#anyway we talked about tv shows and that was my time to shine and i didn’t hide in my room 🤩

[fightingdragonswithwho]

happy to report i’ve successfully lead a conversation with my roommate for like 2 hours ?? a regular accomplishment for a well adjusted human being, but a GIGANTIC one for me

[drchucktingle]

THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY

just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.

(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)

i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.

the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.

i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.

PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE

a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)

ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.

months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’

turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes

at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)

as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.

fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.

when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM

SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:

CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:

well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.

PART TWO: RESCINDED

a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask

right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.

of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered

there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA

first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.

second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.

in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.

TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.

i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.

but here we are.

PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?

this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:

when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.

it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?

i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not

my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.

at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense

PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES

it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say

BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?

is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.

if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.

and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?

(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)

i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.

you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.

if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.

so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.

THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.

as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING

AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?

let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.

when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.

if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?

or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.

PART FIVE: GENDERED

this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.

if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned

PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY

there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?

i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'

putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.

i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY

another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions

PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL

i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.

i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)

which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.

if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK

and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME

KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck

UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:

true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo

to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love

please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it

MOST RECENT UPDATE:

here is more

[catiuskaa]

THIS ISN’T WHAT FRIENDS DO.

PAIRING! best friend!felix x reader

SUMMARY: you're friends- duh! best friends are close to each other, even if this could be... too close. still, no one can really blame you! that chocolate was far too good anyways.

REQUESTED! here by @lemon-va, who had a spicy kind of good idea, so, sorry it took so long, sweetness, but i hope u like it! <3

CW: convenient minsung strikes again. fluffy smut! mentions and use of aphrodisiac chocolate, use of petnames: princess, darling, pretty, oral sex (f & m rec.) + mentions of protected piv sex (as everyone should!), fluffy aftercare, and I think that's all!

WC: 3.1k

A/N! TYSM FOR THIS, COULD FINALLY FIND AN EXCUSE TO USE THEE DLC FELIX PIC, LMAO

[🔸☆🌆☆🔸]

He smells like home.

It’s the first time you find yourself reeling in the feeling of his hands, one around your waist, and how perfectly you fit cuddled against Felix’s chest, your eyes fixated on him as he focuses on the TV series you both were watching together.

You probably shouldn’t feel as giddy about it as you do. It’s definetely a more-than-friends action. And that’s not what Felix and you have.

He’s just your best friend.

He’s the type of friend that back hugs you, either if it’s because he wants a hug or because he ‘thought you looked like you needed one.’ The type of friend that has ultimately stopped using your name to talk to you, finding pet names under the rocks just to see you giggle. The type of friend that will always have a door or window open for you, having built a kind of trust that allows him to get closer and closer without any tuts, actions like tenderly wiping the excess of that brownie he gave you off the corner of your lip, tilting your chin with a soft touch of his fingers, then licking the chocolate off his thumb.

You can’t focus on the ways his eyes shine brighter, holding too many stars, having some of them pose as freckles on his skin. Can’t even start to listen to your friends or his flatmates when they start rambling about how his smile widens everytime you enter in a room, or how you’re the only one that has the power of making him pause his games, and even the online ones, which are impossible to pause, meaning he turns off league for you.

But, that just… no. You can’t allow yourself to hope so foolishly, right? It wouldn’t be fair. Not for you or him. Does that even make sense?

Before you spiral down to an unhealty amount of overthinking your feelings for him, he’s moving underneath you, his hands craddleing your face.

“You’re not paying attention, silly.” He teases with a cute grin, pausing the show. A thought flashes through your head, and you have to hold back to not wipe his smile off by planting your lips on his.

“Sorry,” you blush and smile sheepishly, but he brushes it off with another blinding smile of his, his eyes like crescent moons. “Feeling kind of sleepy,” you mumble softly.

He takes his phone from his back pocket, moving his hips with you still laying on him in a swift action that has you blushing even more. You mentally shake your head.

These thoughts needed to stop before your face reaches the the tomato-red level… meaning: now.

“It’s barely 6pm.” He’s just pointing it out, and then licking his lips, thinking about how to word what he wants to say. “You shouldn’t drive… It’s too dark. We can steal Seungmin’s pillow, cause he’s off at Hyunjin’s for tonight, and you can sleep in my room.”

Felix’s smile could make you do anything.

“Sure. That sounds nice.” You know you’re using the sleepyness to your advantage when you hide your head on the crook of his neck, moving and streching your body like a kitten, and you humm against his soft skin. “No need to steal Seungmin’s pillow. You’re my pillow now.”

And you both take it as a joke, but if he could just say that he wanted to, it would’ve never been a joke.

“C’mon, pretty.” He cutely ushers you off him, and starts heading to the kitchen, your footsteps following his, grabbing the almost-forgotten popcorn bowls, now empty.

He opens the fridge, grabbing water for the two of you as you leave the bowls in the sink. You sit on top of the counter with no thoughts behind, sipping the water calmly.

You never could’ve guessed that the silly little question that was going to come off of your lips would unexpectedly change the whole night.

A 180° spin, started by your sleepy voice pointing to a bowl with some kind of plastic paper over it.

“What’s that?” You asked softly.

Felix just shrugged, taking the bowl and quickly discarding the plastic.

“Looks like chocolate?” And he frowned, struggling to remember something. It felt important, and it kept itching the back of his mind. “I think that Minho and Han made it a bunch of hours ago.”

You smiled. “Then it must be good. Minho is one hell of a chef,” you laughed, and took a small piece from the several stack of round, coin-like bits.

Instinctively, Felix picked one too, taking a bite at the same time as you, and you both were surprised by its flavour.

“Shit, that’s better than I imagined,” you muttered, frowning at the chocolate piece in your hand, as if it could give you all the answers regarding its taste. “Didn’t expect it to be black chocolate.”

Felix snickered, picking another one. “You do look like a white chocolate enthusiast.”

You gasped, faking offense, a hand to your chest and the other in the bowl, picking another piece. “Excuse me?!” You couldn’t help but smile cheekily. “White chocolate isn’t even chocolate.”

Felix frowned in response, a goofy smile on his face. “Yes it is.” He pointed out, munching at his third or fourth piece. “That why it’s called white chocolate, baby.”

You shook your head vigorously, too invested in the silly discusion to process how that nickname made you feel. “But it doesn’t have actual chocolate on it! It’s just milk and sugar!” You argued as you munched on your sixth piece.

You were about to take another one, but his soft hand stopped you.

“Wait. How many did you take?” He shot a toothy grin at you.

You snorted.

“Shit.” You both said, sneakily smiling, almost like a pair of small children that got away with a lie.

Felix giggled with you, quickly putting back the plastic cover on the bowl and leaving it on its place. As if nothing had happen.

Little did you two know.

“I call dibs on showering first!” Felix cackled.

[🔸☆🌆☆🔸]

Different types of questions bursted in your mind. They should have been easy to answer.

Questions like why and how.

It wasn’t just something that could happen randomly. Not as intense as right now. Because your whole body was burning up like it had been lit up in fire, desperate for any kind of relief.

And so you just stood there, inside Felix’s shower, unable to get out and dress in some random pj’s he lend you because you were soaking wet.

Why were you this horny? No fucking idea.

How on Earth were you this horny? Still no fucking idea!

It could’ve been five or maybe ten minutes that you spent resting your back against the cold tiled wall in his shower, splashing cold water onto your red cheeks, hoping to cool off.

And you consider several options in that moment, only one seemingly effective: to run away, change your name and fly to Spain.

Because Felix had just knocked on the door.

“H-hey.” His tone of voice feels different. “Are you good in there?”

Felix, Felix, Felix.

You feel a pool of arousal forming in your lower belly.

You shake your head almost fiercely. What the fuck is happening? This is so weird. Could it be that you just fell asleep on Felix’s chest and this was all a really strange dream?

He knocks on the bathroom door again.

“D-darling?”

Fuck, shit, fuck.

“Yes?” You answer, a high-pitched tone that makes you cringe.

“I-I uh… I s-screwed up.”

His tone of voice feels weak and soft, almost traced with guilt.

You frown, taking the towel and surrounding your body with it, tucking it and making it stay on, like a robe.

Leaning closer to the door, you sigh softly. “What’s wrong, Lix?”

You could hear him breathing heavily behind the door. A merely two to five steps away.

“Can I… open the door?”

Your eyes widen at his words. And you know its not the most inteligent decision you could make right now, but you bite your lip and open the door.

“S-shit.” Felix mutters, his eyes glued to your body, his face and ears crimson red.

You force your eyes to look at his face, and not at the seemingly painful bulge on his pants.

“S-so…” he takes his hands to his forehead, and passes a hand through his hair. “The chocolate we had… that uh… Minho and Jisung made…”

You blink at him, trying to process his words when your dizzy and fuzzy brain is sending you other ideas.

“And I don’t know how much we actually had…” he’s stressed out, rubbing his eyes, grasping for any sort of remaining concentration that his body could have. "Normally one or two pieces could have a small effect, but still..."

“Wait. It can’t be…” you mumble, slowly arriving to a conclusion.

And then your eyes lock with his.

His pupils darken.

You wouldn’t know who got close first, but your feet step towards him like metal to a magnet.

It's only when his lips grace yours that you move apart and face down. You're flustered, you want to cry and this whole thing is a mess. But then felix gently grabs your chin. He lays his forehead on yours, before planting a loving kiss on it.

"We're gonna do something, ok?” He mutters gently, stroking your face, and your body threatens to melt under his touch. He goes inside his bathroom and picks two random scrunchies near the sink, tenderly taking your hand and settling one on your wrist. Your hands interlink, matching hairtie bands working like a highlight on this situation.

Your glazed eyes lock with his again.

"As long as this is on your wrist, there's no consequences." He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, making your body shiver. "And after this is over, we'll… go back." There's a weird shadow in his eyes when he finishes that sentence.

As if he didn't want to go back to just friends.

"Felix, I don't know if I..." You hesitate, because for god's sake, you love him. And spending the night with him would not help dimming those feelings. What if it hurt more? What if...?

"Please." He's begging, his lips barely hovering over yours, so kissable, so tempting.

And then you break.

Because for a moment you were looking at him, but now you're not... instead, you lean forward and you plant a soft kiss on his lips. And it's all you both need to unravel.

You link your arms around his head and pull him further towards you, locking your lips with him as he moans, now muffled by how you fiercely kiss him, and he pushes your body against the wall, your towel slipping downwards with ease.

Felix's eyes grow imposibly dark with lust, and he grunts at the sight of your curves. Even if you close your eyes due to the intensity of all this, you can still feel him everywhere, the fresh smell of shampoo lingering on his soft hair.

He kisses the air out of your lungs. "I knew you were beautiful." He bites you lower lip, his hands traveling down your body, allowing you to halfly grasp how down bad he seems. "I told you so."

And you can't fathom the fact that he can still tease you in situation like this, but your whole mind is dizzy, there is lava running through your body where Felix touches, and you can't help but moan at his words.

"F-felix." You whimper, only after he starts peppering kisses to your cheeks, your neck, and its when you feel he's slowly kneeling on the floor for you that your hands travel to the back of his head.

"F-fuck, darling." Felix pants heavily. "That sound." His kisses on your belly and thighs start to leave red marks behind. "It's going to kill me."

He’s crazy. And you’re crazy too, because even when his mouth is deep between your legs, his tongue running between your folds, and only loud, almost desperate moans echo around the room.

Fingers tickle up the back of your thighs, his hands hungrily pulling you to him, as he eats you out like he’s been craving for you for ages.

You’re a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck, and you can only close your eyes tught and lean into the wall behind you for support, because if not, your legs would definetly give out.

Your hands sink into Felix’s hair for something to hold on to, and a satisfied groan rumbles in his throat, the butterflies on your stomach turning to beasts.

One of his hands moves from your legs, and you flutter your eyes open, finding his gorgeous face staring at you, your arousal all over his lips and chin. His beatiful brown eyes are locked into yours, watching you closely as he slides a finger inside.

It’s game over for you when he goes back with his mouth, your hands tugging harder at his hair as you whimper. “Felix…!”

You can’t even form the second sentece as you cum, everything tingling and throbbing when you moan loudly, pleasure and heat flooding your entire body.

Felix removes his finger and mouth, leaning back so he can look at you properly, wearing the most drunk and fucked-out expression you’ve ever seen as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, not once breaking eye contact.

Before either of you can even say anything, he stands back up again and kisses you. It’s not fierce or has any of the urgent feeling that it had last time, instead, it feels like a soft crash, messy, a kiss that allows you to taste yourself on him.

He turns the both of you and you find the bed sooner than expected, falling on top of him.

It’s before he can do anything that your hands travel under his sweatpants, and he trembles under your touch.

“Oh, darling...” Felix whimpers, melting to putty in your hands, both figurative and literally. “Y-yes, just like that.” He knows that you’ve ruined him for good, forgetting about the scrunchie on his wrist.

And you forget about it too, sinking him deep in your mouth.

It’s only when he starts tetiching and writhing that he stops you, and in that moment, your body conects back to your mind. You’ve never gone this far before, not with anyone.

“Felix.” You mutter, your voice hoarse. “I’ve… never… you know.”

His eyes grow wide.

“You’ve never had sex before?”

He’s not shaming you for it. He’s confused, because he had been jealous over your boyfriends who he thought got to have you, and he’s growing more aroused, because a small voice in his head is telling him that he can be your first.

“N-no…” he coos at you, kissing you softly.

But you know there’s no one you could trust with this more than him.

“Let me show you what you’ve been missing out on,” and your breathing turns even heavier. “Let me treat you like the princess you are.”

He takes out a condom from his drawer, swiftly rolling it down his length.

Felix kisses your cheeks, helping to ease the tension. Your hands link together, and even if you still have the scrunchie on your wrist, none of you realize that Felix’s scrunchie is no longer on his wrists, but had fallen down to the floor.

“It can hurt a little. But I’m here. It’ll be ok, darling.”

You nod, kissing him softly.

[🔸☆🌆☆🔸]

You can’t help but feel shy when he cleans you up.

It’s slightly awkward, because none of you know how whatever you were was going to work now.

You would never be able to forget this.

He sinks back into bed, his hand laying on your waist, and with a huff, his breathing settles, calming down.

You eyes are locked on his gorgeous face, and now that you’ve kissed him, you can’t help but peck him softly again.

The scrunchie in your wrist bothers you, and you throw it away.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, your hand traveling to his cheek, stroking it. “I love you.”

But his eyes flutter open, and he grins like a fool at you, launching his body back over yours.

He’s giggling like a madman, peppering kisses all over your face.

“Felix!” His hair tickles you, and you start to laugh too.

He stops, pinning your arms to the sides of your face, and kisses you lovingly.

“I love you too.”

It’s only after you both wake up, afterglow clear on both of your faces that when Minho and Jisung come back from the younger’s place, his eyes grow wide at both of you.

“You guys took what?!!”

~Kats, who now fears someone will find out that she googled how aphrodisiac chocolate works.

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Watching a movie with Han ‗ ❍

Pairing : Han Jisung x f reader

Summary : chapter five of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, fluff, suggestive but no actual smut, everyone yaps and is a nerd, homebody! Jisung is real, some swear words

Word count : 600 words

A/n : none

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Watching anything, not just a movie, but a tv show, an anime, a short, a music video, literally anything, is an experience.

Each one unique and requiring at least a whole five minutes of commentary.

He's the kind of guy who feels like his life changed completely after viewing a certain product. He will gen into it so much, from the possible lore or original material, the music, the character takes and analysis from twitter users. He's probably one of them

It's so funny actually because you can pretty much guess what mood he's in by the type of thing he recommends watching. A sad movie? He's in his feels and probably lowkey needs a good cry. A fun anime? He wants to have fun and not pay too much attention, probably just relax.

A horror movie? He either wants to try and scare you and then act like the knight in shining armor (he's actually shitting himself too, trust)

"Shit! They just did a jumpscare, I didn't expect one two seconds later!" a couple of popcorns jumping out of the bowl.

"Oh no did that ugly nun scare my princess?" he wraps your shoulders with his arm, voice comically condescending, "Does she want a kiss to make it better?"

"Don't even try it, Sung. I saw you jump too, loser"

A thriller or dramatic movie? Probably feels the need to overthink something other than his life, and most likely have a nice, interesting conversation.

He's also quite strict with seeing new episodes from a series he hasn't seen before. He doesn't like to watch stuff in your presence unless you are also watching them. He much prefers your company anyway, feels also a bit disrespectful and in general he probably wants to focus on the plot.

He's usually pretty silent and concentrated but if it's a rewatch or he's purposefully showing you something he just yaps. So much. He NEEDS you to feel things as he felt them, you know?

"Baby, there! Did you see that shot? It's so fucking genius actually, will be so important for the plot later on"

"Don't spoil!" you exclaim, annoyed.

"Yah, I didn't spoil, I just commented on how good the shot was!" he defended, as you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Shush."

But it's actually stronger than him, I fear.

"The composer using that bit of music during that scene..I know what they're doing"

"How can you hate someone so much but also enjoy their presence at the same time? Such good acting"

But don't get me wrong! He loves to hear you yap just as much. He's actually so in awe, looking at you with those big round eyes and an amused smile.

"Am I talking too much? Ah, sorry baby" you chuckle embarrassed as you catch yourself basically covering the audio of the movie.

He shakes his head with a smile, still with those adoring eyes. Like you could do no wrong, ever.

"No, my baby. You could be literally reading a cooking book, I don't care. You look too pretty."

But when you've both seen the movie/series in question and it's NOT a sad one...it's over. You both know damn well it's just part of the game foreplay at that point.

"Honey, how about we just chill and rewatch this? It was fun last time"

And just like last time, this time was indeed fun, since the movie was left on his own to the end credits as you were blowing each other's backs out.

It's a given at that point, I don't make the rules

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[clotpolesonly]

Declan's hair in tvTRC; a dissection

ok i'm sure you guys have been waiting with bated breath for me to weigh in on this particular subject (lol) but i needed a hot minute to collect my thoughts on the matter. turns out i've got quite a few, go figure.

first things first: i am contractually obligated to say it's a goddamn travesty of a departure from canon to make Declan fucking BLOND and why the FUCK did they do that??? i was screaming in dms the second he showed up on screen, my sister can attest to how far i threw my phone across the couch in my outrage. i mean, honestly who suggested that?? turn on ur location i just wanna talk

-deep breath-

okay got that out of my system

so we all knew immediately that it was stupid as shit and entirely unnecessary...............but i've got a confession to make

i don't hate it

at least, not anymore. i'm actually kinda fascinated by what they've done here and what it adds to Declan's character/what it says about him psychologically. especially because he doesn't stay blond -- his hair is only like that for a little under half of the first season, though it's unclear how long he's had it like that before (tv)canon starts.

what the show has done here is given Declan a relationship with his hair that's not entirely dissimilar to the one that Ronan has. it's never said explicitly i don't think, in either the books or the show, that Ronan shaved his hair off because 1) he looks too much like his dad with it long and 2) it's something that he can control, but it very much comes through anyway, and the same applies to Declan here.

both boys -- all three boys, actually, but Ronan and Declan especially, more than Matthew -- are made in Niall's image. they resemble him very strongly. they look in the mirror and, for better or for worse, they see their father, and that's something that becomes really fucked up and complicated when your father is murdered, and when you hate him, and when you're afraid of becoming him, and when you miss him.

Ronan dealt with it one way (shaving it all off, making himself unique) and Declan here dealt with it another way (distancing himself from his father, yes, but also doing it in a way that made him more similar to Matthew). (and to his mother, which is a point i'll come back to later; you know the scene i'm talking about.)

Declan is a control freak of epic proportions, we all know this, and seeing it manifest in changes to his hair is not remarkable i don't think, esp in conjunction with how meticulously he manages his wardrobe. everything in his life feels outside of his control, so he grasps at what he can to feel secure. that's textbook.

then he fights with Ronan. most of the scene plays out more or less as it does in the book, but i want to draw your attention this bit of dialogue --

Gansey: "Why are you even here?" Declan: "I don't need to explain myself to you, I can go wherever I like. Free country and all." Ronan: "Then you're free to go somewhere else." Gansey: "Ronan... Declan, just go." Declan: "He's failing almost all his classes. What, Ronan, did you think I didn't know? Your teachers call me every time you skip class, dumbass, you keep going like this and you're going to -- " [Ronan tries to punch him again, Gansey intervenes] Gansey: "That's enough, both of you! Look, Declan, I'm not saying you're wrong, but you are not Niall Lynch, and you never will be." Ronan: [scoffs] "Not looking like that. You and your bimbo girlfriend get a 2-for-1 special at the salon?" Gansey: "Ronan, knock it off." Declan: "Believe it or not, I'm trying to help you." Ronan: "Well, I don't. And I'll never forgive you."

the salon comment is a petty side swipe that made me snortlaugh ngl, but it's also a direct acknowledgement from Ronan that what Declan is doing with his hair is Declan, in his own way, trying to distance himself from Niall while simultaneously trying (and failing) to fill his shoes. he's shining a spotlight on Declan's biggest source of internal conflict in a way that's both casually cruel (Ronan's specialty tbh) and humiliatingly dismissive. what an effective jab at someone like Declan who is, underneath his deliberately unremarkable exterior, every bit as proud as Ronan is. he's trying to be Niall and he's failing so badly even Gansey's begging him to stop, and he's trying to be Not Niall and he's so obvious about it as to be pathetic and laughable.

it's notable that the blond doesn't stay much longer. we only see it once more -- delivering his ultimatum to Ronan through Adam as he gatekeeps Declan at monmouth, a confrontation i must note is between a natural blond (Adam) and a fake one (Declan), and no words are exchanged about it but we do get a rather pointed look at the hair from Adam right before he delivers his line about fighting and it being "Ronan's thing" that makes Declan back off -- before we get to the biggest departure from Declan's canon arc and what i really want to talk about:

✨ the dorm room dye job ✨

this is, honestly, my favorite non-book-canon scene in this adaptation so far. that probably does not surprise anyone, because i am me, but hear me out!!!

let's run through what we actually get in this scene:

- Matthew asking Declan what he, Matthew, is doing in the morning, and Declan rattling off Matthew's entire schedule for the week, all while nagging him through his bedtime routine - Declan texting Ronan repeatedly and getting left on read - Declan trying and failing to sleep (intercut with Ronan and Gansey sharing insomnia time), growing more restless and texting Ronan some more until Ronan blocks his number and the texts stop being delivered - Declan going to their suite's bathroom to dig out a cheap dusty box of hair dye from the back of the cabinet and rushing through the process of mixing and applying it while Matthew sleeps - Declan staring at himself in the mirror and then smearing dye across his reflection

obviously, exactly none of this is book canon, and i don't not understand why some fans are crying foul on screentime they consider "wasted". should priority have been given to book canon elements and scenes? yeah, probably, and there are things that didn't make it into the show that i would've been glad to sacrifice this scene for, HOWEVER i want to talk about why this scene, as presented, within this slightly alternate show canon, is worth its screen time imo.

the show is really making an effort toward expanding the characters and relationships outside the insular gangsey -- the fox way ladies and the Gansey family have both gotten subplots, and much more attention is being paid to the Lynch bros than we got canonically this early in TRC.

without being inside the POVs of Ronan's friends like we are in the books, it makes sense that we get to see Declan more objectively for the overburdened teenager that he is. we get to actually SEE him being relied upon to manage and parent Matthew, day and night, no breaks. sharing even a bedroom with him, there is no reprieve and no retreat from that responsibility.

and we see him trying to manage Ronan too, which is overbearing and aggressive, yes, but we also see his preoccupation and his mounting anxiety. the little tics like him tapping his thumb against his thigh and the breathing technique he employees (the same one that Ronan uses in ep 2). unlike when they were brawling in the parking lot, Declan defends Ronan to Matthew ("he probably just lost his phone again" despite all of his messages being read). (this is a characterization tidbit described in Greywaren actually, in case any viewers haven't read TD3, that Declan was always far more understanding of Ronan and his behavior to Matthew than he was in confrontations with Ronan himself).

i digress, anyway, Declan tries repeatedly to get through to Ronan until the messages stop being delivered and Declan (correctly) assumes that Ronan has blocked his number (again).

all that nervous energy boils over and Declan beelines for the bathroom. he obviously knows that the box of dye is in there, he goes right for it. it's ambiguous how long it's been there -- either it was there before they moved into this room, in which case it may have been what inspired Declan to bleach his hair in the first place, or he may have bought it himself months ago and decided not to use it (probably because it's cheap and he usually has higher standards than that lol, he'd rather get it done professionally).

but this is not a moment for standards. this is an impulse. it's rushed and clumsy and jittery. he tears the box getting it open. he fumbles the little conditioner thing. he tosses the instructions aside with barely a glance. his phone is right there on the kitchen counter, always in the frame but face down, conspicuous in just how much Ronan is not texting him back.

this is, as mentioned up top, a bid for control. Ronan is uncontrollable, a variable he cannot account for and a loved one he cannot protect, and so Declan does what a lot of teenagers in fucked up circumstances do -- fucks with his hair before he can think better of it.

the only thing that slows him down is dropping the bottle, which almost wakes Matthew up. Matthew, right over Declan's shoulder in the mirror. Matthew, always in the frame just like the silent phone, always on Declan's mind, never allowed to more than an arm's length away.

Matthew is in the background of this entire scene. every shot of Declan's breakdown, Matthew is there, if indistinctly.

and there's something else about the cinematography that really elevates this scene, and that's the fact that, once Declan enters the bathroom, the entire thing is shot through the mirror. we don't get another shot of Declan straight on to the camera in this episode, we only see his face in reflection. we are seeing Declan seeing himself, which is perhaps the truest way to view him, especially in this moment.

remember that this was catalyzed primarily by Ronan's judgment (and Adam's, and Gansey's). Ronan ridiculed Declan for his hair a few episodes ago, not just for its own sake because it looks ridiculous but specifically in conjunction with talk of their father and Declan's inability to fill his shoes. Ronan essentially called Declan a failure and a phony, and the hair now symbolizes both.

Declan is so so conscious of how he is perceived, constantly thinking of himself within the context of how others think of him rather than engaging in actual self-knowledge. he is his own panopticon and this scene showcases that EXCELLENTLY.

which makes this messy breakdown so interesting, because it is unobserved by anyone but himself and, in the end, he obscures even that. he blacks his hair with bare hands (buddy, that's gonna stain so noticeably afkdjh) and then stands there, staring into the mirror at his own reflection -- at his own failure to perform the identity he's chosen for himself -- until he can't bear to see it anymore, and then he smears the dye along the mirror to block it all out. all that messiness, that vulnerability, hidden even from his own eyes.

and of course i need to touch on the identity of it all. of course i do!! because hair color means something in the Lynch family!! the resemblance the older boys have for Niall is so integral to the family dynamic and how they all relate to and interact with each other. the boys have daddy issues out the wazoo, and you would too if you were Made In Your Father's Image.

for Ronan, looking like dad was a source of pride for a long time, and is now a source of pain. but for Declan, looking like dad is equal parts pain and shame. everything Declan is, so much of his facade, was deliberately constructed to be different from his father -- Niall was reckless, so Declan is careful. Niall was loud, so Declan is staid. Niall was volatile, so Declan is predictable. Niall was eye-catching, so Declan is invisible.

and now, Niall was a brunet, so Declan is blond. it's another step along the road of rebellion against the legacy he inherited. Niall claims god broke the mold, but Declan knows just how similar they are, both physically and in their natural inclinations (though we haven't gotten into the latter much yet in the show). his father is not a man he respected and he is deeply afraid of being too much like him.

Declan bleaching his hair was a reaction to that, and it was a reasonable one, but it was also fundamentally, in both Declan's eyes and Ronan's, a disavowal of his connection to and place in the family. in rejecting his resemblance to dad (and therefore Ronan), Declan functionally declared himself Not A Lynch.

which makes this, dying his hair dark again, a bit of a reclamation? in a way? or, no. that would feel triumphant, and this scene has the definite air of tragedy.

maybe i should say it's a concession instead. the waving of a white flag. it's an admission that trying to disavow his family is a losing game. he cannot cover up what he is. no amount of bleach can wash away his father's blood in his veins. he will never be Niall Lynch, but he will always be Niall Lynch's son, for better or for worse, and there's no point in trying to pretend otherwise.

this scene is Declan giving up on his last desperate bid for an identity separate from the legacy he inherited. there's irony there, and honestly i find it very in keeping with what we get from him in some of the flashback details in TD3. i wrote a meta a while ago about the moth's wooden box and the alexandria townhouse both as symbols of Declan's complicity in his own oppression as a child -- ie, cages that Declan chose to step into of his own volition, because feeling powerless is worse than feeling trapped.

in this context, dying his hair dark again feels very similar. he's feeling powerless and so he makes the choice to figuratively reclaim his position in the family, even if that position is and has always been awful and traumatizing and something he's spent his entire life trying to break free from, because the alternative is to acknowledge that there is nothing that he can do to free himself. he would rather be complicit than helpless.

there may or may not be something to unpack with Declan choosing blond, especially that shade rather than something that would've been more aesthetically fitting for him like a cooler platinum shade. namely that, in distancing himself from his resemblance to Niall, he actually strengthened his resemblance to Matthew and also to Aurora. he could've dyed his hair some middling shade of brown and honestly it would've been far more in line with his desire to be bland and pedestrian, but he chose a hair color that aligned with the other half of his family (the dreamt half of his family).

was it some subconscious desire to replace their mother for Matthew's sake? Matthew was Aurora's favorite, he was the closest to her and undoubtedly the one who took her loss the hardest in the immediate aftermath, and we know that Declan took up the kinds of duties that used to be Aurora's like cooking Matthew good meals and being his emotional support (as best he could).

the fact of Declan taking on Aurora's most defining feature in the aftermath of her falling asleep (to him, functionally, her death) and his staunch refusal recognize her humanity (such as it is) or to engage with her memory is really haunting, imo. honestly, Aurora and his relationship with her is such an underrated factor in Declan's psychology, she had such an enormous impact on him that's rarely discussed in the detail it deserves. here it's like his feelings about her are leaking out of him subconsciously even as he's trying his damnedest to repress them.

or, hell, idk, that might be reading too much into it. it may just have been that blond was as far from his natural color as he could get.

but honestly it doesn't feel coincidental. nothing in this arc does, which surprised the hell out of me as i was watching. "Declan is blond now actually" is the kind of cracky nonsense that should've had me flipping tables, but it turns out, when it's a concept that's actually executed with thought and attention to detail and a real understanding of the character, blond!Declan is something that can actually be so personal.

so

thank you for coming on this journey with me. if you read this far, your brainrot is probably nearly as strong as mine is for writing it. i might write another one later digging into some more of the details from the back half of season 1, but for now, i need to go outside and touch some grass or something. stay tuned i guess. <3

[putschki1969]

2024/09/27 Wakanaとみんなで行って来た！屋形船でまんぷくに！！〜一日目の巻〜

���This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Let's All Go Together! On A Houseboat Full-Course Tour!! 〜Day 1〜

The other day, my “Join Wakana! Houseboat Full-Course Tour” ended successfully after two eventful days ＼(^o^)／I had so much fun that time went by in a flash…just like a live show😂

I'd like to look back on these two fun days and share a lot of photos with you! First, I'd like to talk about the Day 1 event which took place in the evening😊Here's the meal I've been looking forward to for a long time! Huge tempura!! 🍤🍤🍤 So crispy!! A variety of amazing dishes!! 😭✨Take a look at this big ~Menu~. I'm so happy that we were able to do justice to the tour name by having so many different courses😊

I am saying my greetings to all participants of Day 1✨Cheers!! ♪(^^)o∀∀o(^^*)♪ Everyone seemed to enjoy their meal which made me very happy♪ We were all divided into groups at each table. Since there were a lot of solo attendees, I wondered what it would be like for them~?😳 Even though, some of them were meeting each other for the first time, everyone seemed to enjoy pouring drinks for each other and chatting. I was relieved to see you getting along with each other😊As expected, all my Botanical companions are full of kindness!! ＼(^o^)／Thank you!! ＼(^o^)／💕

We all got to enjoy the night view of Odaiba while feeling the night breeze on the boat♡ On that day, it was pretty windy and rainy in the morning so I was quite worried about our little boat trip…😱 I couldn't help but feel anxious💦 But just in time for the boarding, we were able to see the most beautiful sunset once the sky had cleared up a bit. The temperature was just right with a nice breeze. I think everyone enjoyed watching the sunset while waiting for the boat…😊(I was secretly watching everyone on board from afar and waving at you.) Anyway, I'm glad it was sunny😊💕

Here's a picure of Rainbow Bridge as seen from the houseboat🌉 And he Fuji TV building was shining brilliantly📺 There were many houseboats all around us ♪

We did a Q&A corner! It was fun😂But of course, the best thing about this houseboat was karaoke!! After boarding, we distributed a song list to everyone, and each table got to choose one song they wanted to hear. They all wrote their request on a little board we provided🌟(Here's one of the request boards. A fan drew this cute picture!) Here I am during the karaoke session🎤The song choices were well-balanced and varied, which was fun. Unfortunately, we all struggled a lot with the karaoke machine on Day 1🤣 I didn't know that I had to "select the original key," so I was confused when I kept getting a key that was too low for my voice. As for the microphone, I wanted to sing close to the speaker, but there was always feedback…It was difficult to find a goof position that didn't cause any trouble💦After a lot of trial and error, I ended up singing with my back facing the audience😂😂 Sorry to everyone behind me…😭😭Actually, the mystery was solved the following day. It seems that the houseboat karaoke machine is designed for people to sit while singing. Makes sense if you think about it. But at that time I wasn't able to figure it out at all🤣 That's why every time I stood up to sing, I got this horrible feedback *sobs*. But eventually, I found a good position that worked for me so I didn't leave that spot for the remainder of the karaoke session🎤At the end of Day 1, I found a wonderful message by a fan…😭✨A rabbit and sharks🦈🦈Thank you for the message😊

I chose this yukata for Day 1 because the yellow flowers were cute🌼I used a gyoza ornament for the obidome🥟This is actually a gyoza magnet that I received from a fan. I had it attached to my obidome🥟My manager actually helped me put on the yukata‼ ️＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／Some of the participants came to the event in kimonos and yukatas, it's amazing that you can put them on by yourself…😳 I'm jealous😳

All right, that was Day 1 of my “Join Wakana! Houseboat Full-Course Tour” ･:*+.(( °ω° ))/.:+ Next time I'll write about the event on Day 2 which took place during the daytime.

~To be continued~

Last but not least! Today, the key visual for "Wakana Classics 2024", was released, so I thought I'd talk a little bit about it here ♡ Sorry for the sudden departure from my houseboat stories😂For the photo shoot, I got to wear a beautiful dress again✨ It was raining really hard that day but thanks to my photographer who always brings the sun with him, it ended up being sunny! 😍 I'm glad we were able to take many pictures outdoors surrounded with greenery🌿 Actually, the composition of this key visual is pretty much the same as the one for my May live. I'm even looking in the same direction😊 This year, I was able to safely celebrate my 5th Anniversary as a solo artist. I'm looking towards the future, at all the things that I believe await me beyond today, "sono saki e". Believing that there is an even bigger world waiting for us "beyond," gives me the courage to continue to forge ahead with all of you. Please continue following me‼️＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

Well, that's all for today! Until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

2024/09/28 Wakanaとみんなで行って来た！屋形船でまんぷくに！！〜二日目の巻〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Let's All Go Together! On A Houseboat Full-Course Tour!! 〜Day 2

Well, today I'd like to talk about Day 2 of “Join Wakana! Houseboat Full-Course Tour”! This time, the event took place around noon‼︎＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／It rained from the morning on this day as well (why!😂) and I wondered what would happen but thankfully…the sun came out just in time！！ ！ ！ ＼(^o^)／The view from the houseboat was the same Odaiba area, but during the day, it was completely different from the previous night's view. Such a refreshing blue sky! The Rainbow Bridge♪ And Fuji TV📺Look at those beautiful clouds…😍The sun was bright, but there was a lovely breeze, very pleasant〜😊

On the second day, I wore a grape🍇 patterned yukata🤗 Here I am filming something for my FC video section! 🎥 (please be patient and wait a little while longer)

My Botanical companions of Day 2 were watching over me with smiles on their faces😂Thank you everyone〜😆Here's a photo of everyone on the boat on Day📸Cheers‼️♪(^^)o∀∀o(^^*)♪ Everyone was just as energetic as during Day 1‼︎😊I'm actually jealous that you were all drinking alcohol in the daytime😍 (I just had oolong tea!) Once again I was looking forward to the freshly fried tempura!! 🍤💕I was so happy to see them bringing out all the delicious fried food…😭✨

It goes without saying that we were able to enjoy the view outside better than at night. I was also surprised at how fast we were going😳 I had a blast eating amazing food and looking at the gorgeous view 😊(Here's a lovely photo taken by my manager📸 Kind of looks like Spirited Away)

On Day 2, I finally learned how to use the karoake machine properly so I sang while sitting in the request karaoke corner😂I tried a few different sitting positions *laughs* Look at my half-sitting posture🤣🤣So innovative! I got to sing in a great place again😁🎶I wonder if it's okay to have karaoke sessions like this more often? Where I can just casually do whatever I want🎤*laughs* Sorry to everyone who only got to look at my back😂 I got another cute picture drawn on one of Day 2's request boards😊Amagi-Goe by Sayuri Ishikawa! It was fun to sing enka in front of everyone for the first time🎤

At the end of both days, there was a big raffle corner in which I gave away parts of my precious Pothos to two people each day! It's growing fast so I have to cut it regularly. It was the perfect timing to cut off a few parts for you😊 I actually bought my Pothos baby at "Shibuya Engei". My trip was featured in Botanical Tsushin Vol.12! Page 17!! (Look how tiny it was!😳By the way, the pot in the photo has since been repurposed for another baby of mine, a plant called Agave Titanota🌱) If you put a cut part of my Pothos into water, this is what will happen…! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／Once the roots have grown, you can just change the water about once a month (it's okay if you forget to do it occasionally) By the way, I did an experiment to see if roots would grow from just the leaves, and they did! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／That's amazing 😳To the four people who won parts of my Pothos, please take care of them and let them grow 😊💕And please don't worry, it's okay if they die! Plants are sensitive to their environment, so they die all the time! But once they find a place they like, they'll grow really big! I hope you have fun growing plants‼ ︎😍Everyone else, if you're interested, please also try growing a Pothos🌿

Finally, here are some of my stuffed animals. I had them on display all over the boat! So cute~🤤💕🐙🦈I put a lot of them around the karaoke machine too🦈In fact, I also placed a Kaito Kid plushie all the way in the back (￣▽￣) Thank you everyone for the fun time over the course of those two days‼ ︎‼ ︎‼ ︎･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･'(ﾟ▽ﾟ)'･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

It was my first time planning an event like this but we all had fun eating, talking about all sorts of things, taking pictures, singing songs… It was great😂I also got a lot of presents from you…😭✨My Botanical companions are always so kind and warm, you make my heart feel at ease😊Thank you so much!!! I'll keep thinking of more fun fan club activities for you! ! ! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／Hopefully we can get back together soon!!

〜The end〜

Today, the advanced ticket lotteries on various ticket platforms for "Wakana Classics 2024" have started! 🎻🎹🎶Let's spend time together surrounded by music at Wakana Classics at the end of yet another year ('▽')

[Date] December 18th; Open at 17:45 / Start 18:30 [Venue] Hamarikyu Asahi Hall (Music Hall) [Performers] Vocals: Wakana Music Director/Piano: Sin (Hashimoto Shin) Violin: Yanagihara Yuya Cello: Nishikata Masateru

And since this concert marks the end of my 5th year as a solo artist, I decided to create a special music box to commemorate the anniversary‼ ︎･:*+.(( °ω° ))/.:+ The song is "Sono Saki e"😊 I told the team I'd like to have a design inspired by stained glass. They really did a great job with the pattern on the top and the illustration in the box😭✨I hope you will enjoy this commemoration of my 5th Anniversary. Matching the title of the song "Sono Saki e"🌟, I'd like to convey all my thoughts for the future with this.

[Pre-order] Wakana 5th Anniversary "Sono Saki e" music box

And finally! I'd like to remind you of the submission deadline for this month's podcast talk theme!! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／This time the main topic is "Everyone's Rules of Healthy Living"! Do you take a walk every day? Or do you drink anything special?! Maybe you always try to remember to smile? Things like that...Please let me know what you all do to stay healthy😉

▼Next talk topic -Everyone's Rules of Healthy Living -Any Questions for Wakana https://wakana-fc.jp/answers/botanical_oshaberi_14/new

So, that's it for today!! Until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

[not-a-big-slay]

Natural

tangerine x fem!reader

summary: lemon catches his brother lying about his relationship, when he witnesses a glimpse of their every-day conversation....

type: fluff

warnings: swearing, very bad attempt to write an english slang

a/n: ATJ can do things to me... I've got this idea in my english class when we were talking about chores lmaoo, now yall know where my mind is at in school. anyway, i need to catch up on andor and avatar, cuz im kinda falling behind. enjoy this fic and if you like it pls comment something, it always makes my day :))

Lemon sighed at the look of another set of stairs in front of him. His brother told him it'll be the last one a few stories ago and if he wasn't already separated from him by the stairs, he would dismember him.

"That gal of yours better be Rapunzel." Lemon said once he caught up with Tangerine. He smiled and led him through a hallway. "She ain't my girl, Lemon." he confessed and kept walking while Lemon frowned. That didn't sound right. "Oh, of course not, she's just a friend you've been living with for this past month, isn't she?". Tangerine rolled his eyes. She was, of course, more than that, but calling her his sounded wrong. They never talked about this stuff, they just let them happen. "It ain't like that, it's just.." he couldn't find the right words for it and that frustrated him. Their moments was the only positive thing in his life right now and he didn't want to dig too much into it, worrying it'll be destroyed by his overthinking.

"Just fuck off, okay? I ain't intrested in your nit-picking, alright? You're lucky I'm even bringing you" he sighed and stopped in front of a door, leaning in the door frame. Tangerine had sudden second thoughts. Would she like to be introduced to his brother? Is it okay for their situation or is it too far? He would hate to scare her away, but she already heard about Lemon, so maybe it would be okay. He brought his hand to his mustache and caressed it around, deep in thought.

"Can she sense your presence or are you gonna knock?"

He almost jumped at his brother's voice that was too close to his ear. He turned to him, sending him to hell with his expression, but knocked as he requested. His heart was beating, a unfamiliar nervousness settling onto him. He was never nervous around her. In fact, this was the only place that he could truly relax in. He hated that Lemon ruined it by his stupid nosy questions. He took a deep breath and exhaled at the sound of the door opening.

The stress left him when he saw her eyes shining back at him. Her slightly raised eyebrows studied him, but her sweet smile was present as always, he had to show off his own too. "Did you forget your keys? Come in." she turned and walked inside, closing the door behind Lemon. "Hi there." he said with a nervous smile. Y/N was pretty, he didn't expect that, even though Tangerine said it quite a million times. He thought that Tangerine's pretty standard meant hot for others, but Y/N wasn't hot, not exactly. It seemed to him she was a softy, although he knew better than to believe that. She had a bit of acne on her skin, but that just added to her prettiness. She was cute, not hot, but really beautiful.

"You must be Lemon, right?" she assumed and he just nodded. She shook his hand and said: "Good, now I have most of vitamins in my house. Make yourself at home.". Lemon looked around the apartment. It was small, but cozy. The kitchen was tiny and it connected to the living room, made of one couch, a coffee table, a TV and two armchairs. All of it complimented each other colorfully. Tangerine came back from the bedroom, as Lemon assumed, holding the briefing papers they came for. Their next job started soon and Lemon has yet to read them.

"Alright, here it is." he said and handed his brother the lists, then turned to Y/N. "The window's broken by the way." he pointed to the room with his thumb and watched the girl setting down her cup of coffee. "Oh, I wanted to tell you, it happened this morning. Would you check it later?" he nodded when he heard her pleading voice. She always thought she bothered him when asking these questions when the opposite was the truth. "Yeah, sure. And we should buy more food, there's nothing here." he added, earning an agreeable nod from Y/N. "Yeah, I can do that, but first I'll mop the bathroom, it's about time I think." she spoke. Lemon returned his gaze back at the two.

"Right. Oh and give Emma the red wine I told you about." Lemon's eyes snapped on Tangerine when the words left his mouth. "Who the hell is Emma?" he asked him, but Y/N answered first. "She's just a neighbor, she helped us with the couch, so we wanted to thank her.". Lemon couldn't believe what he was hearing. His brother, an assasin, a total dickhead, thanked someone with a bottle of wine for moving a couch. "Tang, will you help me with the dishes once you're back?" Y/N said when she put the cup into a sink. "Of course, love. We gotta go now, though." he aknowledge the time and walked back to the door, stopping next to frozen Lemon that couldn't still comprehend what has happened just now. "You coming?" Tangerine spat and made his way outside, Lemon following slowly behind, waving to Y/N nervously. She waved back before her eyes widened with realization. "Oh! Tangerine!"

The man turned around, watching her swiftly walking up to them, holding a full trash bag. "Will you please take it out?". Once he nodded, she handed it to him and gave a small kiss on his cheek. She smiled a bit and said goodbye. "It was great meeting you, Lemon." she exclaimed and Lemon returned her words before the door closed again. Lemon then stared at Tangerine until he sighed and finally asked, stopping in his tracks: "What?". Lemon only widened his eyes more. "What do you think? What was that supposed to be?" he laughed at the absurdity of his brother's obliviousness. "Bruv, this ain't no talking stage, you're bloody married."

Tangerine scoffed at that. It wasn't like that. He lived with her for a while now, because of death threats he and Lemon received. They thought it would be better to separate for a bit, until it dozes off. Y/N was one of their old intel and helped them with a job once. Even though she wasn't an assasin, she gathered information for a lot of them and sold them for quite good money. He reached out to her then and they've been living together since. Lemon said that they can come out of the hiding now, but he didn't move back in with him, and doesn't plan on to.

He couldn't deny there wasn't something between them, but he wouldn't call it dating, Yes, they sleep in the same bed. They cook together and drink wine together and they are concerned when something in the house broke. Y/N treats his wounds from jobs and he returns her kidness in bed. Yet they have never talked about it. It just happens one time. Their first kiss was on the balcony, late at night when none of them wanted to sleep. It was a clear decision, he wanted to do that and she as well. He was so certain of it and it just came naturally. The next morning no one uttered a word of it, but she kissed him during breakfast, smoothly, as if it was a normal thing to do, just natural. And thus everything else began, every next step came in its own time, both of them weren't trying to take it, they knew when it was time to do so. Everything between them was clear.

Y/N told him she loved him, as if it was an obvious thing to say. He said it back two days later, feeling certain of it. Lemon didn't understand their connection and he wasn't right to assume so.

"You've got it wrong, Thomas." he walked pass him and out of the building. The goal was to anger Lemon with a bad reference to his favorite show, but he laughed out loud and confidently followed Tangerine out. "Does she know that, though?"

Tangerine rolled his eyes and went to throw out the trash. Lemon won't get it, but as long as they were sure, he couldn't give a shit about his opinion.

However he had to admit one thing he said.

‎

She was his girl.

[blueathens]

Once Upon A Time - Chapter One

Summary: Charles was never allowed to leave the castle, until one day he, and his best friend Pierre, decided to break the rule and leave the castle walls, only to bump into the well-known criminal, Robin Hood, who doesn’t see them in the same golden light that they were raised within. But Charles decides to ignore her hatred and becomes the bane of her existence.

Song: Whistle Shop by Roger Miller Quote: ‘You’re invited to The Royal Leclerc’s Masquerade Ball.’ Word Count: 9819

TW: A direct narrator (only at times, then switches to third person - give the feel of a book being read to you like someone usual did for us when we were children), mention of death, mention of murder, 

A/N: Not proof-read or edited. A/N 2: Taglist and detailed references found in reblog!

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

          ACT ONE, CHAPTER ONE

(Ah, where to begin? How about once upon a time…

…How many times have you heard that to begin a story? Let’s do something else.

In a far-off land, where – what? That’s been done too? In fairy tales? Ha, no, this story is far from a fairy tale, in fact it isn’t even one. Nor is it a legend or a myth, or even a bedtime story that you were grown and raised on as a child, this isn’t a story that you’ll know line by line, and this is not something that will be turned into a film or tv show.

No.

This is simply life.

With our Planet Earth that holds vast oceans, forests, and lands such as England, Greece, Monaco, Zosnurg and – you’re kidding…you don’t have a country called Zosnurg on your version of Earth?

What about pirates? Mermaids? Sirens? Dragons? Fairies? Krakens? Vampire Mermaids? Chimeras?

…None?

So, this would be like one of your stupid fantasy books then? Okay…well, let’s just get some things straight then before we start this boo – these lives that I’ll be talking about.

(Which I suppose in some way is a story if I’m talking abo– I, as a narrator, will stop talking now…)

(I do apologise)

Rule One.

This is not a fairy tale.

Yes, we have witches and princes’, and balls, and enchanted forests, and adult-eating witches, and even the children-eating witches too, mermaids of all forms, dragons, chimeras, and even werewolves and lycans, pukwudgie, and dryads.

And yes there is a yucky love story.

And yes there are sword fights, and war, and love and hatred, and death and –

Alright, I know this may sound like a ‘fairy-tale’ but isn’t everything a fairy tale? You have two love interests who have to go through a lot to be together? Sounds kind of like one to me…Only difference is that we don’t need to battle a dragon, well talking to my mother sometimes feels like I’m battling a–

Anyways, life is a fairy tale, a rubbish one, but a fairy tale, nevertheless.

But this isn’t the typical annoying fairy tale where the knight in shining armour goes and rescues the princess from her tower and shares a true loves kiss once the dragon is slayed.

No, that’s just fucking lame.

Instead the prince befriends a dragon, and he doesn’t save a princess, there are no princesses, well there are, but they aren’t important, this isn’t about them.

This is about the prince and the criminal and – what on earth are you talking about? You’ve seen fairy tales like this before? Get lost.

I told you once, and I’ll tell you again, this isn’t a fairy tale – this is real, not make belief, but real.

This isn’t so called Aladdin or Rapunzel – I mean Tangled – this is real life.

This isn’t a fairy tale.

In fairy tales life is presented as blissful and magical and makes you want to gouge your eyes out because you know you can never live a life where birds will get you ready for the day. Whilst in other fairy tales you feel like you are on the spinning teacups, and nausea creeps up on you from what you’re experiencing.

(Cause I’ll come clean now, I’ve never had any of my grandmothers be swallowed up by a wolf or ever seen a man become blinded by brambles).

No, these lives I’ll be telling you about will either leave you crying or smiling or perhaps even laughing – but most likely you’ll be crying, cursing my name for ever telling you about these people.

I am not sorry.

But just a pre warning – this is not a fairy tale.

Rule Two.

Don’t worry, you won’t have to hear my lovely narration voice all the time, I chose not to.

(I don’t get paid enough for that).

But when I do decide to talk with you I will do so in italics and in brackets (as so illustrated) – I have a few notes about these people for example how bloody stupid our main female character is and –

Rule Three.

We do not, and I mean, do not break out into a musical number, we don’t do that here. Absolutely not. And no singing birds are going to help get anyone dressed either or clean their house – they aren’t lazy – life doesn’t allow anyone to be this lazy.

There are no such things as true loves kiss – a little kiss is not bringing anyone to life – unless magic is involved of course, but that’s an entirely different story.

There is no happy endings too, that doesn’t exist, never has, never will, people will die, we will cry, but then we’ll move on and carry them with us.

Even she will di–

Rule Four.

No spoilers.

(Now, that’s all the rules I can read in my messy handwriting across this coffee-stained napkin that obviously didn’t contain the pretty barista’s number.

…

There was no pretty barista

It was just Sue, the sixty-old woman who knows my order off by heart, but claims to dislike me – however, she did smile at me earlier after I spilt coffee all over myself, so guess she doesn’t hate me…)

Oh and –

Rule Five.

This is not a fairy tale.)

                                             ❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

This is the story about a girl named Y/n and it starts with the sun.

Most are unaware how the once worshipped as a god by various of religions and cults ever came around, and just like the star that’ll burn the believers who venture too close, no one could remember how their King became King and when the Queen fell pregnant three times, gifting their world with three beautiful boys.

The first passed the crown down, the third shall remain a prince, and the second is deemed to be king one day.

To the world, this families beginnings felt like a fever dream – a gorgeous one though, and most carried such a strong love for them, but not all, some carried a strong hatred for them and had been wanting a revolution for ages.

A passerby once told his children, after a trip to Eynsworth one spring, that he never had much thought of their sun being a star, he knew it was, but he never felt like it was. Not until he, after meeting the royal family, had the pleasure in holding their second born, a few months after his birth, and my, the passerby never felt so close to the sun, nor did he fear being burnt. In his hands he was holding something golden; something godly. Just like the sun. But it wasn’t the sun, no, it was a gift from the golden beams above them, he was a star. He was their new star, their sun.

On the 16th of October a son was born. A prince. And he was given the name Charles.  

Their future king.

Our star, our sun.

It was hard not to love the prince who found himself trapped within castle walls, barely venturing out into the world, but when he does he’s constantly close to his father as they enter new lands (for him at least) where all hand his gifts to his knights – his protectors – with flowers and gifts. Only soft smiles were what he was allowed to retrieve, no other gifts of any sorts should be handed to him directly.

(There were many soft smiles which later turns into flirty looks from those his age as he grew up).

Along with growing older, where falling in love was more on someone’s mind, Charles never become blind in seeing how his best friend and his first knight-in-training, Pierre Gasly, wasn’t shy of the extra attention that was given when Charles was allowed to see the world outside the castle walls. Little winks thrown around and bright smiles whilst the prince watched in disgust before taking a strong interest in the world around him, watching how the clouds glided through the sky, forming different works of arts for all to enjoy, and how the branches of the trees waved them off for their travels, knowing the next time they are seen a new image will be formed, quite possibly a picture of what they saw on their travels.

(All in all, one person stayed on his mind, the one he meets growing up, the other main character of our stor–of these lives).

Once, at the age of seven, he saw the sea for the first time, and he wondered what it would be like to feel the salty air tickling his skin, embracing him in a warm hug where his cologne is replaced with the smell of the sea. He even wondered what life as a fish would be like, swimming endlessly through the waves as it dodged every obstacle in their way. He wondered if they felt lonely down there just as he does within the palace walls, hoping for a struck of bravery to hit him to just leave and see the world for a moment, even just for a second, just to go on an adventure without anything bothering him.

He wondered if the sea felt grateful to be holding such beauty in their arms, cradling it, kissing it, and bringing it deeper into their warmth, with some even grazing the sandy fingers of Poseidon. He imagines that the graze occasionally turns into a handshake, welcoming those to a new view, begging them to lie down in the pit of darkness to try and spot a single beam of light – they never do, they’re in too deep.

Charles questioned his breathing ability, the young boy would hold competitions in the pool at home where he timed himself on how long he could hold his breathe as he sits on the bottom, he thinks maybe one day he could be like those aquatic animals that reach the bottom to shake Poseidon’s fingers. Poseidon’s ‘spot the sun’ game would eventually become to easy then, as the sun would be in his grasp, smiling brightly at him as he whispers, “I did it.” And all Poseidon would do is nod as he looks at the boy’s eyes that (of right now) resembles the colour of the sea on postcards that grandparents send to their grandchildren.

The sun child even wondered if the sun felt any different if he was elsewhere, maybe it feels warmer if he was in a place he loves instead in one of the many gardens of his castle or the small amount of times he’s with his father in a different country doing something of work – which his father calls father and son bonding.

Maybe his skin becomes painted in various shades of gold, letting him stand with a cheery smile whilst looking like a lost jewel in a faraway land. Where he watches the clouds shift and change like a person’s mood and observes the sky’s colour platter shattering from the phenomenon of the sun setting.

The Prince of England, Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc of many of the Grandale Islands (a group of various places, islands, and countries that the family have ownership over. One of the most recent ones that the Leclerc’s took ownership of was when Charles was just five years old, after a neighbouring (and independent) country (Zosnurg) became littered with destruction, gore, and weapons as England battled them for land. (Charles’ second home country, despite being born in Monaco, his father decided to move the family to England after the birth of his last son) The air of Zosnurg was filled with numerous of smokes that contributed to the deaths of many on the battlefields. An army of rebels and an army of warriors would once constantly fight each other to the death for the land that both kings desired. It was unclear of what side would win; it formed a tiresome fear for those nearby as they dreaded to think of the war becoming never-ending. The fighters were grimed with pain, exhaustion, and their spirits were broken. The war was soon ended by King Raphaël (the father of the Leclerc’s) killing the King of Zosnurg with his sword.)

Charles recalls growing up with some of the kind souls around the castle, watching with a frown as the lower statuses had to clean the mess up, rebuild the economy that was destroyed by the war with the rich bossing them around. He remembers watching them nearly everyday from his bedroom window, or from the carriage as they rode through the towns like Aramore (a poor town that was mainly affected by the war as it was often targeted with bombs for a few months). Most of England was left undamaged though, only a small percentage of the country was damaged, it was Zosnurg that carried most of the destruction and those of Zosnurg had to rebuild their country like the first citizens of their country once did.

It was the Leclerc’s property now.

He wasn’t allowed to do anything about the mess, nor ask to help, or even ask his family about it. All he got told was it was not his business yet and that he was far too young to worry about such a thing.

So, growing up, trapped in the castle, and venturing out as little as possible, he watched as far as he could see get rebuilt, and become better than it once was. Soon, he was allowed out, it was about a year later, his godfather – his older brother’s best friend – Eric Russo– was given the permission to take him out karting in their city, Eynsworth. He grew to love the sport, later watching Eric, from the TV, travel the world to race.

Along with karting, the prince took up other activities to keep him occupied within the castle walls, even going as far as painting, but was quick to discover that was not his forte.

Charles was ten years old though when he first heard of a person who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. And it was a month after the discovery that he learnt how much his father hated this mysterious figure who’s blacked out silhouette littered the tea-stained wanted posters that was flown to country-to-country, hanging round in various places.

Wanted for £3000. Alive. Name: Robin Hood

That was the name the whispers would call them after the fourth robbery. It was a cool spring evening, and the robbery affected a close family friend, Mr Clive. They took anything that was valuable, and when discovered that there was a robbery, the bells of the townhall began to ring, people of Eynsworth then began to venture out and onto the streets in the early morning, sleeping dust prickling their eyes as they stood in the breeze. They were all dressed in their pyjamas as they watched Mr Clive – the man who was robbed – walk around in nothing but boxers as he stormed right towards the castle with his very young-looking wife begging him to do this at a better time.

No, the only good time was of right now. He demanded for the thief to be found, and the King agreed as he stares at the barely dressed man in the front gardens of his home from Arthur’s (his youngest son) bedroom window.

The following week new wanted posters were being sent out.

Wanted for £10,000. Alive. Name: Robin Hood. Presumed Description: Professional man around the age of twenty to thirty, who’s a skilled thief, fighter, and archer.

The days after Mr Clive’s robbery, many more got robbed, some even finding arrows outside their houses or even watched how the thief dodged the thrown slippers, wooden spoons, chairs and even vases sent their way.

Many questioned on the presumed age of this criminal, but they never thought on the matter long as they presumed that due to everything happening so quickly they couldn’t quite judge on how old this criminal may be.

However, at first thought they believed the criminal was too small to be of around presumed age, but as mentioned before, they never allow themselves to dwell on the matter long enough.

The week after new wanted posters were sent out along with a new wanted poster for Robin Hood’s partner.

Wanted for £30,000. Alive. Name: Robin Hood. Presumed Description: Professional man around the age of twenty to thirty, who’s a skilled thief, fighter, and archer.

Wanted for £5,000. Alive. Name: Little John. Presumed Description: Professional man around the age of twenty to thirty, who’s a skilled thief and partner of the notorious Robin Hood.

It was discovered that the archer was partnered with someone after Mr Clive got robbed once more. After falling down his stairs, hurrying down to capture the intruders with a broken torch in his hand, he watched the moment he swung his front door open with a throbbing head, as the pair, already at such a great distance, carried sacks of money over their shoulders, laughing with their heads thrown back as they pushed the other around.

On his 13th birthday, the discovery of Robin Hood and Little John being children were uncovered. No one was quite sure who leaked this piece of information, some say that someone accidently let it slip, some even mentioned that perhaps the duo robbed them and then they caught sight of how young they looked, some even suggested that maybe the duo wronged the anonymous person and they wanted to get their revenge.

Charles believes none of the suggestion were the correct reasons.

Robin was 12, nearly 13, (an age that was incredibly shocking and was being slowly processed by the world) and Little John was just 15.

And once again, prices were raised.

“Your dad should hire them to be one of his knights,” Pierre suggested one night in Charles racing themed bedroom, all of his brothers, Pierre and Eric being locked in there whilst a meeting was being held right outside about Robin Hood and Little John after they easily battled and escaped the King’s best men – no injuries were occurred, nothing but bruised egos and dignities.

Lorenzo, Charles’ older brother, scoffs whilst Eric shook his head in disagreement. “Why would someone who sounds like they hate the rich, join them?”

“People change,” the young French boy tries to argue. “Right amount of money and he could be running to Raphaël’s side.”

“The price over their head is a lot already. I don’t think they–”

“He?” Charles arched a brow as he looked over at Pierre, who sat on his bed whilst Charles sat on the windowsill to watch the chaos below him. “What do you mean he? I don’t think it’s a he by how people talk of their movements.”

“It’s a kid our age, Charles, they’ve been doing this for years, they aren’t going to be noisy.”

“Still don’t think it’s a he though. Doesn’t make sense – maybe Little John is, but Robin Hood can’t be.”

“What are you–”

“I think Charles is right…” Arthur looked up from the game device he was playing on, handed by Lorenzo to keep the 11-year-old entertained. “I heard whispers that it is a she.”

“You went out?” Lorenzo’s firm voice came, laced with concern. “You’re not supposed to–”

“No way,” whistled Pierre. “Impossible.”

“Cool.” Charles nodded. “Maybe she can give you all a tip or two on how to fight, shoot an arrow and not be as noisy as a Heffalump.” He teased as he looked at Eric, Lorenzo, and Pierre as he mentioned the skills they’ve been lacking most in.

“Mate do not relate me to those things in the forest,” Pierre groaned. “They’re not cool.”

“How are purple elephants not cool?” Arthur piped in, furrowed brows as he stared down the older boy.

“Are you trying to say you are cool?” Eric smirked as he folded his arms.

Heffalumps are said to be dangerous creatures, but Lorenzo had told Charles about the whispers among the caring citizens (the poor who lived in their lack of riches town; Aramore) that those hunter’s stories are all false, that these creatures were actually rather friendly, and they are cruel to the hunters as they are the ones trying to kill them.

He even told Charles the story of how he even was lucky enough to meet and touch a Heffalump with these three children of Aramore that was around Charles’ age. It was a few years ago, but it was a memory Lorenzo would carry forever as for once he wasn’t treated as a prince, or a knight in training, he was just treated as himself, as Lorenzo.

He felt free.

Charles and Arthur envied him for it, envied how he was allowed to go out and do what he wishes whilst they befriended the paintings on the walls.

Charles looked away from the group and turned to look back out the window only to find a butterfly pressed against his window, his vibrant coloured wings not at show, and Charles begin to hate the insect he was staring at.

Hated how it was allowed to sore the grey skies, hated how it was allowed to taste the sweet nectar of the plants around and he wondered if he would ever be deemed lucky enough to taste something as lovely as that. He wondered if he was beautiful like a butterfly, if someone looked at him like Aphrodite herself, and be able to memorise every part of him with their eyes closed.

Charles doesn’t think he’ll ever be that lucky, so he left himself wondering if a butterfly knew everything about flowers, wondered if they knew which one had the sweetest nectar, and which ones to stay away from, he wondered if they ever felt safe in those cocoons they break out of after the transmission from a caterpillar to a butterfly was complete – he wondered if they felt that change, if they realised they were now a beautiful and elegant insect that everyone admired from afar but were too scared that a simple touch would shatter them.

It was a month after his birthday that two faces were placed onto the wanted posters after they attempt to rob from Eynsworth Castle. Failing to do so due to the amount of protection these places were gaining over the years, his home being the most. A knight caught them, and after a difficult battle that ended with an arrow in the Knight’s thigh, he was able to give the King and Queen a detailed description on their Robin Hood and Little John.

No name was given, and no name was being found out any time soon. But his parents and those of riches were ecstatic with this newfound information.

Wanted for £50,000. Dead or Alive. Name: Robin Hood. Age: 12 approx. Gender: Female

Above the silhouette changed to a drawn picture of the girl and the presumed personal description was ripped out and in came her age and gender. And after the attempted Eynsworth Castle robbery, King Raphaël and Queen Anna agreed that they didn’t not care how this archer was handed in.

Death may even be better as there was no way she would be able to escape.

Wanted for £10,000. Alive. Name: Little John. Age: 15 approx. Gender: Male

And just like Hood’s, his silhouette was changed to a drawn image of him.

Everyone was still in shock about the age, but now their shock grew at the thought that it was a female who was causing them so many problems for so many years. Charles and Arthur were the only ones who weren’t shocked as they collected their packets of chocolate buttons from those around the castle who all disagreed with the idea of Robin Hood being a female.

“It’s not really criminal though, is it?” Pierre asked as he, Eric, Lorenzo, Arthur, and Charles laid on the grass in one of the many gardens of the castle. “It’s more deviant, no?”

“I wouldn’t say it such a bad thing,” Lorenzo muttered, arms under his head as his eyes stayed on the stars above them.

“How bad is it out there? For the poor?” Charles asked curiously, never truly knowing how bad it was for them, only seeing small sights of it when he did go near those areas.

“They have it bad,” Arthur muttered, eyes closed as he too rested his folded arms behind his head. He could feel Lorenzo’s eyes burning into the side of his head at the mention of his little trips outside the castle walls without anyone. “It’s like dad forgets they exist and just shoves them to the side.” He shifts to French casually as his mind thought on the way they live.

“Oh,” he nibbles on his bottom lip as his eyes counted the stars.

He loves the stars, truly does, he wishes he could join them for a moment and just sparkle and dance up there as they guide people home, forming little imagery onto the sky too. He wouldn’t want to stay forever, would find it too boring, but he’ll like to know what being a star was like.

He even wanted to know how to find these constellations, he reads books and searches the web for tips on how to spot them, but still, as night passes he still finds himself struggling to even find the beginning of one.

“When I’m King I wouldn’t push them to the side…we’ll be equals.”

“Cute vision,” Eric utters in French. “But that isn’t as easy as you make it out to be.”

The boys laid in silence as they watched different things. Like for Arthur he was seeing those weird dots you see when your eyes are shut. For Lorenzo, he was still admiring the stars along with Charles. For Eric, he was watching the trees wave in the gentle breeze. And Pierre was sat up, knees brought to his chest as he pulled out strands of grass and twisted them around his fingers to act as a ring.

“She’s quite pretty, no?” Pierre whispered in French, loud enough for them to hear, but they knew the question was more aimed towards his best friend than any of the others.

“Who?” Charles asks, responding back in the same language, oblivious to what Pierre was getting at as he connected the dots his own way to form a future for himself.  

“This ‘Robin Hood’ girl.”

“Does it matter?” Pierre sighed as he looked up from the strand of grass, only to stare at his friend’s side profile as he babbled on in French and avoided a simple question. “I’d prefer if she’s a good person than if she looks nice.”

“But she’s pretty, no?” Pierre arches a brow, corner of his lip pointing up into a smirk as he hears his friend sigh and close his eyes.

“Oui.”

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                             Present Day – February.

 Leather boots walked among the cobblestones, dressed in a cream shirt, dark trousers, and a navy hooded jacket, with the hood over their heads, the two now fourteen-year-olds moved beneath the ever-blue sky with lacy, white-edged clouds that formed a perfect line-up in the blue, as if they were boats safely moored in a celestial harbour, with the singing birds soaring above as they acted as the fishes of the skies.

Across the cobbled streets, critters ran across, dodging the horses trotting down, nodding their heads side-to-side. One of the fourteen-year-olds had to resist the urge to stroke the horses’ head, as they didn’t know what would happen if they were caught outside the castle.

The two made their way towards a concluded alleyway and as they grew closer to the towering brick wall at the end, they decided they would climb over it once they reached that issue. The taller one of the pair, kneeled down first, linking his hands together as it hovered over his propped up knee, the other placed their foot on the other hands, feeling them boost them up for them to be able to grab ahold of the top edge of the wall, their hand brushed against a tea-stained paper hanging on the wall, but before it could move up any further, an arrow whistled past them, skidding the side of the shorter one’s fingers as it hit and wobbled in the poster beside him.

The action made the pair pause, the kneeled down one looked up whilst the other looked over his shoulder to try and find the one who shot the arrow. The taller one let the shorter one down before he takes a watchful step in front of him as they watched the alleyway’s self-crafted shadows in front of them carefully.

Approaching out the shadows was a slightly shorter, and hooded figure, the bow in their hand was still raised whilst the other was over their shoulders, plucking out another arrow from their brown quiver. They stepped into the light more as they nocked their arrow, drawing the string back as they made the pair their target. The archer was dressed in a dark forest green cape with black cargo trousers and ruined boots. Their clothes were already covered in mud, and they watched as the figure instructed with their head for the two to lower their hoods and raise their arms.

“Money, now.” The hooded figure demanded.

“You can shove that arrow right up where–”

“That’s not very princey of you,” they smirk under their hood. “Did the King never tell you how dangerous it was out here?”

“Princey isn’t even a word,” the tallest of the pair folded their arms, muttering.

“Money, now.” They released the arrow; it skimmed past and shot threw the first arrow they released.

One of the two threw a small satchel of coins and the hooded figure just sighed as they placed their bow over their head, nestling it at a safe angle across her back.

“You’re Robin Hood.” The Prince breathlessly says as he watches her pick up the small satchel of coins.

She hums, bowing down dramatically as she grins up at the pair. “It is I,” she then raises from her bowing position and places a hand on her chest as she takes a step closer to the two. “And you two are Prince Charles Leclerc and his…Pierre Gasly?” The figure now stands a few feet away from them now, pushing down her hood for the pair of them to look at her. “Shouldn’t you two be…I don’t know…anywhere but here?”

Pierre mouth fell agape at the sight of her.

“You must know,” she continues, “we don���t like your type very much?”

“And what is our type?” Charles arches a brow, arms mimicking his best friends as he folds them across his chest.

“Rich pricks,” she offers them a fake smile, as she rounds them, ripping the poster off from her arrows as she inspects it, the two boys didn’t dare to make a run for it. They knew the stories already, even if they ran she would still catch up with them.

Her brows raise. “Still just £50,000? Is that all I’m worth to you guys,” the corner of her lips quirk up. “Suppose I should do something soon to make that go higher, ay?” The pair stayed silent as she span on her heel and moved closer to the wall to take down the other poster from the wall.

Their eyes were on her back as she looks down at both posters, they hear an airy laugh leave her lips.

She now turns back to face the two as she presented the two posters to them, as if it was the first time they ever saw them. “At least they can get my nose right,” she comments as she peers over at the other wanted poster. “Unlike Danny’s.”

“You just–”

“Told you Little John’s name?” She looks up, a smirk still playing at her lips. “Thought our little rat told the royals that already?” They shook their heads as she hummed in surprise. “Well, it be rude to not introduce ourselves, no? Considering we’ll be the ones who will take down your type of people.” She scrunches the posters up in her hands before stuffing it into her trousers pocket, she then holds out her hands for the pair to shake. “I’m Y/n – Y/n L/n, and my mate is Daniel Ricciardo.” She awaits for them to shake her hand, but their pair just stays staring at. “Suppose you don’t shake a peasant hand,” she puts her hand down, “proves to show why we don’t respect you.” She spat out before shrugging her shoulders as she too mimicked the way their arms were crossed against their chest. “Do what you wish with our names, no doubt that little mole be telling that King sooner or later.”

“You’ve got quite the reputation.” Pierre couldn’t help but say.

“Reputation?” She tilts her head, smirk still playing at her lips, they thought it was painted on as not once have they ever seen it fall, except the small falter of it when neither of them shook her hand. “I have a reputation?”

“Yeah, the steal from the rich and give to the poor reputation.”

She lets out another airy laugh.

“I’m just doing what the King can’t do.” Y/n half-shrugs as she pulls her hood back on. “We aren’t lucky like you, Princey.” Her eyes shifts to just focus on Charles.

“It’s still not a word,” Pierre comments next to Charles.

“Still don’t care,” she rubbed her dirty hand down her face. “We don’t have people running us a bath and we don’t have someone baking my bread, but at least I know that I earned that bread; and my god do I deserve it.”

“They say you’re a common theft.”

“Can’t be common with that price over my head.” She teased, sniffling her nose slightly as she looked around before looking at Charles again, the one who was mainly speaking to her now.

She noticed how clean the pair looked and how well put together they were. They didn’t look as slim as she did as they were able to get the food they needed. Their hairs were slightly longer than she expected it to truly be, she thought their highly paid hairdressers would be there giving them a nicer cut, but instead they looked like two teens who were just experiencing different styles for their hair.

The thirteen-year-old girl looked at the two fourteen-year-olds curiously, examining every difference they had over her. They held themselves tall, but their eyes held a sense of disorientation in them, it was like they were a lost puppy, not knowing what to do or where to go.

“Do you think I’m a criminal?” She questioned. “It wouldn’t matter if you do. We’re not going be friends,” she rambles. “Just curious to know how you see u–”

“No.” Charles answered over her short rambling, and she stopped and looked over at them. “I don’t think you’re a criminal for trying to keep everyone alive.”

Y/n titled her head to the side.

“You don’t know what it’s like do you?” She asked quietly, and for once in their meeting she wasn’t carrying that smirk. “You really don’t know how bad it is, do you?”

They just shook their heads.

“It’s best you don’t,” she cleared her throat. “Don’t need to save anymore of you guys.”

Pierre raises a brow. “Who have you saved?”

“Eric and Lorenzo,” she purses her lips, “more times than I can count on one hand.”

“My younger brother, Arthur,” Charles begins, “he hasn’t been around here, has he?”

“Why? Scared we’ll do something?” She rolls her eyes. “I haven’t seen him, but I hear he’s with Wyatt and Lando a lot.”

“Who are they exactly?”

“Good kids that you won’t ever go near,” she narrows her eyes at them. “In fact, it be best if the pair of you leave Aramore and don’t come back. Tell those three that too. Stick to your little rich friends and the things you know, alright? And I’ll go home and tell my folks that I hit the jackpot, that I robbed the Prince and his knight in training.” She takes one more step closer to them. “If this was a story, I’ll die in the end. You know, with being wanted and all. They know enough and I’m surprised they haven’t caught me at least once yet.” Y/n shook her head as she walks past the pair. “Go back to your little castle.”

“Huh,” Pierre unfolds his arms. “She really don’t like us.”

Charles shakes his head, “but perhaps we can change her mind.” He states as he too puts his hood back on, Pierre copying before they walk out of the alleyway. Despite her leaving mere seconds before them, she was nowhere in sight when they exited the one-way alleyway.

“Get your Daily News right here!” A voice yelled as he held a stack of newspapers whilst the boy next to him waved one in the air, holding his cap out for change to fall into. “Get your Daily–”

Charles hits Pierre in the arm, nodding his head towards the two, what he presumes, are twelve-year-olds. They swiftly make their way towards them, standing in front of them as Charles places two coins into their cap.

“Bonjour,” Pierre greets with a smile as he takes down his hood, watching as the boys faces drop at the sight of his hood falling, their eyes then switch to Charles, who also pushed down his hood. “We’ll like a paper, s’il te plait.”

The boys looked between one another in confusion before they handed the dark-haired boy a paper.

“Not to be rude but what you doing here?” One of the British boys asked as the other elbowed his side.

“Lando!” He whispered loudly.

“Wyatt – they shouldn’t be here. What if Y/n and Daniel–”

Pierre and Charles looks at one another at the mention of the boys names. These must be the ones that Arthur sneaks out to hang out with.

“Oh,” Pierre smiles, “we’ve met that Robin Hood friend of yours. Robbed us and everything.”

Wyatt looks into his hat with a frown, “clearly not well enough.”

Charles tucks the paper under his left arm.

Lando carefully looks around to see if anyone else has noticed the Prince and his Knight in training with them, he then leans forwards slightly to speak with them quietly. “Aramore doesn’t like your family very much, your highness,” Lando quips.

“But our Robin Hood and Little John have always held the highest of hatred for those in Eynsworth and spits at the names of the Leclerc’s who has wrong us all,” Wyatt continued off from Lando.

“My father is a good man,” Charles tries to convince the boy, perhaps even try and convince himself, but the two Aramore boys just shakes their heads with laughter.

“Suppose she is right after all. All you rich folks are as stupid as it comes.” Charles and Pierre share a look.

“But you met her?” Lando speaks up again. “Like you actually met her?”

They both nod.

“And she didn’t knock either of you out?” He watched the pair freeze. “Oh,” Lando pauses, “I only asked because of how much she hates your – your type. But Y/n isn’t a bad person. Sure, she’s made mistakes – but she’s a good person.”

“Thought you be more careful with sharing other’s names like that.”

Wyatt shrugs at Charles’ pointed look. “Don’t need to when the whole city now knows it,” he nods his head to the newspaper under Charles’ arms. “It’s the headline today – Y/n L/n and Daniel Riccardo are the Robin Hood and Little John. The King doesn’t want this shared with the whole world yet though, perhaps that’s the smartest thing he’s ever asked.”

“So the mole has already told my father?”

Wyatt only shrugs.

“You two should really leave though,” Lando stutters out slightly. “Aramore won’t be safe for either of you and when night comes it will only become even more dangerous.”

“It is a full moon,” Wyatt smiles and now Lando elbows his side.

“Dude!”

“What?!”

“You saying that werewolves be out tonight?” Pierre laughs slightly. “Ah, werewolves don’t exist.”

Lando and Wyatt share a look.

“Just,” Lando starts again, “just return to your castle, your highnesses’.”

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(As long as anyone could remember, it has always been the Leclerc’s throning their land, but it is to be known that they aren’t all as bad as Raphaël and Anna, in fact, they are the only two that anyone could remember being so terrible. His father was a good man – a good King who died far too soon, and then there was Raphaël’s older brother, but no one can remember what happened to him, one moment he was there preparing to be King himself, and the next thing they heard was that he left and wouldn’t be returning and that Raphaël shall be King instead.

Many things crumbled when Raphaël become King, our Robin Hood was about two years old when life become worst, never seeing what life was like before, only knew them from the stories others would tell her, and those stories sketched the idea of revolution into her brain, one could argue that it’s always been in her blood and all she needed was a single lit match to guide her to see it.

So, for as long as she could remember, she always had a desire for revolution, to overthrow Raphaël Leclerc in any way possible and bring back the life that only her ears were ever blessed with hearing. Bring back the world where one shouldn’t be afraid that in a matter of a second they could be stabbed, or questioning if that snap of a twig was a person following them instead of an innocent deer, and even bring back the world where everyone isn’t just waiting for another war too happen.

She wants to bring back the world where others were seen more as equals, the world where the poor was being helped and weren’t clinging onto their last seconds of life, and the world where the rich weren’t so greedy and treacherous and kissed the ground for a man who usurped the crown.

Robin Hood was the people’s only hope. She robbed from the rich to feed the poor. She was beloved by all people from England, and by the age of twelve, she was known and loved in other countries. Robin and her best mate Little John – also known as Y/n L/n and Daniel Ricciardo – are found hidden in Aramore, one of England’s poorest town’s.

King Raphaël has heard rumours on this information, but it is yet to be confirmed to the rich if it she truly awaits in Aramore.

You know, there’s been a heap of legends and tall tales about our Robin Hood. All different too. Well, fellow readers, here is the true version).

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“This is the story of how I died.”                                                                                                  

“Y/n!” Daniel shoved the younger girl’s shoulder who was left chuckling at the frozen states of youngster’s with their mouths wide open.

“How can you be dead?” One questioned, tilting their head. “You look alive.”

“Because she is.” Daniel gave a short glare to his best friend before turning his head to beam at the kids. “She just messing with you,” he elbows her side. “Jokester this one.” The children looked between the two. “Now, Y/n, tell the real story.”

“Fine,” she rolls her eyes, “this one is more boring though – Once Upon A Time…”

(Y/n L/n and Daniel Ricciardo weren’t originally from Eynsworth, instead they were from a town called Neverland – which was a small island in the region of the Harsano Islands. They were both raised in an orphanage that was ran by some very cruel people. They all evacuated though when their country got overtaken by Raphaël.

They all escaped to England; Y/n was just nine).

The Orphanage – The Lost Boys – were a worldly known orphanage that many thought to be a good, well-run place, instead, for the children that lived there, it was like a game of survival. Y/n L/n and Daniel Ricciardo were always trouble, even back then, both being secretly taught how to survive by a woman who was only meant to teach them English, but instead she was their mentor for fighting, how to use a bow and arrow, and basic survival skills.

It happened away from eyes that would hurt them terribly if they ever discovered the truth, whether that was children that will tell on them or if it was Peter Pan and Cruella De Vil themselves catching sight of this little self-made club.

Growing up, they were taught on how to be everything wrong – in the eyes of the owners it was everything right – with being raised with the wrong thoughts of the poor and how they should be mistreated, that creatures out there should be killed, and even the fact that if one isn’t hurt then they will never learn.

Children shouldn’t have parents, and they shouldn’t grow up either.

They shouldn’t know how to survive in the real world, and they shouldn’t be able to protect themselves.

Y/n was told she was wrong in the way she thought, that children have a mind of their own, and that they will all grow up and leave Pan and Cruella here in this huge building alone – Pan didn’t like what the six-year-old was telling him, not one bit, so in front of everyone’s eyes, he bashed a rock into the side of her head until she fell unconscious, only waking up at the feeling of a cold flannel being pressed against her head by Daniel and their mentor – Tania – checking her over.

She still carries that scar on the top of her head.

She was six years old when Peter Pan and Cruella De Vil saw her as their main target to hurt, Y/n didn’t mind though, as long as the other children were left unharmed, then she’ll carry as many scars that will tell her tale.

“My mother wasn’t a good person,” Y/n mentioned one day in her training, when she was just seven years old, Tania raised her brows in surprise that Y/n knew this, she wasn’t meant to know but here she was talking about it, “She – it was mentioned in my file.”

“You read your file?”

She nods. “I just wanted to know more about…I just wanted to find out–”

“No,” Tania shook her head. “You shouldn’t have looked at that.”

“I didn’t think it be bad,” Y/n frowned, looking down at her feet as she kicked a piece of gravel from the ground away. “Why did you agree to do this after what my – what she did? I could be the same, you know.”

“You aren’t,” Tania was quick to mention. “You aren’t the same and you never will be. Your mother was a bad person, I know this to be true. I know this as she was the one who slit my daughter’s throat. But if I’d seen even an ember of that cruelty in you I never would’ve agreed to mentor you,” Tania took a step forwards, rubbing a gentle thumb across Y/n’s cheek before holding her hands in a motherly hold. “She may have given birth to you, but she doesn’t get to decide who you become – you do that.”

“Was my father a better person at least.”

“He was one of the greatest men I have ever met, he just, he fell for the wrong person and death caught up with him sooner than we would have liked.” Tania squeezes the youngster’s hand. “He would have loved you and would been so proud of you.”

“Maybe not,” Y/n shrugs, “maybe not because if he was still alive then I wouldn’t be here, I would be living with him and I would be a different person.”

Y/n was still seven years old when there was news that Cruella’s new fur-coat belonged to the creature that she yells to all on how she believes they’re all bad, and all should be skinned alive, she never was quiet on her hatred for werewolves. It was still the same day when a friend of hers questioned her opinion on werewolves – Wyatt Poitier.

“Are they bad?” The girl shoots them a confused look. “Werewolves? Are they bad? Cruella says they are – says they deserve nothing but painful death. She always said that when she finds one, she will kill it, and wear it as a fur coat.”

Y/n doesn’t think they are. Not all at least. She knows a few, all nice and all just scared humans who have extreme attributes that the average human do not carry, and perhaps their even more terrified of themselves than others are of them, because each time the moon is full they must go through the painful transition that causes others to call them a monster.

However, she was never clueless on the horrifying one that lived over in England.

Her werewolves’ friends never asked to be who they are though, they never asked to be something people find only in their nightmares. Where once someone discovers that secret, most will treat them differently, will want their death to full upon them, and some will begin to silently judge them before a simple hello is ever spilled again.  

“No,” she shakes her head. “I don’t think they are. They’re just people who also happen to be wolves. Some are good. Some are bad. Just like people.”

“Pan agrees with Cruella.”

“Well,” Y/n sits up, and leans her back against her headboard of her bed. “They would say that when they’re just the same as the bad wolves.”

The two days before they evacuated to England, Y/n and Daniel’s mentor was found dead, the news the next day insisted she died from the fire of the orphanage burning from the children – but Y/n knew it couldn’t be right as she knew no one was left in the building when she lit the match to start the amber glow.

Y/n carried the belief that it was Pan, Cruella, and the King – who was seen in Neverland earlier that week.

Y/n was just nine when she escaped to England, and she was still only nine when she become the Robin Hood who had revolution fogging up her brain.

 “And just at that moment, the ugly little frog looked up with his sad, round eyes, and pleaded, ‘oh, please dear princess, only a kiss from you can break this terrible spell.’” Y/n spoke to the kids as she told them a story she had memorised in her brain due to the amount of times the children of the orphanage read it to one another. “And–”

There was a sharp three knocks that echoed throughout the small, stoned room, all the kids that sat cross-legged on the ground whipped their heads round to look at the door, whilst only Daniel and Y/n had to lift their heads up a little. They all await for the handle of the door to be pulled down, but yet, it never does, not until Daniel calls out a “come in,” did the handle move and the door was pushed open ever so slightly, enough for young Wyatt to nervously poke his head in as he looked at the duo.

“Er,” he looked over his shoulder at something, “you two won’t like this but,” he looks at them again, “there’s a visitor for you,” he mutters before moving away and slamming the door shut.

The pair moved away from the self-crafted beanbags as they moved towards the door, ignoring the pleads from the children as they asked them to come back and finish the story. Daniel was quick to reassure them that they be back after they see who was outside. Slowly, the children moved from the floor and went off to play with some of the toys in the room.

The two slowly moved out of the door, but a hand was quick to land on Daniel’s chest as they tried to push him back into the room before he could even close the door behind him.

“Wyatt what are you-”

“Change of plans, they only want to see Y/n right now.” Wyatt whispers as he pushes Daniel back into the room whilst Wyatt followed closely behind, closing the door as he goes, leaving Y/n outside, hands on her hips as she squinted to try and find this visitor.

“This is ridiculous where is,” her eyes fall on a slightly taller figure standing in front of her, her face scrunches up in disgust. “What are you doing back here?”

The figure removes his hood.

“I’ll keep my hood up if I were you, don’t want anyone to pass by and see who you are.” She utters as she takes a look around to see if anyone was close by whilst he pulls his hood back over his head. “I thought I told you earlier that you should return back to your castle. And where’s that friend of yours? Not out here is he? Better not be causing any trou– ”

Charles rolls his eyes. “He’s with the horses.” His fingers nervously reach to the side of his cloak, running up and down the steam of it as he looked at the girl in front. “I wanted to come back and apologise.” Y/n raised a brow. “Look, I just think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Well, I think we did too.”

“Okay–”

“But I appreciate your apology.”

“Apology?” Charles breathlessly laughs before scrunching his face up. “Who said anything about an apology? I was just saying–”

“Please don’t talk anymore, okay?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she turns to look away from him. “It’s only going to upset me.”

“Well you have already me upset so–”

“Is this about robbing you?” She turns to look at him, hands dropping to her side before raising her right hand to gesture towards him. “Come on, like that’s going to hurt your bank account.”

Charles chose to ignore this as he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, he held it out for Y/n to take.

“So you wouldn’t shake my hand, but you’ll happily hand me things?”

“Your really annoying, has anyone ever told you that?”

She pinches the other side of the envelope, leaving it to dangle down as she held it from a corner. “What is this?”

“Real mature–”

“Hey if you didn’t want to shake my hand, then I don’t even want to touch you.” She eyes the golden colour of it, it almost matching her reward posters. There was no cursive writing addressing to who it was for, but it did have the blue royal stamp sealing it shut. She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at it, but she should have guessed it was an envelope from the Leclerc’s due to it being handed to her by one.  

As she ignores the colour of the envelope, she notices, without much surprise, that it was made of high-quality paper with a slightly rough feel to it – it wasn’t like the recycled stuff with bits in it like the people of Aramore use. It was just thick and heavy like letters from hundred of years ago.

Well, it be no shock if they were still using material for letters that they once did many times ago, the rich liked the traditional, they weren’t ones for big changes, so it should come to no shock that their paper felt like a rich metal, or that they weren’t even with the times and recycling their paper.

“I wanted to give you one,” Charles shrugs. “I thought it be a nice thing to do and–”

“This isn’t going to be the leading cause to my death is it?”

His eyes widen, “I hope not.” He responds in French, watching as Y/n’s face scrunches up from not understanding a word he just said. “Oh,” he frowns slightly, “I said I hope not.”

She clicks her tongue at the root of her mouth as she continues to eye the envelope and the boy in front. “Can you go now?” She questions, and before she could even watch if he does leave this time or not, she was already heading back inside to the small room she once was in, coming face-to-face with an annoyed Daniel and a Wyatt wouldn’t stop shifting on his feet.

“What’s that?” Daniel points to the thing that was still pinched in between Y/n’s thumb and forefinger.

“Poison,” she mutters, still eyeing it up in disgust.

“O-Oh, Y/n,” Wyatt stutters, “You must go,” The duo’s brows knitted together at Wyatt’s wording as they watched his eyes lit up at the sighting of what she was pinching. “You must! It be an amazing opportunity for you and, oh, Y/n, you can’t run forever; he’ll find you one day,” Wyatt warned. “Just go and have some fun and do what you do best; steal.”

“Who says I’m running?” Y/n lets out a scoff, which was slightly merged into an airy laugh too, “I’ve been here for the last five years, and if he ever gets the courage to come for me, I’ll still be right here.”

She understood that Wyatt must have figured out that this was from the royals, and by he, he must mean the King, and perhaps Wyatt thought this was a letter personally from the King, and maybe he believed this letter was going to mend everything.

But it wasn’t – that only happens in fairytales.

“But Y/n–”

Her finger slides underneath the lip of the envelope, tearing it open. She watches how the royal blue stamp that had a golden rose engraved onto it and is then surrounded with an aureate circular frame, splits into a near perfect half.

She tugs the folded black card out; she then holds it in one hand whilst the other crushes the envelope into a ball.

With her other hand, her thumb slips up from the bottom of the card, pressing down on the lined spine to open it up. Swiftly falling down like snow on a winter’s morning came two glistening silver and black tickets. The silver glitter littered across it shimmered like those elegant mirror balls found hanging from those darkened ceilings, producing thousands of different circular lights around the room.

She ignores them, but Daniel doesn’t as he bends down to collect them, eyes widening just like his friend’s as they read the same word, however one read it from the tickets, and the other read from the letter itself.

 You’re invited to The Royal Leclerc’s Masquerade Ball.

References (in order of appearances): reference to chicken little || reference to tangled || reference to swan princess || reference to robin hood || reference to robin hood || reference to tangled || reference to robin hood || reference to tangled || reference to peter pan || reference to peter pan || reference to peter pan || reference to 101 dalmatians || reference to the princess and the frog || reference to anastasia ||

Detailed References and Taglist found in reblog Likes/Reblogs/Comments always appreciated along with any ideas one may have as this very long series proceed. 

Act One Masterlist//Character Profiles//Playlist

[psalmsofpsychosis]

"#Alfred basically catches a lamb and goes

#''you're a beautiful wolf; i know you are; now you're gonna bite my hand until you draw blood so we both believe it;

#because that's the way we know how to be men.''

#and then 10 years down the line he looks at Bruce and he whispers in horror; ''that's a wolf''

#GIRL YES HE IS; YOU MADE HIM ONE. IT WAS YOU"

Your tags are so- Idk I don't have the words. No wait I DO-

THIS IS FREAKING BEAUTIFUL OMG

The way Bruce wasn't born with sharp teeth and claws to defend himself against the world. The place he was born into removed any need to grow them, but at the same time the place he was born into was the catalyst for him to turn into stone. Hard, unyielding to pressure and with its own jagged edges that you can hit until your knuckels bleed.

But the thing about stone is that you can chip away at it until it looks like what you want.

So Bruce was a lamb at the beginning, possessing talc for a heart, easy to rub to dust, but after the murders, he was molded into something different. He grew teeth and claws so big and strong it became difficult to be gentle, his heart was rubbed to dust and reformed and compressed and rubbed to dust and reformed and compressed until it turned into a diamond.

Alfred taught him how to be a wolf but didn't account on what would happen once Bruce's claws were bigger than his own.

CAN YOU TALK MORE ABOUT BRUCE AND ALFRED'S DYNAMIC PLEASE? You're literally rearranging my brain chemistry as I'm typing, wow. This feels so freaking strange. Thank you so so SO much

I wish you an AMAZING day

GOOD MAD MONDAY NOON TO YOU ANON YOU'RE KILLING ME. Like i'm over here lying face flat on the ground, head fucking full 99 thoughts per second this ride is going straight to hell—

You actually made them sound a lot like the Pygmalion myth, which is so right and true and also a very delicately apt interpretation of the way Bruce and Alfred's dynamic unfolds, particularly in Bruce's childhood, and particularly as portrayed in the Gotham series (which is my all time favourite Bruce&Alfred dynamic anyway, so excuse me for being annoying and immediately nosedive down that rabbithole)

See, to me the thing is, i dont think Bruce and Alfred understand each other at all. They're cut from very different clothes, and Alfred doesn't understand what Bruce /is/, but he understands what Bruce /can become/, maybe even what he's supposed to become, Bruce is the fifth element to him. Combine that lack of understanding and all the love and affection Alfred holds for Bruce and of course he makes a project of perfection out of him; Alfred molds and makes Bruce. Batman as a persona and as a purpose precisely exists *because of the way Alfred raises Bruce*, this is something that Gotham TV puts extra emphasis on. In many ways Alfred does carve Bruce into an idea of perfection, *his* idea of perfection, and Bruce lets him too. This is where stuff get a bit complicated though; Alfred is someone who struggles with his own humanity and darker side. He's so loving and loyal, but he's also bitter and mean with a vicious bite and he handles Bruce with such cold hands sometimes, and he hates every second of it, he hates his own humanity. So he pushes Bruce to get rid of his too, and they have this constant push and pull because Bruce has those exact traits. they're similar not in what they own about themselves, but in their shadows, when the sun shines on them their flawed humanity has the exact same shape and they both don't want a shadow; eventually the way they resolve this is by standing back to back and protecting each other and now they share their shadows and it's not so scary anymore. The Pygmalion myth as a parallel interpretation of their narrative fits so darn well because you are right, Bruce is made into stone and Alfred sculpts him to something beautiful and almost horrifying, almost inhuman, he sometimes forgets that Bruce is a person and not an idea, and it shows. But Bruce breaks mold, he always does, he forces Alfred to live with his own humanity and Bruce's, and this brings up a lot of grief for Alfred, but he loves Bruce so he finds a way to live with it and he does.

The Lamb/wolf metaphor is a different face to this same transformation process; in the early years Alfred has little space for Bruce's terrifying softness, but neither does Bruce. Bruce is scared of his own vulnurability and tenderness, this lamb *wants* to become something else, something less weak and helpless, something that could've saved his parents. He doesn't want to become a wolf persay, but the thing is, he has the makings. This is the reason Alfred can bring it out of him; he very much has the makings of a wolf. to juxtapose it with the pygmalion allegory; you cannot carve out of the stone what is not already in it. (this does bring up the question wether Bruce was ever a lamb at all, but that's a different topic for another day✨️)

anyway yep, i love your mind Anon, and thank you for the question! Hope you have an absolutely wonderful day too ❤️❤️

[unicornships]

Eeep Glen Powell and Zoey Deutch reunited for an interview together and they were freaking hilarious and their great chemistry shines through even in just a text article!! xDD Love them so much! Read the full version here: https://www.interviewmagazine.com/film/zoey-deutch-and-glen-powell-are-reviving-the-rom-com Extracted this hilarious snippet from their interview where they talk about Set It up! 

POWELL: Tell me, this (Something from Tiffany’s) is your fourth movie you produced, right?

DEUTCH: Yes, it is. And it started because of us, actually this one. About four years ago, when Set It Up came out, I know you remember this, Reese Witherspoon tweeted that she saw our movie, and she loved it, and wondered why aren’t there more great feel good romantic movies? And again, remember, and this is not to toot our own horn, when Set It Up came out, there was not a single rom-com on the scene. Nobody was making rom-coms, nobody wanted to, it was a dirty word, a dirty genre. Set It Up came out, was an accidental huge hit for Netflix. A couple weeks after, they were like, “Want to go to New York and do press?” We’re on talk shows and there’s billboards in Times Square and we’re like, “This doesn’t feel normal for a movie after it came out to get this huge push.” After that, it spawned this renaissance of the rom-com. And anyway, Reese tweeted she loved it, and that spurred a conversation between her and I, and her company Hello Sunshine, how do we make something that makes people feel good? Something From Tiffany’s, from my perspective, is less rom-com and more romantic holiday. It’s just feel-good, and warm, and positive, and the movie that you go to watch year after year during Christmas.

POWELL: That is wild. I remember meeting Reese at a party, who said she loved Set It Up. I was so shocked that Reese Witherspoon was talking to me, that I got unbelievably awkward, and I don’t even remember what I said. I just blacked out.

DEUTCH: Of course. I still black out. I have no cool. She must think I’m crazy because the way that I text her—I’m casual, and then I see her in person and I’m like looking at my shoes. You’re so beautiful. Totally a different vibe when there’s a computer in front of me, versus when there’s the Reese Witherspoon, who is my idol in every way, shape, or form.

POWELL: It looked like a very wonderful experience. There’s a glow to that movie and a glow to everyone in that movie, that seems like there’s genuine warmth in it.

DEUTCH: It was so lovely. Were you okay by the way seeing me kiss another guy? Was that hard for you?

POWELL: [Laughs] No, no, no. I wasn’t okay with it. The fact that I even had to stomach through this movie, you doing a rom-com with another man was really tough for me. But look, again, I root for you. It’s just seeing your ex run off and be happy. It always hurts.

DEUTCH: You’re a great man for being able to handle it. I don’t know if I could do it for you. It might be too hard.

POWELL: It was me just holding onto the TV and just crying hard tears and then getting on this interview. [Laughs] Anyway, I’m so freaking proud of you. Your movie’s fantastic. All three of your movies this year are fantastic. I’m coming up from this. After you come up for air from your press tour, let’s actually kick it.

DEUTCH: Yes. Love you. Thank you for doing this. I know you have so much going on. I’m really proud of you. And are you going to something tomorrow?

POWELL: Got a car pick up at 3:00 A.M. tomorrow.

DEUTCH: You are a rockstar. Go get them. I love you. I’m very proud of you.

POWELL: Love you, proud of you.

[ahamkara-apologist]

All right gonna be going ham on this one for the character asks:

4, 14, 16 for Eramis

21, 22, 23 for Taniks

9 and 26 for Misraaks

MEGA ASK GAME SO I CAN PROCRASTINATE ON WRITING MY FIC YIPPEE!!

Eramis:

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

-Oh gosh, this one's difficult. I think, if I could choose, my first thought would probably be a book, because it allows for a lot more explainations and insights into her actions than what's apparent in game; just look at how stellar her lorebooks are for explaining her POV and her actions, and how many people in the fandom/playing the game still have zero idea what she's about because of it. For a second, though, a longform tv series would be stellar, because I'm fucking obsessed with all her little mannerisms and speaking inflections and a longform tv show would also allow for the nuances of her character to shine through in a way that isn't so easily ignored. But, since she's a morally grey lesbian, I feel like she'd be shit on and ignored anyways, because there's no winning with fandom

(I AM thinking about potentially making a lore video explaining Eramis's motives pre-Revenant, but given my lack of a professional microphone, editing skills, and time, that...may be a problem. But I want to do a lorevid explaining her character one day bc damnit she's D2's most nuanced and interesting antagonist apart from Savathun and I want to explore that)

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

-I know jack shit about fashion but she's a leather jacket motorcyclist 100%. Just look at her and try to tell me otherwise. You can't. Maybe she's got a side thing of spikes and collars and whatnot but she blends fashion and utility extremely well in her canon getup, so I can't imagine it would be much different otherwise

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

-I don't really think I have a least favorite ship, tbh- there's just not enough shipping for her to begin with. Maybe her x male characters* or her x anyone romantically after losing Athrys? But that's less of a dislike thing and more that with my hcs for her (+ her being canonically only attracted to women) and the fact that I just can't see her with anyone after losing Athrys. Too much trauma, depression, and rage for any relationships to bloom, her heart is salted soil, it just doesn't work

*I know I've said that I like the thought of her and Taniks as fuckbuddies before, but this is explicitly from the perspective of my indulgence hc that Taniks is closeted genderqueer (he/she), and that Eramis sought him out for sex explicitly because she wasn't attracted to her, so she wouldn't get flashbacks to Athrys mid-fuck. I would not call this any form of shipping as much as it is me being aro and trans and craving nonromantic sexual intimacy in fandom bc I'm frustrated about how difficult it is to get irl

Misraaks

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

-Jaxx ur trying to get me to talk more about the eggfic aren't you. Anyways my fav thing to write is Putting Him In Situations (of any kind!), while my least favorite thing to write is his dialogue. I keep forgetting that Misraaks has an Eliksni-accented way of wording things compared to, say, Eramis or Eido, and that trips me up when writing him- which is ironic, bc the way he speaks in canon is how I like to write a lot of my own prose, lol

WAIT THIS WAS FOR TANIKS MY BAD. Misraaks I'll get back to you in a bit bud

Taniks

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

-HIS MANNERISMS!! I love how ruthlessly fucking wild and feral he is in canon, enough that you'd think he's just off the shits insane, and yet the one (1) lore entry we get from his perspective indicates that he's actually a deeply cunning, intelligent, and proud Eliksni with a very strong (if twisted) sense of right and wrong and a deep disgust for the power structures that have brought his people to such lows. The face of Taniks that we see as the Young Wolf is that of a mindless, sadistic monster, but the one that we see when he's speaking to other Eliksni is a guy that I'd happily call comrade, would he not beat the everloving shit out of me for it. I love everything about the scraps we get of him in canon and I enjoy trying to fit those two sides of him together to get a nuanced individual who's still a guy that's basically an abused ex-circus chimp on ketamine while also giving little hints as to why he's Like That. Monsters are made, not born, and Taniks is not as much of a monster as we think he is.

What I don't like, like Misraaks, is writing his dialogue- albeit for different reasons. With Misraaks, what I worry about is getting his dialogue right, while for Taniks, it's getting the length of it correct. Like I said before, we only get one lore entry where we actually know what he's saying, so I don't actually know how talkative he is. So far, what I've been doing is having him monologue a lot when he's hyped up on something and near-silent when not, but I'm not quite sure if that's right. He spends way too long roaring unintelligibly at us in canon for me to know if he's actually chatty or just unimaginably furious at our existence

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

-Buddy I don't think there's enough fics out there for me to have gathered anything I might dislike from them. I'm just happy to find one where he's in it, and actually plays a real role in things. I guess the closest that I can say is that I dislike how much of a niche character he is, because he's genuinely so fucking interesting, but he tends to get relegated to just a meme character and nothing more

23. Favorite picture of this character?

-This one. I love how he looks like a lazereyes reaction image sjkhfdgbksjdhfg. He's so fucking done with our shit

okay, now time for Misraaks

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

-Honestly yeah, I probably could. Misraaks just seems like a really chill guy to live with though, and Eido is an absolute cutie who's just like me in that she's ravenously curious about everything. I do think we'd butt heads a bit about letting her participate in potentially-dangerous scenarios (mostly bc I grew up with an overprotective, paranoid father so I feel Eido so hard), but he's a respectful guy and I think he'd understand that I need a lot of alone time to not go insane. The culture sharing would be a blast and I think that he's like me in that he hates drama, so apart from debates over Eido and him being all ashamed of his sordid past (which I don't give a shit about), we'd be cool

The hardest part would be not jumping his bones. I don't know if I could be normal about that. As I said before, I'm an aro trans man who craves a form of contact that isn't socially acceptable or easy to find among humans, and Misraaks is a big sweet calm nonjudgemental alien dilf who probably thinks all humans look weird, trans or not. The temptation is obvious here

26. What's something the character has done you can't get over? Be it something funny, bad, good, serious, whatever?

-HIS OBSESSION WITH ASHER MIR. IT WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY DJHBDGH. That and his friendship with Saint and Osiris (old man gang go!) and his hatred for Eramis are all things that I absolutely love about him. He's just a big reverent nerd of a man who doesn't want to talk about his college age years and I love that about him so so much

Character ask game here

[flamingskull28]

__

Dear 4

I have noticed in our time as friends how much we differ from each other. You are energetic and bubbly and I am often reserved yet we complement each other so well.

While you are the comforting warmth of the sun, I am the cold drowsiness of the moon.

You are a hot scorching desert with no power, I am the fringed chills of the artic planes.

If you can defeat an army with pure brute strength and skill, I can take the out one at a time without a whisper being heard.

and if you, my dear 4, are a bright beacon who shines their light to all and spreads warmth and joy without discrimination then I am a lost soul in the dark, wanting only to be engulfed by your light.

Maybe you don't understand or maybe you do... but what I really mean by all this is a question. 4 will you go ou-

---

"Heya 8, you've been in here for hours. I'm getting worried." 4 said startling 8 and making the poor octoling fumble and stutter, not helped by how close 4 was. 8 quickly hide the paper behind her.

"I've- well.. I've uh j-just been writing. A-A poem, nothing s-special." 8 really hoped her face covering blush could be taken as from suprise.

"Oh, really!?" 4 said with a light in her eyes that made 8's hearts skip a beat. "Can I see, your work is always amazing." 4's smile was so genuine and curious that it took all of 8's power to resist.

"Uh it's a w-work in progress.. Once I-I'm done I'll show you." 8 really wished she'd have the courage, but the trash can next to her desk with a stack of discarded papers overflowing out of it didn't make that seem likely.

"Hmmm, aw fine. I guess I can wait.." 4 sighed but still kept her chripy mood "Anyway, you've been in here all day. I got a movie for us to watch!"

"I-I kinda wanna finish this-" 8 was cut off as 4 grabbed her hand instantly destroying any train of thought the poor lesbian had.

"Pleaseeeeeeee, it's so empty around the house when you're not out there with me. I wanna talk and watch a movie with you. I bought your favorite chips and drinks just so we could." 4's eyes were that of puppies in cuteness and sadness but like a knife in how they cut deep inside her more than the whole of the metro did. 8's hearts physically pained seeing 4 so upset, a small part of 8 felt honored that 4 enjoyed her presence so much but.... seeing 4's frown was a poison to 8's very soul that coursed further through her veins every second it existed.

"Don't feel like you have to... i-it's okay if you *sniff* don't wann-"

"NO! I-I do want to watch the movie! Please do not be upset, I haven't been getting anywhere with my poems anyway." 8 begged and pleaded in her head for 4 to smile again for her body may not be able to handle seeing the frown any longer.

"R-Really? I was starting to think I-I was annoying you with wanting to hang out all the time..." 4's frown vanished but her heavenly smile refused to grace 8 once more.

"No, 4 you never annoy me. Never! Now then what movie are we watching?" 8 smiled and she was instantly met with the wide tooth grin of 4. The poison in her veins vanished from this power and 8 felt at ease again. Even if her hearts were beating twice as fast and her face felt so hot, she would not be surprised if it melted off any second now.

"It's that Five days at franks... or whatever it was called movie! I've heard a lot about it being good! I really hope we-" 4 rambled for a moment, an all too often occurrence that entranced 8 the same it had the first hundred times, but she managed to find enough will power to grab her pencil and finish writing the poem.

Stuffing it in her back pocket, 8 walked over to 4 and gestured for them to go to the tv. 4 nodded and grabbed her hand, still rambling her theories while dragging 8 over. Unawake of the blush her action was causing.

regardless 8 quickly settled in, sitting next to 4 on the couch as close as she could manage without seeming to weird. She wanted to be close but she could settl-

As if reading 8's mind 4 grabbed her and pulled her close. Leaning on the octolings and cuddling up to her should while starting the movie. 8 felt her blush burn brighter, her gaze turned to the inkling who watched the screen intently. Making occasional comments but seeming content with snuggling up to 8. A smile joined the blush on 8's face and a thought her brain never considered arrived. Could 4 like her back?

8 considered what to do with this thought, maybe it was best to keep it to her-.... No this had gone on too long.

"Hey 4?" the inkling turned to look at her, still not moving her head from 8's arm "Do you want to see the poem I was working on?"

[coldhndss]

──★ ˙ ̟ Blue Lock matchup No.5 @mooncakes-and-peaches

Hello! This is my last current matchup. I’ll be writing more soon as I have 3 shorter bonus ones planned for the few people who sent in after the cut-off. I’ll be opening them up again soon once I find I have more free time! I also have some special types of matchups planned so stay tuned!

So anyways, some of the things you noted in your matchup felt really refined and sort of sophisticated, in a way? So, with that, I decided to match you to Reo Mikage!

I know you’re anime only, and so matching you to Reo might not make much sense now, but his personality really shines through in the manga, and I might write a bit over my intended limit trying to prove that to you, so hear me out!

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “I'm a huge homebody. I enjoy watching TV… drawing occasionally.. writing ideas and characters for stories…” 

“…and working out (my goal is to look fit and I’ve actually managed to get some muscle!) I like playing tennis, but I have to be in the mood and the weather has to be right.” 

If you’ve read most of my matchups so far, I’ve said this same thing a few times, but most of your description sort of gave me Reo vibes (if that makes sense). We know that canonically, Reo is/was studious in school, achieved high marks and always performed well in what he did/does. Despite this, I feel as though he’d definitely enjoy staying home after a long day of training (as anyone else probably would). Though, Reo would definitely motivate you to play more tennis; he’d probably see potential in your skills despite you having specific conditions to be in the mood to play right! He’d also bring you along when he has training at the gym, and the two of you would train together, and this way, the both of you can meet your fitness goals together. Though on those off days when the both of you aren’t in the right mood to go to the gym, you’d stay home, and binge watch a TV show together, sharing a bowl of popcorn and different types of chocolates that he picked up from a super-high-end chocolatier earlier that day. I feel like Reo, being the rich kid that he is, is probably used to super refined tastes, like 95%+ dark chocolate. I’m not sure whether you like dark chocolate or not (personally, I absolutely love it) but if you don’t he’d try to convince you to try it, and if you do, the two of you would eat the box of chocolates together.

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “I'll let things slide here and there, but I've never been a big risk-taker/have been rebellious. At the same time, and I know this is contradicting, I'm a very lazy individual, but recently I've been doing better doing what needs to be done and more.”

Seeing as Reo is kinda a textbook spoiled rich kid, he also carries a little bit of a ‘look at me, I’m following the rules’ kind of personality, but not necessarily in a bad way. Seeing as you’re someone who seems to avoid trouble, he may see you as a ‘refined’ individual and take interest in that. We know that Reo is a huge business and stocks nerd, (duh) his family says it all. So, I’d imagine that he’d constantly yap to you about those types of things, asking you if you’ve seen the stocks today, and always telling you and about the shifting economic state of whichever country is on his mind today. I may be wrong about this, but in the case that you do know about those types of things (I def do not) I can imagine the two of you talking about it for hours. In the case that you don’t really know much about business-y type things, you’d listen to him talk and talk about something he read in a book he bought earlier that day, only to end his yap session by saying: 

“Well, I don’t really care since I don’t want my dad’s company anyway. I’ve got Nagi, and together, our soccer will…”. Congratulations, yap session number 2 is about to begin! Although, you don’t really mind, because seeing Reo finally have something to call his own brings a special type of warmth to your heart. His newfound motivation towards wanting to be good at something that he grew from nothing himself definitely makes you feel like you can motivate yourself to build your own skill at things that you already enjoy doing. 

I’d imagine that Reo would obviously bring you to meet Nagi. He’d take you along to watch him practice one time and introduce you to his closest friends (literally only Nagi, maybe Chigiri? – but I won’t spoil anything for you). Seeing as you didn’t mention soccer as one of your interests he might suggest that the three of you play a sport together one day, and you’d suggest tennis. With Nagi being the talented freak he is, his general skill in almost anything he does may physically exhaust you, with you opting to watch him and Reo go against each other in a match while you keep the scores. That’s not to say that you’re bad at playing tennis, of course. Nagi is (was) known to make these types of underhanded comments at another person who isn’t up to his skill level (😭). 

―୨୧⋆ ˚  “I don't have an aesthetic, I just like to wear whatever is comfy and don't really stray from my regular stuff (another thing I need to work on).”

Given his riches, Reo would obviously have expensive taste. If I’m not wrong, he wears designer clothes and all that jazz. So, seeing as you also have a super self-improving orientated mindset, (in my opinion) he’d always motivate you to do new things and open your avenues up a little. That’s why I think he’d pamper you with new clothes, or randomly take you ‘shopping’ where in reality he takes you to get one of those colour analyses, where the person would help you figure out what colour ‘looks best’ on you. He’d pay extra attention to it and buy you things based on what the analyst says. Of course, he takes it with a grain of salt, and lets his personal opinion seep through when buying you gifts. As for you, you’d give him a little ‘fashion show’ where you try on the clothes he bought you so as to not disappoint him, even if they’re not really your style. In the end, you’d pick out a couple pieces that you ended up liking a lot and scold him for splurging (just because he has tons of money, doesn’t mean he should spend it all!). He’d also take note of the types of things you ended up keeping and use it as reference for his next shopping haul for you. From personal experience, he knows that money isn’t the only thing that can keep a person happy, so he definitely tries to not overwhelm you with all his gifts and stuff. Seeing you smile and be content is one of the most important things to him, and he’d be absolutely torn if he was the reason for you to feel any sort of sadness.

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hi, i just found your blog and i love your Legend of Korra fics, especially the hcs for a best friend reader x korra! Can i request something between a nonbender fem!reader who's actually best friends with korra and her loving gf Asami. Sometimes it seems that the reader and korra share a singular braincell lol, and she can be quite cheeky and stubborn, she loves to push korra's buttons and see what will happen next. So my idea was that the 3 girls were hanging out together, and then the reader starts teasing korra, maybe about something embarrassing that has happened to her or something, until korra has enough of her crap and tackles her down (or uses her bending or wtv) and tickles the sh!t out of her until she remembers not to destroy the Avatar's dignity right in front of her girlfriend smh.

I need my fluff don't mind me lol. Anyway, feel free to ignore this or not, but if you do write it, thank you so much in advance! you rock :)

Hello Anon! THIS IS SO FLIPPIN CUTE OMG. I'm lowkey getting sibling vibes between Korra and the reader AHHH. okay, another platonic!korra fanfic coming up!

Don’t Mess With The Avatar | Platonic!Korra x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: You were tired of shopping. Asami dragged Korra out to go shopping and Korra dragged you. She was not going shopping without you there for support. When you all lay on the couch watching trash, something told you to tease the Avatar. Rookie mistake. 

���┈➤ WARNING: A Bit Of Platonic Asami and Korra x Reader (if you squint), Reader Stirs Up Trouble, Cursing, No Use Of Y/N, Barely Proofread

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

It’s been a day of walking around Republic City, shopping, eating, and talking. Honestly, you were exhausted. The sun was shining down on you all day, your calves ached, and your shoes were starting to mend with the ground. 

You found yourself ecstatic when Asami finally declared it was time to go home. 

Now laying on the couch with your feet propped up on someone’s lap, (you didn’t care to find out who’s), you happily watched tv while munching on the leftovers you three bought earlier today. 

“No! Please Laohan,” the girl on the show begged. She clasped her hands together as she kneeled in front of the tall man. “I wanna be with you! I wanna stay with you!” the girl was dressed in dark green royal wear, in a castle that was decorated with the colors red and brown. 

Korra scoffed. “She should’ve thought of that before she cheated on him!”

“You should’ve thought of that before you cheated on me,” said Laohan, the man in red. He shook his leg to loosen the girl’s grip. He tried to walk away. She wailed and wailed until he was finally able to walk away without her. 

Korra gasped. “He just said what I said! See, I told you he and I are like two peas in a pod.”

“Or the script is terribly predictable,” Asami commented, looking over at her girlfriend with a sly and unamused look. Korra stuck her tongue out.

“Whatever. It just proves Laohan’s an awesome person just like me.”

You cackled, a little louder than intended. 

Korra deadpanned. “What? Am I not an awesome person?” “No, no, you’re a great person, Kor,” you snickered. 

“That’s not what I said though.” the Avatar positioned herself so that she faced you head on. “Loahan is an awesome person, just like me. We’re both cool, great leaders, and we have so much coolness that it translates well in stressful moments such as a lady begging for your love and forgiveness.” the girl gestured to the screen.

Loahan was now in a meeting, ignoring the girl who begged for his forgiveness again. 

“Mm, I’m not so sure about that second one, Korra,” you looked over at her. “I’ve seen you freak out over Asami just because she looked your way.” Asami chuckled as you go on. “This was before you even knew you liked her, by the way.”

The Avatar scoffed. “Okay, so?”

“Sooo, while she may not have been asking for your forgiveness or begging you to wed her, you were still a mess because she was sooooo pretty and it was soooo unfair that Mako had a pretty girlfriend like her and not you,” you smirked, watching the Avatar scramble around with a blush on her face. “Okay, but, that was one time.”

“Au Contarie. It was multiple times. One was when we were having dinner before you two got together, another was when she was riding a motorcycle and took her helmet off and her hair was flowing freely with the wind, and another time was whe--”

“OKAY!” Korra exclaimed. Her face matched the red on Asami’s jacket. “So, there were a couple of times where I freaked out over Asami’s beauty but, can you blame me?” She grabs the fire nation woman by the waist. “She’s pretty, smells nice, and makes some cool ass stuff.” 

Asami awed. She kissed Korra’s cheek and moved some of her hair from her face. “Thank you, Kor. That’s really sweet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You rolled your eyes. “but you’re still a bit of a wreck. Most definitely not as cool or nonchalant as Loahan.” you paused the tv show. You guys were talking too much. It was important to see every single scene in this show. Look away for one second and suddenly the show’s in a different time period with new characters who speak a different language.  “Okay, now I’m starting to think you just want to embarrass me.” Korra frowned. 

“Nope, just want to squash your ego a bit.”

“Hey now,” Asami started. “Let’s play nice. No need to get all feisty and mean.” 

“I’m not mean! I’m just reliving memories. Like, do you remember that time when we all went out for ice cream and Korra got that triple scoop? And then as we walked back to the car, she tripped over some rocks and then–”

Korra tackled you off the couch and onto the ground. She scrambled as you try to break away from her grip with a laugh. 

“Korra!! Let me go!”

“No! You talk too much and I’ve had enough of you exposing me in front of my girlfriend!!” 

You thought Korra tackling you to the ground was the only thing she was going to do to keep you quiet. Unfortunately, you were wrong. Her hands found their way to your sensitive sides and she started tickling the shit out of you.

You squirmed more and laughter escaped your lips; trying to escape out of her grip was impossible. Though her hands devilishly tickled your sides and messed with the skin, her hold on you was strong. 

It was torture. 

Her fingers skillfully danced across your skin. Her nails made the tickling even worse. She purposefully made sure to graze her fingernails over your stomach as you squirmed underneath her.

With tears in the corner of your eyes, you pleaded the Avatar for mercy.

“Please! Please,” you begged between laughter. “I’ll be good, I promise! I won’t say anything.”

Korra pinned your hands to your sides. Her eyes narrowed as she made eye contact. “You swear?”

You panted. Desperate, you shook your head yes. 

“Eh, I don’t believe you.” Her hands attacked your sides again.

“Korra!” Asami removed her hands from your side. She glared at her girlfriend who was pouting and laughing at the same time.

“Hey, I was having fun!” Korra whined.

“Oh, come on. They deserve mercy. They apologized!”

Asami was right. Your sides ached and tears of laughter slid down your face. Your face probably changed in color from how much you were laughing and the lack of breath you had. You turned onto your side to catch your breath.

Korra groaned. “Fine!” She ripped her hands away from Asami’s. “That better be the last time you try to expose me in front of my girlfriend, got it?” Korra jabbed a finger into your thigh.

You exhaled and waved a hand at her. “Swear. Never again.”

WC: 1,074

[spectrechosts]

If Anything Could Ever Be This Good Again - Chapter 3

Well well well, if it isn't the consequences of my actions.

Full Series

Megavolt sat in a holding cell, Azure watching her through the bars. Her gem couldn't be removed, which meant her powers couldn't be neutralized, which meant Azure had to babysit.

"These cuffs are a little tight." Megavolt said, tilting to the side to show her hands behind her back.

Azure said nothing.

"You know what, you're busy. Allow me."

She made a show of disassembling the cuffs, going so far as to unlink each segment of the chain between them and let them float in the air as she massaged her wrists before reassembling them, this time binding her hands in front of her.

"There, much better."

"Hey, cut that shit out!" The officer who had the misfortune of watching over the holding cells said, and Azure raised her hand to quiet him.

"Don't react. She's not going anywhere, let her play her stupid games."

"Aha! You talked, that means I win my stupid game!"

Azure once again said nothing.

"Anyway, if you want my advice? Zip ties. You can buy them at the dollar store, they're not made of metal. Then all you'd have to worry about is transporting me in any kind of vehicle, the cell itself, me being able to shoot lightning out of my hands, it'd just be a lot safer all around."

"Oh shit."

"I told you to ignore-"

"Not her, come look at this." The officer said, and unmuted the TV in the corner.

"-covered the source of the disturbance, a young woman now traveling on foot further into the city. Citizens are advised to evacuate the area, as we are measuring extreme temperatures exceeding -50 degrees as far as 200 meters from the individual. Under no circumstances should she be approached. The Shining Rangers have been contacted, but have yet to intercept for unknown reasons-"

"Not to uh, tell you your magical business or nothin', but shouldn't you all be dealing with that?"

"Yeah Azure," Said Megavolt, who had left her cell to get a better look at the TV. It was bad, you couldn't see Phoebe through the blizzard surrounding her, but you could see where she had been. The thermal stress warped and cracked her surroundings, and paramedics struggled to keep up with the slew of frostbite victims. "Shouldn't you do something about that?" She added, her innocent smile daring Azure to do anything about it.

Azure took a cigarette from her pocket, held it up to her lips and lit it with a puff of blue flame.

"Hey, you can't-"

Azure glared at the officer.

"…Nevermind."

"Leave us."

"Look lady, I know you're in charge of your magic thing, but-"

"Leave. Now."

"Alright, Jesus." He muttered, and left. "Buncha pissy super-broads telling me how to do my job."

He slammed the door behind him, and Azure huffed.

"I think we can both agree that this-" She jabbed her cigarette towards the TV. "-is a problem."

"Oh, definitely." Megavolt said, wide-eyed and nodding. "Something must be done. But what?"

"I can go get her, take her somewhere she can't hurt anyone."

"Mm, and while you're gone I can keep myself entertained with my new game, 'How fast can I put every gun in this building in its owner's mouth?' It's fun for the whole family."

Azure gritted her teeth. "Fine," She hissed. "I'll send some of the other rangers, they can-"

"You know, I get the feeling she doesn't want to see any of you."

"Goddammit, work with me here."

"I am working with you." Megavolt said, "You think this is bad? This is her walking around. She's probably not even aware she's doing this, the state she must be in. You want to give her a target to focus on, be my guest, but it'll get a lot worse if you do. And that's before I come in, because I promise you if a single Shining Ranger gets close to her I'm tearing this city apart by the foundations."

Azure pinched the bridge of her nose.

"And I presume you think you can fix this."

"This early in the process she's got no control over her powers, she gets upset and her gem goes apeshit." Megavolt said, shrugging. "You let me go, she'll calm down and it'll stop."

"So what, you're saying this is my fault?"

"Now's not the time to assign blame, all I'm saying is that before I was arrested there was a minor weather distortion you couldn't pinpoint the source of, and now there's a zone of frozen death moving through the city."

"You put her up to this-"

"I told her to rest and eat some soup. She's a big girl, she can make her own decisions. Are you going to swallow your pride and let me try to fix the problem, or are you going to whine about how terrible I am?"

Azure sighed.

"Why did I ever let you join my team?" She whined. "I dislike you greatly."

"Let it all out, I'm a captive audience."

Azure was slumped against the wall now, hands covering her face.

"You're such a fucking bitch."

"Mhm."

"Megavolt is a stupid name."

"Ouch."

"Terawatt, it was right there."

"Oh sure, let me just put my social security number in there too. You done?"

"…Yes. Go stop your stupid girlfriend."

"Gladly." Megavolt said, and did not move.

"What are you waiting for? Go."

"I'd love to. But uh," She jingled her handcuffs and clicked her tongue. "Need ya to uncuff me first, boss."

If looks could kill, Azure would have left her a smoldering crater.

~

Phoebe was cold.

She trudged along through ice and snow, teeth chattering. She had to get to the police station, had to find Tara, but she didn't know where she was and she couldn't see through the blizzard and her head hurt and she was tired and she was cold.

Delirium was setting in. She couldn't hear herself think over the howling wind, or the cacophony of car alarms that seemed to follow her. She didn't know what direction she was going, she just had to keep walking or she would never get Tara back.

"UNIDENTIFIED SUPERHUMAN. HALT AND DISPERSE THE STORM."

Police?

"IF YOU CONTINUE YOUR ADVANCE WE WILL OPEN FIRE."

Police. They had Tara. They had Tara and they were keeping her from her.

She was so cold.

"I REPEAT, STAND DOWN OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE. THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING."

They didn't deserve to have Tara.

They didn't deserve to be warm while she suffered.

She reached out and she made that warmth hers, absorbed it into the bottomless pit her heart had become. It soothed her aching body for mere seconds, before the heat drained away again and naught but bitter cold remained.

No further instructions came.

She still felt empty. She kept walking.

It didn't take long for her to come up on the remains of the blockade, a SWAT team perfectly preserved in icy tableau. She toppled an officer and his body shattered, chunks of red sliding away from the impact in a sea of white.

"Fuck," She thought, through the thick fog in her mind. "They could have told me where the police station is."

She approached another officer and pried a radio off him, taking a chunk of clothing and skin with it. With trembling fingers she pressed in the button on the side.

"H-Hello?"

Her voice was hoarse, and the winds nearly drowned her out.

"I… I don't know where I am. I need to get to the police station."

No response.

"You took my girlfriend, I-I need to come rescue her."

Nothing. She dropped the radio and it broke into pieces.

Goddammit she knew where they were holding her, she had been there, if she could just think, if she could just find something to orient herself by in this fucking whiteout.

"Phoebe?"

It was all just so fucking frustrating and the storm was getting worse and she was crying and the tears stung her face as they froze instantly and everything ached and she wanted to stop but she couldn't.

"Phoebe? Phoebe where are you?"

"T-Tara?" She croaked. "Tara!"

"Phoebe!" Tara yelled, and just about bowled Phoebe over with how fast she swooped out of the blinding snow and embraced her. "Oh Phoebe, oh thank god you're okay."

Phoebe just sank into Tara's arms, she was here and she was safe and she was warm.

"I had to come break you out of jail." She murmured into Tara's chest.

"You very much didn't, the idea was I get caught to keep you safe."

"I don't want to be safe, I want you."

"I can see that, babygirl." Tara looked at their surroundings, the blizzard letting up around them revealing the devastation she had wrought. "We need to get out of here, can I carry you?"

"Mhm."

"Okay. Time for us to take a vacation."

~

Tara opened the door of their motel room magnetically and tossed a take-out bag at Phoebe, who was sitting on the edge of the bed watching as footage from the fourth day of efforts to undo the damage she had done played on the TV.

"Did I really do all of that?"

"Yes, try not to dwell on it. I shouldn't have left you alone."

"I don't remember this at all." Phoebe said, unpacking her meal. "I remember you leaving, and I remember you getting caught, and then it's all a blur until we got here."

"Yeah, first few days are like that. Incredibly volatile and disoriented as you get used to being a conduit of evil."

"I don't feel especially evil. I mean, I want to destroy the Shining Rangers-"

"Obviously."

"-but I kinda feel like I've wanted to do that for a while? And now I'm just, okay with that being what I want."

"Some would say that's what makes us evil."

"I would say that magic gems are very stupid and I should have become a Kitten Crusader." She gestured at the screen. "What the fuck happened there?"

"Oh, that's where they sicced the swat team on you. I dunno what you did to them, but you did it to that entire zip code. They're still working on thawing out the ground so they can replace the water lines."

"I… Vaguely recall a swat team?"

"Do you recall chunking a guy? Because there's a guy who is chunks now."

"…..He was in my way?"

"I'm not complaining, how many girls can say their girlfriend chunked a guy for them?"

"Please stop talking about chunks while we eat."

"All I'm saying is that I understand that your horrifying force of nature rampage came from a very loving place, you don't have to beat yourself up over it."

"Oh, I'm not." Phoebe said, levitating the ice cubes out of her drink and melting them, reforming them into a sharp icicle that she then flung into a cardboard target. "This is sick, I'm going to kick some Shining Ranger ass when we get back."

"That's my girl."

[influenzalake]

'I love...' Damian Wayne x Reader (Reader Centric)

Reader is so tired of what people say about their babe, so they give their two cents 

femelle reader/ she her used, about 800 words, enjoy lovelies 

You're being "interviewed" by The Gotham Gazette. 

(They caught you by surprise out in public and your ride was a few, darn steps out of reach)

 Everybody wants the inside scoop of how you fell in love with Gotham's new young prince. There are many questions and rumors as to how Damian managed to get such a sweet thing as you. They flood your senses and any escape routes are blocked off. 

"Were you paid?" 

Cameras flash directly into your eyes.

"Were you forced?"

Microphones are shoved in your face.

     "Were you paid then forced? Blink now if you need help!"

The rumors turned into accusations and it was getting out of hand. It was very hurtful to Damian to see how the media thought of him and his family. Contrary to how the public may think, he does indeed have feelings. He would never think of all the horrible crimes that sprawl across newspapers, article titles, and televisions. He fights people who actually commit them every night! It all gets to his head and he pushes people away. In these moments he rarely makes eye contact with his beloved, thinking she is here not for his love but because she feels like she has no other options. It hurts him deeply. 

You thought it was finally time to set the record straight.

Damian sits down in front of the TV and, against his better judgement, he tuned in to the latest shows to see what people were saying about him. He knows it's probably not good for his health, but he can't help himself. It's just going to be more talk show nonsense to fill runtime anyway.

That is, until he sees her.

his... beloved?

Talking about their relationship!

His heart begins pounding like a drum in his ears. He can barely believe it. He thought he was doing a good job. He thought he was treating her well, giving her everything a woman could ask for. It stung and then it sank that she would go to the MEDIA about their personal lives. He was already sifting through the dark assumptions about what this report would entail...

Reporter 1: "So Ms. Wayne- Can I call you Ms. Wayne? Is it official yet? Anything you want to share with us?"

Y/N: "Not yet! Sorry to keep anyone in the deep end but you'll have to wait for an official announcement for that."

Reporter 1: "SHARP! I like you! Okay moving on, so- I'm sure you're already aware of the *ahem* opinions regarding your relationship. Do you mind telling us about that?"

Y/N: "Yes of course. I cannot speak on behalf of my partner, but it is very cruel what people are saying about him. I understand that not everybody gets to spend time with him the way I do, but I think the world would be a better place if we could all be more kind to each other-"

Reporter 1: "Great, great, but what do you actually SEE in him? Multiple reports have all correlated to him having a very   for lack of a better term   -strong- personality. Can you please, for the audience of course, tell us what attracted you to Damian?"

You dig deep into your history with Damian and let it flow naturally. You speak from the heart and let your true emotions shine. Any fault and the media would go notice and into a frenzy and you're here to clear up the misconceptions, not make them.

Some silence, then a deep breath. Your face rises the same way he is used to seeing every time he comes home. 

For a moment, seeing your face like that, his anxiety is *almost* gone. 

Y/N: "He impresses me everyday. I see the man who loves me, his family, and Gotham more than any other. He amazes me with his intellect and skill. He carries Wayne Industries into better and better times. He holds conferences for the improvement of his city. He educates and works for the community. Then he comes back from that to come to me, and I see a man. A man with his entire heart poured out. I love speaking to this man. He, of course, always says exactly what he thinks. I never had to worry about whether he truly loved me or not! How many men can you say that about these days? Some may think it's harsh, but I wouldn't want him any other way."

You dig a little bit deeper.

 "But most of all, he is not afraid of improvement. Damian, in my eyes, is a selfless man who works hard to be the best he can be. There is no other person I would rather have by my side."

And while every reporter, cameraman, and poor intern that was dragged into this is busy finding their jaws on the ground.    You make your escape.