#but even then its so fun to think about them...
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First off, I want to second the thing about tiktok. Unless it is literally your job to market for a company or something, that platform is so extremely blood-sucking. Beyond everything else about it, creators are forced to constantly post, constantly shift to do what's popular for attention in the algorithm, etc. An incredibly easy way to burn out and be down on yourself if you aren't keeping it up. Just don't do it.
But what I find to be very important to realize and applicable to a lot of artists is that, because of what they have seen or been told, they have started to prioritize numbers over what they originally went online for: sharing.
It is incredibly easy on social media to compare yourself to other people -and their numbers- which is what everyone always says you should never do. One of my own friends mentioned to me that they were disheartened when something of mine got attention because their stuff "doesn't do as well." It's not that I don't understand why they want engagement, it's that the comparison is damaging and pointless because there will always be someone with a more popular post, with art that more people seem to like, with stuff that more people will engage with. What you have to realize is that doesn't make them "better." Even if you're considered a popular artist, there may be times where you make something that doesn't get as much attention as before, in which case the person you're comparing yourself to is yourself, which is still the same principle:
"Comparison is the thief of joy."
Share your ideas and your art that you enjoy, and the people that like it will find it, and people will echo appreciation and ideas, and a group or community of like-minded individuals may start to form, and you can make new friends, and you can find ideas/inspiration/new media through those people and what they share, and the list goes on. If one amount of engagement is higher than another, that doesn't stop any of this from happening anywhere else. And this could just be like 5 people. It doesn't have to be 5000.
A quick aside about Tumblr. I've been on a number of social medias to share art, but over time I always end up finding it incredibly easy to just drift off of those platforms. They always go the same way: "post, get some likes/shares, post again." Tumblr has been the only one where I've found actual engagement easier, especially in the form of asks, which is much more fun. It's like the difference between "passing a friend and waving hello" and "passing a friend, but stopping to ask about that new game they just got, make an in-joke, suggest a movie to watch later, then do a silly handshake."
Now, I want you to consider this - you, the creative reading this that is constantly comparing themselves:
Imagine that there was no way to check the "numbers" on the engagement you get. You can still see interactions and respond and whatnot, but there's no way to quantify it. And now imagine that there's no way for you to check other people's numbers. You can never know if anyone else's stuff has gotten more attention than you.
Would you be content with the people that are there that want to engage with you? If there was no metric for comparison, would you be upset about the amount of attention you aren't getting? Would you be happier responding to the engagement you do get if you weren't wishing there was as much as someone else?
If you find that this applies, I have a trick for you. Just pretend like the numbers don't matter so you can be happier. Then, through the experience of it, you can come to realize that they really don't matter. And then you won't have to pretend. And then you can be happy.
also we fucked up as a society the moment we started telling teens and aspiring artists to conflate being an artist with building a brand as if the two things are inextricable. the name of the game if you want to share your art is to work a job and sell yourself as aesthetizied content. back in my day we could just POST SHIT. to deviantart! what the fuck!
#**okay so tumblr literally deleted ALL OF THE TEXT and i had to rewrite THE ENTIRE THING but fuck it idc i needed to say this **#**it took like almost an hour. i just dont want to have left out something i originally wrote so lets hope -.-**#justtalks#text#reblog#tumblr#long post#ive been going on a lot of rants lately. but its all been stuff that i realized i should put in an actual post bc there will always be-#someone that needs to hear it. i just hope it gets to them.#anyways. the aside about tumblr was something ive come to realize recently. especially about asks. even though it takes too much-#time for me to answer every single one i always see them and wish i had time to answer them all. basically my only new years-#resolution was doing more asks because its so fun to go through them and come up with answers to questions i hadnt even-#thought of or. or make a joke from it. or spin the ask into a new drawing idea. etc. its just such a fun way to engage beyond sharing-#some art/ideas and then dipping until i share the next thing.#wait okay but dont see this and think that i want inbox spam lol
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PLEASE MORE OF CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND KAISER 🙏🙏
childhood bestfriend!kaiser who, at age nine, manages to find a spare coin on the ground and decides, for the fun of it, to use it on a nearby capsule machine as he waits for you to finish up inside the convenience store. it contains mini capsules of what seems to be cheap jewelry, and though kaiser cannot be bothered to wear any himself, he decides for the fun of it to just give it a spin since the other machines don't seem worth his money.
he ends up with what looks like a cheap nickel ring with a plastic deep blue gem glued onto its little divot. it's... actually not bad for something so cheap, but it's still cheap enough to notice some flawed intricacies and some irregularities in its pattern surrounding the band of the ring. he attempts to try it on some of his fingers, but it refuses to budge past half of most of them.
you manage to finally finish up paying for your stuff at the register, meeting him outside where you find him squatting down in front of a couple of capsule machines arranging from some quick candy to disposable toys. he holds something shiny between his two fingers as he examines it closely, his concentration on the item making you giggle lightly. that's when he notices you and you ask him what he's holding as you shuffle up next to him.
"a ring," he states simply, letting you hold it between your fingers to let you analyze the toy. "i think it's a little small for me though."
you hum lightly before gently trying it on your left ring finger. to yours and kaiser's mild surprise, it fits quite snugly. "hey, look at that!"
you show off your hand to him, where the ocean blue gem glimmers along the silver band. kaiser stares at it for a minute, taking a liking to how well it goes together with your hand—like it's meant to be there.
he tucks his head away from you, the tips of his ears blushing a light pink. quietly, he mumbles, "... you can have it, then... if you want."
"really?!" you exclaim, clearly delighted. you grin widely, clenching and unclenching your fist when he nods shyly again in affirmation.
he watches you from the corner of his eye, witnessing you glimmer in admiration at the cheap ring, as if it was an actually well-crafted piece made with love and care and thought and not some mass-produced, cheap toy that would most likely break in a couple of days.
so it's surprising how long the little toy has lasted after all these years. there eventually came an age where it could no longer fit any of your fingers without it getting stuck, so you had opted for creating it into a necklace with a matching silver chain. when you had proudly showed off your creation to kaiser at age twelve, his lips purse in bashfulness fronted as confusion. he knew you had worn it for quite a while after he gave it to you, given how he always would steal a glance at your hand to see if you were still wearing it, but to see you go to a length to preserve such a small gift made kaiser feel like he was on top of the world.
you wore the simple necklace for a long time—essentially every day and never took it off unless you were showering or going to bed. even despite the strict "no jewelry" rule at your school, you always had tucked it inside your shirt in secret, feeling like you were carrying a piece of kaiser every where you went since you and him went to different schools (what institution he went to, you didn't know. every time you asked him what school to see if it sounded familiar, he'd just simply reply, "school.")
so when kaiser disappeared from your life for three years, after he had gotten arrested at thirteen for apparently robbing a store (you would shout at the others who rumored about the subject that he'd do no such thing), the piece of metal felt heavier around your neck at times. it felt sore at times, but you still insisted on wearing it every day in hopes that he'd still be somewhere nearby, waiting for you to hand him spare pieces of your dad's bread rolls behind his bakery.
you'd fiddle with it at times while waiting at his bus stop, while you waited on the swings at the nearby park, while you sat on the stairs of your father's bakery... just waiting in hopes of seeing a familiar blonde to hopefully appear before you. you don't know how much time you had wasted in the first year and a half attempting to continue a routine that you didn't know ended without your knowledge... just simply waiting and staring into the open distance while your fingers fiddled with the toy ring strung around your neck.
you stopped waiting for the figment of someone you used to know after the seventeenth month. winter was upon you now and you knew it was getting harder to withstand the chilled air as you waited, waited, and waited. as you swung lightly on the swings that you and kaiser used to eat too much candy with bought with your dad's spare cash, you eventually let the sugar dissolve on your tongue one last time before heading home as the snow began to fall.
you were eighteen, visiting home from the big city on a holiday weekend when you saw him for the first time in years. just shy of the end of your first semester at university, you saw a familiar head of blonde (with now blue tips) hair descending down to the shared tunnel of the subway, face just barely visible from the scarf he wore. you were on the opposite side and had just gotten off at the same platform, and the whiplash you had given yourself at the moment to double check if the person wrapped in a dark blue scarf was actually someone that had disappeared from your life years ago was truly there could've snapped your neck.
suitcase trailing behind you, you had forgotten all about your connecting train and swiftly trailed down the stairs in desperation to see a familiar face you yearned to see for the past few years. you probably looked like a psychopath, but you didn't care, not when you spotted the familiar choppy locks of white gold just a few meters away.
when you called out his name, you proved yourself right given how the figure in front of you freezes when you shout his last name.
kaiser remembers stiffening up at the sound of a melody all too familiar to him just before he transferred through the turnstile to the other station. he slowly turned around to see a face he had spent a good portion of the beginning of his life around, a face that unlike most people in his life, he didn't dread to see with a flow of contempt. but he still felt the apprehension fill his nerves, similar in the way that it did just before a big match.
and it felt nearly impossible to control such a feeling—especially when he spots the shrewd ring still hanging around your neck on a thin, silver chain, its dark plastic gem still glistening at him with a knowing wink in its glimmer.
a/n ; some more of childhood bestfriend!kaiser here, here, and here (yandere warning for the last one). comments and reblogs always noticed and endlessly appreciated :]
#blue lock#bllk#michael kaiser#kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x you#kaiser x you#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock fluff#bllk fluff#blue lock ; michael kaiser#mini-series ; cbf!kaiser
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We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | PT4
Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.
P1 P2 P3
Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Heavy Angst - Protective!In-ho - Panic!Reader - grammar mistakes -
"You must be joking" Were your first words after listening to Gi-hun's plan. "Do you even know how many guards are out there? Or how prepared they are?"
After another round of voting things had ended in a tie. Not much time after it a fight had occurred inside the men bathroom. Gi-hun had said how most likely the ones who voted circles would attack the X group during lights out.
And while it scared you to no end, specially for your dear baby, his plan was still something your mind could not get. If they had all the power to make so many peopel vanish and also kill them off like it was nothing...what chance did they had against them?
In-ho who knew very well how much that plan would fail (even if he was not inside the games) was only worried over you.
Since the talk during the last game he had got protective. He was by your side, making you be behind him and having a protective grio on your arm or hand.
The rest did notice but no one commented a thing, besides it would only make the athmosphere uncomfortable.
Jun-hee was the only one who had asked you during one go to the restroom. She was not judging, her own baby's father was here after all. She was just curious on what was the story of you two. Why you two seemed to be so apart at the start and now were close.
"Its almost a story you would read on a book" Jun-hee said as you cleaned your hands and laughted.
"Barely, it all started as a one night thing. Then I was so stupid that I forgot the pill. We did not see each other for months and now...we are here"
"But he cares. He cares so much. Really I can see it on how he looks at you!! Even before the migle game"
"Yeah...I do care for him too. I want us to get out and try to live together or be a real couple..."
"Well, we may be able to leave but the plan of Seong..."
"Its crazy. We wont make it. I- I cant even help them"
"I cant either, only thing I can do its hide once the lights go off" Jun-hee tried to make you feel better. "Its better like that, we need to think not only for ourselfs but our babys"
"You are right, but Jun-ho wants to help..."
"You are worried for him" She indicated "Thats cute"
"And a pain, I wish he would have said no to that plan"
"Maybe he is thinking in you and the baby. Maybe he wants to leave really badly and sees no other way out"
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
Once you two returned the place seemed to be under lots of pressure. There was a tension, how some circles would look at Xs and back. It was unnerving and maybe even worse than the games themselfs.
"Can we talk?" In-ho came towards you "Alone" He added seeing Jun-hee besides you who nodded and went with the rest of the group.
In-ho moved so you two were away from everybody.
"Its this about Gi-hun's plan?" You asked and he nodded.
"Yes, it is. You should hide when the lights go off and not participate when we go for the guns" In-ho said in a serious tone. Even if the guards would never (if they liked their lives) put a hand on you unless he said so, the rest of the players were out of his control.
"I know, I cant do much anyways" You responded touching your belly "Why did you end saying yes ? We could win tomorrow ...."
In-ho took a deep breath. The reason were multiple ones. On one part this would be a good chance to get himself and you out from the games. If he did things right. And on other part he did not want to risk on tomorrow voting. Even if during the night Xs fought and lived nothing did for centrain said they would not vote circle next day.
"I believe in him" He lied "I understand its a dangerous move on our part, but I dont trust the others, not for tonight and not for tomorrow's voting"
You wanted to tell him to back off from it. You did not want to lose him in case the plan went wrong. But his next words shattered you.
"And I want you two out of here. Another game would cause you much stress, its not good for you our the baby...the little one has been strong so far but there is nothing like being safe and out of here"
When he said "little one" there was a small soft smile on his face, you could see how his hands wanted to reach and caress your belly once more but he held himself back.
"Hide well, I mean it. I dont trust any of them"
"I will, please dont worry about me"
Impossible. You and that baby are the most precious things to me right now.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
In-ho insisted on staying besides you when the lights went off. Just in case.
He had one hand wrapped around your waist and had pushed your head into his chest. He told you to close your eyes and ignore all of it, that if someone even dared to come near the bed where you two were hide then he would kill them. Of course he did not use these exact words in order not to scare you.
The screams of pain were terrible to hear, In-ho tried to shh you and tell you that it would soon end while also keeping a watchful eye.
Finally it was time, he kissed your cheeck on impulse and told you to not intervene. He went out just as the guards started to get inside the room.
You saw one coming towards him, but before it could even check the infamous chip inside his neck (as Gi-hun had explained earlier) he took them with force and in a clean move ended their life while also taking their gun.
The next was a small exchange of bullets and screams, the guards were finally leaving but one was left behind. Even if you saw them as nothing as monsters...their seemed scared.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
"Stay here, no matter what you hear. Stay here with Jun-hee. It will be safe" He assured you, like he knew more than what he was letting out.
"But what if you- what if something happens to you?" You asked him with tears already falling, not knowing that he would be safe.
It broke his heart to see you like that. So worried over him when there was nothing to be worried about. But he could not tell you, not here.
"Shh, I will be fine. I promise you" After a small pause he added "I promise both of you" His hand resting on your belly.
"In-ho, its time" Gi-hun said softly when he saw the exchange, part of him felt bad for interrumping the sweet moment. And was feeling guilty already, he knew he could not let In-ho die.
"Yes, on it"
"I love you, both of you" In-ho softly said finally leaving.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
The gunshots would be hear from the room, you flinched everytime, worried that one of these was mean for In-ho.
"Breath (Y/N)" Jun-hee reminded you when she saw you starting to panic. "They will be alright"
"Jun-hee...dont tell me things you can guarnate" You whispered hugging her and she just held you there. It was true, she could not be sure if they would make it.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
In his mind this part was supposed to be easy, trick Gi-hun into thinking that he and the rest had died. But it would mean making you believe that he was dead as well.
He pressed his lips on a thin line, worried over you and the baby. His little one. The only good thing was that he would be able to pull you out from the games but-
But you would have to believe that he was indeed dead.
"Take player 344 from the room, bring her to my room and call the Doctor too. Do not harm her" He ordered to one of his most trusted square guards.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
Once more the guards entered, pulling everybody to their knees and demanding them to be under control.
You started to tremble not because of the imposed figure of a saqueare guard over you, saying something about you having to go back with them. Your mind was working on In-ho..was he? Was he really?
Jun-hee despite the protest of player 333 went towards you and the guard to try and keep you there saying how you had nothing to do with the attack. But the guard only pointed their gun to her, that broke your somehow dazed state.
"I will go, just let her be"
"No (Y/N)!" Jun-hee tried to go towards you but was held back by Player 333.
"Dont worry Jun-hee" You said giving her a sad smile.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
You had no idea where you were being taken. The guard did not say a word but also kept a slow peace like he was taking care over you.
You two made it a elevator, all black inside. The guard urged you inside and pushed some buttons till it started to move.
The doors opened revealing a dark corridor the guard guided you towards a big black door, he opened it revealing a big screen now turned off and a black couch. But there was another guard, however this was only had his face covered by the black fabric only his eyes were seen.
You took note of a few medical tools and you started to get nervous.
"Stay calm, I was told to check on your health and your baby, please sit here. We can move you to the bed to examine your baby"
Now you were confused, why check your health? What about Jun-hee?
"But there is another woman who-"
"I was only told to check on you. Please" He said tone incredible soft.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
After the examination the Guard (who told you he was a doctor) said that the baby was healthy, but that you needed rest and more food.
Both guards went to leave, but you stopped them.
"W-wait, im not going back?" You asked confused.
"Player 344, you have been eliminated from the games" Was the only response you got and were left alone in the dark room.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
"Sir, player 344 has been examinated and left in your room" The guard said to their Boss who just nodded back.
"I will be there soon"
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
Hours passed, you were scared. You stayied on the bed, too tired to move, this bed was too confortable too, and after listening to the Doctor's words you imagined this was good for your baby.
Even if you still felt bad.
You had been crying for the last hours, not beliving that In-ho could be dead, no in fact part of you refused to believe it.
And Jun-hee your friend...the one who was in the same desesperated situation as you. You could not believe she was still there...
Outside the door stood In-ho in his Front Man clothes, he was scared of your reaction, would he tell you it was him ? What was he supposed to do ?
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
The doors opened making a sound, you had fallend asleep after crying. One hand on your belly like you were protecting it even in your sleep.
In-ho felt his heart go down and up, the sight was...beautiful in a strange way. Why could things dont be easier? You could wait for him like this everyday, the three of you could live together and he would be such a good father.
His gloved hand went to touch your face, slowly tracing your cheeck. Your tears broke his heart.
Your eyes started to move, and he pushed himself away. Not wanting to scare you.
Once you finally woke up you saw a dark figured, a black mask, you moved away against the wall.
"W-who are you?" You tone was evident, you were scared and confused.
"Im the Front Man, player 344 you have been eliminated from the games and will be sent back"
"What? Wait, does this mean I-"
In-ho held up his hand dont wanting you to continue, things were already too difficult for him.
"Your situation was analyzed and so decided that you wont continue"
"But- there is another woman! Jun-hee, player 222, she needs to be out as well" You exclaimed getting up and going closer to him.
"Player 222 will continue in the games. Thats final"
"B-but why?"
"Should you not be happy for you and your baby?"
"Im, but im not a hearthless person, if I can get out because of my situation then she can too"
In-ho took a deep breath, he could not believe how even now you were thinking in others.
But he that was part of your charm as well...
"Its a final decision, besides you are soon to give birth. That was what the Doctor said, we cant let that happen in here"
Without thinking his gloved hand went to your belly, one more time, he needed to feel it just one more time-
"Dont touch me" You said in grith theeth taking his hand and pushing it away. In all honestly I hurted him more than any pain he had endured before.
"You are a monster, you- You keep the games going and let others die. You are nothing but a piece of shit"
In-ho knew you were nervous, scared, angry and much more. But your words cut deep, his soul breaking.
"You will be send back home soon. I recommend you dont try to talk about this to others. Nothing good will come from it" These were going to be his last words for you when he turned back.
"W-wait, player 001, In-ho...is he"
"Player 001 has been eliminated" Were his final words, he did not turn when he hear your cry, knowing he would not resist going back and comfort you.
No, instead he went away. Blocking your cries. Outside a guard stood still waiting for orders.
"Check on her, make sure she does not hurt herself and that she eats her food tonight. All of it"
A bittersweet goodbye
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
Final note: An epilogue will be out !! 💜
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Tags:
@maria-trisha @blueyesuguru @imenekiki @victorie767 @futuristicdefendorfart @heyitsmefall
@love-you-louise @fantasylovestoryme @sleepyycatt @nightdark-dreamdark @lindsay00000 @ourlovesarang @smally97 @zigmasstuff @aleemendoz @the-disaster-in-waiting
@ilovequeen978 @sc4rrc @sylviavf @l4venderia @blueeclipsepaperstudent @annasnape7 @llawlietluv @florgenegrastuff @luv1ze @jspidey5
@moonoteru @saaraahnger @hope4rain19 @soniiyi @angelmoneter @skywalker0809 @ashsallyblue2 @realrintaro @bellstwd @tojisrealwifey @otterluver05 @yuan1819 @spanish-delulu-23 @lisaannwalterlover @yodayyy @tenzko @tinylawyerbluebird @istanstraykidss
I could not tag some of you 😔
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Who's most likely to force reader to sleep with someone for money. Basically forcing her into prostitution.
Hwang inho
Thanos
Nam gyu
Myung gyi
Player 388
Player 246
_🎀
A/N: omg??I LOVE REQUESTS LIKE THIS I make them quickly n I have fun nyehehhehe.
contains: thanos, namgyu, inho, gyeongseok, daeho
Thanos
I see him doing this the most, does not gaf about what happens to you, doesn't even try guilt tripping you into saying yes he just tells you the two of you need more money and that you're going to sleep with guys for it one random night. you cry and plead for him to not do it for actual hours but he ignores you and basically turns into your pimp and keeps all the money you make from then on. "its for us baaabee" is all he tells you when you express concerns about what he's spending all the money on...and of course you believe your sweet boyfriend.. when your landlord personally came to your apartment door and told the two of you that you were late 4 months of rent you exploded. this was the first time you stood up for yourself, yelling at Thanos and asking why he even needed the money if it wasn't for 'us'. Thanos just found this amusing and funny. he paid the late rent and forced you to keep selling yourself off. more than before. now you're just stuck in this loop of sex work with no way out..you knew Thanos would kill you if you left..
2. Namgyu
he's similar to Thanos, but less aggressive about it and manipulates you more into it. uses your financial position as a reason to start doing it. (that he's the reason you're in) will try to sway you into it as well, "just for a weeekk you're debt will be covered and you could live the normal live you've always wanted babbyy." he'll say all this while he's hugging your back and whispering it into your ear. if that doesn't work he'll start using his position to convince you. "we need the money babe!! I'm broke, I can barely afford food. if you start doing this we'll have enough for my debts and food...don't you want me to be happy?" he'll beg and beg for weeks until you finally give in. once you do he basically does what Thanos does but only give you a small portion of the money telling you "its all we made" when it clearly wasn't.. but you believed him, your boyfriend wouldn't force you into this just so he could take the money for himself!! doesn't even use if for his debt or said food he was so lacking of. he just buys drugs and nice things, ingoring the fact he has a group of men going for his neck.. he doesn't let you stop once you say your week is over, he forced you to keep going and if you quit he'll leak all the videos he took to everyone you knew.... so you really had no choice but to keep doing this until he thinks he's had enough money.
3. Inho
i don't see him forcing you into sex work in person, but I see him forcing you to sell your nudes and sex clips online just for the fun of it. he obviously doesn't need the money to take care of you or himself he just finds it amusing how uncomfortable and upset you get from it. will take tons of photos and videos of you on his cock while you beg him to stop and that it makes you uncomfortable. he loves seeing you in pain, it turns him on like crazy. will force you to read all the comments and messages you get from your little twitter account, he doesn't understand why you're so upset!! random guys on the internet think you're hot and would fuck you any day of the week just like him. what's the problem with that? will buy you a ton of tiny lingerie and toys and lock you into a room for hours until you make a certain amount of content for your 'fans'. doesn't like to admit it but he jerks off to your photos almost every night
4. Gyeong seok
he wouldn't do it unless he REALLY needs it..like now. he wouldn't be like namgyu or thanos that takes all the money just for nice things but uses it so he can put food on the table and pay his daughters medical bills. will 100% manipulate you into it, but it'd be really subtle. "you know how nayeon is really sick right...she really needs the money.. i- im sorry for asking but would you ever like..sleep with a man for money.." acts like he'd accept no as an answer but really wouldn't, he knows this money is valuable and will do anything to have you say yes. "nayeon would be really happy if she could finally treat her cancer" "nayeon's been really hungry these days" uses his daughter as more reason why you should say yes. you're his girlfriend and you love nayeon, right? you should do this small favor for her... you end up saying yes only after a few weeks and gyeong seok doesn't make it a secret that he wants to take all the money so he can put food on the table and pay the important stuff for his and his daughters needs. he thought you'd fight back but you just accepted it, you wanted to help your boyfriend and maybe by doing this he'd finally marry you once he gets back on his feet like he tells you.. he doesn't really know how to feel about you sleeping with other men but he knows he's the reason for it so he cant complain.. 100% fucks you again when you get home so you remember who you actually belong to. it makes you feel better about everything that's happening.. wont force you to keep selling yourself off once he pays off everything he needs, will just try his best to provide for both and nayeon like he should be doing.
5. daeho
he doesnt, I KNOW! IM SORRY! I KNOW BORING, THROW TOMATOES ALL U WANT!! I just don't see him doing this like AT ALL. would rather work 6 jobs at the same time than ever force you into something like this.
A/N: I feel like this highkey sucks but oh well. noeul fic is prolly dropping today or tmr doe YAY #writersblock
TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf
#ᡣ𐭩 saymio#squid game#squid game x reader#fanfic#x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game 2#dead dove fic#squid game smut#squid game x y/n#in ho x reader#inho x reader#hwang inho#hwang in ho#the front man x reader#the front man#dae ho squid game#kang dae ho x reader#dae ho x reader#daeho x reader#kang dae ho#thanos squid game#squid game thanos#thanos x reader#player 230#nam gyu#nam gyu squid game#nam gyu x reader#namgyu x reader#park gyeong seok
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I think what makes it parricularly angsty particularly when youre young, is that you dont always know who you are, or who you want to be, or how to get there.
Part 1. Pay attention to what you like. Notice whrn something makes you happy or excited or determined v anxious, unhappy, bored, antsy. Now do more of the things that you enjoy. This can include hard things you want to improve at, thags why I included determined. Mastery of skills isnt easy breezy kind of fun but it is very important positive feelings.
2. Who you want to ve and how to get there. Think about your values. Whats important to you. Do you act like thats whats important to you? What would that look like? Forget social norms a minute and picture it. Maybe it means standing up for people being bullied. Maybe it means standing up for yourself and being honest qbout what you like and owning it. Yeah I watch anime, can I introduce to some? Ok thats chill, your loss, im gonna keep doing me. Maybe it means looking after siblings while everyone else is hanging out, naybe it means making time for friends even though youre swamped with work. Who do you admire and what do you admire about them? What chpices do they make that gets them there? What do they do tbat you dont want to emulate? Pick and choose what works for you, dont try become exactly some other person. Mayne theyre super dedicated to exercise and train on weekends ans you wanna do that, but theyre also kinda rude and you dont wanna talk that way.
Tldr You get to build yourself, and listen to yourself, and thats pretty much how to be confident: like yourself so much that your self love is stronger than anyobe elses disapproval. Like yourself by doing things you enjiy and working towards living in line with your goals and values. Make decisions so that you'll be proud of yourself.
Take advice ofc and feedback, but always run it back through "does this feel right to me? Does it make sense to me? Do I want to be the type of person who does this?". Doesnt matter if its drugs or going for a run at 5am or signing up to a class or volunteering to pick up garbage or going on holiday overseas or hang gliding super high up. Do you want to be a person who does that? Does it seem like a good idea? Would you feel proud of yourself after?
(You also dont have to tell other people, it can be private; I dont really believe in guilty pleasures. If Im prous of myself and I know some ppl will makw fun of me, I just dont tell them. Not bc im embarassed but bc I dont feel like being harassed. You get the difference?)
It’s crazy and fucked up that being yourself is actually the solution.
#tired ramblings yet gopwfully true ramblings nevertheless#i do this especally when im tired and im done feeling embarqssed about it#i dont think wanting to help people is a bad instinct#even if i get really rambly qbout it when no one asked me.#its just who i am for whatever reason qnd as chqracter traits go its not a bad one#as long a si stay in my land and dont tell otger pwople wgat they must do#im suggwsting. saying what worms for me#worms!#clunsy spwllibg#okokoo im going geez#comment
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Neighbour w/ song mingi
words - 3.1k
genre - smutty
warnings - fem!reader, afab!reader, neighbour!mingi, mysterious!mingi, drop-out!reader, bitter!reader, wet dreams, masturbation, nicknames (kitty, good girl), i think that’s it
——————————————————————————
Coming home from a night shift is never fun, but its even less so in winter. As if the bone-deep tiredness wasn't already bad enough, now you have to compete with the inescapable chill of the air and the long, dark mornings that seem to drag on for eternity. It feels like months since you’ve actually seen an ounce of sunlight, sleeping through the few short hours that you’re granted around this time of year. Then you wake up again at 4pm, just in time to watch the sun go down beyond the horizon as you cook your breakfast of packet ramen and coffee.
Its a depressing existence, and you’d be the first to admit that, but you cant really afford much else. As a drop-out in a city full of students, you don't really have too many options. Full time jobs favour people with actual qualifications, and the part-time job market is wildly oversaturated by struggling teenagers looking for a way to fuel the various addictions that come hand in hand with being at university. You remember it well; the £16 bottles of Tesco’s own brand vodka that went down about as easy as a fist full of gravel, the weed from a random dealer who passed you his number at 3am while you were sitting drunk on a park bench. Its an expensive life to live, and you don’t blame them for snatching up every single decent part time job your city has to offer.
Not really, anyway. Theres certainly a little resentment there whenever a drunken customer cusses you out for refusing to serve them. Perhaps a little hatred when you’re sent in to handle yet another bar fight between two men twice your size. Definitely a lot of frustration whenever you feel the amused eyes of your neighbour as he watches you sleepily fumble with your keys whenever you return home in the morning. You’ve yet to learn his name since he moved in, and part of you doesn't want to. From the few run-ins youve had with him, you can already say that no amount of resentment or hatred or frustration you feel towards your working situation compares to what you feel for him.
That stupid bleached hair that he lets grow into something akin to a shitty mullet before cropping it short again, that brash voice that you can hear through the thin walls of your apartment as he yells at whatever sport is playing on his tv, those strangely soft eyes that watch you with so much amusement as you stumble around your shared corridor. He gets home about the same time as you after his morning run, and you hate it. You hate him. Cocky, irritating, handsome bastard.
“Someone pissed in your cereal, Kitty?” he pulls you from your thoughts with a quick quip. His shoulder is leaning against the wall on your side of the corridor, almost as if he was waiting for you to arrive home or something. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was; he seems the type to imagine camaraderie where there certainly isn't any. Perhaps he sees you as a friend, despite never having asked you for your name, or your age, or where you work, or anything else about you, for that matter. Maybe he’s lonely.
“I don’t eat cereal,” you scoff as you brush past him to get to your front door. He twists his body to watch you amble past him, your keys already poised in hand, “why would i want to eat cold mush every morning? Its gross.”
He chuckles brightly as if you’ve just told the joke of the century, and you weren’t just complaining about the concept of the nation’s favourite breakfast food. The judgemental glare you shoot in his direction happens just as easy as his laughter.
“It's a metaphor, Kitty,” God, you fucking hate that nickname, “surely work can’t have fried your brain that much.”
He wears a smirk that stretches from ear to ear, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he stares you down. Part of you wishes you could sock him right in his pretty little face, but a smarter part of you knows that the muscles that decorate his body arent just for show. He's like a dog in that sense; no matter how cute and unassuming he makes himself out to be, there's always going to be a part of you that understands what hes capable of. Dogs were once wolves, after all.
Your gaze cant help but flicker to a scar on his cheekbone, and then up to the newer one that sits on his left hand eyebrow. They’re not the type that you get from playing a little too rough as a kid, nor the type thats left over from surgery. They’re purposeful and dangerous and it makes you wonder just what he did to deserve them.
“My brain is fine,” you make a point of looking away from the scar above his eye, no longer wanting to dwell on what might of caused it, “not that the state of it is any of your concern.”
He laughs again, his smile cracking his face in two as your annoyance only grows. How is it that he can make you feel so… undermined? With such ease too! Its like every toothy grin is an act of condescension, every comment crawling beneath your skin like beetles. You’ve met plenty of arseholes in your life, and yet theres been no one who angers you quite as much as him.
“I’m just being neighbourly, Kitty–”
“That’s not my name,” you growl out, a thick layer of impatience coating your words.
“Yes, but it suits you,” he says with a shrug, “far better than the one written on the front of your mail, don’t you think?” What business did this man have looking at your mail? You’ve never once paid attention to his, nevermind going as far as to read the name that sits just above the address. You regret it now as you watch the playing field become even more uneven than it already was. Its you against him; the older, stronger, cockier man that knows more about you than you do him. Logic says that this is a game; one that you've already lost.
He says your name, humming it lowly to himself as if its an equation he’s trying to figure out. It sounds good, coming from his mouth, his accented drawl pulling at the letters in a way you’ve never heard before. The vowels get extended and the consonants ring out clear like a bell. It feels like the first time hearing your name, and whilst that might not necessarily be true, it certainly is the first time you’ve liked it. Its the first time its ever felt correct.
You could kick yourself for even thinking something so… pathetic.
“It might not suit me, but it is my name,” you insist as you try to ignore the desperate pitter patter in your chest. Its not a sensation you’re familiar with, especially not when it comes to him. You can only blame it on the romantic dry spell you’ve been facing as of late. Turns out the night shift isn't exactly conducive to meeting new people.
“Sure it is, Kitty,” you grind your teeth against one another, “but what's a nickname between friends, hm?” his teeth glint in the flickering overhead light, flashes of luminance against his pearly white canines. If he truly were a dog, you’d already be running, the look in his eyes telling you exactly whats going to happen if you entertain him for much longer. Like a rodent stuck in the maw of its predator, you can already feel your fate closing in on you. If you don't leave now, you fear he wont ever let you go.
You slip your key into your lock and twist it.
“We’re not friends,” is all you say as you bump your shoulder into the wood to pry it open, quickly slipping inside before locking it behind you.
Theres a chuckle, and a single soft tap against the door.
“We’ll see about that, Kitty.”
——————————————————————————
You sleep strangely.
Despite your mind wandering and your heart rate shifting between erratic and arrhythmic, it doesnt take you long to slip into a dreamland once your head is actually resting on the soft fluff of your pillow. Darkness washes over you like waves lapping at the shore, pulling you further and further into the deep until you’re stuck within the murky abyss of your mind. Fish swim past in the form of dream fragments, very few of them making sense.
Your neighbour grins down at you with a softened gaze, hands flitting around your face as if he cant quite help himself but touch. You feel it so clearly; a finger tip gracing the end of your nose, a warm palm cupping your cheek, minty breaths tickling your skin so perfectly. It feels so natural, which is strange given your regular distaste for the man. And as he pulls his hand away, you can’t help but to chase it. You lean in close; so close that you can almost taste his musk on the tip of your tongue. It feels so real, and while every rational part of you thanks the heavens that it isn't, there's still a tiny voice in the back of your head praying that one day it will be.
And the worst part is, your sleep addled mind doesn’t even try and shut that voice it. It seems to nod along, letting your mind wander further and further until the dreams shifts to you lay on a bed. It’s not your bed, so you conclude that it’s his. You’ve never seen it before, but your mind seems to have conjured up something that works. Dark walls, dark bedsheets, dark furniture, all illuminated by the glow of his laptop which loops an animated screensaver of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn.
Heavy hands paw at your flesh, pushing and pulling at you like you’re a ragdoll. They’re careful, yet firm, putting you in position without pushing too far, or tugging too hard. Its like he’s done this a million times before, and you’d believe it if he had! Everything from his smirk, to the unfounded confidence lets you know that he’s good at this; good at catching women in his trap and fucking them until they belong to him, mind, body, and soul.
And you can deny it if you want, but something tells you that perhaps he has you on a tighter leash than you care admit. Perhaps he already owns your soul, and judging by the way his tongue presses upon your clit in your dream, it’s clear that he already owns your mind. All that’s left for him to take is your body, and would it really be so bad if you gave that to him as well.
If you were awake, you’d be hating yourself for having these thoughts, but you’re not, so you indulge. Your hands fly to his hair and tug on his silky strands like they’re the only things keeping you anchored to earth right now. It’s all too much; far more than you’ve ever felt in a dream before, and before you know it, you’re coming undone. Your heart is hammering, and your eyes are flying open and your own fingers are being drenched in your cum as they stimulate the motion of your neighbours tongue on your clit.
Fuck, you really must’ve been horny if you had to resort to sleep-wanking.
Disgust fills you from top to bottom as you sober up and let sanity rain down on you once more. Your fingers are sticky, but not quite as much as your thighs. Your underwear is seemingly nowhere to be seen, although you don’t doubt that it’s had the same treatment. You feel a mess, both physically and mentally. Seriously! Thirsting over a man you’ve dedicated your last few months to hating? It all feels too surreal to think about.
Yet think about it is all you can do. As you crawl out of bed, you can still feel his breath on your skin, and as you strip with wet sheets and shove them into the wash, you can still practically smell him. The steam that surrounds you in the shower makes your head spin, and its almost like you can’t stop yourself when for the second time that night—although the first time in whisky awake—your fingers find their way dancing over you clit to the thought of him consuming you.
You cum twice, maybe three times before the water turns cold and you’re left shivering and ashamed of yourself. This time it’s worse than when you first woke up, though. You’re conscious, and you willed those images to come into your head. No longer can you give your brain the benefit of the doubt because this time, this is exactly what you wanted, not just some crazy, nightmarish concept you’ve dreamt up.
“Fucking hell~” you growl to yourself as you switch off the water and lean your head against the cold tile. Your fingers are pruned, and you can’t tell whether it’s from the shower or the constant abuse of your poor clit. Either way, it’s a clear signal that you need to get a grip; get out of the bathroom and remove any thought of that man from your brain. These thoughts aren’t normal, you tell yourself as you wrap a fuzzy towel around your body; you don’t even know the man’s name for heaven's sake!
You make a mental note to check his mail the next time you leave the flat. By the end of the day, you want to know as much about this man as possible. If he’s going to take over your every thought, waking or otherwise, then you at least deserve to know the name of the man that’s ruining your life.
But speak of the devil, and he shall appear, right?
There’s a knock on your door; three short taps that almost go unnoticed by you. “Shit—coming!” You yell out as you hurriedly slide some pyjama bottoms over your thighs and a loose hoodie over your head. The towel on your hair remains in place, keeping your wet locks contained and out of your face. It makes you feel a little silly, as you make your way over to the door and crack it open to reveal your neighbour, but then you remember that you’ve painted him as a slut, and so a woman with a towel wrapped around her head probably isn’t too unusual of a sight.
“Kitty,” he says with a sly grin the moment the two of you come face to face. What would happen if you just slammed the door in his face, you wonder? Would it wipe that look off of his face? You doubt it; a man like that is only spurred on by rejection. They’re too full of themselves to understand that not everyone in the world wants to get in his pants.
Fragments of your dream flash through your mind.
Maybe you do want to get in his pants…
“What do you want?” You try and push the thoughts of his tongue on you away as you speak, but you can’t push away the warmth that pools in your stomach as he looks you up and down. His gaze is so brazen as it studies your form, taking extra time to travel over your curves. They’re well hidden by the oversized clothing you don, but with the way he studies you, you almost feel naked.
“Oh, nothing much,” he takes his time in returning his gaze to your face, letting his eyes linger on your chest for a moment or two. You’re almost tempted to cross your arms and cover yourself, but there’s some sick part of your brain that’s enjoying the way he looks at you. It’s the same part that conjured up those dreams, and make you play with yourself in the shower; the same part that’s trying to convince you that lusting this hard over a man you’re supposed to hate is entirely logical. You hate that part of yourself, and yet you don’t dare fight it as it takes control. “I made too much food; I wanted to know if you’d like to come over and have some?”
Immediately, your brain goes blank. Stepping into the apartment of a man you don't really know is a bad idea, right? Sure, he’s your neighbour, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. Your eyes flicker across his scars again, and the burning question of where they came from returns. Your mind wanders to all sorts of dark places, and you try to ignore the way it makes the uncomfortable ache in your stomach deepen. You remember reading somewhere that fear is a powerful aphrodisiac and it’s the only explanation for the wetness that’s gathering between your thighs for the hundredth time today. It has nothing to do with his fluffy hair, or how hot he looks when he wears that condescending expression!
Even you can’t seem to make yourself believe that lie.
“I don’t really know you well enough to go to your apartment,” you try to reason, although you hardly sound stern about it. Your voice is weak, shaky, and there’s plenty of room for push back. With your brain teetering on the edge of too-horny-to-be-logical, you have no doubt that if he were to push too hard, you’d be sat at his dinner table by the end of the night. Perhaps you should just slam your door in his face; it would solve a plethora of issues, including giving you the privacy to fix the one between your legs (again).
“Well, my name is Mingi,” he smiles and you almost collapse to the floor right then and there. The name bounces around in your skull. Mingi, Mingi, Mingi. It suits him; you like it; you can imagine moaning it.
“Mingi,” you whisper back to him, and his eyes darken.
“It sounds pretty coming from you, Kitty,” suddenly the nickname doesn’t sound so bad. It shoots a tingle down your spine right to that aching spot between your thighs. You gasp, and he looks at you like you’ve just moaned his name for the entire building to hear. Something tells you that the night is heading in that direction anyway. “So what do you say? Come over?”
And against all your better judgement, you nod.
Like a lamb to the slaughter, you just fucking nod.
“Good girl.”
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#ateez scenarios#ateez fic#ateez smut#mingi x reader#mingi smut
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Devotions though, I'm back thinking about Spoke's video. When Spoke told them he was scripting the dupe war with parrot: Zam's devastating "it's scripted" filled with all the disappointment, sorrow, betrayal, devastation that those two words could be filled with.
Mapicc's "I'd rather be banned than this be scripted".
This is why they're them. This is why everyone looks at them with a healthy little bit of fear, unsure what move they will make. (Zy's post about mapicc got me thinking about this.)
Bc imo it's this. This pure and purified distain for scripting.
Mapicc will exploit/cheat/go too far/murder before questions to stop a scripted story: to stop someone from dominating a story with their own plan without getting the input from the team. He will do that sporadic shit if it makes sense to him. And it really only has to make sense to him. Your script be damned.
Zam's incessant figure-it-out-as-he-goes mentality towards the story. Staying consistent with the character but always reassessing, always rethinking, always being moved by the narrative that others present.
It makes both of them incredibly consistent but also incredibly erratic for the other members.
And especially with like mawn, mapicc just going for the plan with no plan just an outline maybe. taking the conversations, making assumptions, doing things and seeing what happens. And then he gets blindsided by this mentality from zam as well where he thought zam would join or oppose but zam just chose.. sitting out. And for reasons that made perfect sense to himself.
fuck it, i'll write it in this post: both have this very particular way of making videos on lifesteal.
There's two general categories of lifesteal videos:
get the idea to happen on the server and the video is about making it happen, culminating in the success. Generally they go until they make it happen no matter how long it takes.
have an idea at the start the video, and see where it goes, ending wherever makes sense.
Devotions hit that second category more often than not. Mapicc still does the first occasionally, but mawn is a great example of it. The oath is another. The joker, abyss, castle (from both sides), even dupe war from their pov. The dupe was already a sure thing when they started the video, what progressed was what they did with it.
They both so fully embrace the wildness that is unscripted mcrp in a way that goes beyond a lot of the members, even as, obv, unscripted is the law of lifesteal.
Cause like, wormhole is a fantastic example of the first. And the "problem" (difficulty) with it is you don't really have a video if it never happens. So you veer closer and closer to making it happen at any cost.
It's also interesting to think of Leo's trapping Flame video as the first, especially as, for that type of video, his first traps had to fail for the video's progression, but then it got out of hand and he went for the void and an end crystal used in dubiously illegal ways. But the video could not end until Flame died.
Flame's 10v1 is another example of the first. And mapicc went *nope* and objected to Flame thinking it would be that easy to force the server around when it got a little difficult (planning is difficult).
I love both categories fr. but its so interesting to look at the videos and the server because on so many levels, the narrative that bounces around the members is "if I can figure out the video idea, i get what they're doing", which works perfectly for the first, but with the second, and we've literally seen this so much with s5, with the second it's like, okay I get the video idea; why are you still doing it. And the reasoning is so much more hidden and not understood from the outside even though from the inside it's the most logical and obvious series of events.
And what is most fun is how the death star was 1 and then became 2. And the second it shifted from "i will make a death star" into "we made a death star and it didn't work: what next?" was precisely the moment Mane could not understand why Minute would take the 1v1. Because this type of video is not about the results, it's about the journey. It's about standing up for what you believe in. It's about seeing how people react.
And all of that leads to a player who is confusing and unknown and a little bit scary. Who might just end the world, or maybe just your world.
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a hughes sibling interview
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)
the four hughes siblings are interviewed about their relationships with one another and growing up across toronto and michigan.
GUYS IM SO SORRY I HAVENT BEEN ACTIVE ITS BEEN SUCH A CRAZY WEEK AND A HALF. I PROMISE I SEE UR REQUESTS!! i was inspired to do this after seeing an old interview with jack and luke :) this is way more quinn, jack, luke + samy and not samy + will but i know you guys like reading about their sibling dynamic so i whipped this out
au masterlist
THE HUGHES SIBLINGS are fan favorites in the hockey and american soccer world. they spent their childhoods in toronto, ontario, canada before moving down to ann arbor, michigan to pursue more opportunities in the hockey world and eventually, american soccer for their youngest member. we sat down with the four to ask them what growing up together was like and how they're feeling about quinn's soon-to-be captaincy for the vancouver canucks.
Q: tell me about your dynamics growing up.
jack: oh god, well that's an easy one. quinn and i were the "leaders" i guess you could say. we were always put in charge of luke and samy even though luke always got mad because he felt like he didn't need to be looked after.
luke: you guys literally acted like you were five years older than us—
jack: in a way quinn was five years older than you. four at least.
luke: whatever.
samy: i think we all have a very unique relationship with one another because we all go to each other for different things. like i go to quinn when i need someone to tell me what i need to hear but don't want to hear. jack's who i got to when i need someone to hype me up. i got to luke for just about everything just because we're closer in age.
Q: do you think your age differences made it hard to get close to one another? for quinn, how did it feel to be six years older than samy growing up?
quinn: i mean when my parents told me they were having another baby and it was a girl i was pretty excited actually. growing up, i always wanted a little sister. i don't think our age difference ever really made it hard to get close? we've all been pretty close in general.
samy: i love having older brothers. maybe i can only say that because we get along, but growing up with them really taught me how to hold my own. they toughened me up for sure.
jack: i always feel like a two year age gap between everyone is perfect. it's not a crazy gap where we're all in drastically different stages of life, but we're never too far behind one another.
Q: i heard you three taught samy how to play hockey. what was that like?
jack: always so fun. she always wanted to do what we were doing so we started playing with her on our rink back in toronto and by the time she was ten she was literally pushing all of us into the boards.
quinn: we definitively taught her how to be more aggressive on the ice and all of what she knows is what we taught her.
Q: samy, was it ever hard to tell your brothers you were leaving hockey to play soccer?
samy: i mean i definitely worried they would be upset because it's what they love and i didn't want them to think i didn't love it anymore because i still do, but we've all been super supportive of each other and they were really glad i was doing what i loved.
luke: i think it was nice having a different sport our family could lean into because whenever we watch hockey together it gets really intense—and well i guess watching soccer got really intense for us, but we all quickly fell in love with the sport to watch samy play.
Q: did you guys ever have any sibling rivalry?
quinn: not really, no. of course we got competitive with one another at the house and in the walls, but outside of the house it's nothing but love for each other. we support each other a lot and i think that's something that's always been really important to us.
samy: we always got into it sometimes, but it wasn't ever serious. it was a lot of just cheering each other on from the sidelines.
jack: every sibling is gonna have some sort of rivalry, but it never went further than small poking and prodding at one another. we knew it was just in good fun.
luke: if anything samy and i were the most rivals because we went at it at everything we did. cards, board games, hockey, swimming, soccer—it was so funny.
Q: what was moving back to the states like?
samy: being 12 it was kind of hard for me because i lived my whole childhood in toronto, but i was excited for the new opportunities and being able to support my brothers closer. when quinn was in the states and we were still in toronto, it was really hard not having him around, so i was glad to be closer to him and jack.
quinn: i guess..not that hard? i'd already been in the states for usntdp so i guess it was just nice to have my family close again. when i first moved at 15 that was a bit hard because i was so far away from my siblings
jack: i mean it's something i thank my parents for a lot because a lot of what they did was for us. they always put us first and always made sure we had the best opportunities to push ourselves forward so i'm thankful for that and them.
luke: i think i was just glad i wouldn't be alone in michigan starting usntdp. kind of sad because quinn and jack basically got to live there by themselves, but it wasn't that hard.
Q: did you ever think your lives would be what they are right now?
samy: no, not at all. if you asked me that six years ago i would say no way and be shocked that i stopped playing hockey full time but i'm really grateful for everything that's happened. i love being at umich and playing on a team that i love so much.
luke: i mean does anyone really think they'll be where they are now? i am grateful for michigan and new jersey, it's been really great.
jack: i think i'd wanna give my younger self a pat on the back. my rookie year was pretty tough and i honestly didn't think i'd make it out, but i'm glad i kept my head up and proved everyone who thought i couldn't do well wrong.
quinn: never in a million years would i think i'd become captain to a pro hockey team, but i am super grateful. it's been a really amazing five years and i love the team, i love the guys. they're all really great.
Q: final question: what is one thing you wanna say to quinn before he becomes captain tomorrow night?
jack: i'm really proud of you man. you've worked really hard for this and i know you're gonna bring the canucks some really great seasons as captain. you're dedicated and no one deserves this more than you do.
luke: i've looked up to you my whole life and i don't think i'll ever stop. you did a really great job basically raising samy and i and you're gonna do a really great job being captain to the canucks. they're real lucky to have you.
samy: i'm super proud of you and you really helped me find my way so many times growing up. i couldn't have asked for a better big brother. i love you quinny and i can't wait to see you become captain tomorrow night.
#will smith hockey#hughes!sister x will smith au#samy x will#samy hughes#will smith x oc#will smith imagine#boston college hockey#boston college#uofmichigan#umich hockey#luke hughes#jack hughes#quinn hughes#umich#umich soccer#umich blurb#umich fic#umich imagine#jh86#lh43#qh43#vancouver canucks#new jeresey devils#nj devils#canucks#canucks hockey#quinn x samy#jack x samy#luke x samy#nhl
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Also notable: I rarely see anyone say this about, like, romance movies (at least in earnest; there are soooo many other discourses about romance as a genre, but this isn't one I've seen).
Nobody says "noooo, don't go into the quaint little small-town café, Miss New York Businesswoman Protagonist! No, you're so goddamned dumb for talking to the guy who literally collided with you walking in the door!! You're so effing stupid for allowing him to pick up the papers you dropped!
Nobody says "Character is ridiculous for not trying to avoid freezing to death by huddling for warmth in the cabin!"
Nobody says "but they should know better!" about romance plots, unless it's some "love thine enemy" thing where logically the character should know better than to fall in love with the tragic, handsome villain who just tried to have them killed/kidnapped/dethroned/etc., but even then. The characters in a romance plot don't somehow miraculously know they're in a romance, they just know that they've encountered a [charming stranger] [mysterious rival] [new understanding of their childhood bestie] [any and all trope pairings that apply] and that, as they go about their day, Shit Happens. Compared to other genres it might be comparably low-stakes because nobody's in danger of getting stabbed (maybe, who knows, it could happen), but they don't posses foreknowledge of the events because they're not aware that this sequence of events is something like "A Duke for the Holidays" instead of "just another goddamned Tuesday".
We know.
We're supposed to know.
While part of me rails against an easy reliance on trope marketing, primarily when it supersedes any and all notions of telling me what the gods-damned book is about, as an audience we are, consciously or otherwise, aware of tropes and trends and patterns. We know, as the audience, that in a small-town romance film Miss New York Businesswoman Protagonist is going to break up with her boyfriend who never has time for her and shack up with the hunky father of two who works as a conservationist for a near-extinct, totally-not-made-up species of butterfly that only reproduces every six years under the light of a falling star, or something*. That's how the plot works.
Half the fun is figuring out how it happens.
Half the scare is figuring out how it happens, because horror, like romance, has a pretty defined end (though it isn't always death, but that's pretty clear from the beginning when that's the case).
I'm a spec-fic author. I'm working on a gothic sci-horror novel that, in its alpha stages, has scared the bejesus out of my reader to the point where she thinks the monster is going to appear in her house. She keeps feeling like she's being watched. We're 2/3 of the way through and she's paranoid to the point where she can't actually read the thing for long stretches of time even if she desperately wants to. I also write fantasy, and there are tropes and expectations that I rely on there, as well. But gods, I'm so tired of people (beyond the half-terror under a blanket "no, don't go in there!!!" response, without acknowledging that it must happen) not applying the same logic to horror protagonists as they do to those of other genres. They're not dumb.
Horror isn't dumb.
It's profoundly, utterly human in its terror.
And to the main point of the post: nothing Jonathan Sims (Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London) could have done would have averted the ending to his story. He's a brilliant mind cracking under strain, attempting to wrangle forces well beyond human comprehension that prey on his being a brilliant mind attempting to wrangle them. The Entities, on occasion, give him what he wants. He learns. He grows.
Until he becomes a monster himself.
There are so many versions of the story, littered with alternate choices and voltas and changes in patterns. "No" instead of "yes" that eventually becomes "yes", anyway, because it has to.
A big-city businesswoman, visiting her aging father for Christmas, walks into a coffee shop and runs headlong into her widowed highschool sweetheart after years away.
A gallant knight, stripped of his armour, raises a sword to protect the princess and slay the dragon.
A PI cracks a cold-case that's been haunting the local police for years after they stumble on new evidence, almost by accident.
Almost by a miracle.
A brave starship captain lays down their life to save an entire planet, millions of lives, because it is right, and at the last second is retrieved by advanced technology created by a society that cares.
Jonathan Sims does the best he can with the information he has, and he almost makes it out in the end.
Until he doesn't.
There is no other version of the story.
----
*I was being mostly facetious in this claim but a part of me actually really wants a low-stakes cozy romantasy in this setting. I can't write that type of stake to save my life (even my fanfiction has to have something life-threatening, so no butterflies for me) so if that prompt strikes your fancy, feel free to steal it and modify however needed. Just... let me know if you ever finish it.
JONATHAN ARCHIVIST IS NOT STUPID SQUAD I WILL ALWAYS BE WITH YOU
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bro.
I wanna know the process it takes to do her hair
long post ahead. YEAH I KNOW. TWO POSTS TODAY
Like damn how you get curls like that 😭🙏 it can't be natural (half of me thinks she naturally has straight semi-wavy hair but styles it like this. ORRR MAYBE ITS VERY STRAIGHT BUT SHE CURLS IT. I'll just stick w the first option tbh) but like she don't do it like this all that time to prevent heat damage right??? But hey it's resident evil anything could be possible 😭
She'd seem like the type to style her hair like this on most days and then the other days she'll go natural but still style it (fancy and pretty obv) without heat products. Naw what kind of heat products she use. What kind of products does she use at all. Does she even use products? 😭 Knowing her and her want to be beautiful,(girl u already are) But her hair looks mad soft though so she probably uses conditioner during wash days or maybe other hair products. Keep that softness fr
But honestly. Really wanna know her haircare routine. And if she even keeps this hairstyle all the time cause there's gotta be heat involved if it's curled that way.
Yeah this is my second post today. But honestly having many thoughts about the dimi-family, especially Alcina.
But in all, if it is really actually straight under all that styling, I wonder what she'd look like naturally? Maybe her hair is slightly wavy but also straight at the same time, she just uses some type of flat iron to flatten out the top so it matches with the curls at the bottom. Bro I'm thinking too much about hair rn 😭🙏
anyways off topic I think her curls are adorable like I'd bounce them for fun careful not to mess them up ofc
*in a fucking bad matpatt impression* BUT HEY, THAT'S JUST A HC AAAAA GAAAAAMMMEEE HC thanks for watching 😘
#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#resident evil village#resident evil#re8 alcina#resident evil 8#re8 lady dimitrescu#lady alcina dimitrescu#re8#alcina demitriscu#musing about Alcina's hair because idfk why
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“If you wanna act like an animal, I'll treat you like one. "
You have. For years, I am different than the other kids on the playground, I like to read and draw, I probably barked or meowed once or twice as a kid, I may have even hissed at you when you upset me. Why did I do all of those things? Because, I was a little neurodivergent kid who hadn't learned how to act in public when I was little. Middle school hits, and I have only slightly changed, I won't hiss at you anymore but I am still weird, I'm too much for most people, I start to trail behind people like a lost dog, I start to get rewarded when I do something they like but yelled at when something I do upsets them, And even then I would take the blame even if it was their fault. It's high school now. I'm loud. I'm mean, I'm different than the others, I'm neurodivergent and I'm alternative and I don't take shit from most people,
So I became the animal that bites.
But while you were watching me become the mean dog, I was already there. I told my entire family that I was a cat. I had family who treated me like a cat! I had a cousin who would pet me, not in a weird way, she never did anything bad. But I would get cradled and I was given different foods that resembled cat food or dog food, take those Scooby cracker things for example! I loved those, while you were bullying me I was imagining what it would be like to run around in the woods as a wolf, Or what it would be like if I was a little cat, and sometimes when you would startle me I would hiss at you, lost in thought and terrified of human interaction. I had my grandmother ask if I was still gonna do this when I was older, an what would my husband think? Well... I'm dating another alterhuman now. Which is what I told her I'd do anyway, so! Here I am!
My point is, no matter how hard I've tried I've never felt human. So much so that as a kid I recognized, "I'm not like these people." my alterhumanity stems from Neurodivergence, My trauma, My not fitting in with people, and honestly I love being able to slap this label on. I loved knowing there were people like me! I wish I would've learned about it sooner. I remember seeing the "on all levels except physical, I am a wolf" vine and Being like. That's SO COOL!!?
And I will always chuckle at the "Well! .. You don't have to become an animal because of that stuff!" like no fuck off you're so anti fun and coping and you're just boring!!! The community has its flaws, but It certainly has its perks. I wouldn't have met some really amazing people if I hadn't learned about it!
I love being an animal and expressing myself
#🧡🐾.a loaded gun#alterhuman rant#Rant#long post#cw long post#long post warning#alterhuman#therian#otherkin#nonhuman#alterhumanity#therianthropy#cat therian#cat kin#dogkin#Dog therian#Wolf therian#Alterhuman stories#nonhuman shapeshifter#alterhuman shapeshifter#shapeshifter kintype
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YEAYYY thank you thank you karme,, pardon the two weeks late response cough. now im too shy to tag everyone ive insteracted with BUT
@maeaea youre the sweetest awesomest person and im so glad im able to talk to you <33 also MUAHAHA i think this is my first time tagging you in one of these after so many posts gone un-reblogged,, pardon me
@usachxxn i dont think we've directly talked but I LOVE YOUR ARTT SO MUCH eveerytime a new post pops up on my dash i jump around in joy GOSH cant believe we're moots!!!
@0-sbourne i am so sorry i havent posted about Finson in so long (i got SHY AUAUUUHG) but i am so grateful you asked to be tagged in my posts of them,, also YAY TO YOUR GARMADON PUMPKIN (i forgot to recheck the date on that post pardon if im 3 months late 😭😭)
@meavaly (pardon if im bothering you!,,) but i NEEd to say that even months later i STILL think about that two-screenshots-long of tags you left on my one singular geode post. i'd been meaning to respond then the days turned to weeks to months- whoops! i really appreciate it, and ouuugh yes geode making sure the kids dont feel the way he felt GOSH i cant decribe how smiley i was reading the whole thing
Again thank you all !! and everyone else ive ever interacted with on this site over the past year even if just once or twice,, its been nothing but absolute sweet joy and fun here !!! i hope to be a little more active this year,, atleast post every week ehh heh
@animated-scribble @y0ur-f4vor1te-crypt1d @kartsstuffig @44-mr-midnight-44 @silver-eater @free-slug-cat @my-mom-named-me-duck @softenedsunbeams @ccosmicentity @starsofthestorm @jaime-in-chaos @ the person who sent me this (i cant remember your url so sorry man) @ UHM UHM I FORGOT URLS
#awesome sauce#i am so nervous to hit the post button#i cannot thank you all enough aauuuehehhrrtuhtuytyyju
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this one panel in issue #50 and it's, like, not THAT bad alright
fuck it im tired and had a long day this is my treat to myself. im talking about that panel. yes, THAT panel. which one?
THIS ONE. alrighty this is off the cuff and terrible, lets go.
so this panel isnt like, that bad in context when it comes to Sonic. i think specifically "ive made peace with enough enemies to know there is a better way" is a really interesting line here, because it calls back to the amount of times that the "villain" hes fought has just been a person whos hurting, and how hes been able to help those people. it makes sense that eventually hes more keen on trying to figure out someones whole story before deciding if theyve gotta go (which is rare).
but i want to talk about the FRAMING of this panel, and specifically the larger context of this issue in particular. theres a lot of flip-flopping in perspectives. usually, IDW is told through Sonic's perspective (loosely, this kind of thing is up to interpretation a lot), but in issue 50, it switches rapidly between four different groups -- Sonic and Surge, Tails and Kit, Eggman and Starline, and Belle and Metal. within these groups, the perspective its being told from changes a few times, but never as much as Sonic and Surge's do
i actually love these two when they interact as a storyteller myself, and one that has handled scripts too often for my own liking. Sonic and Surge do this thing where they push and pull the pacing of the script to fit their motives -- Surge keeps trying to escalate things, whenever shes in a panel everything starts pushing rapidly and it feels like the panels are tumbling off the page. when Sonic does anything, though, its slow and deliberate. hes having fun fighting, sure, but he can very much tell that Surge is trying to kill him and hes not having any of that. Sonic keeps things slow and focused, Surge tries to push things faster and unfocused. i could get into how this reflects her motivations and stuff but thats not what this is about i already lost track of what i was talking about fuck hang on
ok so. Surge knows shes supposed to be Sonic, to be BETTER than Sonic. its all she knows, really, and thats the problem. shes traumatized and full of rage and Sonic has been put on this high pedestal, not just by her, but by everyone. she cannot stand this.
this panel is how SURGE sees Sonic, specifically the composition. hes shrouded in light and physically above her -- its not even that subtle of a metaphor, they use it all the time in idw.
the entire overpowered saga shows Surge clawing for control of herself, her life, her freedom... this issue sets all that up in the main story. the way Sonic is framed here isnt how he sees himself at all. weve seen him do this exact same thing from his own perspective before, where everyone is on even ground. he doesnt see himself as above anyone, this instance of him being depicted as such isnt alluding to how Sonic feels about himself, its how Surge feels about Sonic.
and, look, its not the most well-done in the world. this issue has a whole host of problems, evident by the constant switching of focus from one group to a next (a problem that i think they did better on in the Phantom Rider saga). i literally forgot about Belle and Metal in this issue bc theres just so much more going on, i wouldve loved for them to slow things down a bit, maybe splitting it into two issues, but hey, what can you do, yk?
as an aside, i think its really weird how people narrow in on this specific panel of Sonic as being "so out of character", which i sorta like, 30% agree with (i think some phrasing could be better), and then ignore the page right after it...
...in which he pretty much says "you dont get freedom if youre gonna be a problem". funnily enough, on twitter i have this flow chart saved whenever i need a quick guide on Sonics morality and stuff, its really not that complicated
x
none of this is new imo, we see he has the same philosophy in sa1 and satbk. Chaos was blinded by rage and pain after being trapped for thousands of years RIGHT after they were attacked by the echidnas. Merlina was so scared of death (implied to be because she had lost family members and wasnt able to cope with it well) that she became a monster in an attempt to never let anything change ever again. these arent very different stories in my head i guess, just cases of Sonic seeing people who are hurting and doing his best to free them from that.
uhhhh anyways. all this is disorganized i forgot what i was talking about like 5 times while writing this but. people on twitter are ripping into this issue again. like its a b tier issue stop acting like its an f yk Q_Q i will defend anything if people are too mean tbh
thanks for making it this far if you read all this. i love idw a lot and i think that it does have some flaws, theyre all really blown out of proportion.
have a great day/afternoon/evening wherever you are yall :) bye bye
#sonic analysis#i guess#sonic idw#sonic the hedgehog#surge the tenrec#<eh idk i feel like surge fans could back me up on this?#or critique me if need be#its been a while since i really thought about surge a good bit. shes very interesting but also so complicated that i dont think i could eve#do her justice in like 10k words let alone like. less than 300 lol#ummm please dont bully me for this its just my onion thumbsup. if you wanna have a civil discussion about it tho you can come to my ask box#im nice
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I keep seeing people worship Christian Linke for some shit he’s said and ignore the fact this man is antisemetic and heavily insensitive towards non white and straight characters HE IS NOT YOUR ALLY
I genuinely think people just don't know how much of a shitty person he is. Seriously, that dude was quite possibly the worst person to put in charge of a project like Arcane. Here are just some of things he's said that you should know of:
• Linke said the death of every character in Arcane was a direct result of their own actions : "Every single big beat in the end with our characters, whether it’s a death or not, is a consequence of their choices."
So, I'd like you to explain to me how Vander's death was his fault, because I don't quite remember him agreeing to becoming Warwick. Also, maybe having the three characters portrayed as suicidal in the show (Jinx, Viktor, and Jayce) all die, and go on to say it was just the consequences of their own actions... isn't a good message?
• Linke has declared Viktor as asexual on his own, with the sole purpose of discouraging JayVik shippers : "There is a love. I don't think it's romantic [...]. To me, Viktor was always asexual".
Now, the issue here isn't having an asexual character, its having chosen VIKTOR, one of the most important characters for disabled rep in animation and popular media, to be asexual. I've went on and on about how infantalizing that is to disabled/chronically ill fans, because we NEVER get to be perceived as sexual beings. Having a body that's visibly different from the norm, or limits on certain abilities, turns off people, makes them uncomfortable. That's why you just never see a sexually active or a sex positive disabled character on screen. That's why, in all his "sexy" skins in LoL, Viktor is given a six pack, has no visible marks of illness on his body (scars, fatigue lines), and has no medical brace or crutch.
Viktor was always intended to have a sexual swagger in season 1 ("this isnt my bedroom") and that was EXTREMELY important to a lot of us in the community. I've seen a very similar response from the asexual community as well, who feel like Linke is using their identity and experience as a shield from fan interractions he dislikes, and without actual care for what it means to the characters. Don't fall for rep that isn't actually meant to represent you.
• Linke has directly and openly compared the Zaun and Piltover conflict to the left and right in the United States, and put both sides on equal moral footing : "If you’re asking me whether we were inspired by two sides of one nation who are incapable of even talking to each other anymore at a certain point, yes."
So, I don't think I need to explain how bad this is. Remember that Piltover is the city of wealth and enforcers, and that they've gazed the district of Zaun, dumped chemicals around their water suplies, directed brutal and deadly repressions of civil uprising and protest, offered no financial support to the struggling communities of addicts, disabled people, and orphans, refused Zaun any implication or decisional seat in the city political life, AND THAT'S JUST ON TOP OF MY HEAD. Now, think about what that means with the USA politics comparison, and the idea that they should "just listen to each other". Yeah.
Now, if you know me a bit, you know I live in Canada, so maybe you think this doesn't affect me personally, or that it doesn't affect you because you live outside the US. To that, I want to tell you about a neighbour of mine, who lives on the street parallel to my house, and this truck he owns. The truck has a whole lot of fun stickers and flags on it: the quotes "TRUMP ARREST TRUDEAU" and "CANADIANS FOR TRUMP", the israeli flag, the confederate flag, christian crosses, the blue lives matter flag, and an anti BLM sticker. Now, I'm sure theres more cool things, I've just never gotten close enough to look at the smaller stickers and ornaments because, as a very openly bi arabic woman, I'm scared to death of that man. But maybe I should just hear him out, right?
Tldr, do not think that the state of american politics doesn’t affect the rest of the world.
• Linke has called the people of Zaun and specifically Silco "Svengali", which is an antisemitic name that implies Jewish people are crooks / dirty / thiefs / sexual degenerates. There's a great post on Tumblr that goes more into detail about this (https://www.tumblr.com/endearing-dalliance/769693230696677376/another-blow-against-arcane-anti-semitism?source=share). I'd just like to insist on how bad calling someone "svengali" is. His character was used in many pieces of propaganda in Nazi Germany to picture the "Evil Jew", and to dehumanize Jewish communities by portraying them as ressembling Satan (forked beard, can do unholy hypnosis, targets women...). Linke could have chosen ANY other term to talk about Zaunites, the oppressed community getting gazed by a police state, but he chose that one. That was not an unconscious decision.
I'm a firm believer that it is possible to separate art from artist/studio/company, and to appreciate something while still being aware the person behind it is not a great individual. However, if you're defending all the decisions made in season 2, these are things you HAVE to be aware of.
#arcane#arcane critical#arcane season 2#christian linke#arcane analysis#viktor arcane#silco#jinx#jayce talis#vander#zaun#my asks#mine#fruitforthoughts 💭#yippee#my rants
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BIG EGO | Kylian Mbappé
pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader
word count: 2.5k
summary: people say you and kylian are the perfect match; both of you confident, unstoppable, and drawn to each other like magnets. when one evening you loyally defend him against snarky online critics, kylian shows his appreciation by proving once again that while his ego might be big, there’s something else of his that's even bigger...
warnings: smut!!! its all smut
a/n: this song feels like kylian so much lol, i figured i had to write something based on it. writing smut is still so hard *no pun intended* 🥲 feedback is welcome
you know kylian better than anyone else.
he’s kind, funny, smart, but above all, he’s confident. he doesn’t downplay his talent or pretend not to notice the greatness everyone else sees in him. instead, he’s matter of fact about it, and you find that quality of his charming, magnetic, and infuriatingly sexy. why?because you’re the same.
you know your worth. why move through the world being fake humble? you’re aware of who you are, what you’re capable of, and you don’t see the point in pretending otherwise. there’s no reward in dimming your light to make others feel comfortable. it’s not arrogance; it’s confidence. but for many men, especially those you were romantically involved with in the past, your confidence often intimidated them, and they ran away.
not kylian, though.
when you first met him, a meddling stranger had warned with fake concern that kylian was 'too full of himself' and therefore bad news. yet from the very first conversation it was like seeing yourself reflected in someone else. the same drive to succeed in your careers, the same unwavering self assurance. where others saw you as a threat, he saw you as an equal partner, and he didn’t shrink away from you. instead, he was drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. or more accurately, like fire meeting fire. together, you bring out the best in each other.
"what a beautiful couple!' people usually exclaim at weddings, birthday parties, or any social gathering. they admire the way you hold yourselves, the way your personalities mesh in such a perfect way. you understand why it works: you see the best in yourselves, and you see it in each other too. and sometimes you play up the cockiness people project onto you two, just cuz it's fun. especially in the bedroom, when its just you two and you can bask in each other's love.
but sometimes, that projection can get under your skin. tonight is one of those nights.
you’ve just gotten back home after an evening game at the bernabeu, a game the team won. it feels like he’s hitting his stride again, growing sharper and more confident in the white shirt he’s always dreamed of wearing. he scored a nice goal, yet the trolls online still seem determined to tear him down.
kylian has never really minded it. whether praise or criticism, he’s used to people talking about him. he knows football fans can be fickle and reactionary, so he usually doesn't put much weight onto whatever they say. in fact, he makes a point to stay offline most of the time, to disconnect from the craziness of twitter. but you? you're very online, and sometimes you can’t help but want to bite back on his behalf.
you’re scrolling through your twitter timeline, sitting on your bed waiting for kylian to come to bed so you can call it a night, when one tweet catches your eye: “the dictator is destroying the locker room”
you roll your eyes. you scroll down and find another: “he’s so arrogant, always calling himself one of the best players in the world”
the audacity.
before you can think twice, your fingers are already typing away. “he talks like this cuz he can back it up!” you hit send, satisfaction coursing through you at having shut up one more idiot spewing nonsense on the internet.
“what are you doing?” kylian’s voice pulls you back to reality.
you glance up, and your breath hitches. he’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, having just emerged from the walk-in closet wearing his usual bedtime attire: absolutely nothing but a pair of tight black boxers. your gaze involuntarily slides over the sharp planes of his abs, to his bulging crotch where you can see a hint of a curve beneath the waistband, then finally to his powerful, sculpted thighs. you swallow hard at the sight.
“nothing” you say, a little too quickly.
his eyebrows lift, and he steps closer before sitting down on the bed beside you, taking the phone from your hands. his eyes scan the screen, and his smirk widens. “defending my honor online huh?”
you fold your arms, suddenly defensive. “they were saying ridiculous things and you’re too chill about it”
he shakes his head, chuckling softly. “ma chérie, people have been talking about me for years. i don’t care what they say. why do you?”
“because you deserve better” you say, your voice firm. “they act like it’s a crime that you're confident. it pisses me off”
his expression softens. he cups your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “i don’t need anyone to fight my battles” he says, his voice low. “but it’s cute that you want to”
you glare at him half heartedly. “i’m not cute. i’m right”
“you’re both” he says, leaning his head in the crook of your neck. “and just so you know, i love that you’re always in my corner. i think it's really hot”
he presses his lips to the soft curve of your neck, breathing you in before pressing slow kisses, lips dragging a trail of shivers in their wake. his fingers find the thin strap of your camisole, sliding it down your shoulder as his hands begin to roam from your shoulders to your waist, before tracing the curve of your hips and gliding over your thighs.
then his lips move to yours, his tongue slipping past your lips with ease. your hands move instinctively, one cradling the back of his head, while the other grazes the nape of his neck with your nails. you know exactly what that does to him, the way it sends a shiver rippling through his body. his sharp inhale against your mouth tells you you’ve hit your mark, and it only encourages you, pulling him closer as the kiss grows even more heated.
“that skirt you wore tonight…” he murmurs against your lips, his hands slipping under the hem of your pajama shorts and gripping your upper thighs. “you knew what you were doing, didn’t you? showing off these legs. in the tunnel when you were waiting for me, all the guys there were staring at you”
you break the kiss. “jealous?”
“no" he says calmly. “there’s no one better than me"
you know he means it. and it turns you on.
he continues, “they can try, but they’ll never make your head turn, because no one compares to me”
your hand wanders to his bulge, and you hear his breath hitch as you rub him through his boxers.
“such a huge ego” you tease.
he just shrugs in response, a proud smirk playing on his face. the same smirk he has in press conferences when he’s outsmarted a slick journalist fishing for a soundbite to twist out of context.
you lick the palm of your hand and slide it inside his boxers, eagerly pulling him out. his hips involuntarily jerk at the contact, and you smirk. you swipe your fingers over the fat, swollen head, admiring the sight of what's in your hand. he’s so warm, so so hard, so smooth. and all yours to play with.
“y/n” his voice comes out rugged. “fuck that’s good”
you like watching all of his control dissolve. love replacing that smirk on his face with an agonized look.
“tell me what else is good” you murmur as you slowly stroke him, tightening your grip.
kylian groans, his head tipping back.
“being inside you. that’s the best” he breathes, his voice rough with desire. “but you already know that”
your smirk widens as you lean closer to him. “i do” you tease, your lips brushing against his ear. your tongue peeks out and sensually drags over his lobe before you bite it, eliciting a breathy sigh from him. “but I like hearing you say it”
you keep stroking him, and the faster you jerk his dick, the more he falls apart. soon he’s moaning, catching your wrist with one strong hand, begging you, “no more. don’t make me come before i get inside you”
you pout before slowing your movements, running your thumb over one thick vein running up the length of him.
“y/n” he groans, his hips jerking once again. unable to resist, you press a chaste kiss to the place where the vein meets the head. your mouth is watering for him.
but just as you're about to get down on your knees so you can finally put him in your mouth, he suddenly moves, his hands slipping under your thighs to lift you effortlessly and laying you back against the bed. his body hovers over yours, and his gaze locks onto yours, intense and dark with arousal.
“i was about to suck you off” you whine.
he grins. "you'll get to, any time you want. its all yours. but i want to taste you tonight"
his mouth moves to your neck, his lips brushing softly before his teeth scrape against your skin. you let out a contented sigh, his words making you very excited for what's to come.
his hands slide under your camisole, pushing it up and over your head in one fluid motion. the cool air meets your heated skin, and his eyes lazily glide over your naked form. he tweaks one nipple, and you shiver.
his hands go lower, and he gently lifts you up by the hip so can he slide your shorts and panties off you.
“no one compares to you either, you know” he says, his voice thick with meaning as he shifts lower on the bed, his broad shoulders spreading your legs with ease. he pauses, glancing up at you with that infuriatingly confident wink. “not in this lifetime. or the next. or ever. we’re the same. that's why we're made for each other”
and with that, he dips his head, his mouth finding its rightful place.
you let out a quiet yelp as his tongue slides through your folds inquisitively, as if it hasn’t been there a hundred times before. it's warm and probing, and almost reverent, like you're a delicious meal he's trying to savor. his beard that you make fun of serves its purpose in times like these; it rasps against the tender spot where your thighs meet your ass, and the friction amplifies everything, every sensation sharper, hotter, better. you can't help but arch into him, craving more.
and then there’s his hand, his fingers working your clit in such fast, insistent circles that if he stops you might kill him. the intensity builds so quickly it’s almost unbearable, and you grip the sheets like they’re the only thing anchoring you. you’re lying on a bed, yes, but his tongue is making you so weak you’re sure you’ll fall apart if it wasn’t for one of his strong arms wrapped around your upper thigh holding you in place. even then, you writhe and squirm, eyes shut in ecstasy, mouth repeating “yes, please”s and “oh my god”s and nothing else.
when you finally come, the pleasure rolls through you in waves, leaving you boneless and trembling. still, he doesn’t stop. his tongue stokes you through the aftershock, even as your muscles turn into liquid and your body feels like it’s floating.
he finally relents when you place your hand on his head and shake him slightly. he looks up, his lips and the tip of his pretty nose glistening from your wetness, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. he’s got a smug look on his face. “see? who else could do this to you?”
you don’t answer him with words; instead, you let your body speak for you. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him down to you, drawing his mouth to yours. the kiss is slow and languid, your lips moving against his as you savor the taste of yourself on him.
when your breath steadies and the aftermath of your orgasm fades into a warm feeling, you nip at his bottom lip, tugging it gently before pulling back. the smirk that crosses his face tells you he already knows what’s coming next.
because it’s kylian, and he knows you as intimately as you know yourself. because it always feels like he can read your mind, like your desires are two halves of the same whole. without a word, he rolls onto his back, sprawling against the sheets compliantly, leaving himself open for you to ride him.
you waste no time, sliding over him and straddling his strong thigh, the muscles beneath you flexing beautifully. his hands find your hips, steadying you as you position yourself. your bodies align perfectly, and as you sink down onto him, he slides home with ease.
there’s no painful friction, but there’s still a small pleasurable ache, the stretch that always comes with him. no matter how many times you’ve done this, your body always needs a moment to adjust, to accommodate him. the slight burn is part of the experience, a reminder of just how much of him there is. he groans low in his throat as you take him fully, the sound vibrating through your chest. "you're so big" you moan.
“you okay?” he murmurs, his voice rough but caring.
you nod, resting your palms on his chest as you steady yourself. “yeah” you whisper. "i can handle you"
his lips curve into a grin, his hands tightening on your hips. “i know” he says, his tone shifting “we fit so good. i told you, we're made for each other”
his words send a shiver through you as you rise slowly and sinking back down on him again. the drag of his cock against your walls sends sparks shooting through your body, and you bite your lip, letting out a soft moan. kylian’s gaze never leaves you, his dark eyes filled with heat and something deeper, something raw and unspoken.
“fuck, you’re perfect” he breathes, his fingers pressing into your skin as you find your rhythm.
you move with deliberate slowness at first, your hips rolling as you grind against him. the sensation is exhilarating, the way he fills you, stretches you, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing worth watching in the world.
leaning down, you press your lips to his ear. “you like watching me take you like this, don’t you?” you murmur, your voice dripping with confidence. “because I’m so fucking hot”
he groans, his hands sliding up your sides, over your ribs, until they find your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you. “you're so fucking hot” he agrees, his hips bucking slightly, pushing even deeper.
you pick up the pace, riding him with more intensity now, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. his hands guide your movements, helping you find just the right angle, and soon you’re both lost in the heat of it, in the raw, unending need for each other. from time to time you lean down to give him a better view of your breasts, the way you know he likes it.
when his hand slides between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, it’s almost too much. the added stimulation sends you over the edge, your head tipping back as pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave.
“ky” you cry out, your hands clutching at his chest as you fall apart around him.
“baby” he groans. he repeats his upward thrusts, holding you in place so you can do nothing but take it. again, again, and again, until you tighten yourself around him so much he has no chance of holding it off. his own release chases after yours.
finally he stills, his body tensing as he lets go, a deep, guttural moan leaving his mouth.
for a moment, neither of you moves, your breaths mingling as you come down from the high. then he reaches up, cupping your face and pulling you down for a kiss. It’s slow and tender, a contrast to the fire that had just consumed you both.
when you finally pull away, his lips curve into a lazy smile. “you’re incredible, you know that?”
you smirk, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "of course i do”
you know he knows you mean it.
his laugh is soft, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. “god, i love you” he says, and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell.
you lean down, pressing your forehead to his. “i love you too, ky” you whisper.
slowly, you lift yourself off him, feeling the tender ache as you slide him out of you. you settle back onto the bed beside him, the sheets cool against your hot, sweaty skin. for a while, you both just lie there catching your breath.
“what was that tweet you saw about me earlier?” kylian asks a little later, after you’ve taken care of the mandatory post sex clean up routine and gotten back in bed.
“hmm?”
“earlier,” he repeats, turning his head to look at you. “i saw your reply, but I didn’t see the tweet you were replying to. what did it say?”
“oh that” you giggle. there’s still so much endorphins rushing in you that you can’t even find the anger you felt earlier when you saw the tweet. “it said you’re destroying the real madrid locker room”
kylian arranges his face into a mock scowl. “nonsense” he says, lips twitching. he pauses for dramatic effect, and you know what he’s about to say. “the only thing I destroy is this pussy”
you both burst out laughing.
tags: @idontknowwhatthisvis555 @nowrosesaredead @iuoiyr @acarolnzinhaa-03 @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @loonworld @whateveryouloser @greyishbach @ajsboys @kyliansonlygf @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @heartbreakylian @cleverwinnermaker @creampuff07
#kylian mbappe imagine#kylian mbappe smut#kylian mbappe#kylian mbappe x reader#kylian x reader#kylian mbappé imagine#kylian mbappé x reader#kylian mbappé smut#football fanfic#kylian mbappe one shot#kylian mbappé one shot#kylian mbappe x you#kylian mbappé x you
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OK. WE have to start with the fact that your summary is 🫵THAT🫵 WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT I THOUGHT I WAS HERE FOR CUTE FUN TIMES WITH CREGAN WHAT IS HAPPENING WHY IS HE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE HELLO??????
YOU CRUMPLE THE letter in your fist, hearing the parchment wrinkle with a satisfying sound. Then, you throw it into the flames, watching as the fire grows slightly bigger, and the ball uncurls, alight for a second, before it is fully consumed.
..... I'm not gonna lie to you... I don't remember what I meant to say ...... I THINK ITS JUST ME PANICKING THAT WERE STARTING OFF LIKE THIS WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SIT CRISTI WHERES THE FUN TIMES NO IM SCARED
You had not realized you had started to measure time like this. Before and After Luke’s death, as people did with Before and After the Conquest.
Horrible reality but beautifully put my gosh I just ate chocolate pudding or something YUMMM
Whatever he is doing, hunched over his desk, is interrupted. “You cannot do this to me! Mother will not allow it.”
PFFFT IM SO SORRY HUNCHED OVER HAS ME GAGGED IDC IDC IF IM WASTING MY MEME REACTIONS ON THIS BUT ITS GIVING VERY MUCH THE POSTURE MEME
EXPECTATION VS REALITY
Also I get it now. I get why we're starting like this damn I was scared you made cregan into a cheater
But grief has made you into live lighting, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
UGHHHHHH WHAT THE HECK THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL I KEEP SAYING IMMA STEAL YOUR WORDS BECAUSE DAMN BUT ALAS I CANT REMEMBER TO DO IT COS IM NOT BUILT LIKE THAT WTFFFFF
“He has put a wife in the grave already.”
🧍♀️ OH. OK. I GET IT NOW FR FR
[...] You know the dangers of childbirth. Perhaps even better than I.”
😀 I love how he thinks this would comfort her
You hated being second in anything.
❤️🩹 I felt that
Being a twin meant having to share everything, including the love of those around you.
THEYRE TWINS? I FEEL LIKE I DIDNT COPY IT BUT RHAENA AND BAELA ARE TWINS TOO???? WHATTTT IM GAGGED I FEEL LIKE IM ALWAYS FINDING OUT PPL ARE TWINS IN YOUR FICS
When you married, you had hoped to be the only woman in your husband’s life, not to be compared to a ghost. You had seen exactly how that went. King Viserys had never forgotten his first wife, [...]
This is the part where we say together 🗣️FUCK🗣️YOU🗣️VISERYS🗣️ AND YAH IDK IF I COPIED IT OR NOT BUT THE PART WHERE YOU SAID HE CHOSE ALICENT MARRIED HER OUT OF LOVE 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 THATS WHY YOU ROTTED WHILE STILL ALIVE FUCK YOU IM SPITTING AT YOUR GRAVE
“You said you were afraid of childbirth, and he already has an heir. There is no better solution.”
CAN HE SHUT THE FUCK UP
As Jace prepares a scathing comeback, face scrunched up in mirrored displeasure to your own, [...]
They're so siblings™
“Why can the whole castle hear your quarrel?”
🤣🤣🤣 LIKE I SAID SO SIBLINGS
“My fault?!” He says, placing his hands on his hips. “Apologies, I think they didn’t hear your screeching about Lord Stark in Driftmark!”
NEJDJKDJ LOL THEYRE SO SIBLINGGGS ME TO MY SISTER
“I did. I think it is for the best. You will be safer next to Cregan Stark, in Winterfell, than you could ever be here.”
I HATE HER
[...] her mind is already made.
I understand her. I hate her
“You did because I have no dragon. I bet you are scheming to send Rhaena away too!”
💔💔💔💔💔 she knows her all too well
“I had to find out from a letter from fucking Cregan Stark. I am not leaving. You cannot make me. ”
I HATE THAT FOR HER. 🫵SAY🫵IT🫵TO🫵 MY 🫵FACE🫵
“Listen to me!” She says, shaking you hard. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to register them. “Listen to me! Luke is dead. He is dead, and you will obey me because I cannot bear to lose any more of my children. You are going North. Your Queen commands it.”
I understand her 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️😞😞😞😞😞 I hate her
He didn’t care if he appeared too eager, his usual stoicism was failing him in the face of his nerves.
GOLDEN RETRIEVER HUSBAND IM SO CONFUSED???? THIS GOT ME GIGGLING EVEN THO I WAS LIKE WHY HE EXCITED (spoiler he wasn't)
[...] playing Come-into-my-castle and Bears-and-maids. Cregan had unfortunately been the maid many more times than he preferred.
A naive little princess would never survive in the North.
??????????????? OH OK I GET IT BUT HELLO YOU HAVENT EVEN MET HER???
The Lady of Winterfell couldn’t be some frail little thing, she had to be strong. Strong enough to hold Winterfell in his absence if needed, were the threat from beyond the Wall come to pass.
YoU HAVENT EVEN MET HER MY BROTHER IN CHRIST CHILL
If he had to remarry and choose a southron, Cregan would have preferred a stronger one.
To receive the toothless dragon in his home and keep it safe. A favor, from an older brother to another. The Gods knew if Sara was near war at all, Cregan would do everything in his power to send her somewhere safe. He would be forever indebted to the man who aided him to do so.
I get you but also like ???? What are you going on about you haven't met her. ASUMERA
A true alliance. A Pact of Ice and Fire, to bound their bloodlines and keep the beloved, but defenseless sister safe.
Ok cool. Nice. This was cool but I'm mildly annoyed by cregan
Jacaerys was a serious man, no matter his dubious parentage.
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💀💀💀💀✋✋✋✋✋ MAN REALLY SAID 🫵BASTARD🫵 AND I RESPECT HIM FOR IT AHHSHAH
Cregan had offered to have his men meet you halfway, but his letter doing so had gone unanswered.
I'm pretty sure I felt bad for him but now I think deserve
The wheelhouse and the men carried so many packages that Cregan would have known you were a Princess even without expecting you. Anyone would have known.
🤨 you have a problem with her dresses country bumpkin. So what shes a city girl. Shut yo ugly trap
You were… Pitiful. Cregan understood now why Prince Jacaerys was so desperate to protect you.
I hate that for her. I hate that men around her are like sad woman come hither 👎👎👎death by being fried alive
“She brought less of a procession than you did. And less luggage.”
BROOOOOOOOOOO HES STILL GOING
“She was. By far a more practical woman.” He smiles at you, teasingly. “But if the fuss makes you happy…”
❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ NO CUZ IM GLAD SHE FOUND THE HUMOR IN THA BECAUSE I WOULD HAE BODY SLAMMED HIM LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME
Your obsession with Valyrian history and traditions had been carefully nurtured by your stepfather, Daemon.
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 MY MAN MY MY MAN MY MAN BEING A GOOD DAD????????? (BARE MINIMUM MOMENT)
When you had turned four and ten, Daemon had gifted you your very own book with Valyrian tales, a beautifully bound and illustrated edition that had followed you in your journey North.
“For you to read to your future children.”
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 DAEMON MAKING ME CRY AND BECOME SO SOFT AND NSNSSJMSSMMS
He had said, back then. You had barely flowered, so you had laughed. “I mean it, Princess. Out of my three girls, you are the only one I envision doing so.”
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
Brb giving him 1000 daughters 🏃♀️💨💨💨
The man you had married didn’t love you. He had only done so to secure an alliance. And the man already had a child of his own, an heir.
Robbed twice is crazy. Sorrows sorrows prayers
They would have learned High Valyrian, and spoke it as beautifully as your mother and stepfather did.
🥺💔💔💔💔💔 MY LOVEEEEE
You had seen enough of your mother and Daemon to know bedding someone can be pleasing.
WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SEEN *ROLLS MAGAZINE* GET OFF THE FUCKING FURNITURE YOU FUCKING HORN DOGS
“It is not a sin. But why would you..?” You question, but your Lord Husband is getting up already, huffing. He seems angered that you are unable to understand his message, whatever it might be. He storms off, leaving you confused over his behaviour.
❓❓❓❓❓❓ WHAT IS HIS PROBLEM SANA NAGSALITA DIBA OA AMP
I fear I fear I fear I need to boil him in oil.this was nawwwwt where I thought this was going but I am EAGERRRRRR to know what it's headed UGHHHHHH loveeeeeeeee
Autumn (Cregan Stark x Reader)
Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?
Warnings: Unreliable narrator!!!! Mature language. Descriptions of grief.
A/N: I was not expecting the response my silly little idea has gotten. I am very thankful for all of you who decide to read it, and would love to hear what you think of this chapter. Series masterlist here.
YOU CRUMPLE THE letter in your fist, hearing the parchment wrinkle with a satisfying sound. Then, you throw it into the flames, watching as the fire grows slightly bigger, and the ball uncurls, alight for a second, before it is fully consumed.
It doesn’t soothe you as you thought it would. The odious parchment offering you an honor guard from your future husband might be gone, but you still have to journey North before a moon since Luke’s funeral has passed.
At the thought of your brother, a sharp, stabbing pain, manifests in your chest. You choke down a sob. You had not realized you had started to measure time like this. Before and After Luke’s death, as people did with Before and After the Conquest.
Your grief only serves to fuel your rage, though. How could he? How could he demand you be wed when you were still in mourning? When you were still thinking of your sweet brother, not of keeps, and lords, and men?
“You dare!” You screech, barging inside Jacaerys’ rooms. Whatever he is doing, hunched over his desk, is interrupted. “You cannot do this to me! Mother will not allow it.”
Jace sets down his quill. He turns to look at you, his expression calm. You would think him indifferent, were it not for the fact that there is the slightest furrow of his brows.
“We need men.” He states, simply, and when you are about to interrupt him to say there are many more in the realm, he keeps speaking. “We need his men. The North is the largest kingdom, you know this as well as I. And when a Stark calls the banners, they are the only ones who respond in full.”
Your hands ball into fists. You hate that he is acting so composed, so rational. After Luke died, you felt like a chained dragon, roaring your grief and wishing to be freed to set ablaze those that had wronged you. Once, you had been as gracious as him and mother, composed even in the height of emotion. But grief has made you into live lighting, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
Your emotions are out of control. You know this. You get angered at the barest hint of an insult, you cry as easily as a newborn babe. Knowing it doesn’t stop you from lashing out, though. It only makes you regret it later.
“Our mother promised I was to have my pick of suitors, not that I would be sold like a cow!” You point an accusing finger to his chest. Jace sighs and gets up, surrounding the desk.
“I understand you are upset.” He tries offering you a hug, but you jerk away. His face hardens slightly. “But this is war.”
As if you do not know. As if you haven’t lost a sibling, too. Your face crumbles, and Jace calls your name, but hearing his voice, how similar Luke and him sound, only makes you cry harder.
“Hey, hey, it’s not so bad.” He hugs you, pressing your face against his doublet. The material is soft against your skin, and you feel tempted to let go of your rage against him and sink into his arms. Jace is barely a man, too, just as you are barely a woman. He is doing as best as he can, spread too thin by the weight of responsibility that comes with being heir. “Cregan is a good man. I got to know him during the time…”
Yes, he was doing as best as he could. But it hadn’t been his own hand that he had bartered away, had it? The insidious voice in your head asks. It isn’t him who is making a sacrifice. And such a hollow one. He claims to need men, but he won’t be getting even the full northern army.
“You sold me for a few Greybeards! Not even a proper army! Good Gods, you are a fool.” You cry out.
“Lord Stark assures me…” Jace starts, with the tone of someone who has already had this same argument. Were you thinking clearly, you would pause and realize why. Instead...
“He has put a wife in the grave already.” It is the only thing you know about him. Not much is whispered about Cregan Stark, at least, nothing concerning. You would remember it. The only thing that you know, though, is that he is a Stark and his wife is dead.
“You make it sound as if he killed her himself with his bare hands.” Jace scoffs. “I assure you, he dearly loved Arra Norrey and would have never harmed her. You know the dangers of childbirth. Perhaps even better than I.”
Perfect. He hadn’t killed the damn woman, he was just still in love with her. By the Seven, Jace was a fool. You hated being second in anything. Here, at home, you were already second to Jace, and you resented it. Being a twin meant having to share everything, including the love of those around you.
When you married, you had hoped to be the only woman in your husband’s life, not to be compared to a ghost. You had seen exactly how that went. King Viserys had never forgotten his first wife, calling for her years after her death, even as Alicent was the one to nurse him during his illness.
“He is still a widower.” You repeat, stubbornly.
Jace pinches the bride of his nose, before letting out a deep exhale. His next words are spoken extremely slowly, as if talking to a child. It makes you bristle.
“You said you were afraid of childbirth, and he already has an heir. There is no better solution.”
It would be thoughtful, were it not for the fact that:
“His first wife died in childbirth!”
As Jace prepares a scathing comeback, face scrunched up in mirrored displeasure to your own, the voice of your mother startles you both.
“What is going on here?” She asks, mouth pursed in an expression identical to Jace. The Queen looks as regal as ever, and it only serves to make you feel a tad embarrassed. With wild hair and eyes, face flushed from rage, you are sure that next to her, you must look like a wilding. “Why can the whole castle hear your quarrel?”
“It’s his fault.” You accuse, pointing at Jace.
“My fault?!” He says, placing his hands on his hips. “Apologies, I think they didn’t hear your screeching about Lord Stark in Driftmark!”
“So you informed her?” Your mother asks, calmly. Too calmly for someone who has just found out. Had it been her plan all along?
“Did you knew all along?” You whisper.
Rhaenyra turns to look at you. As always, your mother has a smile ready for you, but as of late, they are laced with sadness. This one is no exception.
“I did. I think it is for the best. You will be safer next to Cregan Stark, in Winterfell, than you could ever be here.”
You examine her expression. Her eyes are swollen and red rimmed, grief clouding her regal face. There is a certain determination in her features, a calm acceptance in her eyes, that tells you that her mind is already made.
Her face is not one of a distraught mother who will soon give her daughter away. You know her too well to mistake it for that.
“You hoped for this.” You keep your voice dangerously low, your anger threatening to bubble up in your throat. “You did because I have no dragon. I bet you are scheming to send Rhaena away too!”
Your mother doesn’t answer.
Her silence is damming. You turn to look at Jace, disbelieving. Of course the two of them had been scheming behind your back. Your brother had always been the closest one to your mother.
“And neither of you could tell me to my face?” You ask, letting out a hysterical laugh. “I had to find out from a letter from fucking Cregan Stark. I am not leaving. You cannot make me. ”
Suddenly, your mother grabs you by the shoulders. Her face is frightening, like an avenging goddess of Old Valyria. Her lips are curled back, teeth bared, and her eyes are as wild as yours.
“Listen to me!” She says, shaking you hard. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to register them. “Listen to me! Luke is dead. He is dead, and you will obey me because I cannot bear to lose any more of my children. You are going North. Your Queen commands it.”
She turns on her heel and leaves, leaving you standing on still shaking legs.
CREGAN HAD BEEN lingering near the entrance of Winterfell ever since his men had spotted the Queen’s banner on the horizon. Back then, they had expected the party to arrive in half a day. He didn’t care if he appeared too eager, his usual stoicism was failing him in the face of his nerves.
The first time Cregan had married, he had known the bride for a long time. Arra had been his childhood companion, and they had spent many moons together, playing Come-into-my-castle and Bears-and-maids. Cregan had unfortunately been the maid many more times than he preferred.
He had not feared marriage then. Spending forever chained to another person wouldn’t be so bad if that person was Arra.
Now, he did. Cregan had been content on his own, and had no desire to remarry. Even if he had, a southron princess wouldn’t have been his first choice. Though Prince Jacaerys had been honorable and dutiful, he was still naive. They were nearly of an age, but when Cregan had stood next to him, he had felt as old as his Greybeards.
A naive little princess would never survive in the North. His lords would eat her alive. The Lady of Winterfell couldn’t be some frail little thing, she had to be strong. Strong enough to hold Winterfell in his absence if needed, were the threat from beyond the Wall come to pass.
Arra had been the only woman he had thought of marrying because she had been the only woman he had thought fit to the task. She had been of the North, as he was, and it had helped him envision a future together where they ruled over the very same land that had birthed both of them.
It was only adequate that the Lady of Winterfell was a woman of the North. Southron Princesses, especially those who had been groomed to marry inside the family, could be of little help running a keep. If he had to remarry and choose a southron, Cregan would have preferred a stronger one.
Yet if wishes were dragons, beggars would soar through the skies. Prince Jacaerys had seemed a bit insulted at his offer of Greybeards, but with winter coming, it was all Cregan could spare. He was no stranger to political games, though, and knew he had to smooth down the feathers his offer had ruffled.
Hence, the offer. To receive the toothless dragon in his home and keep it safe. A favor, from an older brother to another. The Gods knew if Sara was near war at all, Cregan would do everything in his power to send her somewhere safe. He would be forever indebted to the man who aided him to do so.
And Prince Jacaerys, showing himself to be the dutiful prince and brother he was, had understood the offer for what it was. A true alliance. A Pact of Ice and Fire, to bound their bloodlines and keep the beloved, but defenseless sister safe.
It had impressed Cregan. Jacaerys was a serious man, no matter his dubious parentage. He could picture himself following him. After all, his Targaryen blood and character were the important part. That was what made him a worthy King.
Without a dragon of your own, your journey had been perilous. He knew you had ridden without banners until you had safely arrived into northern territory, a feat that had taken you a whole moon. Cregan had offered to have his men meet you halfway, but his letter doing so had gone unanswered. It had only prompted new anxieties for him.
What if he failed to fulfill his promise because you were abducted or harmed in the journey? What if the people riding with Black banners weren’t truly your honor guard, but an ambush prepared by the enemy?
Cregan doubted he would be at ease until he saw you emerge out of your wheelhouse, whole and unscathed. Hence, his waiting by the door. He would not be nervous a moment longer than he needed to.
The first thing Cregan saw was that your honor guard was smaller than he expected. He had known you would travel with a sparse escort, as to not attract undue attention. It was a miracle you had made it here with only ten guards, though. The wheelhouse and the men carried so many packages that Cregan would have known you were a Princess even without expecting you. Anyone would have known.
In contrast, the woman who stepped out of the wheelhouse wasn’t miraculous nor was she what Cregan envisioned when thinking of a Princess.
You were… Pitiful. Cregan understood now why Prince Jacaerys was so desperate to protect you. You wouldn’t survive a winter in the North, hells, it looked like a strong breeze would blow you away.
Your hair and eyes were as dark as the ones of your brother. You wore a pretty wool dress, in mourning black. The lacings on the back were done too tightly, a lot of the ribbon hanging limply, and the dress was loose around your chest and hips. It was clear you had recently lost weight, probably during the journey because the gown hadn’t been altered to fit you.
There were dark circles under your eyes, which were also red rimmed. Your skin was pale, your dark hair braided back in a severe style. Grief didn’t suit you. You looked small and sad, despite having a pleasing figure.
It didn’t help that the dress you had chosen was one far too thin for a sensible northern woman to wear. The day wasn’t even that cold, but you were already shivering. It was barely snowing, for the Gods’s sake!
Cregan approached you and gave you a bow.
“Princess.” He extended his arm to you. You took it, shivering. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”
“Pleasant enough.” At least your voice isn’t frail. The last thing Cregan needed was a soft-spoken southron lady. You even manage to smile at him, which makes you look considerably more attractive.
Cregan would admit one thing, and one thing only: Queen Rhaenyra made pretty children. Both you and Jacaerys had sinful mouths and bewitching dark eyes, though he found yours far more pleasing.
“I am sorry for your loss.” He says, as he escorts you inside Winterfell. Your trembling intensifies, instead of subsiding in the warmth of his hall. You say nothing.
When he risks a glance at your face, your eyes are suspiciously wet. You avoid meeting his eyes, even as he offers you the customary salt and bread.
“I remember when Arra got here.” Cregan offers, awkwardly. He isn’t quite sure of what to say to a grieving Princess, so he decides to share something about himself in hopes that you will open up too. He desperately needs to change the subject. Or to start a subject. He is not picky, anything that keeps you from crying will do. “She brought less of a procession than you did. And less luggage.”
“She was quite closer to home than I.” You reply, and your tone has regained strength. You no longer shake, body stiffer. Cregan decides to take it as a good sign. You are clearly struggling to get a hold of yourself, which is why you turn so tense, so he decides to keep speaking to give you some more time.
“She was. By far a more practical woman.” He smiles at you, teasingly. “But if the fuss makes you happy…”
You laugh. When he gets to know you better, Cregan will realize that your laughter wasn’t genuine.
He will also realize this had been the moment your heart iced over.
YOU PAGE THROUGH your book, in silence. Winterfell doesn’t have court musicians, and for that, you are thankful. Silence has always been your preferred companion right before bed. That, and a good book.
Your obsession with Valyrian history and traditions had been carefully nurtured by your stepfather, Daemon. Neither your mother nor siblings had much interest in your shared heritage, beyond the ability it gave them to ride dragons.
While Baela and Rhaena spoke fluid High Valyrian, the same could not be said for your brothers. As the only girl in the household, your lessons had been spent with the former and not the latter, forcing you to improve. Once you did, you had found reading the tales of old was a pleasant pastime.
You enjoyed laying in bed and imagining all the stories about magic, dragons, and empresses. When you had turned four and ten, Daemon had gifted you your very own book with Valyrian tales, a beautifully bound and illustrated edition that had followed you in your journey North.
“For you to read to your future children.” He had said, back then. You had barely flowered, so you had laughed. “I mean it, Princess. Out of my three girls, you are the only one I envision doing so.”
The day he had acknowledged you as one of his daughters, even if you didn’t share blood, was the happiest nameday you had had. He was right, too. As much as you loved the twins, you couldn’t picture them being motherly. Baela would have to have a son, to inherit after Jace, but you believed that it would be him who took charge of the more fatherly duties while she dedicated herself to statecraft. Rhaena, instead, had a thirst for adventure, to travel and know the world. Her ambition wasn’t conducive to motherhood either.
You, instead, had always dreamed of marrying a man who loved you and starting a family of your own. You envisioned yourself as the lady of a great keep, where you would rule fairly, and raise your children without wet nurses.
Those dreams had already been shattered. The man you had married didn’t love you. He had only done so to secure an alliance. And the man already had a child of his own, an heir. There was no need for you to be a mother anymore.
You turned another page of your book, watching the beautiful illustrations. You had dreamed of reading this to a little girl who looked like you, or perhaps a boy that would have looked like the man of your dreams. They would have learned High Valyrian, and spoke it as beautifully as your mother and stepfather did.
It would not come to pass. Not any longer.
A soft knock on your door makes you set down your book, closing it with great care. Then, you get up and put on your robe over your sleeping shift.
“You may enter.”
Your husband steps in, dressed for bed already. He is a handsome man, you think, biting your lower lip. Tall, dark and handsome, Cregan is the sort of man your childhood self would have pictured marrying.
He could have been the perfect man to fall in love with, were it not for the fact that he would never love you back. He already loved someone else, someone who you could never aspire to match. His first wife, Lady Arra.
As Alicent had learned, it was impossible to overshadow a ghost. Dead as she was, she could never make mistakes. He would forget all her imperfections.
She gave him a child, she was the wife he chose. The one he married for love, not duty. A practical, northern woman his bannermen had surely liked far more as a match to him than a soft southron princess who didn’t even have a dragon.
“I was wondering if you would welcome my company tonight, Princess.” Your husband says, voice emotionless. He is only here because of duty, it seems. “We could share the bed.”
“You said we could wait to consummate our union.” You keep your voice firm. It is not a task you anticipate eagerly, but you are not afraid of it either. You had seen enough of your mother and Daemon to know bedding someone can be pleasing. It is only the awkwardness of doing so with a stranger that puts you off.
“I was not referring to that.” Your husband says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “The nights are cold in Winterfell. Is it wrong for a man to seek closeness to his wife?”
You frown. His behavior is most puzzling. He intends to share your bed… To sleep? Your mother shared her bed with Daemon, but she also bedded him. It makes no sense to you that he wants to sleep next to you without touching you. Most marriages don’t do that. Much less if they are political matches.
“It is not a sin. But why would you..?” You question, but your Lord Husband is getting up already, huffing. He seems angered that you are unable to understand his message, whatever it might be. He storms off, leaving you confused over his behaviour.
That night, Cregan dreams of running. Of having a snout covered in blood, of jumping into the river, trying to trap a seahorse.
He never manages to. Wolves aren’t meant to hunt seahorses.
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