#emma stone face claim

[poncikbruiser]

[fakesocialmediaa]

JustJared

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JustJared Actor Andrew Garfield was spotted looking rather cozy with fellow spiderman costar y/n l/n the pair were spotted eating dinner and hugging before leaving together link in our bio for more on this story

Y/n L/n

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Itsmey/n life lately I made a movie met a guy and fell in love oh and my new favorite thing in using my boyfriend’s face as a bookmark ❤️

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Andrew Garfield

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Andrew Garfield Date night with the prettiest girl

Tagged Itsmey/n

Itsmey/n you make my heart smile ❤️

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Request: maybe some andrew garfield with emma stone as the y/n face claim?? and they met on the set of spiderman? thank you 🫶🫶🫶

[vindikaetion]

"They say there's a dragon in the woods.

It wasn’t always a dragon. Before it stalked the woods and became its most powerful predator, it used to be a statue.

Sailors first discovered it among their fishing lines, the rocky surface somehow flawless despite how long it made its home in the sea. They brought it back with them along with their bountiful catch, sure it would provide good luck to their village if they displayed it in the square.

For many years it watched over the town, keeping a silent eye over the children while their fathers were away at work. The villagers kept the statue clean, polishing its smooth stone and wiping away dirt and snow alike.

Then one day, a crack formed down its chest.

The villagers panicked, pandemonium breaking out and shrouding the town in fear. Who had done it? Who had cracked their prized statue, which brought them good luck and prosperity?

A day later, the crack had widened, webbing down its torso and over its shoulders. Accusations were tossed from one villager to the next, until every family was whispering bitter gossip behind each other's backs.

Cracks started to form in its wings, and a guard was placed to catch whoever was vandalizing the statue. But even that wasn't able to stop the cracks from widening, spreading further still.

Was time simply claiming their beloved statue? Or were there more sinister motives at play?

Deep in the night, when the lone guard had fallen into a deep sleep, a gasp tore through the silence of the square. Not a single soul was awake enough to hear it, not even when the statue took another breath.

A scream awoke the rest of the village the next morning, and when they all came running to see the comotion, they discovered the statue was gone.

Some say the dragon still lurks in the woods, keeping a close eye on the town. If you're lucky enough, you can even find one of its paw prints in the dead of winter; a sign that it's in the middle of a hunt."

A huff broke the quiet after a long pause.

"That's dumb," Emma pouted.

Jack wrinkled his nose, but his smile never left his face. "I'm sorry, are my story-telling skills getting old?"

“Why would everyone think the statue turned into a real dragon?” Emma questioned, crossing her arms in that know-it-all way she was getting fond of. “Those are myths. Just like your story.”

“Well, for one thing, my story isn’t a myth.”

With a squint of her eyes, Emma frowned. “How do you know?”

Jack smiled. Leaning forward, he held up a hand as if to make sure no one else would overhear what he was about to say. Emma leaned in towards him with wide eyes, always keen to hear more of his stories no matter how much she pretended otherwise. “You wanna know how I know?” he whispered.

Emma nodded, and his grin widened.

“I was there.”

-

Hey y'all what started as a sketch to see how Hiccup would look as a half-dragon spiraled and then me and @hijacksecrets ended up making an entire backstory around it. I hope you like the mysteries in our little blurb :33

[girlcrushart]

The last time I posted Emma Stone was right after watching Poor Things, which was incredible (I've since watched it again because I loved it so much). And last time I used a sexy elegant studio shot of Emma, but had also collected this pic bc it was a prime candidate for a gircrush poster for a variety of reasons . First there's Emma's outfit, which is, like 100% for me. And this is a pic of her just out and about in the world trying to mind her own business, so she likely chose this outfit herself and clearly she's trying to impress the lesbians. Well, it worked, Emma. It worked. And like I mentioned, it's just a pic of her out and about—basically a paparazzi pic, so the background is dreadful and unconsidered, so a great candidate for a poster. However, I tend to shy away from those kinds of pics bc, you know, gross. I saw that Britney documentary. But I made an exception with this one bc I love how annoyed Emma looks. Like, you can just hear her saying "just fuck off with your cameras, assholes. I'm just going grocery shopping for christ's sake." And when a girl looks that hot when she's making that face, it just kinda breaks something inside of me. I know, it's hypocritical of me to claim I hate pics like this while using a pic like this, but in my defence I'm using it ironically because Emma's expression is helping communicate how we both feel about pics like this? Have I argued my way into a corner? In my defence: very hot girl in plaid and jeans makes it difficult to form cohesive sentences. The defence rests. Today's girlcrushart guardian is Emma Stone.

[drdemonprince]

TV Glow was devastating. incredibly effective visually, thematically, and performance-wise. Schoenbrun has leveled up in a major way since World's Fair, which I felt like I was five years too old for, both in terms of references and from having seen too much weird shit in this life to be impressed by her version of what's "scary" online.

This movie was far more creatively ambitious and emotionally resonance -- it having a bigger budget certainly helped stretch its legs, and Schoenbrun used it to its fullest.

Justice Smith's acting made me want to cry. He shows a true reverence for the material that few cis actors would; far from viewing the character as a little exercise, he transforms into her discomfort and sadness. His little voice warbles and the way his face softens with hope at a few crucial moments made my heart break for him, knowing already that the dreams he'd barely let himself hold onto would never come true.

I can't believe an Emma Stone produced wide release movie is about transgender egg drama here in 2024. jarring for something that once felt so private and esoteric to be broadly relatable to audiences now. it's fitting, given the movie is about a mass-release TV show that a handful of tender freaks think must be about something so much more than this world would ever let it be. kind of a funny trick there.

is this a movie about depressed isolated queer people whose minds curdle around a random media property because loneliness makes the brain turn inward and eat itself? or is it the tragic tale of a woman who never realized her destiny and allowed the matrix to keep plugging her repeatedly back in?

you can read it both ways at once and it's best if you do. some equipped with fandom goggles with elect to see it only in the more fantastical light.

There are already dozens of people coming out as transgender for the first time in their lives in the Letterboxd reviews of this film, saying they recognize their repression in Owen, their egg at last busted open by this heartbreaking tale of a life unfulfillingly lived. I get it -- before I transitioned, the same thing happened to me with Casey Plett's incredible story collection, A Safe Girl to Love. There is something painfully enchanting about the forever-unrealized trans person whose suffering we imagine would be escapable if only they could admit who they are.

But what do you do when you have overcome your fear of being "crazy," left your old world behind, and passed through that veil to become the person you were always meant to be, only to find that you are still stoop-shouldered and awkward, still overlooked with your heart cut out of you, apologizing to others for your asthma in between your death rattles? What if you never get all the poison out? After you figure out you're a hero from another dimension, what will you do if you can never get back?

I find myself asking these things, as a person who used to fantasize that transitioning would solve all my problems. The imagined future transitioned me felt so distant that it was easy to push him off. And then after years passed, when I finally reached out to claim him, I discovered he was just as awkward, lonesome, insecure, and unhappy as I was, because he was just me. If i'd always been transgender, then I'd always been unhappy for deeply transgender reasons back then, too, and I'd already known a whole lot more about what it meant to be me than I'd thought that I had. Fantasies had been a seductive distraction from the world that was trying to kill me, and they suffocated me whether I denied them or if I believed in them.

This is a movie about fantasies, and the suburbs, and about being transgender. And it's bleak, but I think some who are on the cusp of making the same realizations as Owen can't fully know why yet. Life on the other side of knowing is more liveable, but I can't explain why. It didn't make things better. It wasn't the great escape I had hoped. But it did force me to confront who I was and how many monsters there always had been all around me. And that's better than living in a fantasy.

[tinycoded360]

Sterling Household-Acorns

The Borrowfield family huddled in the cozy confines of their wall. Milton's voice was low but animated as he outlined the afternoon's mission to his attentive brood.

“We will be gathering acorns for Emma," Milton said, his brow furrowed in determination. "She was kind to share her knowledge and supplies with us. Now, we repay her generosity."

"Remember, we move together, and we watch out for one another," Cassia added, her maternal eyes scanning each of her children, from the responsible Agnes to the wide-eyed Finn. The siblings nodded, understanding their task's importance and its dangers.

As they ventured into the backyard, the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. 

Milton led the way, spear at the ready, his sharp eyes scanning for threats. Cassia mirrored his vigilance on the flank, her own weapon poised. Acorns lay scattered across the grass like treasures waiting to be claimed, their brown shells gleaming in the soft light. To the Borrowfields, these were not mere seeds but sustenance, the size of small melons that promised nourishment.

"Look, there's a cluster over there!" Pippin whispered eagerly, pointing towards a bounty beneath an oak’s sprawling roots.

"Quietly now," Milton reminded him, even as he shared his son's excitement.

Agnes and Lila moved gracefully, their small hands working deftly to gather the acorns. They synchronized their efforts when they rolled the heavy nuts one by one toward the bag. Finn, his little legs struggling to keep up, pushed with all his might, his face screwed up in determination.

"Good job, Finn!" Lila encouraged, her gentle voice bolstering her brother's spirits.

"Into the bag, carefully now," Cassia directed as she helped hoist an acorn over the rim. The big bag slowly swelled with their foraged goods.

A shadow passed overhead, a bird on the hunt, and Milton tensed, spear lifted. The children froze, but the danger passed, the creature unaware of the tiny family below.

"Let's get these back to Emma," Milton said, satisfied with their haul. Together, they hoisted the hefty bag, shoulders touching, each bearing the weight.

When they arrived at Emma's portion of the wall leading into the basement, Cassie tugged on a string hanging down from a wooden panel. Emma had created this to trigger a doorbell-like system, announcing any friendly arrivals.

"Who is it?" came the muffled voice from the other side, feigning ignorance despite knowing full well who would visit at this hour.

"It's us, Emma," Lila chimed, unable to contain her excitement.

The panel slid open, revealing Emma's smiling face. "My, my, what have we here?" she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling as they fell upon the bulging bag.

"We've brought you acorns, Emma," Pippin said proudly, puffing out his chest a little as he spoke.

"Such a treat! And such fine company," Emma beamed, stepping aside to allow them entry into her cozy abode.

"Thank you, dear friends," Emma continued, her hands clasping over her heart. "Your visits mean more to me than any feast."

Milton set the bag down with a soft thud. "We couldn't forget you, Emma. Not when you've guided us through so much."

Emma wasted no time preparing to work; her movements were practiced and sure. She cracked the acorns with a well-worn stone, deft fingers prying open the shells to reveal the tender meat within. A small fire crackled in a makeshift hearth, carefully enclosed by stones scavenged from the basement area. As Emma stirred a dollop of honey into a tiny iron pan, the Borrowfields' eyes widened at the sight of the golden syrup melting over the heat.

"Just a touch of sweetness." She tossed the acorn meats into the pan, and they sizzled as they met the honey. The cozy space began to fill with the comforting aroma of nuts roasting.

Lila's nose, twitching at the delicious smell, tugged at her father's shirt. "Papa," she said, gleaming of mischief in her eye, "what do you think about getting more acorns? We could have honey-roasted nuts for days!"

Finn, ever the shadow of his sister's ambition, nodded vigorously. "Yes, please! Let’s go now!" His tiny voice was full of yearning for another adventure.

Milton glanced down at his children, his expression softening with affection even as he shook his head. "No, Lila, Finn. We've gathered plenty today," he replied, his voice firm yet gentle.

Cassia came to stand beside her husband, laying a hand on each child's head. "It's too risky to go out again, especially alone.”

Not satisfied with this answer, the two youngest children waited until the adults were lost in conversation, and Emma was absorbed in her culinary craft.

"Come on," Lila whispered, her voice barely a flutter as she tugged at Finn's sleeve. His wide-eyed nod betrayed his eagerness as they slipped away.

The backyard was a wild realm of towering grass blades and looming flowers, and the setting sun cast long shadows across the terrain.

"Look, Lila!" Finn exclaimed in a whisper, pointing towards a particularly plump acorn nestled at the base of a dandelion.

"Careful, Finn," Lila cautioned, but her warning was tinged with pride at her brother's keen eye.

Their collection grew, and each acorn was carefully selected and placed into the pouch. 

Whiskers, with her sleek coat and piercing eyes, had spotted the tiny intruders in her domain. Her tail twitched with predatory interest, her gaze fixed on Lila and Finn as if they were nothing more than mice to be toyed with.

"Run!" Lila shouted, her voice breaking the spell of silence as fear surged through her veins.

Finn's hand clenched around hers, his little legs pumping furiously as they dashed for the safety of the wall. Whiskers pounced forward, her movements graceful and lethal—a striking contrast to the panic-stricken scramble of the Borrowfield siblings.

"Quickly, Finn!" Lila urged, her breath coming in sharp gasps. She could feel the cat's presence closing in, a whisper of danger on the breeze.

"Almost there!" Finn cried, his determination burning bright despite his trembling limbs.

Lila dared a look back, her heart thundering against her chest as Whiskers leapt, her claws extending in anticipation of the catch.

They darted toward the house, their minuscule legs pumping furiously as Whiskers gained on them. The cat's paw swiped out, missing Finn by mere inches.

Panic surged through Lila's tiny form as she darted with Finn in tow, darting between the blades. Whiskers was upon them in moments, her paw batting at the siblings with a casual cruelty that sent them tumbling across the ground. The cat's claws snagged Lila's dress, ripping it as they made their desperate bid for freedom.

"Stay behind me!" Lila gasped, pushing Finn down into a small hollow beneath a fallen leaf. But Whiskers was relentless, her playful mauling a terrifying ordeal for the Borrower children. With each swipe of her massive paw, Finn wailed, his tears mingling with the dirt on his face.

Lila, driven by a fierce protective instinct, swung her tiny arm, aiming futile blows at the cat's unyielding sides. Her efforts were fruitless; to Whiskers, she was nothing but a mouse, a plaything to be subdued and toyed with. The cat's paw came down hard, pinning Lila to the earth. Terror seized her heart as Whiskers leaned in, her fangs piercing Lila's leg. A sharp cry escaped her lips as she grappled with the agony and fear that she might be eaten.

"Please, no," Lila screamed, her leg on fire. She could see Finn, tears streaming down his face, rooted to the spot by fear.

"Whiskers! No! Bad cat!" The thunderous command came from above as Sterling, the giant human, stormed into view. His massive hand scooped up Whiskers, lifting her away from the Borrowfield children with ease.

"Drop it," he ordered sternly, and Whiskers complied, releasing Lila as if she were nothing but a plaything. Sterling held the cat in his arms, his gaze locked on the tiny figures below. Concern etched deep lines on his forehead, his eyes betraying the struggle within.

"Go on, scoot," he murmured, giving the children time to escape. Lila, her leg bleeding, clutched Finn close and hobbled away as fast as their little legs would carry them.

Sterling watched from the corner of his eye, noting the trail of crimson drops left by the tiny girl. His heart clenched, and for a moment, the urge to intervene, to scoop them up and offer aid, nearly overtook him. He had become aware of the tiny people living in his home about a week ago. He had chosen to ignore them, hoping they would be comfortable enough to make themselves known to him one day. He didn’t want to scare them off by trying to capture them.

Taking advantage of the moment, Lila grabbed Finn's hand, pulling him to his feet. They stumbled towards the crack in the wall, their escape a mixture of pain and determination. Lila felt the weight of the giant's gaze upon them, but he did not move.

As the siblings slipped into the safety of the wall, Sterling straightened up and returned to his home with his cat.

In the safety of the wall, Lira held her little brother close.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Finn hiccuped. "The adventure wasn't fun," he mumbled into her shoulder. “At least the giant didn’t get us; I don’t even think he saw us!”

Lila bit her lip, glancing at her brother. He didn't need to know the truth — that the giant's eyes had met theirs. It would be her secret; she didn’t want to cause her family to move.

Before they could rise, Milton and Cassia were upon them. Arms enveloped the small, shaken bodies, lifting them into a warm embrace.

"Never again," Cassia muttered, her voice a mix of anger and desperation. "You must understand, never again."

"Sorry, Mama," Finn mumbled, burying his face into her shoulder.

"Sorry," echoed Lila, the single word encapsulating the weight of her regret.

Her father put a hand on her shoulder. His expression was stern, but his eyes were kind. "You disobeyed us and put yourself and your brother in danger. You won't be going on more adventures for a long time, young lady."

Lila nodded, blinking back tears. "I understand."

"But we're just glad you made it back to us." Her father hugged her, and Lila buried her face in his shoulder, relief and guilt warring inside her.

She winced as Milton scooped her up, his eyes quickly assessing the crimson stain spreading down her leg. Cradling her close, he whispered reassurances meant more for himself than for her. "You'll be alright, my brave little girl."

They retreated further into the safety of Emma's dwelling.

Lila winced as Emma dabbed at the bite mark on her leg with a damp cloth, sterilizing the wound.

"There, there," Emma said gently.

Agnes gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You were so brave, Lila. We're proud of you for protecting Finn like that."

Lila managed a watery smile. Her sister always knew the right thing to say.

At last, Emma finished bandaging their injuries. "All done. Now, let's get you some of those acorn nuts. Food will help take your mind off the pain, and Milton brought back some willow bark from his last trip. I can make a poultice to help with swelling and relieve discomfort."

Milton held Lila snugly against his chest, her tiny form cradled by his sturdy arms. She savored the sweetness of the acorn nut in her mouth, the rich taste momentarily distracting her from the throbbing in her leg. Milton kissed the top of her head, his voice barely above a whisper. "Next time I'm out, I'll bring back some pain medicine for you," he promised, stroking her hair.

On Cassia's lap, Finn burrowed closer, his small body seeking the solace of his mother's warmth. Her fingers traced soothing circles on his back, lulling him into a state of calm after the day's harrowing events. His eyes fluttered closed, the earlier tears replaced by the drooping lids.

Across the room, Agnes and Pippin engaged in lively conversation with Emma, their voices bubbling with laughter and punctuated by the crunch of the acorn nuts. They spoke of trivial things.

Lila's sniffles broke through the contented hum of conversation. Milton pulled her even closer.

"Everything's going to be alright," he reassured her.

Chapter 3

[bi-bard]

Unreal Unearth - Hozier Writing Challenge Masterlist

Hello! Here's the writing challenge masterlist for Hozier's "Unreal Unearth".

This is easily one of the most beautiful albums I've ever listened to it. It is full of gorgeous lyrics and music. I hope that the stories I have constructed for it can reflect that.

I hope you guys enjoy these stories!

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

De Selby (Pt. 1)

And Sit Unseen, With Only the Inner Upheld Jack Kline X Reader [Supernatural] Summary: Two Nephilims find themselves taking shelter with the Winchesters. However, no safety and security could match up to true connection and understanding.

De Selby (Pt. 2)

I Wanna Fade Away with You Dick Grayson X Reader [HBO's Titan] Summary: (Y/n) and Dick's connection was one to be envied. By friends and family and anyone who had known them. This connection is good until it seems to be turning Dick into someone different. Now, the biggest question is whether or not that change is bad.

First Time

Some Part of Me Came Must Have Died the Final Time You Called Me, "Baby" Joel Miller X Reader [HBO's The Last of Us] Summary: Joel is offered a rare glimpse of hope after the apocalypse had started. However, the universe can pull away signs of hope just as fast it can offer them.

Francesca

If I Could Hold You for a Minute, I'd Go Through It Again Charles Rowland X Witch!Reader [Dead Boy Detectives] Summary: Whoever claimed that risking your life was only for the living had never seen the true devotion of a ghost before.

I, Carrion (Icarian)

But If We Fall, I Only Pray, Don’t Fall Away from Me Captain Sean Renard X Reader [Grimm] Summary: (Y/n)'s new reality forces many secrets to come to light and many decisions to be reconsidered.

Eat Your Young

It's Quicker and Easier to Eat Your Young Peaky Blinders X Child!Reader [Peaky Blinders] Summary: A new gang attempts to put down roots in Birmingham, much to the displeasure of the Shelbys. However, as tensions rise, more is revealed about this new gang... including some concerning cracks in the foundation.

Damage Gets Done

You and I Had Nothing to Show but the Best of the World in the Palm of Our Hand Daisy Jones X Reader [Daisy Jones & the Six] Summary: In which two dear friends find themselves face-to-face years after they lost contact with each other and it's as if a day had never truly passed. Except that it did. The only question will be what they will do now that it had and they were both such different people.

Who We Are

And the Hardest Part is Who We Are Nikolai Lantsov X Reader [Shadow & Bone] Summary: A long line of unfortunate events leads two old friends to learn more about each other and themselves.

Son of Nyx

Son of Nyx Hannibal Lecter X Reader [NBC's Hannibal] Summary: An exploration of two forms of grief; one for a death that occurred long ago and one for a death that is set in stone but has not yet occurred.

All Things End

And Just Knowin' that Everything Will End Should Not Change Our Plans Merlin X Reader [BBC's Merlin] Summary: A story of love, loss, and accepting the inevitable.

To Someone From a Warm Climate (Uiscefhuarithe)

And I Wish I Could Say that the Rive of My Arms Have Found the Ocean Kaz Brekker X Reader [Shadow & Bone] Summary: Time can be essential in earning trust. If only it didn't take a matter of seconds to lose that very trust.

Butchered Tongue

A Butchered Tongue Still Singin' Here Above the Ground Morgana X Reader [BBC's Merlin] Summary: Morgana escapes from Camelot after her attempt to tear apart the kingdom and kill Uther. Now alone, she finds some kindness in (Y/n), who may end up being far more important than Morgana would have ever considered.

Anything But

I Would Do Everything Just to Run Away Mr. Knightley X Reader [Emma. (2020)] Summary: Mr. Knightley's eyes seem to lock onto an old friend of Emma's. Said old friend's eyes seem to lock on any of the potential exits around them. Some may be able to read between the lines. However, some people require a far more direct response.

Abstract (Psychopomp)

All My Love and Terror Balanced Between Those Eyes Will Graham X Reader [NBC's Hannibal] Summary: A collection of nightmares that have been haunting Will the most recently.

Unknown/Nth

And There are Some People, Love, Who are Better Unknown The Master X Reader [Doctor Who] Summary: [End of Season 12] The Master was known for doing whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. However, after so much time together, (Y/n) wanted to believe that they would be offered some kind of mercy. Oh, how wrong they were.

First Light

But After This I'm Never Gonna Be the Same and I Am Never Going Back Again Eleventh Doctor X Reader [Doctor Who] Summary: (Y/n) had never known true peace like they did with the Doctor. They had never known such support, such acceptance, such love. What will happen when (Y/n) learns that their perfect existence isn't all that they thought it was?

UNREAL UNEARTH: UNHEARD

Too Sweet

You're Too Sweet For Me Kya Clark X Reader [Where the Crawdads Sing] Summary: Kya meets another outcast. Though less known than Kya's seemed to be, (Y/n)'s reputation is one that seemed to follow them to all places except for the places that they go with Kya. Even though it seemed like nothing could stop them from growing closer, there may be a line that the two of them can't cross without their reputations getting in the way.

Wildflower and Barley

I Swear It Will Be Buried in Words Connell Waldron X Reader [Normal People] Summary: For many, going to university can be a time of self-discovery and new connections. For others, it can be the most isolating experience of their lives. That had been the experience for both Connell and (Y/n). What happens when two very lonely, very scared people find themselves forced to face that loneliness without hiding from themselves and each other.

Empire Now

The Future's so Bright It's Burnin' Harley Quinn X Reader [Birds of Prey] Summary: The fall of Sionis leaves room for the rise of Harley. A rise that will forever be known by anyone who walks the streets of Gotham.

Fare Well

Let the Sun Only Shine on Me Through a Fallin' Sky Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto X Reader [The Bear] Summary: Two damaged people make a series of impulsive decisions that may lead to their downfalls... but at least it felt good in the moment. ----------------------

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[kimhargreeves]

Ordinary World (Official Fanfic Book. Ken Carson x Reader. Barbie 2023)

Summary: Every Barbie has it's Ken and every Ken has it's Barbie. (Y/N) isn't an ordinary Barbie and doesn't have a Ken, the one she's in love with is stereotypical Barbie's Ken. But a journey into the real world changes not only her life but those around her, will she finally be accepted for being different from the rest of the Barbie's in their perfect world?

(This is an Reader x Ken story. Based on the one shot of the same name!! This story will be entirely available on Wattpad and Ao3. I know I have a face claim for how Reader should look like since I like to include a bit of myself into my books. I myself am a goth/pastel lover and find that goths don't get included into books. So you can ignore the face claim for the book and imagine your own Barbie as you'd like.)

(I know the book may not bee 100% accurate to the movie but I'll try my best on writing it. Below are the face claims!)

Emma Stone as (Y/N), or also known as Creepy Barbie or Weird Barbie #2

"Maybe I'm not good enough."

Ryan Gosling as Ken Carson

"Where I see love, she sees a friend"

Margot Robbie as Barbie

"Do you guys ever think about death?"

Kate McKinnon as Weird Barbie

“She’s not dead, she’s just having an existential crisis.”

America Ferrera as Gloria

"Barbie in the real world. That's impossible."

Simu Liu as #2 Ken

"Looks like this beach was a little too much for you Ken."

Michael Cera as Allan

"Hi, Barbie."

Issa Rae as President Barbie

"Okay ladies, let's do this!"

And John Cena as Merman Barbie

[hogwarts-legacy-alice-cassowary]

Hogwarts Legacy MC Face Claims

My Hogwarts Legacy Character's face claims.

I saw someone do this, accidentally refreshed the page, and instantly forgot who it was. If I find their post, I will tag them. <3

Alice Cassowary - Elle Fanning

Specifically Elle Fanning as Empress Catherine the Great from The Great, and Aurora from Disney's Maleficent.

Karen Heinous - Charlotte (TheNurseryNurse on TikTok)

Charlotte specifically as her character Autumn Knight.

Marjorie Festus - Emma Stone

Specifically Emma Stone as Estella (Cruella)

Diaval Knight - Bryan Dechart

[vettelsvee]

hi everyone! vee appearing once again :)

i decided to create a community (i think is a new feature on tumblr, pls correct me if i'm wrong) since i wanted to get close to you, specially to those of you who might read my works. if you wanna join, feel free to do it :)

first of all, i apologize for not posting any fics, but as you might have seen i'm working on a f1 fic universe with my two f1 writing besties and honestly, it's lots of planning, editing, promoting and, of course, writing and translating into english so you all can read it. i'm so excited about this project even tough is too overwhelming sometimes!

however, apart from my tortured drivers department, my mind has been think a lot about a seb au fic with him as peter parker x reader (yes, face claim would be emma stone because i REALLY like them together ever since I started writing History series and i started using emma as di). idk who of you would read it, but i think i'll post it anyways 🤓

i'd like to tell you more about my life but since i finished uni i feel like i'm on like kind of a social media detox, which has been so nice actually! on the other hand, i have lots of ideas about content creation far from writing f1 fics, but it'll flop so it'll stay in my mind.

hope you all are doing great, and hopefully see you soon with spidey!seb <3

[kittyphoenix12-xx]

WIP Word Game

Rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

thanks to @thatgirlwithasquid for tagging me with the word SWEET <3 ily

S - try it once more (with feeling) (Kurtbastian, Glee)

Sebastian Smythe was in love with Kurt Hummel. And here he stood, twenty-nine years old, in love for the first (and probably the last) time, the best man to a vow renewal for a relationship that wasn’t working. Kurt and Blaine were a car crash turned concerning car pile-up, every minute they were still together added another car to the dumpster fire. Here’s the thing, and Sebastian can acknowledge the less positive aspects of his personality (used to pride himself with it, in fact), he’s a completely biased person.

W - awakened and found again (Gen, Glee)

When Sue saw that greasy, boy-band haired William Shuester walk into McKinley, proud and satisfied grin on his face, she decided, without a doubt, that she’d ruin his day. She watched as he greeted a bunch of the bone-headed Neanderthals by the trash, ignoring the small figure held in their grasp. Sue didn’t care about the students that she taught, but Shue did (or he claimed too, seeing as he walked by the twink without saying anything). As he entered the school, she exited her office and followed him to the staffroom. Big-eyed Bambi greeted him with a wave as she wiped down the table (Sue had once suggested that they stopped hiring janitors and instead just let Emma clean everything).

E - The Hawkins Mystery (Hellcheer, Harringrove, Buckleway - ST)

Eddie lived in Hawkins all his life and lived with the knowledge that there was something wrong with it. There had always been something sinister surrounding the town, with its dark forests and long winding roads. As shadows stretched into the night and each house grew dark with sleep, the forests and darkness came to life with something cold that settled in Eddie’s bones. The trailer camp was by the thickest edge of the forest, near Lover’s Lake and Skull Rock, but closed in by the circle of trees whose branches seemed to loom over them. Sometimes, in the beginning years after his dad went to prison, Eddie would sit on the steps of Uncle Wayne’s trailer and stare into the forest. If he listened closely, and let his imagination run wild, Eddie thought he could hear monsters in the woods. Sometimes they sounded like his dad.

E - The Lighthouse Keeper and The Mermaid (BuckTommy, 911)

“Evan,” he says, watching the man before him poke at the food on his plate, “I think you look like an Evan.” “Evan,” the other says, name rolling off his tongue, teeth blunt and human. “What does it mean?” “Mean?” Tommy thinks for a moment, mind running back through the baby-name book Howard was pouring through. “Bringer of good news or young warrior or gracious.” Evan grunts around the bacon in his mouth, he hums, chews and swallows. “Good news,” he says satisfied. “No-one has said that before.”

T - Naruto Lives Alone (Gen, Naruto)

The night was cool and crisp as the smouldering remains of the hospital finally began to dissipate. It was silent as the shinobi picked through the rubble, unearthing comrades and civilians alike, injured or dead in the wake of the Kyuubi’s destruction. Kakashi leapt deftly from a semi-collapsed rooftop, over most of the destruction, landing on the stone of the fallen hospital. It crumbled beneath his feet, but he didn’t care as he stumbled over to where two bodies lay. His heart was in his throat as he drew nearer, desperately straining to hear any noise, any slight movement to indicate that Kushina and Minato were alive. There was low wailing.

imma tag @elledelajoie @salty-autistic-writer @nachtwaechterin @half-oz-eddie and anyone else who wants to ramble with the word BEACH

[dear-mrs-otome]

Silvio Ricci - Main Story - Chp 13

Standard Disclaimer: I do this for fun. I don’t, and never would, claim to be proficient at JP. There will be mistakes herein. There will be dialogue I choose to smooth out or change, because it feels choppy just straight translating. There will be the occasional snarky aside and irreverence and just plain summarizing. If you’re looking for 100% pure accuracy, without commentary or localizing, this is not for you. If you don’t mind that…then proceed, and I hope you enjoy! And please, support your local localizer (they make this stuff look easy) and Cybird by playing the games and routes when they come to English.

With Emma and Silvio having been led off by the auction manager, Gilbert is left alone with Rio. He saunters in and takes a seat, declaring that he has a special story to tell Rio…but Rio rejects his offer flatly.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I haven’t even said a single word yet,” Gilbert rebuts, amused.

Rio’s very aware of Gilbert’s deviousness though, and he tells him that he’s not interested in having anything to do with something that would make it hard for him to face Emma. Gilbert praises him for being every inch the ‘loyal hound’ he’s heard spoken of…but he reassures Rio that his underhanded deeds will prove a boon to Rio.

He tips his head and offers Rio a smile. “You love Miss Bunny, don’t you. Not as a friend or as her butler - you’ve been in love with her these past three years.”

Rio’s surprise shows on his face, as Gilbert goes on, laying out how Rio’s been able to smile the way he does today, despite not having his memories, because of Emma. “But you used to be quite the cocky little pup, just like Silvio, no? I envy you for falling in love and changing who you are,” Gilbert finishes on a laugh.

A stone-faced Rio asks who told Gilbert that, but all the Obsidian prince will tell him is that it’s a secret. He lords his bit of information over Rio, before Rio connects the dots and says he gets it - Gilbert has someone in the inner circle as an informant, doesn’t he?

Gilbert refuses to confirm or deny this, and instead turns the conversation back on Rio’s unrequited yearning, saying how he knows Rio’s been good and held himself back all this time despite how much he loves Emma. How obvious it is that Rio desperately wants her to see him as a man, to love him back. “But someone else has been getting in the way lately, hasn’t he?” Gilbert questions.

“...Are you talking about Prince Silvio?” Rio asks.

“Yes. You must be in a panic, afraid the little bunny will be whisked away by some other guy. Afraid that you’ll be robbed of something precious, again.”

Rio flinches at that and frowns, clutching his head as if struggling against something welling up inside of him.

“Frustrating and miserable, isn’t it. You’ve made up your mind that if Miss Bunny is happy, that’s all that matters. But on the other hand, you want to be happy too,” Gilbert presses.

“You’re wrong,” Rio insists.

“I don’t like lies.” Gilbert brushes Rio’s denial off with a smile. “I don’t think it’s something be a ashamed of. It’s perfectly natural for anyone to feel that way. But Silvio’s not going to quit while you wrestle with this - he’s trying to snare Miss Bunny’s heart and make it his. Is it really just about something as trivial as ‘annoying’ you? Haven’t you thought, countless times, about making Silvio disappear? Thought that, if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have to feel this way?”

Clouds shift outside, blocking out the sun and casting the room in pallor. 

Rio, however, calmly and without hesitation, denies Gilbert’s prodding and says that he has no intention of sticking his nose into his lady’s personal life and relationships. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned, when the other person involved is Silvio, but there’s nothing wrong with them getting to know each other better."

“Hmm…I see,” Gilbert says.

“Was that all you wished to discuss, Prince Gilbert?” Rio asks.

 

A smiling Gilbert says no, no need to rush. They’ve got plenty of time to kill - Silvio and Emma won’t be back anytime soon. This merely confirms Rio’s suspicion that Gilbert arranged the whole thing to get him alone, and he points out how this also means Gilbert’s connected to the auction manager as well. 

“You never meant to hide it, did you?” Rio accuses.

A laughing Gilbert says he’s half right. “It’s true that I didn’t intend to keep this a secret - because Chevalier already knows all about it.”

This surprises Rio, and Gilbert tells him that Chevalier knows and does nothing about it - or it would be more correct to say, he can’t do anything about it. “You might want to investigate this auction thoroughly as well,” he advises Rio. “But you won’t find any trace of my involvement.

Rio says that just shows how cocky Gilbert it, and his blunt speak amuses the Obsidian prince. Rio brings up how it was Keith that gave them the invitation, but Gilbert assures him Keith has no involvement in this - the invitation was simply his way of showing his good intentions.

“Although, whether his ‘good intentions’ was simply offering the chance to appreciate some fine jewelry, or to expose the misdeeds of some Rhodolitians, I can’t say,” Gilbert admits, owning that he just heard of the situation and made use of it.

Steering things back to the main topic, Gilbert asks how Rio intends to get his hands on Miss Bunny.

“What do you mean by that?” Rio asks.

“Exactly what it sounds like. I’m saying that I’ll support your efforts at love here,” Gilbert insists.

Rio accuses him of yanking his chain, but Gilbert reminds him how he hates lying. “Silvio’s been a little too fixated on Miss Bunny lately. I can’t have him turning coward on me, and that’s where you come in. I want the happy union of you and Miss Bunny to bring him back to his senses…that’s why I don’t mind helping you.”

Rio frowns, and denies needing Gilbert’s ‘assistance’, which has Gilbert laughing and pointing out that he and Silvio said the same thing. He tells Rio not to worry, there’s no rush here - as long as Rio remembers that Gilbert’s on his side, that’s fine enough.

“But, I’ll leave you with what I foresee happening,” Gilbert warns, leaning in close to speak into Rio’s ear. “Silvio will steal what you hold most dear…and it will be too late for regrets then.”

Rio only scowls in silence at that, and Gilbert tells him to let him know if he changes his mind, because he doesn’t dislike people with pure hearts like Rio’s. 

With a final pat on the shoulder, Gilbert leaves the room, and Rio is left to take a long long breath as he stares up at the ceiling, clearly left in a conundrum.

The next day, Emma makes a full report of the auction and its goings-on to Chevalier and his faction - well, to everyone save for Luke, who is off napping somewhere.

She had decided it was more than she and Rio should worry over on their own…but the princes seem to take the whole thing in stride, utterly nonplussed, to her surprise. 

Nokto says they’ve been aware for awhile now of the auctions that have been going on - but he admits there’s one thing new they’ve learned here at least. That Silvio isn’t the one orchestrating them. He and Clavis discuss the situation with Emma, as Chevalier stays quietly reading documents - namely that they had suspected Silvio might possibly be behind all of this, but the situation has confirmed that he’s truly neutral. 

Emma’s curious at that, and Clavis elaborates - hasn’t she heard from Silvio already? How Benitoite is currently deliberating who they should align themselves with.

There’s a faction in Benitoite that wants to see the country abandon its alliance with Rhodolite in favor of joining with Obsidian, and another faction that wishes the opposite. 

Those words bring to mind Silvio’s own, when he’d mentioned how if he became king of Benitoite, he might reassess their relationship with Rhodolite. 

“I could break the alliance and join forces with another country…Obsidian, for example,” he had smirked. 

“You’re joking…right?” she had asked, aghast.

Silvio had sobered and said he wasn’t - the very fact that Gilbert had tossed his hat into the diplomatic ring meant that it was a possibility. If Obsidian was considering a path of cooperation, it was at least worth thinking over.

She realizes it must already a point of discussion in Benitoite, then.

“For the moment, the king of Benitoite seems to be indicating he intends to uphold the alliance,” Clavis says, then frowns. “But frankly, you never know when someone might turn, do you?” 

Nokto mentions that the princes of Obsidian and Benitoite had been together at the gala, and they had concerns the two were colluding in secret. 

“But from what you’ve said, Silvio remains neutral,” Clavis says to her.

“....No.” Chevalier, who’s been silent all this time, looks up from the documents. “Belle.  What design was the wax seal on the letter you saw the auction manager give that jangler?”

She thinks back to what had happened when she and Silvio had been led off away from Rio by the auction manager. What had been waiting for them wasn’t a special item of jewelry or anything like that. It had been a letter.

“This is what you wanted to show me?” Silvio had taken the letter from the auction manager with a curse.

“Who is it from?” Emma had asked.

“...A good-for-nothing bastard.”

As she’d blinked at that, Silvio had viciously ripped the envelope open and looked the letter over, his expression growing ever more sullen as he read, his sea-blue eyes grim. Leaving her wondering just what the heck could have been written in it.

“That old codger’s got nothin’ but nasty things to say,” Silvio had sneered, before turning his attention to the auctioneer. “When were you given this?”

“Awhile ago,” the man replies. “I was asked to give it to you when you came.”

Silvio had bitten out another curse, crushing the letter in his fist.

The envelope had slipped free, and Emma had bent to pick it up…

“...It was a crest, of a whale,” she tells Chevalier. Not a doubt in her mind. She’s never seen a whale in person before, of course, but she’s seen pictures and paintings of them. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but Nokto, Clavis, and even Rio seem stunned.

As she’s trying to figure out why they’re all so shocked, Chevalier speaks again. “I figured as much. What Jangles received was a directive from the king.” Emma is left reeling at that, and Chevalier goes on. “The head of an auction house, with ties to Obsidian, had a personal letter from the king.”

He presses Emma on what the takeaway from that should be, and she can see the dots…but connecting them terrifies her. When she remains silent, Chev puts her thoughts into words for her. “It stands to reason that Benitoite is already seeking a connection with Obsidian.”

Nokto, and even the ever-smiling Clavis, both look grim at the prospect. “This is worse than we thought, isn’t it?” Nokto says.

“No, it’s about what I expected,” Chevalier replies, and when Clavis pushes him about worst-case scenarios, Chevalier theorizes that if the alliance is truly broken and Rhodolite is left without the support of Benitoite, their country will be invaded by Obsidian.

This sounds like a disaster scenario to Emma, but Chevalier doesn’t seem disturbed at all, and she’s impressed by his level-headedness. He orders Nokto to keep an eye on these auctions, given the chance that the rulers of Benitoite and Obsidian may be involved, and when Nokto asks how he can be so sure the emperor might be involved, Chevalier tells him it’s because that’s what he would do if he was Obsidian. 

No clue is too small or trivial, he reminds Nokto, and Nokto agrees to handle it. As for Clavis, he rightly assumes Chev wants him to double down on monitoring Gilbert - now that they know the king’s intentions, it’ll be even more problematic if Silvio and Gilbert are colluding in secret. Chevalier agrees that he has to be kept from partnering with Silvio by any means necessary.

And finally, Chevalier turns his attention to Emma and Rio. “You two should continue to keep tabs on Silvio’s doings, under the guise of entertaining him. You could say this would have more impact on the future of Rhodolite than picking her next king, isn’t that right?”

Emma pledges to do everything she can to win over Silvio…thinking that she wants him to be an ally of Rhodolite, no matter what it takes.

…Because, she doesn’t want to think of him as an enemy. For some reason, she feels very strongly about that.

Chevalier holds his amused peace…but Rio remains silently pensive, which catches her attention.

After they leave the foreign faction office, she stops and turns around. “Rio, is everything alright?”

He smiles and asks what she means, and Emma tells him that she was wondering if something had happened to make him seem so lost in thought back there. 

Thinking back, she realizes he was rather uncharacteristically quiet in the meeting as well.

“Ahh, sorry. It’s nothing -” he starts to reassure her with a smile, before he gives up. “...That’s not going to work on you, is it.”

“No, it’s not,” she agrees. She’s not dense enough to miss the way her friend of the past three years has been acting strange lately. 

He offers her a wry smile, and frowns with a troubled expression. “I thought I’d better make up my mind after hearing what Prince Chevalier said.” When a confused Emma asks him what he means by that, Rio goes on sadly. “I am a coward, just like Prince Silvio said. I just want to be with you forever and I’m….afraid to remember the past.”

Admittedly to herself, Emma feels the same though. She used to help look for clues to Rio’s past, but the thought of being separated had her missing him. Life together had become so comfortable, that she gradually stopped trying so hard as well, because if Rio remembered who he was he would have to leave. She’s been avoiding the whole matter ever since because of that.

“But I can’t afford to be so naive anymore,” Rio says. “Now that Benitoite is leaning toward Obsidian, I…for the sake of your beloved country, I have to face the past.”

“...What do you mean?” Her heart tolls ominously, almost afraid to hear what Rio will say. 

“...I’m sorry. Truth be told…I already know who I am,” Rio admits, smiling sadly before resting his forehead on her shoulder. 

He had been acting strangely lately, and she’d wondered… “Did you regain your memory?”

He tells her not yet, but he’s met someone who knew him. “I am -”

A voice interrupts his confession. “Hey, a butler and a noblewoman shouldn’t be flirting with each other in the middle of the hallway.”

They both startle, and Emma finds herself yanked from behind, nearly falling over. Then there’s an oh-too-familiar cloud of exotic cologne surrounding her, and an oh-too-familiar warmth against her back. “...Prince Silvio.”

He has, she’s convinced, the worst possible timing ever. She can’t help but stare at him.

“Huh? What’s with the cheeky glare?” he scowls back. 

“Enough! Seriously, can you please, just for once, not get in my way?!” Rio scowls at Silvio., who offers his own scowl and hurls back the fact that a butler shouldn’t be trying to boss him around. “And, don’t you dare hug Emma so casually, you asshole of a big brother.”

Silvio accuses Rio of dropping all his polite fancy talk, and an angry Rio says he decided he was finished acting like a servant towards Silvio.

“Oh, feeling ballsy now are we? You bastard -” Silvio begins furiously.

But it’s Emma that interrupts this time. “H-hold up, wait just a minute!I could have sworn I just heard the craziest thing come out of Rio’s mouth just now.”

Maybe she just imagined it? But she’s preeeeetty dang sure she heard right when she heard him say ‘asshole brother’.

“Ah…yeah,” Rio acknowledges. “He’s my older brother.”

“Bro-” Emma reels. “Your big brother?

“Yep. Seems that way,” Rio agrees.

The wheels spin, but get nowhere…until it finally sinks in for Emma, for real. “WHAT?!”

<< Chp 12 | Chp 13 (His POV) >> (tbc)

@violettduchess @brightvalkyrie @pkmnmstrchf @faeriesplaygames @curious-skybunny @strawberryxlove @rikumorimachisgirl @sallylovessweets @wordycheeseblob

[lorei-writes]

Lessons on Care: Practice

Chevalier x MC Fluff

Connected Works: Lessons on Care: Theory Word Estimate: ~1.9k

I went through seven stages of despair while writing this, letters started to turn into spaghetti, and then... I realised it was actually all okay. It just needed to sit there, so that I could forget about it for a moment or two.

Content Warnings: descriptions of illness

Something stirred within his bed. Chevalier froze, looked over his shoulder, the sheets only rustling with more vigour… and confusion, judging by how aimless the movement appeared. An exasperated sigh on his lips, he ventured back onto the plains of carpet, the road he took – even though it had never been a road to begin with – feeling longer than ever before.

The dawn had just crept over the horizon line, heavy and viscous as it spilled onto the sky. It did not hurry, for the sun would wake up even if it did not ask – it was inevitable, the same way that rain would not stop its descent mid fall. It shivered, however, perhaps made upset by the disturbance in the beasts’ liar…

Chevalier buttoned up his shirt, not a twitch of his finger going to waste. He buckled his belt up, put his boots on, pushed his arms through the sleeves of his coat. Perhaps it was his body that did it all on its own, though; his mind needed not occupy itself with matters of such triviality. Chevalier turned on his heel and walked towards the door, each of his steps being unusually loud against the cold stone floor.

Something stirred within his bed. Chevalier froze, looked over his shoulder, the sheets only rustling with more vigour… and confusion, judging by how aimless the movement appeared. An exasperated sigh on his lips, he ventured back onto the plains of carpet, the road he took – even though it had never been a road to begin with – feeling longer than ever before.

Fish-like eyes; with cheeks blood red; more inanimate than living, her gaze unfocused, just barely floating over his face. Nevertheless, that much seemed to be of the desirable effect. Chevalier scowled, but leaned forward regardless of anything he felt at the moment. He pushed the duvet up to her very chin, Emma nuzzling into his hand.

“Go back to sleep.”

She did.

Chevalier stepped away from the bed, quietly now, her deepening breathing drowning any and all sound out.

It was not that he was worried. It was not that he wasn’t worried either. Truth be told, Chevalier was both and neither, and perhaps some third thing tucked neatly in-between those two. Fountain pen shivered in his grip, only the scratching of the nib against the paper disturbing the quiet of his office. The Clown, Jumbo, even Clavis, all were ill – although that much was to be expected, considering that others could contract the disease from him…. His mouth twisted into an involuntary grimace, a sigh spilling from his shapely lips. Chevalier briefly glanced at the stack of papers still awaiting his attention. He could have – he had – foreseen the possible outcomes of Emma’s foolish desire to take care of him; the futures in which she did not wound up sick herself were sparse to say the least, the ones in which the disease troubled her less than him being close to non-existent. She claimed to have accepted the consequences, so she probably hardly regretted a thing, and yet… Chevalier stood up from his desk. He could not see there being any merit to working from the office over any other place in particular.

This state was foreign to him. Chevalier willed his eyes to look at the financial aid request, but his attention drifted towards the bed again, another cough sending ripples through the duvet. Emma struggled against another wave of cough, the approaching evening having seemingly made it its goal to rob her of breath. He frowned, black ink conquering the white with newly obtained ferocity. Each word a stab against the inquiry made, the outcome of the squabble was known before he even sealed it with wax, another envelope soon being tossed onto the tray… All while one word hung low above his head. Pneumonia. He chastised himself. The possibility was not yet fate.

The night advanced with fever, just as expected. The pen glared at Chevalier from over the desk, discarded among the last few pieces of correspondence, candle light getting caught in its exposed nib. However, it was not the pen that his hands reached for, but a cloth, ice cold and thoroughly soaked. Droplets spilled down its edges, water fleeing back into the basin as he wrung the compress before laying it on top of Emma’s forehead. Chevalier could not rid himself of the feeling that there was little affection to his care; however, it hardly mattered at the moment. He cupped her face to warm his knuckles, a relieved murmur stirring within her chest as he moved them further down, to her neck. Blood buzzed through her veins at an increased pace, her skin scorching hot to the touch, little different from branding iron heated up until the point of glowing bright red. The medicine he had her drink seemed not to have yielded the desired effect… Without as much as a word of warning, he forced the covers off her. Emma squirmed.

“Quiet,” he hushed her before she called for help. Her eyes opened, confused to the point of panic pupils searching for something in the dimly lit room.

“Chevalier?”

He clicked his tongue, all signs pointing to one conclusion. Without a moment of delay, Chevalier pushed her nightgown up her legs, until her thighs were revealed. He parted them slightly, hands already reaching for another compress, when…

“What are you…?”

Emma was scared. Of course, she was scared. It was questionable whether she even realised it was him who tended to her.

“Your fever is high. I will put cold cloth over your thighs to cool you down,” Chevalier explained, his face unsually tense. He was… not used to justifying himself, but now, now it was something else as well. A weight lifted off his shoulders the moment tension eased out of her. He proceeded with the previously outlined plan, again and again; long after Emma’s eyes closed, until her breathing calmed and he could touch her without being burned…

Chevalier did not sleep well that night, provided that the few naps he managed to take could be called sleep in the first place. He couldn’t help it, however, his eyelids fluttering open whenever Emma stirred. He rubbed her back, drew her closer to himself, and yet… it was not enough to ease her discomfort, her hands trembling as they held onto his shirt.

The days that followed were hardly kinder to the both of them, Emma’s condition improving only to get worse again. The sole mercy the passing of time could offer to Chevalier was that her cough diminished, even if her abdomen hurt from the contractions her muscles had been repeatedly put through. Improved sleep was promising, however, the morning on the sixth day of her illness greeting them with no fever. Emma turned onto her side to prop herself on her elbow, sore and exhausted, but still insistent on getting out of the bed. Only half-conscious, Chevalier reached for her, his arm hooking around her waist to prevent her from getting any further away.

“Let go.”

“Go back… to… sleep,” he murmured, unperturbed by the state of her clothes, then soaked with sweat.

“I’m filthy,” Emma argued at him.

“On the… bedside table…”

“I need to take a bath.”

Chevalier opened one eye. Indeed, Emma was a sorry sight to behold; pale, with hair in utter disarray, and yet… He could not allow her to go, not on her own. A frown cut across his face. Chevalier pushed the duvet back over her shoulders, her lips parting in protest, although to produce no sound. The mattress heaved. Much to the discontent of his own body, he got up. Very well. Water needed to be drawn; they could use having their sheets changed as well.

Chevalier returned after a short while. Emma watched silently as he strode across the room, seemingly to collect something, although she was not quite sure as to what that something could be. Her head still felt heavy, so she let her eyes rest, the mattress dipping a moment or a few later…

“If you want to bathe, then get up now.”

Emma looked up, blue eyes staring at her, narrowed with what she could only interpret as concern. Her body did not wish to cooperate, but… it did not need to either. As soon as she got herself to sit up, she found herself in Chevalier’s arms, carried safely to somewhere. She blinked in surprise, the feeling only intensifying when he set her down, the cold of the tiles contrasting with the steam hanging low in the air. The situation caught up to her, and so, Emma undressed, or at least she wanted to, his hands being faster than hers. Goosebumps rose over her skin, her eyes trailing the edge of the tub as she readied herself to scale it… Chevalier sighed, and soon enough, she was up in the air again, before water splashed around her. It did not hurt, however, despite the suddenness of the action.

Something scratched against the tiles. Emma snapped her head to look into the direction of the sound, Chevalier dragging a chair to sit beside the tub, a brush in his free hand. She met his gaze, the sorrowful yet soft look in his eyes rendering any words they could exchange redundant. She turned her back towards him, a gasp spilling out of her lungs the moment he begun to brush the knots out of her hair.

“Did it hurt?”

“No,” Emma assured, but… Somehow, he was gentler with her now. Chevalier worked each strand from the bottom to the very top of her head as she washed herself, until finally, he could run his fingers through her hair without any obstacles in their way.

“Close your eyes,” he more so commanded than asked, and she immediately obeyed, water pouring over her head. Emma opened her mouth to breathe, his fingers lathering the shampoo into her scalp, stiff and mildly unsure of whether what they did was right. Chevalier pressed his lips into a thin line, a scornful laugh begging to be let out whenever Emma unconsciously sought his touch. As if his care was not merely an imitation of what she had previously done.

Water had already drained out by the time she was ready to get out. Emma rocked from side to side, put her hands on the edges of the tub, Chevalier standing by the cabinet, his back turned towards her. It was as if wadding replaced the bones in her legs, but even so, she pushed herself up, strangely convinced she could at the very least stand on her own before asking him for help… Her vision turned black. Rushed steps – and then, something warm, and firm, but primarily, it was familiar. Comfortable in a way.

“You fool. I have told you to wait,” Chevalier chastised her, his voice rumbling through his chest, to eventually reverberate through her. Emma looked up, or attempted to, his arms keeping her in place.

“I’m sorry… for getting you… wet,” she mumbled.

“Don’t waste energy on pointless things.”

Emma was not sure how she got back into the bed, nor did she know when was her hair put into a braid. It skipped her that she fell asleep, that the sun still hung on the sky, that her fever did not climb as high. She turned onto her side, searching for something or somebody… Emma opened her eyes, Chevalier sitting by the desk. He briefly averted his gaze from the documents in front of him, the corners of lips slightly upturned.

Blessed are those who have not seen, and have believed. But Chevalier did not need to believe. He would see to it himself that she’d be well.

--

Tag List: @cilokgoang @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather

+ @tele86 , because you've commented that there definitely should be a second part under "Lessons on Care: Theory". I hope you don't mind the fact that I've taken the liberty to tag you :)

[introverted-imagineer]

Only Fools Build Bridges

Part 13

Warnings: Death, Violence, Battle, Smutty themes

'RUN SAXON’

It was as if time stopped. Fresh, sticky, thick red blood coated the soles of my feet, and for the first time in a while, it wasn’t my blood. The Queen stood straight-faced, her thick cloak and demeanor hiding the fact that she was truly taking much shallower, quicker breaths than she led on. The newly crowned ‘King Coward’ had a look to kill. Godwin stood brazenly, but inside, his stomach was probably churning as he seemed to gulp down whatever contents had just arisen from his throat. The walls were not only collapsing around England but around its leaders themselves. My stature was limp, my body aching, my head spinning, only able to hear the sound of my heart beating and the raging ringing that pierced my eardrums. But the fact remained the same, I had to run. 

The world around me flooded back to an astounding relativity of time. The sound of clanging metals, screeching against one another as its handlers fought for dominance against one another. The barbarous grunts of Vikings echoed across the bridge as they simultaneously protruded a threatening thump as they smashed weapon to shield. The desperate gasp of men around me as they slowly perspired, desperately gasping for a miracle as arrows were plunged deep into their flesh. Godwin, Queen Emma and King Edmund almost snapping their own necks at the speed which they directed their gaze from the horrors ahead, instead, to me. It’s amazing, how the human body can be so defiled, bruised, and battered in ways that were nothing short of excruciating, but with enough adrenaline, and a little hope, all that anguish could be cast aside in an instant. 

The crisp cool air swept against my salved legs, a gentle sting piercing each bit of open flesh as I turned my back to the battle unravelling in-front of me, facing the wind head on, it took all the willpower I had left to move one foot in front of the other. I could hear footsteps scuttling behind me as I slipped down the stone stairwell, hissing at the feeling of gravel grating my already frail skin. Landing on my bottom, I gripped the walls beside me in an attempt to gather the strength to pull my body from the ground. In a panic, I whipped my head around to find the boy King right behind me, sword in hand. This was definitely it. This was the end, death had been a constant companion these past few months, but now he was coming to claim me. Involuntarily, I swiped my palms from the stone wall, bringing them around my torso to comfort myself from my inevitable end. The rough thrust of a sword came crashing down on my shoulder, but instead of entering my flesh, it only collided on the surface. ‘MOVE’ King Edmund screamed as my weight naturally thrust in the direction which the hilt of his sword had pushed me. The King ran forward, continuing down the stairs as men trailed on his lead, heading toward the battle. 

‘Y/N’ Godwin’s voice, exasperated yet sullen, piercingly seethed from the upstairs turret. But as men continued to obediently follow their King to the Viking front, his aggravated cries were drowned out by the sound of footsteps of men flailing down the stairs. I thrust my weight forward, crawling on all fours, busting my knees against the ground with only the thin cloth of my skirt, which was already ripped in places, providing any protection. I rounded the stairs, crawling along the thin inner baileys of the castle, crawling towards the next closest tower to hide within the interiors of the castle. As I crawled toward the side castle doors, stones began to pound the ground next to me. I could hear Godwin grunting as he desperately tried to stop my movements. It was necessary for a strong warrior to harbour skills in armed combat, harness every power within oneself to control ones fine motor skills in order to perfect the gruesome job of killing. If you couldn’t harness all that, then like Godwin, you were placed in advisory roles. The wooden door was slightly ajar as the wind causes it to bang against the stone walls. Ajar, closed, ajar closed. As I got closer, I gently lifted my sore arm, my shoulder piercing and throbbing, desperately warning me against such action. The door slightly ajar, as it went to bang shut against its frame, instead it collided with the palm of my hand, allowing me to crawl inside and slam the door behind me. The pelting of stones continuing to bolt against the outside of the door. 

While I was familiar with the main grounds of the castle, the unfamiliarity of the small room around me caught me by surprise. It was barren, lifeless, dusty. But the throne that sat in the centre of the room as well as the half filled wine decanter showed evidence that this room was very much still occupied. 

I took a moment to breath. The adrenaline running through my body confirmed my suspicion, that somehow, I was still very much alive. The ringing in my eardrums began to ascend. Clutching the armrest of the chair next to me, using my good arm, I managed to pull my frail body from the ground. The pain and stinging from my legs was now concentrated in my shoulder where the hilt smash of a sword had previously occurred. Limply trudging across the room to the small table that sat behind the throne, I picked up the wine decanter, not bothering to use the goblets, I chugged every last drop of the odorous, likely expensive contents. Leaning my bodyweight on the table, the sound of high-pitched screams echoed from down the corridor. I turned to the back of the room, trudging aimlessly toward the thick velvet red curtains that lay by the stain glass window that allowed a clouded sunlight to only just lighten the room. The doors burst open as the sound of crying women entered the room, followed by the sound of sturdy cobbled shoes striding against the wooden floor. I hitched my breath in my throat as the Footsteps strode toward the curtain, only to have them stop as someone plonked themselves on the throne. ‘Let us pray’ Queen Emma’s soft, yet sturdy voice commanded across the small room. The sound of women's voices shakily begun to mutter prayers to themselves. Some reciting ones from the bible, others praying for mercy. 

Behind the curtain, through a small crack of broken glass, I put my eye up to the window, peeping through the little hole to see what horrors had taken place outside. Ships had almost magically appeared within the harbour, the yelling of soldiers and Vikings as they bloodthirstily swung their weapons at one another. But there was an eerie undetectable sound. An insatiably loud creaking. 

Without any warning, the bridge between the mainland and the main gate of the castle came crashing down beneath. The women inside screamed at the sound of the loud bang, piercing their senses, however I stared in disbelief. 

Prayers became more speedily recited, I could almost hear the Queens fingernails digging into the wooden armrests of the throne which she sat. It seemed like hours we sat there, myself still safely concealed behind the velvet curtain. A grey swept cloudy sky turned to nightfall. 

The sound of footsteps echoed from outside the room, thunderous, prosperous, confident. The interior doors to the room flung open as that familiar barbarian language filled the room. Women screamed, myself and Emma staying still. ‘YOU HAVE FOUND THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND. I DEMAND TO SEE CANUTE’ she announced as she fiercely stood from her seat. ‘Would you settle for me?’ An almost cheeky voice exclaimed. ‘Olaf’ was all she replied before the footsteps trudged forward, escorting the Queen and the women from the room. Most of the Vikings left, but a few stayed. 

Hours it seemed passed as the Vikings sat on the ground, relishing in the moment of relaxation. Even the fiercest needed a break. I stood there, behind that velvet curtain, my body leaning against the stone wall behind me, threatening to give out as my already weak legs became sorer and sorer.  I still couldn’t understand the language perfectly, but I could pick up a few words from the conversation around me. ‘Defeat’ ‘Captured’ ‘King Coward…’. The shallow discussions were suddenly interrupted by the doors flying open, and Canute’s all too familiar voice protruding across the room. ‘Out’ he commanded. The men instantly reacted, getting up from their spots of the ground and exiting the room. As the last pair of footsteps left the room, the King muttered something to the person, the word ‘Mathilda’ could be heard at the end of his sentence, followed by a brotherly slap on the back, which Vikings so often greeted one another with. Canute strode towards the centre of the room, sitting upon the same throne which had Queen Emma on it hours ago. Another set of heavy footsteps wearily followed the King into the room. ‘Come Harald’ the King commanded. My breath hitched in my throat at the sound of his name. 

The doors closed gently as the two men conversed. While I couldn’t understand entirely, the tone of the men's voices indicated the gravity and seriousness of the conversation unfolding. The discussion and vocabulary was complex, nothing like I’d heard before. But only one sentence unfolded that I could understand, it came from Canute addressing Harald. ‘What if I could make you King of Norway?’ The discussion turned to arguing as the pair conversed with one another intently. Harald’s sudden silence indicated that he wasn’t expecting to hear whatever Canute had told him, nor did he likely want to hear it. Canute, satisfied with the outcome of the conversation rose from the throne and strode toward the door to leave. But his footsteps stopped, he let out a chuckle, but then he spoke in a language I could understand. ‘You can come out now…Saxon’. The doors slammed shut as the King retreated from the room. Stood still, still in shock, my consciousness was brought back by that familiar voice. Confronting, deep, yet somehow soothing. ‘Saxon?’ He said. Gently I pulled the curtain to the side slowly, revealing my presence after hours of standing. He was covered in blood, his under-eyes seemed dark, yet his face shone in the moonlight that cast upon his face. Without thought, I limped towards his tall frame, arms reaching out for him. His tall statue bent down as he held his arms out to catch my weak frame. My chest collided with his rock hard armour, and my feet were swept from the ground as I nuzzled my face into his neck. His strong arm wrapped around my waist as his other arm reached up, and his large hand rested on the back of my head, stroking my hair. He smelled of sweat, blood, seawater and mud. I didn’t care though, and as much as I wanted to dismiss the feelings, his embrace brought comfort to me. At that moment, I felt safe.

Our stomachs pressed against one another, my breasts pressed tightly against his, his beard felt rugged against the side of my face. Something about it felt comfortable, yet nerve wracking. As our chests rose and fell against one another, his arm seemed to get tighter around my waist as we stayed in the tight embrace. I could feel the hairs on his body stand to attention as my hot breath danced on the skin of his neck. I didn’t want to pull away, and it didn’t seem like he wanted to either. Wetting my lips with my tongue, I accidentally licked his neck, a slight moan emitting from his mouth as his body seemed to stiffen. ‘I’m sorry’ I choked out, before the tears ran involuntarily from my eyes. ‘Shhh Shh Shh’ he comforted, stroking my hair with more vigour. I almost gasped as his weight shifted, and my feet returned to the floor. I couldn’t look at him, so I kept my eyes cast down to the ground. His warm hands suddenly cupped my face, I wanted to push them away, but I couldn’t. He simply leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. I leaned my forehead right into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist. I could feel his arms gently reach around his back, unwrapping my limp wrists from his torso. ‘Go prepare a room Saxon’ he whispered before he trudged away from the room without as much as a glance, leaving me standing there. 

What the fuck.

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Cynthia Hammond (an OC) X Fem!Reader Angsty, Cute, and Mildly Fluffy Prompt [Sneak-Peek]

• There will be more!

• Cynthia’s face-claim is Emma Stone as her role(s) in Kinds of Kindness

• Sneak-peek consists of the first part of this prompt/instalment, but the entire version will be posted on Wednesday

• This is a largely WIP idea so I apologise if it’s not immensely clear at this stage

!TW: Implied suffering from PTSD/Trauma, mention of previously facing sexual assault/rape, implied suffering from anxiety + separation anxiety + depression, hints of self put-down(s) + self doubt, implied mention of previously being manipulated/abused, dystopian atmosphere (WIP) - if I’ve missed any, let me know ❤️!

You remembered the day you stepped off of the train, the sign stood a few paces away from you reading a ‘welcome’ in massive letters before being followed by the words: ‘to Holmsborough’ in a slightly smaller font. You remembered the smell of grass; the occasional bark from a distant dog, before you warily continued walking down the pathway whilst the train slowly began to descend away from you to wherever it was next headed, somewhere you’d most likely never be able to see, now that you were here for your new makeshift psychiatric treatment.

You’d been told you should come here and give it a try by your doctor, the other methods he’d been assigning you not working as well as he’d planned them to, the day you’d first been assigned him following your recent facing of sexual harassment by a friend, back in your hometown. You hadn’t been sure what to do, so of course you said ‘yes’, stuffing your hands deep into your pockets whilst you walked and walked down to the town that was due to become your new home. You tried not to think it was weird; eerie, until you reached the medical centre itself, except it looked more like a retreat, the walls brightly painted an interesting shade of yellow, whilst the sign outside consisted of bright rainbow lettering - it was all just-.. odd, but you were used to it, now, sitting on the opposite side of Cynthia whilst you both were awkwardly sitting together at the same booth, sheltered by the café’s roof above you.

“Where’d the flowers come from, then?” You inquired, your voice close to a whisper whilst you wrapped your hands around your mug of coffee, evidently nervous; you still weren’t used to being this close to people again after what had happened to you recently.

“Oh, these,” she began timidly, before taking an awkward sip of her own beverage, “they, erm-.. well, they’re for you.”

You faltered; tensed up opposite her whilst your eyes locked with her own for a moment, your heart seeming to skip a beat as you wondered why she’d bring you flowers like that, especially such nice ones; beautiful yellow roses that you could smell across the table whilst she handled them with cautious care, her eyes locking with your’s as if she were trying to hide that she was scared of something; doing, or saying something wrong around you, though you couldn’t imagine why she’d react in such a way to your presence when you both had only known each other for a little while, now - it wasn’t exactly as if you both were friends, not at all, but you certainly felt safe enough to hang around each other the way that you were, now.

“M-Mine? I’m sorry, did - did you really just say that they’re mine, or-?” You stammered a little, speaking too fast, and she would hesitate, gulping again, before she nodded, and managed a faint smile over at you.

“I just wanted to get you something, for all you’ve done for me recently,” she clarified, and you would raise your eyebrows; this was something incredibly unusual for Cynthia, you determined, unless she wanted something from someone. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? It’s true,” she insisted, before you sighed heavily, and got straight to the point.

“What is it that you need me to do, now?” You questioned, and she would falter, a pained expression on her face, before she hastily bowed her head; she didn’t know why it had seemed to hurt her to hear you jump to such an assumption, even though there was something she did want from you; no-one’s opinion had ever mattered as much to her as your’s seemed to, ever since she first met you that day you’d first arrived here, and seemed to capture her attention in an instant the second you walked through the institution (the retreat’s) doors.

“Please be my date for my family’s homecoming party,” she mustered, her voice sounding a little exasperated, “I usually go alone to these kinds of things, but-..” She sighed heavily, before glancing up at you again whilst you listened to her intently, not wanting to interrupt her no matter how worried you were that someone might find out about you both being together without the leadership’s consent, if ever you did decide to pretend to be something more to her in front of her family the way she was asking you to for her upcoming personal event beyond the retreat’s walls. She lowered her voice, her eyes briefly flickering toward the other poor souls who had been convinced to come here; it wasn’t exactly an appropriate topic to discuss here; the leadership condemned feelings ever being associated with relationships, unless such feelings were more friendly than lustful. “People have started whispering behind my back,” she admitted dejectedly, and you would frown; you knew how that felt too well; to be the black sheep of your own family, and you had to fight back a sigh as you nodded gravely, and smiled reassuringly over at her to encourage her to continue, somehow, with her request, “about how they feel bad for me, y’know, b-being-.. alone, especially after what happened between me and my ex, Jack.”

You couldn’t help, but scowl in response to her mentioning of him; you’d heard about many of the things he’d done to her, and it physically made you ache as well as burn inside to know that she’d been hurt by him the way she had, before she’d come here, herself, a few months ago, now.

“Isn’t being alone a good thing?” You mused, the disdain you were still holding clear in your voice, and she would frown, before shrugging, and bowing her head again whilst she tried to act as if she were admiring the flowers, when really she was trying not to cry in front of you, not wanting you to think her weak, or hysterical as a result of what he’d done to her, when those were things you could never think about her; you saw her as stronger than you ever could be; the most confident, and beautiful woman you’d ever met since your coming here, and the thought would prompt you to falter. Did you just refer to her as being beautiful? You drew in a barely audible sharp breath, gritting your teeth subconsciously whilst you fidgeted with your fingers beneath the table - if the leadership were able to read your thoughts, you’d probably be dead right now, for having such a thought about her.

“Some might see it that way, I suppose, but-.. me,” she continued slowly, biting down upon her tongue whilst her voice threatened to tremble without her consent, “I prefer - having someone, I guess, to cling to, during occasions like those - I never thought I’d lose Jack like that, but I just seemed to not mean enough to him to be anything, but his play-toy, b-but - you, you could be-”

“Stop,” you interjected hastily, your own voice briefly trembling now whilst your heart began to race, “Cynth, I - I can’t; we can’t, the leadership; the rules - if we were found out-”

“We won’t be,” she interrupted gently, her voice seeming to soothe you more than you thought possible, and you couldn’t help, but glance down at your hands as soon as you felt her hold then within her own, “they won’t know, I promise, besides - it’s not like we really mean anything to each other, do we?”

You would falter, a pained expression on your face, before you glanced up at her, and wondered why your chest was aching again.

“You’re right,” you murmured, “we - we don’t.” She smiled sadly over at you, before she glanced down at her beverage again, and her eyes seemed to darken a little alongside your own; you never thought anything could hurt as much as this did, as she withdrew her hands from your’s, without you even knowing why the ache was there, and more prominent than any feeling ever had been before, but you guessed you’d just have to get over it, somehow, as you distracted yourself with your coffee again, goosebumps still running along your arms from after she’d held your hands within her own soft and warm ones, prompting your heart to skip a beat again at the reminder of such a feeling as that moment had been. You couldn’t help, but smile softly, telling yourself that it was just the coffee you were now holding again; it was extra sweet today, and the milk wasn’t making you feel quite as ill as it usually did on other days, before you’d both begun to meet here together, as unlikely ‘not-so-friends’, like the leadership would call such a relationship, before they give out consent to those whose feelings are only the type to be felt by friends in a restrictive as well as apparently ‘helpful’ society to those mentally burdened by events like that experienced by you and Cynthia not too long ago, now. Of course they catered to other types of trauma, but trauma linked to sexual harassment seemed to be their specialty, here. ��So,” you began again, forcing a smile over at her, “where’s the function going to be, then?”

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed it, and are looking forward to the full instalment’s dropping on Wednesday as much as I am! ❤️

[shinmiyovvi]

CoD Zombies Salvatorix Crew Face Claims

I know I haven't talked about them for months now but this is the opportunity to give time for these bimbinis to shine again! Took me a bit but it was worth the try to find good face claims of the crew. Without further a do...

Louis Hofmann for Stefan von Hoffmann

Yes, they have the same last name but with a different spelling. I was looking for German actors on the internet just for starters to look for potential candidates until I saw Louis Hofmann. He caught my attention and went to look for other photos of him, observing and imagining him being Stefan's face claim so I quickly didn't choose any candidates. His face looks very calm and gives off an intelligent and calculating vibe to it which the two are one of Stefan's traits as a person and also a team leader to his crew.

Grigory Dobyrin for Gavrilo Petrović

Huge thanks to @maninthebox242 for showing me pictures of this man, he is so fine to look at 👉👈 Anyways, he may be Russian but who cares, saw his green eyes and his sexy beard and I was like "Fuck it, we ballin." and went to make him as Gavi's face claim. Now I cannot stay silent whenever I draw Gavi because I will daydream about him having Grigory as his fc.

Jericho Rosales for Marcelito Gonzalez

This struck me while thinking of some potential face claims for the crew and the first thing I was thinking about was for Marcel. As I was spacing out, my brain just went to remember that time I watched Bonifacio: Ang Unang Pangulo and remember Jose Rizal was played by Jericho Rosales. My mind just clicked and quickly made him as Marcel's fc with no other candidates available but only for Jericho. I chose him because of how I grew up just seeing him from any telenovela series that I binged watch every afternoon or every evening, depending on the series' schedule.

Adrien Brody for Lorenzo Beneventi

I mentioned this from the Main Ocs that Adrien was the first one that I had on mind for Dragomir but I disregarded it and make it for Lorenzo's. His facial structure was the driving force of me to make him as Lorenzo's face claim and also the fact that I watched Peaky Blinders and remembered him makes me think about a Mafia Au for our Italian boi.

Junichi Okada for Ryuji Tanaka

This was a very hard decision I had since I chose three candidates for Ryuji's face claim, that being Shun Oguri, Joe Odagiri, and Junichi Okada. I turned Shun as a reserve for now until I am left with Joe and Junichi. Both are present in war movies that I've watched before (Junichi was a Japanese pilot in The Eternal Zero while Joe was an IJA officer in the movie My Way). Both played their roles phenomenally but Junichi begins to grow in me considering that he has a similar facial hair with Ryuji.

Stacy Martin for Rochelle Levesque

The very first actress I laid my eyes on while searching for French actresses and I gotta say, her facial structure is what I wanted Rochelle to have. She has that cute yet beautiful face of hers and how her eyes looks very dreamy and elegant to look at. This will also apply to Primis Rochelle but since her Ultimis counterpart is a member of the Salvatorix Crew so I had to put it here.

Anna Kendrick for Mirabelle Hawkins

I have some other candidates with me like Elizabeth Olsen, Emma Stone, and Scarlet Johnson but I stumbled upon Anna Kendrick and went to search about her on the interest. I never imagine she was part of the Pitch Perfect series and the one who sang Cups (Where everyone uses a cup while singing it and it was a thing before). Her eyes was the key factor of making her as Mira's face claim as it has a slight dark bluish shade on her eyes.