#and if people like that then perhaps i am happy

[maureen-corpse]

I think you have a bad perception of the romance genre!

Now, I see that this was initially about the manga I'm a Wolf, but My Boss is a Sheep! and I haven't been reading a lot of comics lately, so of course take everything I'm going to say with a grain of salt, but I do read a decent number of romance novels, and genre romance has lot of conventions.

So! Prose-wise, genre romance has a pretty defined structure and a pretty defined goal (the HEA or HFN) and then you're done. If you depart from it too much, you will lose your reader, and then you will get bad reviews, you will get a reputation for writing outside of the genre you claim to be a part of, and you will not get money for writing alleged romance where they die at the end or something.

(I'm just getting in a dig there at people who aren't here; from time to time on Book Twitter you will see someone roll up and say, "I am going to change the romance genre forever--my characters won't have a happily ever after!" and then the romance readers who know what to expect from genre romance--a happily ever after or happy for now--will say, "No, no, if you try that, the reviews will kill your career, if you even successfully get into the romance section at the store." The term "romance" is an important marketing tool.)

Now, anyway, this proposal that a romance story not be able to the formation of a relationship, but rather about the time in the HEA...I believe you are simply proposing, here, a different genre. All kinds of stories happen to people who are happily in relationships. A nosy amateur detective in a cozy mystery might well be married. (A nosy amateur detective in a cozy mystery might even start the twenty-book series unattached, meet a hard-boiled PI, and form a relationship that is ultimately happy--all while solving twenty mysteries.)

Now, a story that doesn't have another genre like that, however--well, that will just be...general fiction. Slice of life, perhaps? (I suspect "slice of life" is more likely a descriptor for comics than for prose.) But calling it Romance will just annoy the Romance readers. And while each person is the center of their own universe, their experiences are not universal, and the readers of genre romance are probably more numerous than readers who want to call things Romance that don't fit into current genre conventions.

Now, as for these suggestions about people's bad perceptions of relationships: I will assert that people don't actually want to read about real relationships. This is evidenced by the fact that they happily read about the wild shit that happens in romance novels. People want to fantasize about a little light dubcon with a rakish marquess in a castle or about seducing a woman who is also a car or something, but they don't want these things to happen in real life. Goodness knows I don't have any interest in marrying a man and then being unknowingly widowed as his twin brother takes his place to try and keep me from finding out so that I won't lose the baby*, but it certainly is fun to read about.

Preferring to read about the drama of people eloping to Gretna Green or being rescued in the snowy forest by a mysterious wolf woman over reading something steady and smooth like the simple day-to-day of living in the wolf woman's cave (if it's not steady and smooth, by the way, I propose that it would likely become an adventure or drama or action story; a different genre altogether) does not mean someone has a bad perception of relationships. It means they have a preference for what they read. It also probably means they've been reading genre romance , are familiar with the structure and conventions, enjoy the structure and conventions, and don't care to adopt something new, even if they don't say, "Well, the genre convention is this and I like it fine."

I am very lucky in that "responding to other Tumblr users" is not a genre with widely accepted conventions so this doesn't have a strict structure of any sort to stick to, because I feel it is disorganized. But I also feel like maybe you don't actually like genre romance. And that's fine! You just have to find the things that are for you.

*Lorraine Heath, The Earl Takes All

So I posted this elsewhere yesterday but like...

Why does almost every romance series spend all the time in the world on getting the two characters into the “actually dating” phase and then immediately zip to “married with kids and now the series is over.”

This is, currently, about “I'm a Wolf, but My Boss is a Sheep!” which was very fun and cute and I enjoyed it a lot!

But I wanna see the meat of things too dammit! Don’t skip over the actual relationship! That’s the best part!

A lot of folks mentioned it's "an easier story structure to follow the building of a relationship", that "real relationships are hard work and unromantic", that it's more fun to focus on "THE CHASE" and "THE DRAMA", and I legitimately cannot disagree more.

I should note I’m very much on the Ace/Aro side so all those replies and quotes saying “THE DRAMA/CHASE IS FUN” is so counter to how my brain works.

I legitimately hate the drama, I don’t understand the chase, I just wanna see the characters I like grow together and be happy.

The drama is boring and gross and often times just like... sets bad examples for how real relationships are.

Anyway, I'm rambling, but it's just very frustrating.

[frostara]

Challenges

Cregan Stark x Karstark!Female

Synopsis: It takes some time to get to know each other, and lots of words to understand.

Wordcount: 2k

Tags: characters miscommunicate at first, but overall fluff, Cregan is 17, Astrid is 15

Notes: Hi! This could be read as chapter 2 for this work, but does pretty well on its own. All thanks to one person who asked for a second part - I hope you'll like it </3 I wanted to describe Cregan and Astrid the way they are - youthful people, with their own beliefs that are sometimes wrong (Astrid is so silly I love her) and quick to change temper. I worked on this drabble a little harder and hopefully, it was worth it!

Winterfell was like a living being—always alert and ready, yet calm and composed. It thrived with the quiet bustle of its people, the rustle of dry bushes, and cold of its stone walls. A guarded place, where the only thing Astrid had to worry about was herself. At least for now.

One moon have passed since she was wed to the Lord of the Winterfell, and yet, she felt rather wary of him. Cregan, whom she called so yet in her mind, was always surrounded by either maister-at-arms or castellan, which left her seeking his attention that he could not give.

Though, Astrid would be forever ungrateful if said that she was entirely alone. She had grown quite fond of maester Alvin, an old grey-haired man, but skilled and cunning like no one. He often inquired after her well-being with genuine courtesy and shared his wise thoughts, for which she was forever grateful.

Yet the companionship of one old master could not fill the void of loneliness. Her handmaidens, taught to serve their lady quietly, rarely spoke unless adressed directly. To make them speak freely was a challenge, but one she welcomed.

"My Lady, Lord Cregan sent me to let it be known that he awaits you in Godswood, and I am to accompany You on Your way," said Ethel as she entered chambers after a gentle knock. She was a pretty girl, not much older than Astrid, and probably the one she was fond of.

"Right. Well then, let us not keep the Lord waiting," - Astrid replied, standing perhaps more quickly than intended, letting Ethel drape a warm cloak over her frame to shield her from wind in this chilly weather.

As they made their way, her nervousness spilled in questions she bothered Ethel with: "Was Lord in a good mood? Did he seem upset with anything? Was he alone?" She could swear on all Old Gods that Ethel was laughing at her, but skillfully maintained her composure. Though, Astrid was too nervous to pay attention to that, pressing on. Luckily, the walk was short, and soon they were able to see the red leaves that framed the massive tree. Ethel bowed and turned her back, leaving Astrid to herself.

She took a moment to steady herself before stepping closer to where Cregan stood. She felt cold seep through her body, making her shiver. Heart tree was there, proudly emracing everything with its branches as if hiding from the sky. He looked like a real Stark, in a place he was always supposed to be. And Astrid was just a huble guest, even if being his wife. Light wind was playing with his dark hair, moving leaves casting shadows on his stern face.

"My Lord wished to see me?"

He turned to face her, his black eyes softening slightly as a polite smile tugged at his lips. "I did. I wish to know how my Lady fares."

Cregan walked towards her, and it was only then that she noticed a crimson leaf he was holding in his hand. She returned his smile, though uncertain of what to say. He seemed to be unbothered by silence that layed between them, as he studied her appearance. During their wedding he barely payed attention to her. Perhaps, that was why he was observing her so carefully now.

"I am very happy to be here," - Astrid nodded to her words, as if to make sure he believed her. "Winterfell does not cease to amaze me."

Cregan hummed to himself, not really putting his mind to her words. He seemed lost in thoughts, and these thoughts were far away from here. Far from her. She felt subtle sting in her when she thought of it. Why did he call her, if he still did not care about her being?

He was still holding the leaf in his callused hands, twirling it with his fingers when he brought it to her, putting it in her braided hair.

"Red suits you well. Has anyone told you that before?"

He murmured, seeming to be pleased with his work, running his fingers along her braid, his lingering touch leaving Astrid speechless. Her eyes widened as she tried to hide her confusion. He was gentle, almost reverent, and it warmed her heart in a way she never felt before. Was this the first time he truly saw her as a wife?

"No, my Lord. I believe you are the first to notice."

Cregan took his hand away from her hair, offering his elbow for her to grab. "Very well. Let us walk, I would not wish for you to get cold while standing here," - as he put his hand on his sword.

Astrid hesitated a moment before wrapping her fingers around his clothed arm, feeling the soft fur and fabric of his cloack, contrasting with his cold and rough to touch sword, accepting the offer. It pleased her more than she cared to admit to spend time with him in the godswood, a sacred place. Though it was still a mystery to her, what made him be so attentive to her today?

It was very quiet there, only rare birds chirping and leaves rustle could be heard. Astrid took a deep breath, enjoying frosty and fresh air that smelled of wood and earth. She found this moment very peaceful, this walk was a sweet gesture and it was not nice of her to doubt her husbands kindness.

"I have been thinking about our marriage," Cregan began after a while. "It seems to me that I have not fulfilled my duties to you. For this, I ask your understanding, and, perhaps, your forgiveness."

Cregan turned his gaze to her, awaiting what she has to say. She was now taken aback by his words. A suspicious thought was starting to form in her head - his previous behaviour could not be judged, it fitted his position. But these gentle words now were not sounding like the ones he would actually say. An odd feeling took place in her, yet, she could only listen to him right now.

"It is no secret to me how tiring your position may be," she started carefully. "And I could never hold it against you."

She studied his face, searching for any sign of anger or discomfort. Yet a gnawing curiosity urged her to push further. Astrid evased any other words from him, now being curious to get an answer for her thoughts:

"My Lord, if I may ask, did someone suggest that you speak to me like that?" - she stopped, making her husband follow her action, now facing each other. He was confused, and he could not hide that, making it obvious he was not prepared for such confrontation. Astrid believed there was also a hint of irritation in his expression.

"In what way are you implying this?" he asked, his tone guarded but lacking the harshness she feared.

Cregan even forgot to adress her properly. It made Astrid smile ever so slightly, now making her scared that she could offend him with her words.

"Do not misunderstand me, my Lord, but your actions are...rather opposing your character, which makes me suggest that you might have sought an advice about our relationship from someone."

She tried her best to sound friendly and not too arrogant, but confused look on his face eased her worries - he probably could not be angry with her now, that he looked so amusing. Astrid awaited patiently, when he finally spoke up.

"First of all, do not jest with me in such a way," he replied, his voice firm but lacking true anger. "I may be your husband, but my behavior is none of yours to question."

He glanced away, looking in direction of a bird that landed on a low-hanging branch nearby. The pause gave Astrid a moment to collect herself, and she only smiled at her thoughts, now being more confident to continue.

"Forgive me," her tone sincere. "I only wanted to make sure I understood the situation well." She reached out, lightly tugging on his sleeve to draw his attention back to her. The gesture startled him, and instinctively, he caught her hand in his. For a moment, they stood frozen, her smaller hand caught in his. He did not let go, and his grip, though firm, was not harsh.

Wind sent another gust as couple of bright red leaves fell from tree, falling at their legs. Laying onthe ground, they could be mistaken for small pools of blood. It sent a shiver down Astrid's spine, the movement was visible for Cregan. It made him snap from frozen state as he let her hand hung in the air, bringing his own to his sword, slight embarrasment from an intimate moment made him cough, as if to shift their attention away.

But Astrid still was confused. Was she right then? Perhaps, her behaviour made it impossible for her Lord to seek her company? She felt nervousness fill her heart once again, making her clasp her hands together on stomach, as if trying to calm herself down.

"Maester Alvin is someone you could consider guilty," Cregan's voice cut through silence, breaking the formed pause.

"Though, I believe, his intentions were kind."

"Should I be grateful for it then?" she bit on her inner cheeck, fidgeting with cold fingers. Astrid felt emarrased: she probably looked so stupid right now; her concern made her act very rude, or atleast, that is what she believed.

"You could at least try to not to be mad at me."

He rubbed the back of his neck, as if looking for the right words. The situation they currently trapped themselves in was quite awkward. Astrid hummed softly at his words in an attemp to answer, but words would get stuck in her throat.

"I am not mad, my Lord" - it was all she could mutter, before quickly facing him away. She was definetly not acting like a modest lady right now. But who was to blame for that?

"Cregan."

Astrid blinked, turning her head back at her husband.

"Call me by my name. You are my wife, you have such right." He shrugged, an unsure smile tugging at his lips.

This time, he held out his hand to her.

"I believe we will have many days to continue this argument, if you wish that," she took his hand, now holding it gently, but with a firm grip, returning his favour as she unconsciously smiled herself.

"But we had spent more than we should have time here. Let us head back to castle, before anyone starts looking for us."

Their way back was more pleasant, as the silence that followed them was now a welcomed one, sometimes interrupted with quiet laughter.

[mxtheialurks]

I'm here, baby. Avis Amberg x !Singer Reader

Hello there, so I noticed there were not a lot of Patti LuPone fics. Or... perhaps I have already read all of them...? But here it is, a 'Hollywood' fanfic between Avis Amberg and !Singer Reader.

Word count: 2928 Warnings: none

------------------------------------------------------------

“Get your head out of the gutter, kid!” Ernie yells, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look down and realize with a jolt that you’ve overfilled a customer’s gas tank, the fuel spilling over the edges.

“Oh my God, Ernie! I’m so sorry, I—”

Ernie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Save it, kid. Go to my office. We need to have a little chat,” he says, his voice calm but heavy with disappointment.

From the small office window, you watch as Ernie talks to the man whose car you overfilled. Your stomach twists in knots as the man laughs, pulls out a crisp hundred-dollar bill, and drives off, still chuckling.

Inside, you sit anxiously, rubbing your temples as your mind spirals. Am I going to get fired? Suspended without pay? The possibilities whirl around your head like a storm until Ernie finally walks in. He lights a cigarette, inhales deeply, then coughs out the smoke.

Before you can say a word, he cuts you off. “Alright, what’s going on with you, Y/N? You’ve been so out of it lately. Did that guy say something to you? Something about... Dreamland?”

Your heart races, and a nervous sweat beads on your forehead. Ernie notices immediately, his expression softening as he drops to one knee in front of you.

“Tell me,” he says gently. “Did he?”

Tears spring to your eyes, and your voice wavers as you manage to stammer, “Yes, and I—I just froze...”

Without hesitation, Ernie pulls you into a hug, his large arms wrapping around you protectively. “There, there, kid,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You know you don’t have to do anything like that, right? You’re here to help me out, not deal with people looking for a good time. That is not why you’re here.” He reminds you. 

He pulls back, his voice breaking slightly as he continues, “I know how hard it’s been at home since your mom—my sister—passed away.”

You sniffle, wiping your eyes, as Ernie stands up and pats your shoulder. “The guy whose tank you overfilled? He’s an old buddy of mine. Didn’t realize you were Martha’s daughter until I told him. He laughed it off and even handed me a hundred bucks as an apology.”

He reaches into his shirt pocket, pulls out the bill, and presses it into your hand. “Now, go wipe those tears and buy yourself something nice, okay?”

A small smile breaks through your tears as you hug him tightly.

“Happy 23rd birthday, kid,” he says softly, kissing your forehead.

--------------------------------

After shedding your gas station uniform, you head to the town’s boutique, Uncle Ernie’s words ringing in your ears. It’s not often you get the chance—or the means—to splurge on yourself.

The boutique feels like another world, the faint scent of vanilla candles mixing with the polished wood floors and soft hum of instrumental music. Your gaze drifts instinctively to the rack where that dress once hung.

You’ve been dreaming about it for months—a red dress with a daring slit that cuts mid-thigh. It was perfect in every way, except for the price tag. You’d promised yourself you’d buy it someday, but that day never came. Life has a way of pushing dreams aside for bills and groceries.

“Looking for something, miss?” a cheerful clerk asks, breaking your thoughts.

“Yes,” you reply, hesitantly. “Do you still have that red dress? The one with the slit—”

Before you can finish, she nods knowingly. “Wait here.”

You tap your fingers against the counter as she disappears into the back. The minutes stretch long, and your heart pounds with a mix of hope and apprehension. Then she returns, holding it.

“Here you go,” she says with a smile, presenting the dress like it’s a treasure.

Your breath catches as you take it in your hands. The fabric is even softer than you remember, the color more vibrant. Without a second thought, you pull out your wallet, the crisp bills from Uncle Ernie making it possible.

Moments later, you step out of the boutique, a grin spreading across your face. The dress swings from your hand, a symbol of something rare and precious—joy that’s yours alone.

Back at your apartment, you hold the boutique bag in hand, still glowing with excitement when a voice startles you.

“What’d you get, kid?”

“AHHH!” you scream, nearly jumping out of your skin. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ernie! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaim, clutching your chest and gasping for air.

“What? Can’t an uncle visit his darling niece?” he replies, unbothered, taking a drag on his ever-present cigar.

“We just saw each other earlier! What do you want?” you ask, exasperated.

He chuckles, his laugh as gruff as his demeanor. “Well, kid, I figured you’d spend your birthday alone in this crappy apartment, so I’ve got a surprise for you. I’m taking you to dinner—me, you, Aunt Ellen, and my good friend Avis.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Avis? You mean Avis Amberg? The owner of Ace Studios?”

Ernie nods smugly.

“Why would a big shot like her come to a birthday dinner for someone she doesn’t even know? Ernie, I’m nobody—”

“Kid, nobody is nobody in this town,” he interrupts, jabbing the air for emphasis. “Once Avis meets you, she’ll see what I see—someone who’s something.”

You snort at his dramatics.

“Come on, Y/N,” he persists, rubbing your shoulders. “You’ve always wanted to be a singer, right? Who knows—maybe she’ll have you record backing tracks for her movies. Whaddya say, hmm?”

You let out a resigned sigh. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit!” he exclaims, slapping his thigh with glee. “Now doll up. Wear that sparkly red dress of yours—”

You freeze, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wait a minute. How do you know I have a ‘sparkly red dress’ in this bag?” You hold up the sheathed garment for emphasis.

Ernie smirks, his cigar bobbing in the corner of his mouth. “Kid, you’ve been gawking at that dress every time we passed Ursula’s boutique. You think I don’t notice? Besides,” he adds with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows, “Ursula and I go way back.”

Your face twists in disgust as you chuck a shoe at him. He ducks out of the way, laughing as he retreats toward the door.

“See you at seven, kid! Don’t be late!” he calls out before disappearing with a slam of the door.

You sigh, glancing at the dress. “This better be worth it,” you mutter, already dreading the evening ahead.

--------------------------------

Seven on the dot, just like Ernie said. You stand in front of the restaurant, purse clutched tightly in hand. The cool evening air does little to calm the nervous energy coursing through you. Dolled up and dressed to the nines, you mutter under your breath, “Simple birthday dinner, my ass.”

The thought of the Avis Amberg being inside makes your stomach twist. What if you say the wrong thing? Or laugh awkwardly?

After a minute of deliberation—and a deep, shaky breath—you step inside. Warm air envelops you, carrying with it the sweet and savory aromas of high-end cuisine. The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses fills the room, but it does little to drown out your own thoughts.

At the front desk, you muster your courage. “Reservation for Ernest West?”

The receptionist smiles and nods, promptly leading you to a private room.

On the way there, your thoughts race. A private room? How much did Ernie shell out for this? And with Avis Amberg as an audience? You grip your purse tighter. Oh boy, this is going to be interesting.

The doors to the room swing open, revealing a warm and intimate space. Ernie is the first to greet you, his arms wide as he strides toward you with his trademark exuberance.

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” he exclaims, pulling you into a hearty hug.

Your eyes sweep over the table. To Ernie’s right sits Ellen Kincaid, his ever-gracious wife, offering you a warm smile. Beside Ellen is none other than Avis Amberg herself. The moment your gaze lands on her, it’s as though the world stops spinning.

Avis is a vision in red, every detail impeccable—from her perfectly coiffed updo to the shimmering jewelry that catches the light with every movement. You glance down at your own dress, also red, and feel a pang of insecurity. Great, of all colors to wear tonight...

But Avis is unfazed, her sharp eyes already reading you, assessing you in a way that makes your palms sweat.

Ernie, oblivious to your internal panic, guides you to the table and pulls out a chair. Ellen stands to greet you, kissing both your cheeks warmly, while Avis remains seated, her gaze fixed on you like a hawk sizing up its prey.

When your eyes finally meet, she smiles—a slow, deliberate curve of her lips. Extending her hand, she says, “And you must be the birthday girl.”

You take her hand, shaking it a little too eagerly. “I am—”

“Avis Amberg,” you finish for her, your voice steady despite your nerves.

Her smile sharpens into a grin, her grip firm but elegant. “Well, well, looks like someone did their homework.”

You laugh awkwardly, the sound escaping before you can stop it. Realizing how unpolished it sounds, you quickly cease, pressing your lips together. Ernie catches it, grinning as he moves to his seat. He leans down to kiss Ellen, who playfully smacks his chest.

“Avis, you know us Wests. We always do our homework, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” he says with a wink in Ellen’s direction.

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Yes, darling, you do. Oh, Avis, if I haven’t mentioned it yet, our darling Y/N here is an aspiring singer—with a voice that could bring down stadiums.”

Avis raises a perfectly arched brow, her red lips curving into a faint smile as she looks at you. “Hmm? If Ellen here speaks so highly of you, perhaps I should have you perform at one of my events.”

Your face flushes as a nervous smile spreads across your lips. “Oh no, Miss. Amberg, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you ramble, trying to wave off the compliment. “Singing is more of a hobby, really. I couldn’t possibly be as good as Ellen says.”

Ellen and Ernie exchange incredulous looks.

“Nonsense, kid!” Ernie exclaims, his voice booming with pride. “I’ve heard you sing plenty while working the register, and believe me, my customers stick around just to hear you. Take some credit for once, will ya?”

His laughter fills the room, and even Avis seems amused as she leans forward, her interest clearly piqued.

“You let your niece work at your gas station, Ernie?” she asks, her tone half-curious, half-teasing. “How is it that I’ve never seen her?”

Ernie smirks, waving his hand dismissively. “That’s because you never get out of your goddamn Cadillac, Avis!”

The table bursts into laughter, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eases. Still, the realization dawns on you: Avis Amberg is a regular at Golden Tip.

No wonder the boys at the station always seemed to have a little extra spring in their step, boasting about their big tips from “the lady in red.” So it was her all along—the powerful woman who spent money like it grew on trees.

As the laughter dies down, Avis rests her chin on her hand, her sharp gaze locking onto you. “Well, Y/N, it sounds like you’ve been hiding a talent that the world deserves to hear.”

Her words make your heart race, but the warmth in her tone sparks something new: hope.

“Thank you, Miss Amberg,” you say, your tone polite but still tinged with nervousness.

“Oh, baby,” she waves a hand dismissively, her bracelets jangling softly, “you may call me Avis. You’re making my back ache with all the pleasantries.”

You chuckle lightly, a genuine smile breaking through as you nod. “Well then, thank you, Avis.”

Her lips curl into a grin, pleased by your adjustment. “That’s better,” she says, leaning back in her chair with an air of satisfaction. “Now, tell me, Y/N—what’s your favorite song to sing?”

Her question catches you off guard, and you falter for a moment. “Oh, well, I guess it depends,” you say, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “I like singing jazz, mostly. Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald… their music speaks to me.”

Avis’s eyes light up, the mention of such timeless legends clearly striking a chord. “Ah, the classics,” she says, a touch of admiration in her voice. “Music that comes from the soul. You have good taste.”

Ernie beams at the exchange, clearly proud of you. “See, Avis? Told you the kid’s got it. I’d bet my bottom dollar she could belt out something right here and knock our socks off.”

You quickly shake your head, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Oh, no, I couldn’t! Not here, not now,” you stammer. “I mean, I’m flattered, but I’m not exactly… prepared.”

Ellen chimes in with a gentle laugh, “Oh, don’t mind Ernie. He loves putting people on the spot. But if you ever want to perform, Y/N, I’m sure Avis would love to hear you.”

Avis nods, swirling her glass of wine thoughtfully. “Indeed. There’s something about live music, especially when it comes from a genuine place. You’d be surprised how often talent like yours gets lost in the noise of this town.”

Her words carry weight, and for a moment, you feel as though she’s speaking directly to your deepest fears. Lost in the noise. Ernie, ever the optimist, claps his hands together. “Lost? Not this kid! She’s got a voice people’ll remember. Ain’t that right, Y/N?”

You give a shy smile, nodding slightly. “I guess so. I mean… I hope so.”

Avis’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before she raises her glass. “To hope, then. And to talent that deserves a stage.”

Everyone joins in the toast, raising their glasses with a clink. You sip your drink, the warmth of the moment settling into your chest. For the first time tonight, you feel like you truly belong at the table.

The dinner continued with laughter, stories, and a surprising ease that settled over the table. Ernie, true to form, dominated the conversation with his larger-than-life anecdotes, and Ellen balanced him out with her gentle humor. Avis occasionally chimed in, her remarks sharp and observant, but never unkind.

By the time dessert arrived, you were almost convinced you could get through the night without further incident. That is, until Avis set down her fork, leaned forward, and fixed you with a look that felt both intimidating and encouraging.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone measured, “tell me, what do you really want? In this town, I mean. Surely you’re not content to spend your life working at your uncle’s gas station.”

The question landed heavily, and the table went quiet. Ernie gave you a small nod of encouragement, while Ellen offered a reassuring smile.

You swallowed, your fingers gripping the edge of your napkin. “I… I want to sing,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to perform. To be out there in front of many people, the spotlight is only for me. My voice ringing deliciously in their ears, I want to become a broadway star” 

Avis studied you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Watching you enunciate every word, how your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. Her gaze lingers for a while there and when you finally finish she meets your eyes with enthusiasm. 

“Let me tell you something about this town,” she said, her voice soft but commanding. “It doesn’t matter who you know—or don’t know. What matters is how badly you want it and what you’re willing to do to get it. Talent can only take you so far. The rest? That’s grit.”

You nodded, absorbing her words, though a part of you still doubted your place in a world as ruthless as hers.

Avis seemed to sense this. “You’ve got a spark, Y/N. I can see it. The question is, what are you going to do with it?”

Before you could answer, Ernie jumped in, his voice full of enthusiasm. “That’s what I’ve been telling her! She’s got the goods, Avis. She just needs the right person to see it.”

Avis’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Well, Ernie, perhaps that person is sitting right here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You mean…?”

“I mean,” Avis said, setting her glass down, “I’m planning a charity gala next month. I always need fresh talent for Ace Studios. I have been thinking about it, expanding from motion pictures to Broadway plays and musical numbers. It’s not a guarantee, but if you’re willing to audition, I could give you a shot.”

The room seemed to tilt as her words sank in. An audition? For Avis Amberg? It felt too good to be true.

You managed a shaky nod. “I—I’d love to. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Avis said, her tone playful but firm. “The real work starts now, baby.”

------------------------------------------------------------ A/N: Will do a part two or more if you're interested in reading more. Hehe.

[deqdlyowl]

I actually have some old doodles TPtR au related... This one portrays an event from the second chapter.

I have a few more things, but they're kinda spoilers and I'm not really into spoiling... Though one of them is just a spoiler of one interesting detail I want to add (the event my sketch shows most likely won't appear in the fic), while the other one is a WHOLE AHH SPOILER of the shit happening in, maybe like 10+ chapter, I'm still not sure how big I want to make the fic, ahaha.

Also rambling and venting out my feelings under the cut because I forgot to take my meds yesterday. You don't have to read but I would be happy if you do.

.

Every time I start something I like, it begins to feel like a small obligation after some time, no matter how I feel about the thing I create. I love my fic and I really want to finish it, because it's also a huge emotional boost for me when I understand that I passed my word count goal in the chapter and I finally can write down my 24/7 daydreaming about CotL (even if not all of them, I often think about selfship, sorry, ahaha),AND I have a nice feedback. BUT. My ability is to abandon things. I have many unfinished drawings, unfinished crafts, like, a crocheted Spycrab or a full-sized HHH tf2 weapon, even though I really want to finish it all, but since I took a really long break, I just abandoned it all. That's usually the reason why I don't make comics. (The only comic I've ever made is that one silly meme about bees). And a month ago I started writing TPtR.

I'm scared of this happening to my fic, that's why I force myself to write if I'm not doing so for more than two days. Somehow it boosts my motivation, but at the same time, the thought of having to force myself to do something, even if I love it, makes me anxious. Why am I not doing anything if I love it? Perhaps it's just my depression with AuDHD kicking in, and sometimes I forget to take my ADs (I don't have ADHD meds yet) that makes me suddenly apathetic about everything. And then anxiety. And then I get sad when I can't come up with words.

Today I was describing the thing I have no experience in. I made tonnes of research, watched many videos of how people do it, tried to find words, but it looks... Meh. And I'm sad. And when I'm sad about something I do, I abandon it. BUT I WON'T. I will force myself to not, because I still want to write! I try to reassure myself that it looks shitty because it's still a draft and written in my native language. However, if looking at my current word count, the chapter won't be short, and it makes me happy. I'm sad and happy. I'm confused about my feelings about what I do!! I can just abandon doing ANYTHING and be lazy for years as it happened in middle school! But I have to force myself. To do anything at all. I already bed rot when I'm not studying, and if I'm studying at home, I still do it in bed. I'm losing weight (I'm severely underweight), my dogs feel bad (they're almost 12), it's my final year in school so I also study hard for my finals, my dreams say weird things (I believe in dream-telling or whatever, and I kinda can decipher them) and it all devours me from inside. But I can't give myself a rest. Or. I'll. Abandon. The thing. I love!

I'm repeating, but my head repeats everything most of the time as well, it's either loud and messy (adhd) or quiet and agonizing (autism), my ADs make my body parts twitch, I don't think that I need my therapist anymore, because it feels like there's no different between me before and me after talking to her.

I love my friends though. Their cheerful reaction to my fic or sketch updates is something that also boosts my motivation of doing something. I love art because of the feeling of creating something, but after finishing, I get the desire to see someone's reaction to what I did.

That's all, I think. I mean, not all, but I don't want to repeat again and again, my memory is getting worse as well, I feel like I kin Shamura ahahahha. I want to take an MRI. What if I have a tumor.

[katerinaaqu]

Hello :) firstly I wanted to say that I love your analyses and I love all the information and knowledge you’re able to give us, thank you soo much for that.

Secondly since you know so much especially about the odyssey and Odysseus and I’ve recently seen a post where you explained the calypso situation I wanted to ask if you’ve made such an in-depth analysis on the Circe situation? I’m convinced the whole thing wasn’t consensual but there are always ppl saying stuff like “what Hermes said isn’t important” “Circe was at his mercy when she asked him to do the deed with him so he tricked her into doing it” “Odysseus was invulnerable to her powers so that means he wasn’t in danger meaning he willingly slept with her” and since I haven’t read the odyssey in a while I wanted to ask you .

Tysm for your time and I hope you have a wonderful day

Hello and you are very sweet! I really feel happy you do enjoy them and I am also grateful to receive comments and thoughts from you under my work 🙏 it always means so much when people get interested in the ancient texts much more when they honor me with their trust on tye matter.

I believe you are referring to my latest answer then where I re-analyzed the Calypso matter.

OF COURSE I can! I would be happy and delighted to especially since their relationship is so complicated and fascinating to begin with. The way in which it evolves in a very interesting degree and the way both characters share common traits is also fascinating. Circe is called also wily or with tricks which also seems to correspond to the essence of Odysseus himself. A power couple no doubt. But indeed so misunderstood by the media and their interpretations.

So here goes sorry if this is long:

I find it so interesting how far selective interpretation goes 🤔 😆 I find it interesting that indeed there are people out there that read the passage where Hermes SPECIFICALLY mentions how Odysseus has no choice and say that "oh it doesn't matter really!" Hahaha so to be more precise the passage goes as such;

Then you shall not refuse the goddess's bed if you want her to release your comrades, and she shall offer entertainment to you

(Translation by me)

The passage is clear. Hermes tells Odysseus he has no choice but to accept the bed of Circe's if he wants to save his men and see them again in human form. I find it quite interesting that people ignore that or they claim it is unimportant to the plot. This is literally the reason why Odysseus is there. What is more I find the notion of the moly immunity funny because Circe was not a force to be reckoned with only with her magic. In fact Homer also writes afterwards;

However make her swear a sacred and great oath that she will have nothing else bad in store for you so that she won't hurt or unman you when she has you stripped naked.

(Translation by me)

Hermes clearly states that Circe does not need to turn him into an animal to be dangerous. In fact as someone else said before me, it almost seems like Circe might as well kill or castrate him while she has him naked and vulnerable. Hermes clearly states that Odysseus is not safe even if he is immune to her power at that specific moment. It also shows that Circe could harm him at every moment and the only reasons she didn't were this promise that he extracted from her and perhaps her own feelings for him (curiosity or other). Throughout the passage Odysseus was speaking on the fear he was feeling even from moment number one;

And she opened the fine doors calling me in and I followed her with a heavy and grieving heart

(Translation by me)

Odysseus was literally frightened. All the time. As he said he had a grieving heart (ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ) and he continued to be distrustful of her and afraid even if he had extracted that oath from her.

However my heart could not be pleased for I was distracted as my mind was always thinking on dark thoughts

(Translation by me)

I adore how Homer uses the word ἀλλοφρονέων (=to think differently, to be distracted) but the word αλλόφρων also used in modern Greek to speak on someone who is mad or crazy and is also used as a phrase to indicate someone who is not just worried but someone crazy in fear. Odysseus has extracted the promise, he has accepted the attentive care of Circe and her handmaidens in the bath and he is now sat before a real feast and he is crazy in fear and doubt. His continuous sense of anxiety is obvious in the passage. So to say that Odysseus was just fine and that the whole adventure with Circe was a breeze and that he was safe against her just because he had eaten the Moly at that time seems to me funny since every part of the passage shows how he was afraid. What was more, there is no guarantee that the Moly would protect him forever from Circe's magic not to mention that as we said before, even without her magic Circe had plenty of aces up her sleeve starting from her animal entourage till a potent knife at the time that she had Odysseus under her mercy (thus the need for a promise on her part).

Also even if we say that Moly would keep him immune forever, what about his men? His men had not consumed Moly and it was obvious that the only reason that Odysseus was there was to rescue his men. What guarantee did he have that Circe wouldn't enchant his men again if he misbehaved? Quite frankly as I said above, Circe's likeness for his boldness or potentially his mind plus the oath he extracted from her seems to be the only thing that prevents Circe from using his men as hostages once more. Quite frankly the whole adventure with Circe was a very big hostage business. Odysseus was thinking on his men's safety (not to mention the rest of them waiting by the ship) apart from his own and as you see he was already very much afraid as it was.

I also find it interesting that the reason why Circe seems to be getting Odysseus immediately to her bed is that she knew he would come. Just like Polyphemus knew by a prophet that Odysseus would blind him (although she didn't know the nature of the person that would blind him) Circe says that she knew from Hermes that a certain Odysseus would arrive at her isle on his way back from Troy. So in one way someone to say that Circe was out of options seems at least funny as a notion. It seems that she knew who was coming she just didn't seem to know the conditions that would bring him there.

Now was Odysseus attracted to her?

In my opinion there is no doubt about it as he describes how beautiful Circe was. Would he consider to sleep with her if it weren't of Hermes's advice? In my opinion no. Odysseus would absolutely be finding Circe attractive given her beauty and her divine nature, which is no surprise there but finding attraction to one person and act on it are two different things. In my humble opinion I do not think that Odysseus would act according to that attraction. Would he be curious on the experience with an immortal goddess? Absolutely. He is a naturally curious person and he wants to gain knowledge from other experiences in his life. Would he act up that one? Again I think not.

The reason why I think so is that the essences of loyalty in marriage are not as cut and clean as we usually think of in modern times. True if we judge from Hera myths, it was not preferable for a man to have extramarital affairs but it was generally tolerated. Agamemnon speaks on the affairs he had and many others had affairs. Odysseus would have no reason to hide his actual attraction towards Circe (and he doesn't given how he does speak on her very warmly eventually). Throughout his narration he mentions many things negative about himself including but not restricted to; the conquest and enslavement of Ismarus, his mistake to insult God Poseidon, self-destructive thoughts, feeling of fear towards Circe or Calypso, his moments of sadness and isolation etc. All of these things would be considered embarrassing or even diminishing for him. Why would he hide affairs at a world that was more tolerant towards the affairs and instead say all these others that would make a king or a warrior embarrassed?

Now there is an interesting question of course as to why did Odysseus remain there for a year?

It is indeed food for thought to think about it because once his men were back to human form in theory he could leave right? That in my opinion is not cut and clean like that. For once he had to wait until his men were back to good health and spirits to travel and he might as well take advantage of Circe's hospitality to refill their batteries. However there is also the moment where in the Odyssey his men arrive personally and scold him that he forgot about their country and their homeland for the arms of Circe. So one can think indeed; did Odysseus indeed forget himself?

In my opinion it is possible. His men are not the only ones who wanted to refill their batteries. So was Odysseus. In fact he has MUCH MORE in his plate than the average human already. He has already been at war, he has the war crimes on his mind anyways and he has also witnessed most of his men dying in horrifying ways (Cicones, Polyphemus, Laestrigonians etc) and he has just witnessed the results of his actions as well with the Curse of Polyphemus and the way that the sack of Aeolus fiasco happened. Odysseus already was suffering a lot. Regardless of the fact that he was always afraid of her, the hospitality she offered was very much needed. He could rest and enjoy some safety of dry land for a change after everything he had been through and Circe kept her promise and was a very good hostess to them. Odysseus too needed that break. It is possible that he forgot himself at the care of Circe and quite frankly Circe seems to be also wishing to keep Odysseus by her side so she does seem to make it as easy as possible for him to stay.

So Odysseus enjoying some nice rest after so long, even in the arms of a goddess that scares him makes it cheating? In my opinion no. What is more it seems that the fear of Odysseus was always apparent. It seems that he was avoiding requesting from Circe to let them go the whole time. It almost felt like he was putting the whole thing off out of fear for her anger and refusal. He almost seemed to be gathering off the guts to tell her. When his men straight out demanded it he didn't seem to have a choice but to comply. So it shows how scared he was when he literally BEGGED Circe to let them go by falling on her knees.

And then I climbed onto Circe's beautiful bed and hugging her knees I begged her to set us free with a cry.

(Translation by me)

So basically Odysseus felt helpless before her and he had to do the employing ritual to her (you can see my other post about this ritual) so that he would be sure that Circe wouldn't refuse him or be angry at him. That same fear continued later for when he came back from the Underworld, he preferred to stay by the ships. He was literally brought back in by Circe herself who gave him some advice.

But while most part of the text in the Odyssey indeed implies the lack of free will or lack of options etc someone would think why would Odysseus be considered a cheater in the hands of Circe?

I think the answer lies to the general idea that many people have that we should consider Odysseus as an unreliable narrator and that all the details he lists are lies to cover his cheating.

Although as a logic seems to be very generalized, and it COULD hold some water in regards to some details, I still am not convinced as mention above that Odysseus is lying here. For starters he was already very emotional when speaking to the Phaeakes and an emotional Odysseus is the most honest Odysseus (we saw his emotions betraying him with Polyphemus, with his revelation with the Phaeakes or later with Penelope). Odysseus was already in a very strong emotional state so I do not think his narration is inherently doubtful. What is more, he does seem to have so many details in his narration about himself that are not positive about himself. He would have no reason to hide the specific one. And Odysseus mentions how Circe never had his heart before (see also my other answer here). I cannot find much of a reason for him to lie about that when he has literally admitted everything else that could paint him in an unpleasant light (especially his hubris with Polyphemus).

So to sum up yes I think he was being forced. His men were held hostage and he had to save them. Circe was never helpless regardless of the situation and she had many different ways to kill him if she wanted to. Would he be curious anyways? Absolutely. Would he act according to that curiosity? In that case I think not. He does say so himself and his imprisonment in Calypso's island in his narrative was supported by other characters and the poet so why would he lie for Circe either. One can definitely think about his emotions and how strong they would be about Circe but I think regardless of that, he wouldn't have necessarily act towards that curiosity given how his psychological state was originally

But I guess this is everyone's guess.

I hope this helps. It definitely it is up to you what you want to interpret and I will be happy to offer more passages inside the future reblogs and such! ^_^

[gingerteawrites]

Limelight - Gojo Satoru

Content: You knew Gojo belonged in the limelight. Away from you most of the time, but you didn’t mind. That was until he lands perhaps the biggest role of his career, and suddenly the shouts of the world feel like they were enough to rip you apart.

actor!Gojo x female reader, Jealousy, insecurity, angsssssssssst, fluffy.

Word count: 3.5K words

A/N: Hello my darling readers, I hope you’re spending great holidays. I am so very excited to bring you this new story. I really wanted to get it out today so unfortunately I did not have time to thoroughly proofread it. Still, I hope you enjoy.

Divider by: @v6que

Satoru Gojo was popular. Not just in school or among his peers. No, there was plenty of that when he was younger. The man was one of the rising stars in the acting scene. Stealing the public’s heart in roles as a fearless hitman, cocky space rangers, and even earnest soldiers.

And somehow Satoru Gojo was also your boyfriend. Yours. You had not even known who he was when you first met. Busy typing away at your laptop in a cafe, you were surprised at the boldness with which he approached you. And even more at how quickly he clung to you. But that was something you quickly grew accustomed to.

You grew accustomed to him talking your ears off whenever given the opportunity. Accustomed to his need to be close to you any opportunity he had. To the feeling of domesticity that set comfortably between the two of you.

Gojo wanted to scream about your relationship from the top of the world. You were his pride and joy after all. His one and only true love. Fans had started noticing how much happier he seemed on sets and in interviews after you started dating.

[There’s now way this man is single.]

[Ugh whoever they are, I’m so jealous!!!]

[Y’all think that someone has to be in a relationship to be happy? Smh.]

[It has to be another celeb right? Famous people only date each other.]

But this was all speculations. Speculations because the limelight scared you. You remember how the light in his crystal eyes had dimmed a bit when you told him you did not want to go public. An unintentional pout settled on his lips, and he grabbed both of your cheeks.

“But sweetheart, why?” Weren’t you as proud of him as he was of you? He wanted to take you to red carpets. To show you to the world. “My agent knows already, we don’t even need to make the announcement a big deal…”

“I know, Satoru,” your eyes were downcast. It hurt you to say no to him, especially on something like this. “But I don’t think I’m ready for all of that.”

His grip on his face loosened, and your eyes returned to his. He nodded lightly, plastering his regular smile back on his face, but you recognized the slight sadness behind his eyes. He did not want to pressure you into anything, but it broke his heart regardless.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you drew closer on the couch of your small apartment. Where he had grown to spend his days, his own lavish penthouse left untouched most of the time. Your hand took one of his from where it rested loosely on your cheek. “I’m just… You know how ruthless the media can be. I- I’m not built for that. At least not yet,”

“You don’t have to apologize, sweets,” he squeezed your hand in his, then bringing it to his lips for a light kiss. “You set the pace, okay? I don’t ever want to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”

And so your secret relationship with Satoru Gojo continued. You enjoyed having him in your little corner of the world, away from the limelight. You came to love the way he clung to you. The way he found an escape in you. Every movie premiere you would show up with a sign to cheer him up, heart fluttering at the sly wink he shone your way while the other fangirls swooned at the action they thought directed at them.

Loving Gojo from the sidelines felt comfortable. He was yours to hold in the comfort of your own place. In the privacy of your hearts, the sentiments bloomed. Untouched, unobserved. And you told yourself you didn’t mind the boundless thirst about him online. The way every woman and even men pursued him relentlessly. Because he was yours. Yours only.

------------------------------------★★--------------------------------------

Gojo had been auditioning for the lead role in a new adaptation of Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”. Ever passionate about his craft, he talked to you at length about wanting the role. To expand beyond the typical “playboy” role he often played.

“I feel like I’m being type-casted,” he pouted against your chest, and you slipped your fingers through his undercut.

“You’re the most talented person I know. There’s no doubt you’ll get the role,”

He burst into your small apartment with his spare key, scaring you into a fall from your couch. After making sure you were alright accompanied by a flurry of apologies, he pulled you tightly against his chest.

“I got it, sweets! I got the role!” He rambled excitedly against your hair, his joy permeating into your own skin. Celebration that evening consisted of a home-cooked dinner that was made through kisses and impromptu dance sessions in the kitchen.

To your boyfriend, this was better than any party his management could throw. Or any lavish gifts he could receive from the industry. To have you celebrate his wins, big and small meant the world. You meant the world.

------------------------------------★★--------------------------------------

Yuki Tsukumo was an unconventional choice for female lead. Even with your limited knowledge of pop culture, you knew that the woman was usually cast in the roles of fearless femme-fatales. She was the personification of sexy, so much that even you had giggled over one of the photos Satoru showed you. But she wanted to expand her repertoire, Satoru explained, and she was very well connected.

Filming had commenced. And while in the past, Gojo would make time to visit and go on small incognito dates with you, the time together seemed to all but vanish. You texted him after you knew his work day was over.

[Hey baby, I hope today wasn’t too tiring. Do you want to come over for food? Or I can come to your place. Help you practice your lines and all] You chewed on your bottom lip, hoping to not come across as too needy. But it had been a full week without seeing Satoru, and your heart started to ache.

Long minutes passed before the screen lit up, three little dots indicating Satoru’s typing.

[I am so sorry sweetheart, I can’t tonight :((]

[I’m at dinner with Yuki, the director insisted on us needing to build chemistry. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m done, alright?] The words made your heart twitch with something unfamiliar, but you shook it away. This was normal, right? They were in a romance movie, so they needed to get to know each other. You typed your reply fast, putting the phone away.

[No worries, see you later :))]

[Later then. Miss u bebe]

Yuki cleared her throat across from Satoru, and he finally looked up from his phone.

“It’s not polite to be on your phone when someone is sitting across from you,” she picked up a glass of red wine, swirling it delicately before taking a sip.

“Haha, sorry” Gojo replied sheepishly, turning to his lock screen with a picture of both of you smiling over ice cream.

Yuki did not miss a beat, and leaned closer. “Who is that?”

He frowned, dropping the phone in the pocket of his bomber jacket. “No one.”

You did not receive any other text from your boyfriend that night.

------------------------------------★★--------------------------------------

Months trudged by, dragging on laboriously. And you held on. Held on so tightly to Satoru, whose time felt like less and less yours. You never expected to be the center of his world, despite his whispered sweet words. Despite the adoration held in his eyes when he looked at you and told you that you were. You did not want to make him feel guilty for the little time you now spent together. For the way you were slowly being pushed out of his life by his obligations. So you kept quiet. Bottled all your insecurities and sadness and shoved them in the chest of your heart.

As soon as announcements of the movie were released, complete with posters of Satoru looking at Yuki like she was the pearl of his eye and her arms laying languidly over his neck, the internet was lit on fire.

[Omg him in a fully romantic role?? Guys we’re not surviving this one]

[Just from the pictures and trailers their chemistry is OFF THE CHARTS]

[Yuki get in liiiiiiiiiiiine]

The craze exploded even more when paparazzi started posting pictures of them together at dinners, with other cast members but often time alone. The headlines, bold and red always found their way to you.

[THE NEW IT COUPLE!?]

Gojo scoffed at the headline, laying across your lap during one of the rare evenings he could spare.

“All the gossip about this is getting so fucking annoying,” he changed the channel on the tv with an eye roll.

“I know right,” your reply came out weak even to your own ears, and he looked up, noticing you bite the inside of your cheek. He sat up, tilting his head.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” You looked at him, forcing a smile on your lips. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” you chuckled. “I’m just a bit tired. Work and everything,”

A frown settled over his features, and he reached for your hand. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy lately.” he squeezed, hoping to convey his regret but you shook your head.

“It’s alright, Satoru, really,” the words left a bitter taste in your mouth. Because in the depths of your soul you knew it wasn’t. It did not feel alright. But it was his job. Who were you to pull him away from his dreams?

“When all of this is done let’s go on a trip, yeah?” His rosy lips were pulled into a smile and he drew closer, kissing your cheeks and nose. “Let’s go relax on a beach somewhere.”

You smiled and nodded. When all of this was over.

------------------------------------★★--------------------------------------

Tonight was the long anticipated premiere. After what felt like an eternity of lone days, between Satoru’s trips and countless interviews. And what you now recognized was pernicious jealousy and self-doubt, you were finally at the finish line. Things were finally going to calm down.

The red carpet was decked out, and it was with great difficulty that you found your place in the fan zone, behind a firm railing. There were so many people, even more than usual. A part of your heart felt nothing but joy at that realization. Satoru was getting the recognition he deserved. That was wonderful.

But this joy was slowly drowned by the words that left the awaiting fangirls and boys surrounding you.

“Omg their chemistry is out of this world!!”

“Did you see how he looked at her during last week’s interview?”

“I’m SO jealous!”

“They look so good together too. I couldn’t imagine a better match!”

The grip on your cardboard sign that read CONGRATULATIONS MY ROMEO faltered slightly. The words cut deeper than expected. After months of reading them online, on headlines and in papers, you thought you had learned to block them out, but you were lying to yourself. The same way you lied to Satoru those times he asked if you were okay. Okay with the growing rift. Okay with him not being yours in the eyes of the world. Except, it was your fault. You were the one who wanted things to be like this.

A violent cheer erupted around you, pulling you out of your thoughts and your eyes onto the red carpet. There they were, emerging from the same car. He held his hand out for her, and she grabbed it, standing to reveal her full splendor. Blonde hair immaculately tumbling down her shoulders, red dress hugging her perfect body. The camera shutters moved almost too fast for you to register. The way he held he waist and how they smiled at each other. You wanted to tell yourself he was a good actor, that was all. He’s acting. He’s acting.

But damn, was he good at it. Acting like they belonged. Your heart shattered when she placed a kiss on his cheek, and his response was an even wider smile. The cheers grew even more frantic. You felt the railing rattle. Herald of your world collapsing.

They look so good together

Who else could he even be with?

He can do so much better than you

You waited for him to look your way like he always did. For a smile. For a little glance. But… nothing. He walked with her at his side past you and the flurry of screaming fans. All that was left to look at was the movie poster. The way he looked at her and how her hands draped over his body.

Who were you to pull him away from this world?

Who were you to stand between him and her?

------------------------------------★★--------------------------------------

[Hi bebe, are you okay?]

[You haven’t picked up any of my calls]

[It’s alright if you’re busy but please at least text back]

[I’m worried]

[Y/N?]

A few days had passed since the movie premiere and Satoru checked his phone for the nth time. Usually you were there to support him at those events, but everything had gone too fast that night. Had you even been there? Or did you get buried in the crowd somewhere. He only remembers you texting later that evening that you were feeling unwell and was going away to your parents’ for the weekend.

[Wait for me, I’ll drive you] he typed quickly, hearing his name getting yelled to leave for some after party after the screening ended.

[It’s alright, I know you’re busy] That was the last text from you.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he read the messages again. No, something was wrong. Terribly wrong and he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he figured out what it was. You weren’t the type for silent treatment.

He pulled a hoodie over his head and grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter, heading for the door.

The drive to your place was mired with spiraling thoughts. What did he do wrong? He knew that his recent schedules did not allow for you two to spend as much time as you usually did. But you had said it was okay. He asked, and you said it was fine.

He pulled into the parking lot of your building a bit more recklessly than usual, and headed upstairs. As soon as he inserted his spare key into the lock, he whispered an apology under his breath. You had given him permission to come even when you weren’t there. But it did not help him feeling like this was an invasion of privacy

*Clack clack*

The door opened with a small creak. He had promised to oil them when he first noticed. That was months ago.

Satoru slipped into your small living room, immediately noting the cold. You were not here. He took off his shoes and trudged quietly through the apartment. He eventually pushed into your small bedroom, the warm scent from the diffuser almost deceiving him into thinking he would find you laying down for a nap.

He did not even know why he was still here, you clearly had gone to your parents’ home like you had said. Or somewhere else. He sighed, you wouldn’t like about that. He was spiraling again.

He was about to leave when the noticed a small notebook at the edge of your bed. He had seen it before, with its brown leather covering and flower embroidered onto the cover.

“Her journal,” he mumbled. Suddenly his hands itched for the the book. Explanations about this situation were bound to be in there, right? But it felt so wrong. And the feeling only intensified when his fingers grazed the cover. Taunting him when he flipped open the pages to the latest entry, dating the night of the premiere. But slowly replaced by a piercing ache as he read through your writing through the months.

------------------------------------★★--------------------------------------

You rose from your bed with a pounding head ache. Yeah, this was what you got for crying yourself to sleep and barely eating anything. Your old room had been converted into some sort of storage, and you almost tripped over a box at your feet in an attempt to stand.

Your parents were worried sick, but you dodged all of their questions. What were you even going to say?

I’m dying of jealousy over my super famous actor boyfriend and his co-star?

The words sounded silly to your own ears. You stared at your phone wearily, laid facing down on your dresser and groaned.

Eventually you would have to talk to Satoru. But not now. Not when your heart felt so fragile. As if your entire being would collapse if forced to face the fact that Satoru could not be yours.

After listening to make sure your parents had left the house, you trudged downstairs in search of something to eat. Your stomach grumbled uncomfortably as you whipped the fridge door open. You groaned at what you saw. Being an ingredients household could not be worse at the moment.

A knock at the front door resounded when you had finally settled on making a quick omelet. You sighed and left your eggs for the door. The earlier this person was gone, the sooner you could start. It was probably some sort of delivery anyways.

Without checking the peephole, you swung the door open and was faced with Satoru, towering over you. A seething Satoru. Your first instinct was to close the door, but he blocked it with a strong arm, fully walking into the living room and shutting it behind him.

“Y/N,” his voice held none of the anger that his features carried. Instead he sounded hurt.

“Satoru, I-,” you panicked. You were not ready for this. Not now. “Why are you here?”

He walked closer and you took a step back. “Why am I here?” he chuckled, but there was no trace of amusement whatsoever. “I should ask why my girlfriend is running away from me.”

You bit your lip, looking up at him. You noticed his disheveled hair, his red eyes. Had he been sleeping well? How long had he driven to even get here? You had only mentioned your parents’ address in passing.

“I’m not running,” you spoke quietly.

“I don’t know if you’re trying to lie to yourself or me with that,” he scoffed, finally grabbing a hold of your hand. He dug into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out the leather-bound notebook, dropping it into your open hand.

Your eyes widened, and you looked up at him, suddenly angered.

“You read it!?” your fingers closed over the book, yanking it closer to your body.

“I did,” it was time for his voice to raise. “Because you wouldn’t tell me anything. Why didn’t you tell me anything, Y/N?” his shoulders were slumped, and you felt a lump form in your throat. This was not the moment to cry. Not now. You steeled your resolve.

“Satoru, maybe…” his eyes found yours and your guts twisted nervously. “Maybe we should end this,” you concluded.

He inhaled shakily, fists balled tightly, “Really, Y/N?”

You sniffled now, tears filling your lash line. “Clearly you and Yuki make such a good couple-”

“Good couple my ass! Y/N I love you. YOU. Not her, she’s just work,” his hand raked through his hair. “She’s an obligation. But you have my heart. Not her, sweet, you.”

Satoru fell to his knees in front of you, reaching for your hands again. “I’m sorry that I was not there,” his voice was thick with emotion. “I’m sorry that I caused you to feel like you weren’t enough. Like you weren’t deserving of my time. I’m sorry for not considering your feelings more carefully in all of this publicity thing.” He pulled your free hand to his lips, whispering against it. “But please talk to me, Y/N. I promise to do better, just please.”

The words sent a flurry of emotions through you. You knew you should have said something. But that one insecure part of yourself told you that you didn’t deserve to cause trouble. You loved him. How else would it have hurt so much if you didn’t? And you had told yourself that leaving would be good for him too. You would be out of the way.

But now Satoru was here at your feet. Begging for you. Despite your insecurities and fears and ugliness that he must have read through your journal, he was still here. Asking for you to remain his. Offering himself to you anew. Your finally broke, falling to your knees, now face to face with the man.

“I’m sorry, Satoru,” you choked out, tears spilling from your eyes. “I was- I was scared, and I thought it would be easier if I was out of the way. You deserve so much.”

He shook his head fervently, hand finding your cheek “I want you. That is all, Y/N,” his voice was still shaky. “Losing you is the last thing I want. You’re more important to me than this job.”

You shook your head in return, “Being an actor is your life’s work, Satoru. I can’t stand in the way,”

“You’re not standing in the way, Y/N. If it wasn’t for your support I probably would have stopped.” He was frustrated. “On those nights when it all felt too much, you were there. You are the one who keeps me going in this, don’t you see?” His eyes held yours with such sincerity that your heart threatened collapse.

You let him pull you into his warm embrace, and finally wrapped your arms around his middle, crying freely into his shoulder.

“I won’t let anything or anyone come between us, Y/N. But I need you with me on this. Please” he whispered against your cheek.

You needed to fight for this together.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated(❁´◡`❁)

[prodixal]

Sinking deeper into his chair, the air of usual cockiness that surrounds him all but disappears. There was a strange sort of relief to be had, in his sisters company, when their conversations turned serious and raw. And he wished they'd allowed themselves more such moments, perhaps if they had, things would have turned out different. Better. Easier.

"I should think Vaelora has more than enough soft things to protect, dear sister. Perhaps what they needs is someone stern enough to rely on as they take care of everything and everyone around them." his index lifts gently from the cup to point her way, as he held it over an arm of his seat. "And you very much are that person." Varyn was certain if Vaelora could find it in them to trust her, then love would come with ease. With necessity. "You are in no need of my advice, nor my opinion, but I shall offer the latter freely nonetheless. So that you may do with it as you please." he did not need her snapping again.

"Mother used to say a head needed its neck. To rest upon, to turn it the right way." he did not know why such a thought occurred to him, only that it did. "And the head above your proverbial neck shall hold extra weight in its crown. She should need...a sturdy neck, a neck she can trust, rely on." his voice is calm, quiet, tired. "Just be their equal. Show them your fire --- a dragon will love you for it. Else I fear..." he tilts his head, leaning forward, placing the cup atop the low table beside him. "You might never get what you're after. Vaelora might be many things, but stupid is not one of them, and should you wish to hide --- they'll know." that much, he was certain. Cersha was good, but she was not good enough to deceive someone who could see through people like they were made of lace. "But who am I? To offer such thoughts to you anyway, huh dear sister?"

Deep down, beneath the gaping black hole where the heart should be - and several layers of selfishness, arrogance and pride - Varyn really did feel the two to be a perfect match. Vaelora had the passion, and the urge to do 'better' than her mother. To do right by people and the crown. Vaelora loved their family, their friends, their name. Vaelora was of good heart, with a strong mind, and a kind of warmth that Cersha shied away from. -- Cersha had the strong intellect, the long lasting desire to for power and rule. She too cared for her family, her name, the crown. To put it simply, Vaelora and Cersha complimented one another in almost every relevant way. So Varyn did not worry, that love would blossom from their union in time, should they both be willing to put aside their differences and open up to that possibility.

But this would remain a private thought.

At her dissection of happiness, fulfilment -- victory, he is thoroughly lost in thought. Varyn had never looked at it that way. For she was right. Happiness was fleeting. An emotion that changed with each candle mark. But victory, glory, a sense of fulfilment? Those were constant. Something to hold on to when sadness, or anger or disappointment strike, and something to relish and be grateful for, in moments of joy.

He would adopt that mindset, perhaps, or study it more up close in days to come. He had much to think about. For his life right now, had consisted of chasing happiness at any cost. Chasing comfort. Chasing emotions so fleeting that even while he had them, part of him always awaited their demise. It was no way to live. But he was also undisciplined, and thirsty of instant gratification.

Such thirst was precisely the reason for his current unfortunate predicament. And he had no one but himself to blame.

As the word 'curious' leaves Cersha's lips, he will frown. "I'm not --" a rookie mistake. "I'm not defending her. It is simply facts. Up until a moment ago you seemed to be fond of those." he should know better than to try reason his way out of this one. It was far too late for that.

What comes next, out of the mouth of his sister, leaves even his own jaw ajar. He knew her to be calculating, to be cold -- but he had never seen the sheer depth of her ruthlessness. He had almost, strangely so, admired it?

"The child lives." the words are quick, defensive, certain. And while he desired nothing more than to believe his sister was willing to do all of this for him, he had also known better. And he made note, not to ever cross her in his life again. The stakes were higher now, and the space for mistakes was growing smaller with every step Cersha took towards her ultimate goal.

Varyn shudders, at the decision he knows he's about to make, and his stomach turns as the heaviness of reality and impending responsibility weighs upon his tired shoulders. "I will marry her. And it shall be as you say."

CERSHA'S EYES ROLL SPECTACULARLY AT HER BROTHER'S EXCUSE FOR A JOKE . it is with a sigh that she moves to pinch at the bridge of her nose , that she replies , " whatever you need tell yourself , varyn ." despite spending near the entirety of her life with him , cersha could never understand the appeal of her brother . as much affection as she may grudgingly have for him it was mind boggling , truly . varyn was varyn , she saw him nakedly as he was and had no other choice but to accept him as that , after all , their blood demanded it . however , all others had a choice in this . and yet they chose varyn regardless . chose not to see the facade that was right in front of them . admittedly , it was times like these that leave cersha quite sure that all those around her were fools . she was sure that if the shoe was on the other foot she could see through varyn with ease . however , she supposes he would say the same for her . perhaps in some ways it was simply a byproduct of their upbringing . " i am not acting like a nervous fool ." cersha tone is near exasperated as she drops her hand , as she squints at him in vague annoyance before arching her brows to add , " this is actually a quite unfamiliar process to you called coherent thought . i hope that you might experience it at some point in the future , but at this point i do quite sincerely doubt it ." vaelora was a puzzle that cersha could solve . she was quite sure of it . after all , she had yet to come across a puzzle she couldn't solve . she'd be damned if the one she failed to was the dragon she was set to wed . " if necessary i intend to play a long game in order to obtain the power i have sought all my life , varyn , yes . perhaps the performance may not be needed forever , and perhaps it may not be absolute . but some part of vaelora seems to wish for something soft to protect . do i appear to be that to you ?" cersha snaps in annoyance at her brother's jabs , her eyes rolling with a scoff as he continues . it is with efficiency that she reaches for the nearest object to throw at him . luckily for him it happens to be the pillow on the chair she is sat at . " yes , well , i do not care what you want , varyn . thankfully , might i add ." she makes a face at him as she turns her attention back to her goblet , lifting it to add , " in fact , i'd rather delight in emulating the exact opposite of what you may want in a sister just to vex you further ." it occurs to her suddenly that she truly had no idea how the targaryens seemed to get along so well . did they not irritate each other ? was it all an act ? at the current moment she is quite sure she would trade her brother for an apple tart . " ah , yes , i am sure you are quite familiar with the later ." cersha brings her goblet to her lips with a roll of her eyes . it is only after a delicate sip that she brings her goblet back down to say , " i am quite familiar with the thin line between love and hate , varyn . however , it would be quite a gamble for me to emulate everything vaelora hates and expect her to love me . i do not particularly enjoy gambling with my fate where it is not necessary . leaving my wife-to-be's love for me up to the gods and chance ." a twist of her lips . " how can i trust in such things ? i trust in me , varyn ." a huff . " and if there is a surer path to victory i will take it ." an arch of her brows as her eyes meet his squarely . "so unless there is need to pivot —  to gamble — the plan will stay the same ."

despite herself , cersha can't say she's entirely unaffected by varyn's confidence . while she would do what she wished either way , and while her own confidence wouldn't waver for it , the belief that her family had in her only added to her pride . she would rather swallow a sword than admit it of course . but there was something to be said about having someone in her corner . cersha was notably not alone . lions move in packs after all . so she lets him tap his goblet to hers with a nod , her eyes sure until she is blinking at the strange question . her brows furrow . " happiness is fleeting , varyn ." cersha says simply as she moves to take a sip from her goblet . " i could be happy in the next candle mark and then deeply angry in the next two ." a shrug . " i'm sure there will be joy after my goal is achieved but what i know there will be is satisfaction . fulfilment ." cersha's spine straightens a bit then , a steely glint of triumph in her eyes as she says , " victory . that is more important than mere happiness to me ." she shrugs as she waves a hand dismissively . " and i'm sure happiness will come with it ." winning was something that cersha had become used to . it was a driving force . a goal , in all things . she would be victorious . she would be better . she would outsmart the competition , and then , once she stood on top of the defeated she would laugh at them from above . better . smarter . superior . after all , it is only the best who could seize what they wanted . and cersha was that . it was because she was the best that she was well suited to be queen . she was sure of it . and it was not merely a prize , her skills made her aligned with the position . once she was queen she would cement herself in history as the best at that too . after all, who was her competition . visenya ? it was laughable . she would trump viserys too whilst she was at it . aegon the first as well . and whoever else laid before her . in all honestly , it was fortuitous that cersha was in this position . if she wasn't perhaps she would be fighting for the spot of head of house . she may as well be , with how much of the family mess she took on . as varyn speaks her fingers come up to rub her temples . " enough . you disgust me and any more talk of your preferences in your conquests will have me prepared to lose the contents of my stomach ." cersha says as she brings her hand back down to her goblet , her finger trailing up and down the stem . her brows arch tiredly as her brother continues , her tone blunt as she says , " you see fit to defend her ?" cersha studies him briefly , before she's turning her attention to her wine with a simple, " how curious ." it is something to take note of , cersha supposes . her judgement was absolute in all things . very few were free from it . but it was interesting to note the individuals that people tried to shield from it . it spoke to innerworkings ; vulnerabilities . cersha takes note . if not for her own knowledge , then perhaps for varyn's sake . " yes , well , again i did expect you to father a thousand bastards ." cersha's eyes roll . " i suppose i should only be glad that it has taken this long . although , who's to say ? i certainly would not put it passed you to have more in the shadows , dear brother . perhaps some you are still even wholly unaware of ." another sigh as raises her goblet to take another healthy gulp . it is only once she's put the goblet back down and licked her lips of the bitterness that she says , " if i were truly anticipating my own stress i would have had you castrated long ago and been done with it ." it feels almost like an act of affection that she doesn't . after all , it was only the most logical of solutions , even if it were perhaps a bit messy . however , even now when varyn presumably has a heir to succeed him and will have little need for other children to follow , it is not an option she even truly entertains . she supposes love really does blind you .

cersha studies her brother as he speaks , her eyes scrutinizing as they scan every inch of his face from the way his eyes avoid hers to the careful sip of wine he takes . cersha studies thoroughly and files away . cersha takes only a moment to bask in the position of power she holds in this moment . at the act of her brother needing her help and asking for it . for a younger sister this was quite something to brag over . if only it wasn't also so deeply frustrating . " if she loves the child , then we can use that to our advantage ." cersha says simply then , tone cool with rationale as she eyes her brother with a hawklike gaze . her brow arches . " we can take quite a literal approach to that and threaten said child . a mother's instincts are usually quite predictable ." cersha shrugs as she moves to take a sip from her goblet . " 'speak on this and you both shall suffer' is a simple enough solution , so that is an option ." she gestures to her brother with her goblet then , meeting his eyes to say , " however , if we truly wanted to be rid of the problem , the child could die ." another shrug . " however , if it is tied back to us that may make enemies of the daynes , and that would be rather unfortunate . but it does close the book on this , if that is what you prefer ." cersha hums thoughtfully . she swirls the wine in her goblet with lazy twists of her wrist . she has little intention to actually kill a child . after all , such a thing was truly a last resort . death was a messy option . it left trails of blood in its wake and unless one was very , very careful that trail tended to lead towards equally bloody hands . cersha was very careful . but even still . " however , if this woman loves you or if you can make her love you , as you seem to so freely boast about ." cersha's eyes roll as she waves a hand dismissively towards her brother . " then make her love you anew . come to her in the night in the picture of romance and profess sweet nothings to her ." cersha gestures with her goblet . " tell her you have made a grave mistake and wish to be a family , that this all made you realize the error of your ways ; whatever it takes , you understand . and once you have been sufficiently convincing , get on a knee and propose . in private of course ." cersha meets varyn's eyes pointedly . " and once that is done we will have you both wed . secretly of course . i can have the papers forged to reflect a different date , that is of little consequence . you can both announce it after the announcement of my own betrothal . you will not steal this moment from me , varyn ." cersha makes sure to meet her brothers eyes pointedly again as she gestures to him with her goblet . " ... and once that is done you can spin the tale that you were both so deeply in love that you married during your time in dorne ." the words are accompanied with nonsensical flourishes of her hand , cersha's tone becoming mocking as she mimics the fools that surround her as she says , " and would you look ! such love has resulted in such a beautiful child ! oh hurrah , oh hurray . wine ! celebration !" another roll of cersha's eyes before she shrugs and says , " and with that it is done and you are a father , varyn . congratulations ." it is with a sigh that cersha sits back in her seat , brow arching as she looks at her brother then . there is a curious part of her that wants to test his own judgement . her brows arch . " so , what will it be then ? threat , death , or marriage ?"

[binah-beloved]

not a request or suggestion but i keep making this stupid ass giggle whenerver i read your posts. like its so refreshing from how the community treats binah shes so wonderful

i made a little smile when i read this. i am glad we share the same vision

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

i still cannot believe that people consider having lovers outside of a political marriage as cheating

a lot can be discussed about how raging misogyny and the patriarchy in westeros has led to unequal standards for women to uphold and suffer from

as highborn women are not allowed the same sexual freedom that highborn men get to experience, and even if these women do have relationships outside of their marriages, they are usually scorned and shunned by society for daring to practice sexual autonomy

it’s unfair, i am very aware of this fact

(that’s why i’ll never understand team green stans)

but george has never ever condemned his characters for finding and experiencing love outside of doing their duty.

never.

we’re not unfeeling machines that lack emotions. we’re humans who are, more often than not, led by our hearts. and grrm does a phenomenal job when creating characters, as they truly feel human.

so yeah, it’s a bit disappointing that people dumb down what is clearly a very complex situation to “cheating” (btw george himself calls rhaegar and elias relationship complex and he’s never implied that they loved each other in a romantic sense).

to reiterate, i am well aware that highborn women and men are held to different standards, however, if you have a problem with characters working through, around, and sometimes failing to overcome the social structures that cause their suffering, then you must have a major issue with george’s exploration of the human heart in conflict with itself.

george’s characters aren’t robots and that’s what makes them interesting. they do things for very human reasons. they’re biased. they’re traumatized. they’re conflicted. but they’re still reaching for a better tomorrow and they’re still trying to find happiness.

so i’ll never consider rhaegar and lyannas relationship as cheating, or something unsightly that should be scorned. for they simply dared to find and grasp love in a society that would rather shackle them to unhappy marriages, which is very commendable.

oh… and do you know what george does criticize?

political marriages lol

he makes it clear that selling women off as broodmares and forcing men into marriages they don’t want is a recipe for disaster.

of course the eventual fallouts of these relationships is super interesting to read about, but you should never ever support the systems in place and the societies that benefit from pushing people/characters into these incredibly unhealthy relationships

so while i find it interesting to read about characters navigating these relationships, i’ll always be the first person to condemn these societies for forcing this fate onto them. i’ll also always be the first person to root for characters who do their best to find happiness outside of their political/arranged marriage

sorry that i don’t condemn a character for finding love outside of a loveless marriage

instead of getting angry at rhaegar and lyanna and being very nonsensical in the main tags about it, how about you turn that anger onto the patriarchy, which is rooted in every single institution and family in westeros, the patriarchy that refuses to allow women to have the same amount of sexual autonomy as men?

(this is why i despise team green :))

[vacantgodling]

✨preferences should not be standards for writing advice✨

[expectantdaddies]

I still can't wrap my head around how I ended up here, pregnant and wearing a Santa outfit in a cozy cottage at the North Pole on Christmas Eve. It all started a month ago when I was out drinking with some friends to celebrate the upcoming holidays. We had decided to hit the bars, but little did we know that we would run into a bunch of people dressed up as Santa Claus. Fuck us, we completely forgot that it was SantaCon, and normally we stay in to avoid the mess that follows these kinds of events, but this tall silver daddy caught my eye immediately. I couldn't resist his charm and before I knew it, we had broken off from both of our groups and were heading back to my apartment.

He introduced himself as Nick, but he didn't leave me his number or any of his social media details. When I woke up the next morning, he was nowhere to be found. I thought that was it, just a one-night stand with no chance of ever seeing him again. As the days went by, I started experiencing some unusual symptoms - nausea in the mornings, fatigue, and an odd craving for chocolate. After a few days of denial, I finally took a pregnancy test, and to my surprise, it came out positive. I was utterly screwed; I had no way of contacting Nick, and I had already made peace with the fact that I would be raising this child on my own…and then Nick showed up outside my apartment window.

Keep in mind, I lived on the 23rd floor, so it was kinda impressive that a big guy like him was able to climb up through the fire escape or something. But there he was, telling me that he came as soon as he heard about my pregnancy. Before I could even ask him how he knew, he told me to come with him to the building's rooftop. My mind raced with possibilities - maybe he wanted to propose, or perhaps this was all part of some elaborate plot orchestrated by a serial killer.

I did not expect what came next: when we reached the roof, there stood a sleigh with eight reindeer attached to it. Nick explained that he was the real Santa Claus and that having unprotected sex with me was a lapse in judgment, something very naughty indeed. Now, however, he wanted to do the right thing by making an honest man out of me. I thought I must be hallucinating or dreaming, but Nick took my hand and pulled me in for a kiss, and then suddenly it all felt so real.

With mixed emotions and an overwhelming sense of disbelief, I got onto the sleigh, and we flew off into the night sky towards an unknown destination. Yes, I'm pregnant. Again. I gave birth to our first kid last year, and we thought we were gonna wait till we tried again... but I guess I've also been a naughty boy and now I'm carry another of Santa's sprogs in my belly. And now…here I am, wearing Santa Claus' clothes in his cozy cottage at the North Pole, waiting for Christmas Eve to finish so my husband can come home and celebrate Christmas with me and our son.

Happy holidays!

If you like my work, Buy Me a Coffee.

12 Dads of Christmas Bonus!

If you like my work, Buy Me a Coffee.

[doctorsiren]

AAA SORRIE!!!I DIDNT THINK YOU’D REPLY IMMEDIATELY SO THIS IS RUSHED🥲🥲

SO I MADE,,i made a miego as the conjuring au, still working on it but the idea’s there!!! Here’s a lil doodle of them tuu :3

HSHSHSH I WAS KINDA HOPING YOU’D KNOW SO IT WOULD BE MORE INTRIGUING BUT YEAH,, i was also really really inspired by you in a way because your aus are always so fun and jus,AA I CANT EXPLAIN IT IM SORRIE!!! but it’s because of you that I decided to let myself be more creative even if it’s a long stretch of an idea

so thank yu for that, nick 🫶🌷

YEAHHH I DON’T UNDERSTAND THIS BUT I LOVE IT ANYWAYS YIPPEEE!!! Oh i love them,,,,

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[flowery-laser-blasts]

I noticed that my message on the fridge for my boyfriend read vaguely ominous when it comes to describing my yoghurt container... So I erased my signature, doodled this, took a photo, erased the last parts and redid my own signature and drew myself instead of Drakken.

[3-aem]

All i can say is I'm really really grateful for everyone here

[antirepurp]

happy to announce that it is now illegal to argue that sonic 06's canonity fucks with or irreparably ruins the timeline without acknowledging the fundamentally worse damage caused by sonic generations' concept and writing, hope that helps!