Abatina - fickleness

Aster - love, daintiness

Camellia (red) - flame in one's heart

Carnation (white) - innocence, pure love, sweet love

Crocus (spring) - cheerfulness, youthful gladness

Daffodil - regard, unequalled love

Daisy - innocence, loyal love, "I’ll never tell"

Larkspur - open heart, levity, lightness, fickleness

Lilac - joy of youth

Rose (white) - innocence, heavenly, "I’m worthy of you"

I hope you find the right word or phrase here. If not, perhaps this list could inspire you to create the perfect title—incorporate characters' names, places from your story, do a bit of word play etc etc :)

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Word Lists

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year ago

Text

Moves & Countermoves (Part 17)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

“People of Panem, we fight, we-” Katniss freezes, staring at her own reflection. Makeup done, hair styled to perfection, holding up a stick for the camera. This isn’t real. This isn’t war.

“Does she know the line?” Plutarch asks, into the microphone, for all to hear.

“I know it.” Katniss shakes her head to clear it.

“She’s just warming up.” Effie explains. Even she has joined the effort, leaving behind her drab quarters for Katniss.

“Alright, let’s go again. Whenever you’re ready.” Plutarch instructs.

Y/N sways, soothing her tired infant to a sleepy submission on the opposite side of the glass. Daisy May is not fond of sleep, especially with the world bustling around her.

Katniss gets back down on one knee. This is take three.

“Maybe if you show her.” Cashmere whispers to Y/N.

“Might not be a bad idea.” Plutarch watches the mockingjay, with a hand to his head.

“Yeah?” Y/N is willing to try.

“Here,” Cashmere puts her arms out, “gimme the baby.”

Y/N looks down at her daughter, kissing her tiny nose and handing her off.

She fusses for a moment, in Cashmere’s hold.

“Shh,” the blonde coos, allowing the baby to take a fistful of hair. “It’s ok, my Daisy.”

The little girl sighs, closing her grumpy eyes, never letting go of Cashmere’s waves.

“Ok, Katniss, Y/N’s coming in to do a demonstration. Just follow her lead and we’ll go from there.”

“Yeah, ok.” Katniss’ eyes scan the reflective surface, searching for her.

A second later, her mentor pops through the connecting side door. She is not made up, or wearing some crazy outfit, her stylist squeezed her into; she is just Y/N. Somehow that is enough.

“I’m a method actor, obviously.” Loved her fake husband so much that their staged marriage became a real one.

Not that Haymitch is any better. Content to kiss the ground where she walks, if he couldn’t be with her.

The joke lands only with Plutarch and Cashmere. Katniss thinks she understands, but doesn’t find it all that funny.

“First thing’s first, I’m gonna move around a little, get the blood flowing, get that shortness of breath.”

Katniss moves with her, trotting in place like a show horse.

“Good, now we’ll go down on one knee.” Y/N demonstrates and Katniss follows. “Slowly and with some effort, I’m gonna rise to my feet.”

“Because you’ve just been in battle.”

“Exactly,” Y/N smiles, before her features harden.

She is a thousand miles away, just stormed the outskirts of the Capitol. The ease with which she shifts from one to the other terrifies Katniss.

“People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!”

Even with the wind and the stupid stick in Y/N’s hand, raised in the air, Katniss almost believes it. This is the type of person that fuels a rebellion.

She was the people’s victor. She won her own way, same as Haymitch. So Snow manacled them together and scarred them with his brand.

The more Katniss learns about Y/N the more her heart aches, for the indifference she held toward her for so long. To know her is to love her and it’s a shame that not many people ever did.

“Yes! That was perfect.” Plutarch exclaims, “Katniss, now you try it. Just like that.”

“O-ok,” Katniss stammers.

Y/N moves aside, switching places so that Katniss is on the pedestal.

Katniss repeats the words verbatim, copying Y/N’s performance as best she can. She only agreed to be the face of the revolution after seeing what happened to district twelve. After seeing the reaction to Peeta’s interview with Caesar, she knows this is the only way to protect him.

There’s a slow clap from the corner, growing closer until he steps into view. The top of his blonde hair covered by a dark knit hat. “And that is how a revolution dies.”

Katniss glares at Haymitch, his hand resting at Y/N’s waist, as if no time has passed between them.

“Is this how you greet an old friend?” Haymitch cocks his head to the side.

“Maybe I don’t recognize you sober.” Katniss bites out.

“I guess it looks as bad as it feels.”

Y/N turns to him, whispering something Katniss can’t make out.

He offers her a smile and a chaste kiss.

Katniss sees herself and Peeta. The way they might have been, ten years down the line. Peeta would love her like that…and she’d love him the only way she could.

It would bubble up and swell in her chest, until she burst. Just like Haymitch, pouring from an empty cup.

————————————————————————

Katniss sinks down in her chair, as the propo plays for the team. Wishing she could melt into it, disappear. No one’s going to buy this.

Y/N rubs at her back, “it’s not as bad as you think.”

“You’re right,” Haymitch cuts in, “it’s worse.” He’s always been a tough love kind of guy. Even with an infant strapped to his chest, he isn’t brimming with compassion.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “not helping.”

“Indulge me for a moment.” Haymitch holds both hands up in surrender. “Lets everybody think of one incident where Katniss Everdeen genuinely moved you.” He moves to the digital display, in front of the meeting table. “One moment where she made you feel something real.”

“Ooo,” Effie waves a hand. “When she volunteered for her sister at the reaping.”

“Excellent example.” Haymitch uses his forearm to clear data from the screen. He’s observed enough of Y/N and her tablet over the years, this technology is no different. “Hope that wasn’t important.” He steals a glance over his shoulder, before scribbling in, ‘volunteer 4 sis,’ with the stylus.

“And when she volunteered for Y/N.”

“When she sang that song for little Rue.”

Haymitch adds it to the list. “You know Effie, I like you better without all that makeup.”

“Well, I like you better sober.” The woman says in return, causing Haymitch to glare at her.

“When she chose Rue for an ally as well.” Beetee chimes in.

“Now, what do all of these things have in common?”

“Nobody told her what to do.” Gale understands better than anyone.

“Unscripted,” Beetee agrees, “yes. So maybe we should just leave her alone.”

“And wash her face.” Boggs narrows his eyes, “she’s still a girl, you made her look thirty-five.”

Katniss smiles at this.

“The opportunities for spontaneity are obviously lacking, here below ground.” Plutarch points out. “So what you’re suggesting is that we toss her into combat?”

“I can’t sanction putting an untrained civilian into combat for effect. This isn’t the Capitol,” Coin argues.

“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Put her in the field.” Haymitch knows this is the only way.

“No, we won’t be able to protect her.” The president looks to Y/N now. Surely she is not onboard with this.

“It has to come from her, that’s what people respond to. You want a symbol for the revolution, she cannot be coached into it. Trust me, I know.” Haymitch presses on.

“He’s right,” Y/N sighs. “It’s not ideal but…it’s our only option.”

“Maybe there’s someplace less dangerous.”

“District eight, they sustained heavy bombings last week. No military targets left.”

“We can’t guarantee her safety.”

“You’ll never be able to guarantee my safety,” Katniss adds. “I wanna go.”

“And if you’re killed?” Alma’s words hang heavy between them.

“Make sure you get it on camera.”

————————————————————————

“You realize this is dangerous, let alone highly irresponsible.” Haymitch remarks, watching his wife load her gun. The bullets are color coded; black for regular, yellow are incendiary, and red for explosive. Though they’ve been asked not to fire the red ones down here.

“Yeah.” Y/N cocks the gun, squeezing the trigger and letting the bullet fly. She’s gotten better with practice, now hitting her target at dead center. “You don’t approve?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying, Haymitch?”

“As your former mentor, I’m not inclined to advise you waltzing into a war zone.” You search for water. High ground, stay away from the cornucopia.

Y/N nods, “and as my husband?”

“I’m even less inclined.” Though his feelings for her have shifted over the years, the need to protect her is fierce and unwavering.

“I can’t lose Katniss.” Not like we lost Peeta.

“Yeah,” Haymitch huffs, “I get that.”

She sets down her weapon, on the steel table in the training room. “I’m a good shot.”

“You are.”

“I’ve been working on my stamina, I’m almost back to where I was before Daisy.”

Haymitch won’t deny it. “You’ve got good aim, you’re fast, resourceful and a little bit scrappy. You can survive in harsh conditions.” You’re my victor. “But there’s a hole in your uterus the size of a dinner plate.”

“Was,” Y/N corrects him. “The doctors cleared me for this.”

“I watched you almost bleed to death; twice. So you’ll have to forgive me for being reluctant to let you risk your life. I understand that this is important to you-”

She turns, cupping his cheek, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I wouldn’t want you to go either. I love you too much.”

Haymitch affords her a soft grin, “that always gets in the way, doesn’t it?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “somehow I just keep getting sucked in deeper.”

“You keep getting sucked in?” He chuckles. “I was perfectly content on my own for over a decade, before you put your hooks in me.”

At this she laughs, harder than she should. “Don’t make it sound so romantic now.”

Still his arms are around her. Y/N’s at the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that has started growing in with gray peppered throughout and makes him feel every bit his age.

Their lips meet, by her accord or his own; he can’t say for certain. Y/N bids him closer. Deeper, harder, more. I’m yours. Nothing more, nothing less…just hers.

“Stay off him!” Cashmere scolds from the entryway, effectively breaking them apart. “It’s like you’re trying to singlehandedly repopulate this hellhole.”

“Our contribution to this great nation,” Haymitch salutes her.

————————————————————————

“We’ve gotta be quick about this. Get in and get out.” Boggs orders, as they file out of the hovercraft. Nobody wants the mockingjay on the ground for long.

Introductions are brief. Commander Paylor, of district eight, shows them to the makeshift hospital.

Bodies of fallen civilians line the entrance, covered only by tarps. “There’s a mass grave, about two miles west. But I can’t spare the manpower to move them.”

This place is a breeding ground for infection. All the wounded in one place, nothing sterile in sight.

“Don’t film me in there. I can’t help them,” Katniss says to Cressida, as they move farther into the masses.

“Just let them see you,” the woman insists. She left the Capitol for this, she knows what she’s doing.

“Come on,” Y/N gives her shoulder a squeeze.

Katniss opens her mouth to speak but Y/N disappears into the crowd, helping nurse the wounded.

There is someone in the corner; no one tends her, she is alone and clearly suffering. A bucket of water, with a single sponge inside, sits beside her, bandages to the left.

“I’m surprised they let you out just to show face. Thought you were more important than that.” The woman from district eight says.

“I’m not here to show face. I’m here to support Katniss and what I believe in.” Y/N takes a seat, beginning to clean her wounds.

“You sure this is the side you fall on?” She chokes out. “There’s no fancy parties or big houses here.”

Y/N lifts a shoulder. “I never liked the parties and the house wasn’t very homey. The only good thing about it was my family inside.”

“People used to look up to you.”

“That was a long time ago,” Y/N murmurs.

“They will again.” The woman is sure of it, “and when they do, make sure you’re ready. Make sure you stay on the right side of things.”

“I was just trying to survive, couldn’t see beyond that.”

“He’ll kill you for this.” President Snow. “For standing with us.”

Y/N nods, with a tired smile. “Yeah.”

“Then why are you here?”

“This is what I believe in…a new Panem. Where we are equals and have a say in our own lives. It’s worth the risk. It’s gonna take all of us, every person in every district, we all have to fight for it.”

The woman presses her lips together, allowing Y/N to dress her wounds. She says nothing else, looking up at the victor, from time to time. I see you.

It feels good to be seen, by a stranger who owes her nothing. Someone to see her without the tainted film of rose colored glasses.

————————————————————————

“How have things been since your release?” Dr. Aurelius inquires.

“Alright, I guess.” Haymitch is not here of his own free will. “Never gonna be good, given the prohibition you have going on around here. But I’d rather be with my family than locked up a mile away.”

“Tell me about your family.”

“My son’s name is Everest, he’s ten. My daughter, Arista is six and Daisy is four weeks old. Then obviously Y/N and her family. Katniss.” Peeta.

“Were they planned? The children.”

“Yes and no.” Haymitch scrubs a hand over his face.

“Can you explain what that means?”

“I don’t want…” Haymitch pauses, “our children are not burdens, Y/N and I have always said that. Those kids are everything and I don’t want that getting twisted. Ever.”

“Of course.”

“Snow gave us deadlines and we met them. With Everest and Arista, we had a year. In that year Y/N needed to be pregnant.”

“But not Daisy?”

“They screwed around with Y/N’s birth control. We’re fertile people, it doesn’t take much.” Haymitch admits.

“And your marriage, would you call it a happy one?”

“Yes, by my account. But I’m sure she’s told you all about me.” This is a joke, for the most part.

“I can’t say much, as it would be a breach of confidentiality. Still you should know, she speaks highly of you. She loves you very much.”

Haymitch drops his gaze.

“Where did you go just now?”

“Nowhere.” Haymitch brushes it off, “I was just thinking.”

“Thinking about Y/N?”

“Isn’t it fucked up how someone like that could love someone me?”

“In what way?” Dr. Aurelius asks.

“I mean you’ve met her.” Haymitch huffs, “had a few sessions.”

“Sure.”

“She’s special.”

The doctor lets him speak.

“She’s a good person. She’s smart and she’s funny and she deserves the world.” Haymitch shifts in the chair, “she got me instead. Not exactly a fair trade.”

“I don’t think she feels that way.” The doctor informs him.

“Hmm,” Haymitch mulls it over.

“From the sound of it, you have always been very protective. Now you tend the children, so she can aide the rebellion. That must be hard for you.”

Haymitch scoffs, “I want to chase her down and bring her back.”

“Then why haven’t you.”

“If you love something, you set it free or some bullshit like that.”

“You love her deeply.”

“Coin offered to ‘dissolve’ our marriage. Did Y/N tell you that?” Haymitch changes the subject.

Aurelius sighs, “she didn’t mention it.”

“Tell me, oh great one, what does that mean?”

“Her mind is made up about you, Haymitch. Whether it’s right or wrong, no matter who deserves what, the heart wants what it wants. You are what she wants.”

“I want her too,” Haymitch snaps.

“You’ve mentioned that you struggle with the fact that Y/N didn’t get to choose you as a partner. Yet each time she does, you cannot accept that she is choosing you. As though you feel unworthy, unlovable.”

“Is that your official diagnosis?” Haymitch wonders, making no effort to confirm or deny.

The doctor flips quickly between entries in his notebook. “There is no distinction in any area of your relationship, a true lack of boundaries. All of your triumphs and failures, all of your sadness and your joy, is either sourced from her or the lives you’ve created together.” Dr. Aurelius tosses both hands up. “The greatest tragedies ever written are love stories, after all.”

Part 18

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @daisydaisybilly

#haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x reader #thg haymitch #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x yn #haymitch abernathy fanfic #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #moves & countermoves

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acearchivist359 · 3 months ago

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something i can’t stop thinking about is that at this point pretty much everyone has been mentioned except melanie. which is especially confusing to me considering the archives character name drops/mentions/cameos we’ve been getting have all been because of celia [with the exception of gertrude and gerry which came from sam’s email from “john”]

first we had georgie which would make sense from celia, she spent a lot of time with georgie in the apocalypse, she trusted georgie, she knew georgie. she likely knew if this georgie was anything like archives georgie that she could help her

then we had jon and martin which . considering jon’s position in the apocalypse and his relevance to the magnus institute it would make sense for her to look for him and suspect that he may be involved or worth looking in to. martin likely was lumped in with jon because of his importance to jon which is something celia would know or at least have an inkling of. considering by the time jon and martin got to the tunnels they were practically attached at the hip not to mention the way jon tore out of there like a bat out of hell after martin when annabelle took him. but jon would have been the more important person to look for cause celia knew what he was, they all did, at least to the extent that he was like, melanie and georgie, unaffected by the apocalypse. they also knew jon was melanies boss [at least laverne did but i’m going to assume it was common knowledge]. if i got taken from a world that just had an apocalypse and ended up researching the very same place i ended up hiding during said apocalypse i too would look for the man who was at one point in charge of that place.

then there’s helen and basira which are interesting additions, if a bit confusing. far as i remember, and as i’ve seen people point out, celia’s only interaction with helen was helen trying to eat her. she never knew helen in any capacity other than that. celia didn’t work in the archives like melanie or basira or martin so she would have only seen helen as a monster. it’s possible she knew more about her from melanie but . we can’t confirm any of that. i think it’s safe to assume that’s how she knows helen’s full name, unless helen introduce herself, but that’s neither here nor there.

and basira . i don’t remember if they met? i’ve seen a lot of people saying they didn’t but i really don’t remember. clearly celia knew who basira was, we can see that especially after tmagp 24. like with helen, it’s definitely possible she heard about basira from melanie and gerogie. especially considering melanie and basira were pretty good friends, they out for drinks together, they hung out. it’s perfectly reasonable to think that melanie would have been concerned for basira and may have discussed that.

but that still begs the question of where is melanie now? when the point is looking into the magnus institute and now we’re looking into helen richardson and we’ve not had even a mention of melanie? melanie who actually worked in the archives, even longer than basira did? melanie who celia knew and knew well, just as well as she would have georgie?

it just confuses me that she’s not even been remotely mentioned despite being a notable member of the archives staff in later seasons and someone celia was friends with. especially when you consider almost everyone of the last of the archives staff has been mentioned [jon, martin and basira] and the only ones who haven’t are melanie and daisy.

daisy not being mentioned is t much of a mystery because celia definitely didn’t meet her cause she was dead before celia even met jon and martin. that being said with the stuff with basira that’s starting to make less sense too. but where is melanie??

#i’m just very confused by this #i didn’t mean to ramble so much but oh well #i don’t have friends who listen to tmagp or have even finished tma so #i don’t have anyone to discuss this with #maybe i need to make more friends ?#tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tmagp 24 #the magnus protocol #the magnus protocol spoilers #celia ripley

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bullet-prooflove · 7 months ago

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Bronco: Travis Wheatley x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

Travis Wheatley falls in love when he sees you riding Bronco.

The Montana Rider’s Association are bringing back the women’s event for the first time since the forties and the prize, it rivals anything he’s seen in Dallas.

The aim of the game is to stay on the horse for eight seconds, no matter how much it may fight you. It’s messy, violent and adrenaline inducing.

“She needs the money.” Rip tells him as the two of them watch you from behind the fence that circles around the arena. “She’s just coming out of a messy divorce, she let the bastard have everything just so she could keep the horse. He told her he’d have it put down if he ever got his hands on it.”

The horse is called Artemis, she’s a white Arabian with a sleek coat and a glossy mane. They’re known as a light breed, excelling in both strength and agility, great for barrel racing. He’d fawned all over her when he’d first laid eyes on her. She was a gorgeous creature, spirited, well cared for. The two of you are a match made in heaven.

“He sounds like a nasty son of a bitch.” Travis says as he sips from his bottle of beer, his breath catching as the Bronco tosses you. Those three seconds it takes you to move are the longest of his life but then you get back up on your feet, a little dirty, a little battered and you go again.

You’re the ballsiest damn woman he’s ever met.

“Malcom Beck.” Rip tells him and the name triggers something inside of Travis. He’s heard the rumours, cruel to his horses and to his wife, which was why she was always travelling the country competing in barrel rolling competitions. “He blackballed her from all the other stables, which is why we’re housing Artemis here. It’s not enough that he took everything, he needs to make her life difficult too.”

“She leave him?” Travis asks, his gaze straying down to his watch as he counts the seconds because your back on that Bronco and this time you’re staying put.

“The women she could put up with but then he tried to stop her competing, tried to take the horse.” Rip shakes his head, his palm rubbing across his grizzled chin. “It was the only thing that gave her any joy in that piece of shit marriage.”

You make eight seconds, and then you do it again and again and again until Lloyd calls you off because both you and the Bronco are both tired. Travis greets you at the gate with a beer and you press the cool glass against your flushed cheeks before you pop the cap off.

You have that look in your eyes, the same bright, exhilarated look that he gets when he’s competing. There’s a wildness in you right now, your husband he tried to tame it, stifle it but Travis he wants to run with it, all the way out into the mountains and however far it goes.

“You wanna get into some trouble tonight?” He asks you, his shoulder bumping against yours as you both sit down on the grass outside the arena. “No strings, just a mutual thing between two people who haven’t felt tenderness in a while.”

It’s quiet now, Rip and Lloyd are seeing to the Bronco whilst the others are camping up in the pastures with one of the herds. There’s a peacefulness to it, a stillness you never get tired of. You could live forever up here in the valley, soaking in the tranquillity of it.

“I don’t believe for a single second it’s been that long for you cowboy.” You say, leaning back in the grass. Travis follows suit, his arm propping up his head as he studies you.

The warmth of his body rolls over your skin, the hem of his t-shirt creeping up to reveal a slither of firm, tan muscle. It’s been a long time since you wanted a man, since you craved the unyielding thrust of his cock deep inside you.

“It’s been over a year.” He tells you, picking a daisy and using it to trail up along the inside of your forearm. It’s a euphoric sensation, the gentle trace of petals over your flesh sending a thrill of anticipation chasing through every single one of your synapses.

“I ain’t got nobody back home waiting for me and from what I hear you don’t either.” He murmurs, the daisy slipping from his fingers as his thumb chases along the line of your jaw. “Why shouldn’t we take a little pleasure in one another, enjoy ourselves.”

There’s an ache in you, a fierce heat that licks through your veins likes a wildfire as his nose trails along the length of yours, his lips ghosting lightly over your mouth. That kiss, it’s full of everything you’ve been missing, passion, sensuality and above all promise, promise that it’s not just about him tonight, it’s about you.

“Oh honey,” He whispers against your lips. “The two of us are going to have some fun.”

Love Travis? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#travis wheatley #travis wheatley x reader #travis wheatley x you #yellowstone #taylor sheridan

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charliedawn · 1 year ago

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Hey, slashers idea.

How would they take of you when you're sick?

Pennywise :

Pennywise would look at you and burst out laughing like there’s no tomorrow. Human suffering is just funny to him for some reason.

Pennywise: "You are sick ?! Now, that’s hilarious !"

The Penny Brothers can’t get sick. At all. So, he’d find it entertaining, especially since they usually never see you so weak.

He’d enjoy it at first, but he’d soon grow worried and try to help you the best he can while pretending he doesn’t care.

Pennywise *pats your back while you sleep* : "…Hey. The nurses said it was serious. Don’t know if it’s true or not, just get better, alright ?"

Pennywise may act like a jerk most of the time, but deep down ? He cares.

Michael Myers :

Michael would try his best to understand how to help you, but would be clueless and would read whatever he can on the subject.

At the end, he would just make sure nobody gets close to your room while you rest and bring you water and soup.

He’d be your bodyguard and make sure the other slashers stay away while you rest—only allowing the doctors in.

He’d also try to check on you and your fever regularly. He’d be holding your hand and give you whatever comfort he can.

No way he’s leaving your side until he’s sure you’re going to be alright.

Bo Sinclair:

Bo: "Now, ain’t ya ‘bsolutely adorable ? All weak and livid. Careful. Heard that people used to die from tiny little colds…"

Bo would tease you, but he’d still make sure you get some rest at the end. He just likes to play with people and get you all worked up. If you react, it means it’s not serious and he doesn’t have to intervene.

However, if he sees that you are really sick ?

He’d gladly grab any doctor in the hospital and make sure they do their job…

Bo: "Can’t ya see it’s bad ?! Whatya standin’ over there like a bunch of daisies for when sunshine’s over there—suffering ?!"

Penny:

Penny would look over you from the shadows and cuddle with you when you want a little comfort during your sick days.

He’d also bring you his favourite games, so you don’t get bored.

However, he knows he doesn’t know anything about coughs and sickness in general. He’d stay at the feet of your bed and hear your breathing.

As long as you’re breathing, he’d stay calm and collected. He’d let the doctors do their jobs and only growl in warning from time to time if he feels that they’re hurting you.

He’d bring you snacks and make sure you don’t get bored while you rest.

Jason:

Jason: "…"

The man would understand, but he wouldn’t have a clue of how to help you.

He’d hug you and hope for the best.

Freddy:

Freddy would take care of your dreams and that you don’t get lost. Sick people often get very wild dreams and can get lost in them sometimes.

You *looking at the sky turning multiple colours and slowly enveloping you* : "…Wow. So pretty."

Freddy *grabs you* : "Whatya doin’ here, sweetheart ? Shouldn’t be out there on your own, buddy. Come on. Back in the world of the living we go."

He’d make sure your mind stays afloat, because even though he loves chaos and would love seeing you completely lose it…He’d lose something more important. He’d lose you.

Jack Torrance:

You: "I’m not sick…"

Him *looks you up and down* : "Yeah. And am not dead. Now, get back to bed."

No bullshit policy. You’re sick, you’re sick. He’d drag you back to bed if he has to—because he knows first hand that life is short and death comes quickly.

Jack would also bring you pills to sleep and get better. He may be a ghost, but he’s already been sick when he was alive.

He may be the one who can help you the best.

Brahms:

Brahms would take care of you. He’d bring you breakfast in bed and make sure you get some good rest.

Also, he’s wall boy. He’d watch over you at night and make sure you don’t overwork yourself.

However, he’d also cuddle with you at night and not let you go anywhere without him. He’d get clingy and would follow you to the kitchen or the bathroom.

And don’t even try to get away.

Brahms *appears behind you after you woke up to get a glass of water* : "Go…Back to…Bed."

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms x reader #bo sinclair x reader #jack torrance x reader

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celestiarambles · 1 month ago

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hi this may be a bit random but i just want to point out how deep misogyny runs in the cc fandom, starting with how some people judge and criticize the mother characters in cc with so much vitriol, while the cc fathers are given more leeway with the things they do. good examples of this are the knight family and the douglas family.

(s2 and s3 spoilers ahead, and maybe a bit of a trigger warning as well for alcoholism mentions!!)

so starting with karen, people’s immediate impression of her was that she was “a bitch” for divorcing frank due to his alcoholism and for “not letting him see his daughter”. people even go out of their way to say karen filed a restraining order against frank — which was not true btw!! karen loves frank, but while they were both understandably grieving for their dead daughter, frank being an alcoholic was a bad thing for his other daughter to grow up with. karen divorced frank because she wanted him to get himself together. and it was not karen who didn’t want to see frank, it was DAISY who did. maybe it was because she was still angry at him due to his alcoholism and him being emotionally absent in his daughter’s life. karen still left the decision up to her daughter. and it was totally valid for daisy to react that way; she could understand why her father ended up being an alcoholic, but she can still be mad at him at the same time. and in another way, frank feeling guilty about his actions and regretting the way he treated his daughter doesn’t change the fact that to daisy, he was a bad father.

but back to karen, the hate got even worse with frank’s betrayal. people even added a “manipulative” to the “bitch”. she was now a “manipulative bitch” because she “blackmailed frank to do the things he did or else he would never see daisy again.” now i understand why frank did what he did, but truth be told, he did worse things than karen WILLINGLY. he even admits to it and defends karen, saying she never manipulated him!! and he even tells the player and amy that HE WAS UNREDEEMABLE AT THAT POINT. he had the chance to defend himself, but he defended karen instead!! in fact, karen was also manipulated by tesla!! karen organized the heist and did all the things she did just to save her daughter, but people call her an evil, manipulative bitch for it and A BAD MOTHER. while frank does worse for the same reasoning, but people say that karen manipulated him and he’s a good father for doing everything he did for his family.

and then with angela, god. i remember watching pitchingace88 and rolling my eyes whenever he would complain about angela getting worried for her daughters. he insinuates that she’s a bad mother for letting one of her daughters help with the autopsy, and he would yell at her to watch her kids whenever one of them goes missing!! and people blame her for the shenanigans her daughters do like the whole crossbow thing!! but when lars accidentally loses one of their daughters under his watch, somehow the blame STILL GETS SHIFTED UNTO ANGELA!! and people even say he’s the more “responsible parent” just because he doesn’t like talking about gory details of a murder around his kids!!

like people kind of ignore the reason why their daughters ended up tagging along with them in east asia at the first place; lars wanted to move his family to india on a whim without even consulting angela, and when angela gets furious at him for it, somehow people still call her a bitch for it!! angela clearly knows how dangerous their line of work is and clearly doesn’t like the idea of it, but at the same time she misses the girls because they rarely spend time with them, so she eventually warms up to the idea. but that doesn’t change the fact she was upset at lars for it. it would also be exhausting for the girls to go to a totally different country to meet their parents, only for them to immediately get sent back after. LARS EVEN ACKNOWLEDGES AND APOLOGIZES TO ANGELA SAYING THAT WHAT HE DID WAS WRONG!! and in east asia, it was clearly shown and mentioned that lars and angela take turns with watching over their kids, but whenever something happens to their daughters, people still find a way to blame and hate angela for it.

edit: also found a comment in one of pitchingace88’s videos saying that angela ONLY DOES AUTOPSIES, therefore she should be able to watch her kids so it’s her fault 😭 like what

listen, i don’t hate the male characters mentioned, but it’s okay to like and understand a character while acknowledging their faults at wrongdoings at the same time. and we’ve gotta expand our media literacy and stop the hate for the female characters. if frank and lars could hear the shit some people are saying about their wives, they would not like them 🥰

#criminal case #criminal case game #i’m so tired #criminal case save the world #criminal case pacific bay #stop the misogyny in cc!!

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skarsjoy · 6 months ago

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NEW portraits and interview from British GQ

Alexander Skarsgård on his “emotional support” tuxedo at the Met Gala 2024

“Going to these types of events is quite stressful”

By Daisy Jones, 7 May 2024

For Alexander Skarsgård, prep for the Met Gala 2024 starts weeks beforehand. Not physically – that doesn’t take long at all – but mentally. “I ask my family to, every time they see me, call out ‘Alex! Alex! Over here!’ to get ready for the press line. And throw out a lot of questions, like ‘Alex! Alex! What are you wearing? You look amazing!’” he says in his Nordic meets American twang, amusement dancing down the phone line.

He’s joking of course. But he’s also not. Events like the Met Gala can be “quite stressful” and “intense”, says Skarsgård. There’s a lot of adrenaline. Flashing lights. Faces in every direction. So on the day of, he likes to keep things comparatively quiet: staying inside, reading a book, mooching around in silence until it’s time to get ready. After the Met Gala, to decompress, he does exactly the same thing. “It’s a lot of fun, you meet a lot of friends, a lot of people you've met throughout the years and haven’t seen in a while. But again, you’re drained. Being in a quiet hotel room on my own is quite nice a few hours beforehand and I feel the same way after.”

We’re speaking a couple of hours before the big event, and although he says that red carpets like this can be stressful, he sounds relatively relaxed, joking and laughing often (although he is an actor, so). He hasn’t gotten dressed yet – he’ll be wearing a custom double-breasted wool suit by Calvin Klein, a brand he’s worked with for over a decade – with his hair styled in the way he usually wears it (no product, no shampoo for a day or two). “Because my hair’s very straight, I look like a Monchhichi doll when I wash my hair,” he says.

It was the timelessness of the tuxedo that spoke to him. After all, The Garden of Time (1962) by J.G. Ballard – this year's dress code – is all about the inevitable march of time, and trying to hold onto it for as long as possible. “I wanted to go for something timeless but also in my mind a throwback to James Cagney; that kind of double-breasted Hollywood look from the 1930s and 1940s. But then obviously, from Calvin Klein, it’s a slimmer silhouette with some classical components in terms of the rich wool fabric and the cut of it; the little details that I thought were really interesting.”

Did he have any other ideas ahead of the night before he landed on this one? “I felt like there are so many ways to go,” he says, that amusement creeping back into his voice. “You could go in a stone suit, because the couple obviously turned into stone at the end of the story. But we had to scrap that idea because moving in stone pants would be pretty difficult. Another version would be to go completely naked, I’m sure someone will do that on the red carpet. Because the exhibition involves a lot of very old, very fragile pieces that can’t be worn so that’s an interesting way to interpret it.” In the end, the tuxedo seemed the least extreme. “It helps to wear something that you’re very comfortable in. An emotional support outfit.”

His own style has always been understated and classic – and he doesn't like to buy an entirely new tux every time he attends a red carpet, never to wear it again. “The Met Gala is fun because it’s the only time of the year in which I have several fittings and wear something that’s tailor-made to me,” he says. “Normally, I have a couple of suits, one being my Calvin Klein suit from 10 years ago. I usually wear that to events. I don’t want [the situation to be that] every time you’re on the red carpet, you have to wear something new and then never wear it again. I think we consume enough in our society, that’s not something I’d want to promote or endorse.”

Despite the fact his own style is mostly understated, his favourite clothing item isn't understated at all. And he's wearing them right now: his Infinity Pool shorts, merch based on the Brandon Cronenberg film he appeared in last year. It's an insane film, one in which he plays a complicated, wildly hedonistic novelist. “They did some rare limited edition clothing and they gave me a pair of shorts and I love them. I wear them all the time. I have mixed feelings because it says ‘Infinity Pool’ all over my ass and the front is a profile of my face in neon as it's being scanned. It feels very narcissistic to walk around with a pair of shorts with the name of a movie you're in on your ass, and the front is your own face, but fortunately you can't really tell.”

Skarsgård won't be partying into the night post Met Gala. Sure, he'll go to a few post-gala events, but he needs to get some sleep. He'll be flying to Toronto first thing in the morning, where he's filming The Murderbot Diaries, a new sci-fi action comedy series with Apple TV+. “I play an android who has hacked his system so he’s got – or it’s got – free will, and it’s talking about going on these crazy adventures, but instead it’s watching soap operas,” he says.

“It’s been a blast for the last couple of months. I’m sure I’ll be tired going to Toronto tomorrow, but I am looking forward to it.”

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgård #Met Gala 2024 #Calvin Klein #Murderbot

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