#even though it's one of my favorite colors

[1-800-local-slut]

Sticky and Disgusting

In honor of my favorite crash out, my favorite tweaker, here's how I feel like nasty sex with JJ would be. I know I was supposed to upload last night but I was bawling my heart out, so I hope this makes up for it <3

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𑁍 JJ fucks, and he does it good too. He's driven women insane, married women, and single women alike text his phone about how much they miss him, how they just can't forget him.

𑁍 But since meeting you, he's elevated his skills quite a bit and knows how to get you in the mood and usually he gets horny first

𑁍 Walking down the street and sees a swimsuit he wants to see you in? Hard. Laying down and randomly thinking about you? Hard. A hug? I don't even have to say it at this point

𑁍 JJ likes listening to something that puts him in the mood

𑁍 Anything with a slow pace he can roll his body perfectly in time too

𑁍 He's willing to get down anywhere anytime, but he's the type that when he gets the chance to make things nice he will

𑁍 His favorite place is your room. You're his kook princess, and you have this fancy ass bedroom with your parents who hate him downstairs and your brother who also hates trying to tone out the noise of you whimpering JJ’s name like a prayer

𑁍 Blue LED lights, a ring light that he fingered out how to set different colors too, and now you two were fucking under a sea of velvet-colored lights

𑁍 He would take it slow depending on his mood. He's slowly rolling his hips into you, his necklace dancing in your face, and your legs are trembling while he's leaving wet kisses down your sweaty neck and whispering perversions in your ears

"Say my name, I know you can do it." "You like that? Yeah, I know you do."

𑁍 And he's so cocky because he knows no one fucks you as good as he does.

𑁍 He knows every part of you, which fleshy part of your body to press down on to have you arching your back off the mattress and wondering what you did to receive a blessing like this

𑁍 Speaking of pressing, JJ likes fingering you. He'll pull you into his lap, shirt pulled up to reveal those tits he loves so much and make out with you slowly but aggressively while he finger fucks you just right

𑁍 Your eyes are closed while he picks up the pace and he's watching you lean back with your legs shaking around his waist as his palm rubs against your clit. The room is hot and JJ's fingers are covered in cream as you let out pleas for release.

𑁍 JJ can never deny you (yes he can, he's done it before when he wanted to see how long he could edge you too and you got pissed and didn't blow him for two weeks) so he keeps going until you boil over to a finish that JJ has only seen in porn. He wished he set up his camera, so he could get that sound on video

𑁍 There was always next time. And you'd let JJ do anything to you and he loved that so much

𑁍 The first night he realized was when his hands automatically went to around your neck and gave you a tender squeeze and when he withdrew his hands an apologized, and you shyly told him to do it again. He came so hard that night his eyes hurt from how they rolled back in his head

𑁍 And it never ends with that, from there, JJ holds up his fingers for you to lick clean and because you're his girl you eagerly do it that makes JJ's heart swell

𑁍 He likes missionary. It's simple, but he gets to look you in the face while he does things to you that would kill your grandmother if she knew.

𑁍 Having you on your back while he sinks slowly into you at first just to see your reaction when he first slides in

𑁍 That warm, creamy feeling, like putting his nuts in warm pudding. He likes to go in, all the way to the base first, just to see you look in his eyes while wearing the necklace with a little 'J' around your neck that you got for your six-month anniversary that made him cry when he first saw it

𑁍 He starts rough though. He just needs too. Sometimes he eases into it, but on certain nights he just can't

𑁍 He loves when you moan his name with a gasp that says that's the stuff that you love, when you let out choked little moans of 'right there' and 'just like that baby'

𑁍 Oh and high sex? Don't even get him started. Its a little ridiculous, the way he twitches a little more and presses soft kisses all over you because JJ is a little love bug when he's high and doesn't have it in him to bruise your ass cheeks

𑁍 Angry sex. JJ gets angry, so very easily. And he loves when you're willing to let him get it out of his system on you instead of someone's property.

𑁍 He's grabbing your face and making you look him in the eyes, he's holding a firm grip on your waist while he plows into you like he was trying to fuck you to sleep (which he has done time and time again), he has you with your ass raised in the air and slapping it like a punching bag

𑁍 He's trembling from rage, and from how good you are for him, how he's shaking and his brows are furrowed while you bounce back against him. Your manicured nails are gripping the sheets, and his hand is fisting your hair while holding you into the pillows

𑁍 Don't be afraid to take control over him though. JJ likes it when you push him on the bed and sit down on his dick like it's where your meant to be.

𑁍 He wants you to ride him like you hardly care about him. He wants you to bounce up and down, nails scraping down his chest ignoring how red he's turning and how he's whimpering out warnings that he was about to cum

𑁍 When you start bouncing up and down harder, while he's twitching and trying to hold onto your hips, and you do that little grinding thing when you circle your hips around and rub up against his abs so he cums inside of you while letting out moans that were so out of character that he would refuse to admit that was him if anyone ever saw that on tape

𑁍 Drunk sex, when you two stumble in from a party tipsy and you're suddenly desperate to blow him and who was he to tell you no.

𑁍 Take him down your throat and he'll cum right there. He's done it a few times. He watching you bob your head up and down, eyes staring up at him with an evil glint in your eyes

𑁍 Leaving kisses all over his chest and down his stomach, your lip gloss and lipstick smearing down his stomach and he feels a warm fluttering feeling in his stomach

𑁍 When you both cum, it makes a mess. He likes it messy, he truly does. When he pulls out and cums on your stomach or his personal favorite is cumming on your pussy so he can't tell when your mess ends and his begins.

𑁍 When you leave a creamy ring around his base, or when he cums on your ass cheeks. When he face fucks you like you're a human flesh light and you have tears and spit streaming down your face before giving him a sloppy kiss that has him weak in the knees, when he cums so hard he drools a bit and you kiss him anyways because you love anything from him, when you ride his face like a mechanical bull and when you get up he looks like he just went down a water park ride.

𑁍 You two always, and I mean ALWAYS leaving a giant stain on your sheets, his sheets, his bike, your clothing (mostly ending up being your swimsuit or panties from him pulling you aside at a kegger and rubbing you through the cloth of your swim suit until you came and quickly had to duck before a group passing by saw you two), and it's always a terrible mess to clean up.

𑁍 Sweat, spit, cum, tears, it's a disgusting mess and by God JJ lives to make it any chance he gets

[frehyun]

Makeup

idol!hyunjin x gn!reader

warnings: none!

genre: fluff

word count: 868

author's note: just a little silly something I wrote on my way to uni, very much inspired by Hyunjin's make up in this tiktok! hope you enjoy 💗

(not edited </3)

masterlist

divider by @strangergraphics

“What brought this on?” – Hyunjin giggled as you strode back into his bedroom, closing the door behind you so Changbin didn’t have a chance to peek inside.

“I wanna do your makeup!” – you emphasised your words by waving a palette and brushes around dramatically, making your way to the bed where he was situated on.

“Am I not pretty enough?” – he batted his eyelashes up at you.

Menace.

You waved away his teasing words with a pout, pushing him back into the pillows and climbing onto the bed to straddle his hips, your palette and brushes safely put away onto the bedside table.

“You know you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen, so don’t even start with that. Now, tell me, what color? Glitter? Ohh, I think glitter would make you look so good!” – you excitedly patted his chest, urging him to voice his own wishes. You were going to give him at least some choice in the matter. Only a little, though.

Hyunjin layed one of his long, manicured fingers against his chin and tapped it, letting out a loud hum, overdramatically indicating that he was thinking about what was going to be his hardest choice of the day aside from what to order for dinner tonight.

You sighed, moving to lay your head on his chest while he got his theatrics out.

“Wake me when you’ve decided.”

“Hey, I don’t take that long to decide these things!”

“I’ll just choose for you, you big baby.” – you smiled teasingly and reached over to get the palette and brushes off the table and sitting right back up.

“Oh my God, you don’t love me, I’ve always known” – he makes a dramatic gesture, covering his eyes with his arm and playfully frowning to really sell the act.

While Hyunjin was busy getting a standing ovation for his main role as the Drama Queen in his own stageplay, you opened the eyeshadow palette and took a look at what colors were still left. There was still quite a bit of the glittery grey and black left, playing right into your plans of bedazzling your boyfriend.

“Are you gonna move your arm or do I have to resort to tickling? You know I will.” – you asked him with a raised eyebrow, threateningly placing your free hand on the sliver of skin that was revealed by his shirt riding up his stomach. That earned you a squeak alongside him wanting to fold together beneath you, grabbing your hands into both of his larger ones.

“I give up, you win”, he giggled and sunk back into the pillows behind him, “just make sure that it’s so good, that at least Han or Felix get jealous, I feel like bragging.”

“Always the best for my princess. It’s gonna be black and grey, by the way.”

He just gave a lazy hum in response and with that you leaned your body over his and started applying the eyeshadow to his eyelids. His hands eventually comfortably rested on the side of your thighs, squeezing every now and then, as he dutifully stood still for you to do your thing. The whole process was weirdly therapeutic for both of you.

For you, because simply being this close to him was already a comfort, the motions of your brush calming as it glided over his soft skin but also because making your boyfriend look pretty was kind of one of your favorite things to do. You already looked forward to him admiring himself in one of the mirrors, smiling softly to himself and that alone made the whole thing worth it.

For him, because he also revelled in the fact that you were so close that he could idly play with the fabric of your clothes but also because Hyunjin simply liked feeling taken care of. You going through the effort of applying make up to him just because you wanted to made him feel just that, an ease settling in his heart.

Time flew by and soon you moved back from his face, letting out a small groan accompanied by ‘my back hurts’. Despite Hyunjin’s protests and whines, you got up to get a small hand mirror to show him the results.

As soon as his eyes fell upon the glittery eyeshadow decorating his eyelids, he let out a little ‘ooh’ before grabbing the mirror from you to see your work closer. The smile that found its way onto his lips made your heart jump in your chest in happiness.

“Maybe you should become one of my stylists. You get to do my make up all the time and I get to annoy you every single day” – he mused, turning his head from left to right to get different angles of his makeup.

“You know what, maybe I should. Then I get to see Felix every day” – you sighed and hugged him from the side, nuzzling your face into his shirt.

“Yah, you’re supposed to be there for me!”

While giggling and playfighting, the two of you eventually sent a few pictures of your artistry into the groupchat, letting Hyunjin brag like he wanted to.

Felix, Han and even Chan did end up demanding that you do theirs next.

[capitalisticveins]

Lots of Headcanons #1

Due to recent events I'm writing lots of mini headcanons to liven the mood, starting with my very BESTEST FRIEND @cyc-chilla

Avior

Avior has a drawing tablet he uses whenever he gets stressed, which is a lot.

He specializes in backgrounds, landscapes, and designs/patterns.

He prefers digital art rather than traditional art since it’s more forgiving, but he still dabbles in watercolors a lot.

Avior doesn’t often eat human food since it’s not necessary but when Starlight speaks about their favorite foods, or cooks anything, he usually tries the food, whether it looks appetizing or not.

He played tic-tac-toe almost 100 times to entertain himself in “hell”, and he lost to himself more than half of that amount.

Sam

As a kid, Sam would usually hang out in the nearest park, away from home, and try bringing home critters from there. Whether it was a squirrel, bugs, rabbits, stray cats, didn’t matter. He liked picking them up and trying to take them home. It worked a few times but someone would always find the animal and toss it back out.

Sam was a cowboy for Halloween from the ages of 7-12, and he regrets telling Darlin’ about it every passing day.

He hasn’t bought a new iPhone since 2018.

The only holiday his family spent together was Christmas, and he missed it greatly when he moved to Dahlia. He didn’t celebrate with the House for a number of reasons, so the first one he spent with other people since moving was when he started dating Darlin’ and he felt emotional during the entire day.

Butter Pecan is not his favorite ice cream flavor, he just says it is to make people mad. He still likes it, though

He spent an entire summer when he was 11 selling lemonade and water in his local park to raise money to buy a SNES. He never did have enough to buy one but he had a shit ton of money for an 11 year old.

Him going to Six Flags in Cali was the first and only time he’s ever been to an amusement park.

Porter

When she was alive, Porter got his mother a bouquet of flowers every year for mothers day, with differing handwritten notes. Even after his presumed death, she’d get flowers sent to her home every mothers day, and to this day a bundle of flowers and notes are put on her grave.

He uses a flip phone when calling people he doesn’t like so he can hang up on them by slamming it shut.

He finger guns himself in the mirror

Porter cried when the Queen died

His love-language is gift-giving, so Treasure just has a bunch of real expensive jewelry in one of their drawers because Porter gives them so much of it.

Although he prefers physical touch, and Treasure always delivers it.

Porter wears eyeliner.

Caelum

Cannot color inside the lines of a coloring book

Caelum does not like feeling constricted, so whenever he’s on Elegy he makes his form wear flowy and loose clothes to give himself space

Whenever he drinks kool-aid he rushes to the nearest mirror to look at his tongue changing color

When using a coloring book, he usually draws with a single color crayon, no two colors unless he’s drawing it for his siblings, Freelancer, or Gavin.

He finds bunk beds adorable until it’s time for him to sleep on one

Caelum cannot sleep on a normal day. He can try, and he can pretend, but if he’s not doing it to help someone else, he can’t just “go to sleep”, he’s too excited for anything and everything.

Due to accelerated energy, Caelum (and most Empathy Daemons) flies faster and for longer than other demons.

He gave his physical form braces once, took them off almost immediately.

[bougiebutchbinch]

I’m back to talk about transfemme Wade (who I think would refuse to go by Wanda bc “we already have one of them, don’t wanna confuse the fans!”) but in an embarrassing amount of thought so anon-

I feel like she has so many wigs that sit along the wall of their room, one for every occasion (Logan talked her out of getting a massive Miku length one bc she would never take care of it Well enough-), her favorite is the Barbie of just a cute blonde ponytail that sometimes she’d clip colorful strips into. Sometimes she showers wearing a wig for the Euphoria of her bf being pissed there’s a bunch of plastic in the drain- she goes through so many phases of what style she likes, their living room was full of amazon boxes at some point and Logan was ‘forced’ to sit through a fashion show and give his opinions, and while he doesn’t know the difference between Lolita (THE STYLE THE STYLE!!!!) and Harijuku, all he knows is his girl is beaming and rambling a mile a minute and he can’t make himself veto any outfit she shows off. Unfortunately his real favorite look of hers involves the same t shirts and boxers she wore before coming out, no makeup, no wig, face mushed into his chest and just Content as can be. He doesn’t care about her putting on a big effort to look femme (though will always lovingly praise looks so the RSD doesn’t trigger), as long as she’s happy and safe, he’s so lucky to have her 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 anyways I go ESPLODE NOW thinking of my self ship with her-

WAILS AND RUBS MY FACE ALL OVER THIS LIKE A HAPPY CAT

AWHHHHHHH

she is everything to me. EVERYTHINGGGGG

[UNDER A CUT for discussions of bottom dysphoria - as well as related self-inflicted violence, but in a Poolverine way where violence is consensual and sexy and fun for everyone involved!]

I need her to be happy and to find joy and to have a million wigs and for Logan to love her just as much with them as without them, while bitching something rotten while he pulls the gross wads of plastic faux-hair out the drain

I need her to drape herself over Logan's lap like a happy housecat only Logan's the one who starts (embarrassedly) purring as he strokes her because he's so delighted and comfortable in his life right now~ And Wade is just being VIBRATED by the very loud proof of her boyfriend's love of her.... And she is smiling the GOOFIEST grin while Logan turns bright red!

I need her to turn to Logan after a long day of murder and they start pulling voraciously at each other's clothes - only Logan freezes STARSTRUCK because. Damn. And Wade's kinda confused and a bit self conscious, but tries to hide it under jokes until Logan says in this gruff, choked voice - "You look so fucking good in red" and she looks down to see where she's pulling off her costume and she's just fucking covered in this glossy red satin dress of her own blood ❤️

(And Logan maybe buys her a long red evening dress that she's probably never gonna have occasion to wear, but he's flushing so much when he presents it that he almost matches the colour, and he wants to see her in it so bad, and whenever Wade wears it around the house just casually, she gets picked up and fucked against the nearest wall lmao)

I need Logan dipping her effortlessly in a kiss, and she feels so fucking weightless in his arms ❤️

I need them baking together before Laura comes around and they both keep burning shit but they're laughing and having a good time and there's a smudge of flour on Wade's nose and Logan is imploding internally over how cute she is

I also need her to casually say to Logan one day when the Bottom Dysphoria is particularly bad, 'hey can you chop off my dick while fucking me and then just keep chopping it off whenever it tries to grow back??' and Logan is like 'what the fuck babe' and 'I have a vague sense that I shouldn't enable this' and 'babe are you fucking sure' and Wade is like 'yeah I get off on pain and that would make me very very happy, plus it will do no lasting damage <3' and Logan is like 'OOKAY I GUESS' and then they have fun horrific bloody mutilation sex that would look absolutely awful to anyone else but is actually very tender and affirming and cute

[anonymousewrites]

Apple of My Eye Chapter One

Eventual! Harry Hook x Child of Snow White! Reader

Chapter One: Be Our Guest

Summary: The VKs arrive at Auradon, and (Y/N) is determined to show them that they want to be friends.

            “I can’t believe he’s really going through with this,” said Audrey.

            “Ben doesn’t go back on his word,” said (Y/N). “That’s not who he is.”

            They stood on the lawn outside of Auradon Prep. Ben was still getting ready Fairy Godmother. Everyone was nervous (and Fairy Godmother because of this whole idea being “dangerous,” Ben because if it went wrong it was his fault as king-to-be, and the students because who were these “Villain Kids”). Still, people were curious, so they’d come to greet the VKs (standing back to give the limousine room). The band was the closest. (Y/N) and Audrey stood right behind them.

            Audrey huffed and smoothed out her skirt. She wore a pink dress with gold embellishments and a blue cardigan. It was a carefully presented princess look with the accents of her parentage.

            (Y/N) wasn’t much better, though they were more relaxed. Audrey wanted—she had bragged about it—to show the VKs what royalty here with the heroes looked like. (Y/N) just wanted to look put-together, even if they, like other kids, favored their parent’s colors and motif. Today they wore jeans, a white blouse, and a royal blue vest overtop. Three hearts were stitched on the vest in red, and a red bow kept their hair out of their face. Finally, they wore a gold and white necklace with a small red apple charm, their favorite accessory.

            “I still don’t like it,” said Audrey. “I don’t trust them.”

            “We don’t know them,” reminded (Y/N).

            “Whatever.” Audrey plastered a smile on her face as Ben came out with Fairy Godmother. “It’s not me who’s stuck with them forever. You’re so unlucky.”

            “I volunteered,” said (Y/N), smiling with just as much politeness as Audrey.

            “Everyone ready?” said Ben, watching the limo enter the grounds.

            “As we’ll ever be,” said Fairy Godmother with a strained smile.

            The driver opened the door of the limo, and two boys came tumbling out—Carlos, son of Cruella de Ville, and Jay, son of Jafar. After them, not scrambling and fighting on the ground, two girls stepped out—Mal, daughter of Maleficent, and Evie, daughter of the Evil Queen. ((Y/N) had made sure to know who they were).

            The band stopped playing as everyone watched the fighting.

            “Ow, stop!” said Carlos. “You got everything else, why do you want whatever this is?!”

            “ ‘Cause you want it,” said Jay.

            “Give it to me!” said Carlos.

            Fairy Godmother stepped forward as the band nervously parted.

            “Guys, guys, guys,” said Mal, grabbing their attention. “We have an audience.” She put on a smile. “Just cleaning up.”

            “Get up,” said Jay, pulling Carlos to his feet.

            “Leave it like you found it,” said Fairy Godmother in a sing-song voice. “And by that I mean just leave it.”

            Jay and Carlos shoved the stolen technology back in the limo while Mal smiled tersely and Evie smiled brightly.

            “Hello, foxy,” said Jay, grinning at Audrey. “The name’s Jay.” He winked.

            Audrey laughed nervously. She had to admit Jay was attractive.

            “Welcome to Auradon Prep,” said Fairy Godmother before the situation could get weirder. “I’m Fairy Godmother, Headmistress.”

            “The Fairy Godmother?” said Mal. “As in, ‘Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo?’ ”

            “Bibbidi-Bobbidi you know it,” said Fair Godmother.

            “Yeah, I always wondered what it felt like for Cinderella when you just appeared, out of nowhere, with that sparkly wand and warm smile,” said Mal. “And that sparkling wand.” She really reiterated the word.

            “That was a long time ago,” said Fairy Godmother. “And as I always say, ‘Don’t focus on the past or you’ll miss the future.’ ”

            “It’s so good to finally meet you all,” said Ben, smiling and stepping forward. “I’m Ben.”

            “Prince Benjamin,” said Audrey. “Soon to be king.” She smiled condescendingly as Ben shifted at her tone.

            “You had me at prince,” said Evie. “My mom’s a queen. Which makes me princess.”

            “The Evil Queen has no royal status here,” said Audrey with a simpering smile. Evie’s face fell. “And neither do you.”

            Ben chuckled awkwardly. “This is Audrey.”

            “Princess Audrey,” she corrected him. She took his hand. “His girlfriend. Right, Bennyboo?”

            Ben just smiled awkwardly and cleared his throat. “And this is (Y/N).”

            “Or, as Audrey would introduce me, ‘their Highness’ (Y/N),” they joked with an exaggerated eyeroll and a smile. That got a small a snort from Mal and a light smile from Evie.

            “Ben, Audrey, and (Y/N) are going to show you all around,” said Fairy Godmother. “And I’ll see you tomorrow. The doors of wisdom are never shut! But the library hours are from 8:00 to 11:00. And as you may have heard, I have a little thing about curfews.”

            Everyone laughed politely as she walked off.

            “I always say she should extend the hours to midnight if she wants to make that joke,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            That joke was a bit better, and it relaxed Ben enough to clap his hands and step forward. “It’s so, so, so good to finally meet you all.” He reached to shake Jay’s hand, and Jay punched him (in a friendly manner) in the shoulder. Then he shook Mal’s hand. He slowed and looked at her for a long moment.

            (Y/N) tilted their head. Huh.

            “This is a momentous occasion,” started Ben again. “And one that I hope will go down in history…” He shook Carlo’s hands and noticed something on his fingers. He smiled. “Is that chocolate?” He shook—or tried to—shake Evie’s hand last. “One that will go down in history as the day our two peoples began to heal.”

            “Or the day you showed four people where the bathrooms are,” said Mal.

            Ben let out a genuine laugh at her quip. Audrey’s grip on his arm tightened. (Y/N) chuckled.

            “A little bit over the top?” said Ben.

            “A little more than a little bit,” said Mal honestly. She and Ben both chuckled.

            “Well, so much for my first impression,” said Ben. He laughed and smiled at Mal.

            “Hey, you’re Maleficent’s daughter, aren’t you?” said Audrey, cutting in. “Yeah, you know what? I totally do not blame you for your mother trying to kill my parents and stuff.” She gave a fake smile. “Oh, my mom’s Aurora. Sleeping—”

            “Beauty,” finished Mal. She wasn’t backing down from Audrey of all people. “Yeah, I’ve heard the name. You know, and I totally do not blame your grandparents for inviting everyone in the world but my mother to their stupid christening.” She gave a terse smile as wide as Audrey’s.

            “Water under the bridge,” said Audrey with a fake laugh.

            “Totes!” said Mal, mocking Audrey’s voice.

            “And (Y/N), you’re over what happened between your and Evie’s moms, right?” said Audrey.

            Don’t bring me into this, thought (Y/N). They could already tell Audrey and Mal were going to be a problem, and they wanted no part of the friction.

            “We’ve got another fairest of them all?” said Mal, raising a brow at (Y/N).

            Evie shifted as she looked at (Y/N). She hadn’t expected to see her mom’s nemesis’s kid so soon (was she supposed to dislike them? Would that make her mom proud? Should she confront them like Mal if they were rude?)

            (Y/N) took this as a chance to distance themself from Audrey. “The only superlative I’m getting from my mom is ‘least likely to eat an apple.’ ”

            Evie relaxed a little. She wouldn’t have to confront her (inherited?) nemesis yet.

            (Y/N) smiled. “So, now that introductions are out of the way, how about a tour?”

            “Good idea,” said Ben, thankful that someone had their head on straight. He gestured to the school as they started walking. “Auradon Prep, originally built over three hundred years ago, first called Merlin Academy, converted into a high school by my father when he became king.” He paused in front of the statue of King Adam. He clapped. It shifted into the Beast.

            Carlos screamed and jumped into Jay’s arms.

            “Carlos, it’s okay,” said Ben kindly. “My father wanted his statue to morph from beast to man to remind us that anything is possible.”

            “Does he shed much?” remarked Mal.

            “Yeah, Mom won’t let him on the couch,” said Ben, easily going with her quips.

            “Springtime after the winter coat is the worst,” whispered (Y/N) conspiratorially.

            Mal found it unexpected but couldn’t help an amused smile.

            They continued inside the building.

            “So, you guys have a lot of magic here at Auradon?” asked Mal. “Like wands and things like that?”

            “It exists, but not a lot of people use it nowadays,” said (Y/N). “After all, most of us are ordinary mortals.”

            “Who happened to be kings and queens,” said Mal.

            “That’s true. Our royal blood goes back hundreds of years,” said Audrey proudly, looping Ben’s arm around her.

            “Doug,” called (Y/N) as they spotted their friend and saved the conversation from the awkwardness Audrey was creating. “Doug, come down.”

            Doug smiled and walked down the stairs. Ben unlooped his arm from Audrey and went over to meet him.

            “This is Doug,” said Ben. “He and (Y/N) are gonna help you with your class schedules and show you the rest of the dorms.”

            “Doug has a room near Carlos and Jay, and I have a room near Evie and Mal,” explained (Y/N). “We’ll show you where you are if you have any questions.” They smiled. “We’re here to help.”

            “I’ll see you later, okay?” Ben’s eyes lingered on Mal. “And if there’s anything you need, feel free to—”

            “Ask Doug or (Y/N),” interrupted Audrey. She gave a forced laugh, and Mal joined her. Audrey took Ben’s arm and dragged him out as he smiled awkwardly as the four villain kids.

            “Hi, guys,” greeted Doug nervously. “I’m Dopey’s son. As in Dopey, Doc, Bashful, Happy, Grumpy, Sleep, and…”

            “Sneezy,” finished (Y/N) as Doug’s jaw dropped open upon seeing Evie.

            “Heigh-ho,” he exclaimed quietly.

            “Evie,” said Evie. She smirked. “Evil Queen’s daughter.”

            (Y/N) looked between the two for a moment, decided to tease Doug later, and looked at Doug’s clipboard. “Alright, so we have your schedules ready. Electives can be changed around, so if someone likes fashion more than art or prefers music to cooking or stuff like that, just let us know and we can tell you your options and walk you through that.”

            “The requirements are already put in,” said Doug. “But we can change classes if you’re more ahead or farther behind in a subject.”

            “We put you in the standard for our age, but there are always variations in talent and curriculum across the kingdoms,” said (Y/N). They sighed as they looked at the paper. “But you do have to take this class called ‘Remedial Goodness 101.’ ” They held up their hands. “Don’t ask me what that’s about, but it’s with Fairy Godmother, so it’ll be cliché and easy to pass.”

            “Let me guess,” said Mal. “New class?”

            Doug grimaced before getting distracted by Evie twirling her hair.

            “Come on, let’s go find our dorms,” said Mal. They started heading up the stairs.

            “Uh, dorms are that way,” said (Y/N), gesturing to the other stairs.

            The VKs slowed, turned around, and followed (Y/N) and Doug.

l

            Doug split off with the boys while (Y/N) continued down another corridor with the girls.

            “There are bathrooms adjacent to each room, so you don’t have to share with anyone other than your roommate,” explained (Y/N). “Our names are on our doors, so you know who is where.” They arrived at a door at the end of the hall. “And here we are, your room.” They paused. “The room is going to be very…princessy? Stereotypical, that is, for showing people around and for guests. They can’t have it empty of all decoration. I know it’s probably not your style. But you can customize it and redecorate however you want.” (Y/N) smiled as they opened the door.

            Sure enough, the room was lit by the sun flowing through lace curtains. Fluffy pink beds with bows and pastel covers sat on two sides of the room. A soft carpet covered the floor. Vases of flowers stood on the desks, and paintings of various royals decorated the walls.

            “Yeah…everyone customizes,” said (Y/N), laughing upon seeing Mal’s expression. Evie seemed much more enchanted by the room. She liked the regality of it all, and (Y/N) couldn’t blame her. “So, I’ll leave you two to settle in, classes start tomorrow, and I’m just down the hall if you need me. It’s never a problem, my roommate, Lizzie Darling, is always listening to music and off in her own world, so you won’t be disturbing us.” They went to close the door, paused, and opened it. “By the way, Evie—”

            Evie straightened, and Mal narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

            “—I love your jacket. It looks really nice.” (Y/N) smiled. “I would have said so earlier, but Audrey would have started talking about her clothes, and I’ve already heard all the stories, and there’s only so many Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather stories I can stomach in a day. Bye!” They closed the door.

            Letting out a breath, (Y/N) headed to their room. They had been themself, and, hopefully, that had been enough. They understood that the VKs wouldn’t trust anyone to begin with—this was a completely new place and culture compared to where they grew up—but (Y/N) hoped that they’d find some friends and have a nice time in Auradon. And (Y/N) hoped they knew that (Y/N) was being honest when they were friendly, they weren’t putting on an act.

l

            Evie smiled to herself as the door closed. “They like my outfit.”

            “They’re just being nice,” said Mal. “Trying to get us to relax or whatever. That’s manipulation 101.”

            “They don’t seem so bad,” said Evie.

            Mal frowned. “I guess they were…amusing. But we’re here for a job. Let’s get the boys, get the wand, and get out of here.”

            Evie sighed. “I should have told them I like their outfit. It was cute.”

            “Focus, E,” said Mal. “What would your mom want you to do? Compliment them? Or work to free her?”

            “Right, right,” said Evie, straightening. Still, she did like (Y/N)’s outfit. Was it really a betrayal of her mom to compliment Snow White’s child?

            …Probably.

Taglist:

@neenieweenie

@hampterfae

@american-idiot-jpg

@lunalixya

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

i could never be lost, all the street signs read your name; is this the same place you once kissed me?

make yourself at home; chapter one.

6.5k. no warnings besides tension and parental disapproval and mentions of beauty standards (and tedious amounts of exposition).

(a/n: okay, favorites. to those of you that remember my tyson story, this chapter will look very familiar. i added this beautiful gif in honor of that. i promise that the other chapters (like, from three onwards) will be practically entirely new. with that being said, it is my pleasure to introduce you to olive and russell. you'll see as we progress, but do not be fooled by the "she's not like other girls" potential this story has. i hope to prove to you that the kind of beauty that i'm talking about is all about kindness and patience and thoughtfulness. all i ask is that you give this is shot. if it's not for you, if you can't look past the lack of x reader or direct hockey relationship, that's completely okay. olive, at one point, was simply "kid'" - the way some of my characters have been sugar or baby or doll. and russell was once tyson. i am incredibly nervous to share this with you, to embark and commit to sharing more with you in the future. as such, i hope you will respect and honor my vulnerability. but i'm also excited! very much so! to you and your snakes. thank you thank you thank you. and i still want to gush about hockey with you - just send me an ask! love you always).

it had probably been too long since olive fleming had been home.  it had probably been too long since she’d last ventured back to granite falls, new york, but, in her defense, the trek from los angeles was long and daunting.  olive made the trip as infrequently as possible, so each time she found herself back in this town, part of her expected it to look unrecognizable.  it never did.  

it was impossible not to recognize the slow-moving streets, lined by pine trees and the same storefronts, same quaint buildings, same lightposts that needed repairing.  every time she drove through, olive felt a stab of guilt in her chest that she swallowed down dry, like some hefty pill.  

the directions displayed on the screen of her phone were more a comfort than a necessity - she would know the route to her street blindfolded, maybe dead, but it was sort of nice to think that she needed help getting there, to think that she had grown up so much that she no longer knew this place the way you know the songs that your that dad used to play in the car on the way to school when you were young - entirely and wholly, if not a little senselessly.

in what felt like a blink, olive had already made it into the driveway, her subtly luxurious suv suddenly feeling much too big and attention-seeking.  she felt as if she might as well have been driving a limousine, maybe one of those sleek borderline race-cars painted some flashy color.  something entirely out of place, something desperately screaming look at me, even though she didn’t want anyone to see her at all.  even her reflection in the rearview mirror above the dashboard made her flinch.  meeting her own eyes was recognition enough to be jarring.

olive finally shifted her car into park and unbuckled her seatbelt, her hands still gripping the wheel hard enough that her knuckles paled.  "arrived at home," the robotic voice from her phone said, which made her choke out a short laugh, ugly and tired.  in all ways but the ones that mattered, yes, she supposed, this was home, at least for a little while longer.  just until she packed up all her things from her parents’ house, just until she drove her life back to los angeles and stayed there, this time for good.

would it be frowned upon to leave the car running? just in case she needed to make a quick exit, like some blockbuster-movie spy, tucking and rolling from a plane mid-flight?  olive groaned, laid her head down against the steering wheel, careful not to press her forehead down hard enough to honk.

this was exactly what coming home always felt like - frustration to the point of madness, self control to the point of lunacy.  home left olive crazy, either way.  

“you must be so excited to get out of your favorite city,” her manager, celeste, had said to her over the phone just before she left.  celeste was something of a close friend, after a few years of partnering and working together.  she was fully aware of olive’s subpar relationship with her hometown, but she also knew olive wasn’t the biggest fan of los angeles either.  olive had entertained the possibility that she was just hard to please on multiple occasions.

olive had laughed at this comment.  “oh, for sure,” she had agreed, “but out of the frying pan and into the fire, you know.”  Into the longest-burning fire she’d ever known.  she was thinking about that conversation with her manager when a sharp knock on her car window forced her head to snap up.  

olive’s mother, danica, was looking warily at her from the other side of the glass as she rolled down her window, blinking at the woman she hadn’t seen in a while, registering her presence while attempting to summon a normal reaction.

“hey, mom,” was the lackluster greeting olive landed on, internally cringing at her tone.  she realized she was still gripping the steering wheel and dropped her hands to her lap as if she’d been burned, the way you’re taught to when caught in a lightning storm.  

her mother let out a soft laugh, but her gaze was sharp.  “going to wait out in the car all day, are you?” she asked.  olive could feel her heartbeat in her head, the kind of pressure she always felt when on this end of her family’s disapproval.  “come in, olive, not like we get to see you every day.”

olive felt a smile stretch across her face, false and heavy like a waxy halloween mask, like her lip gloss weighed something severe.  “yeah, i’ll be right in,” she said, willing any shake out of her voice.  “it’s good to see you.”

her mother murmured her agreement before turning to head back inside, which olive supposed was better than nothing.  an important reminder that things could be so much worse, that she could be grateful for what she had, that someone better probably would be.

olive took a last stabilizing breath before finally getting out of the car, pulling her suitcases from the trunk and entering her childhood home through the front door.

she’s back? the doorbell seemed to whisper to the bushes by the porch steps, it’s been a while, no?

the bushes shook their heads in condemnation, she’s so unappreciative, they said, so selfish and vain.

“you don’t know me,” olive muttered as she lifted her luggage into the doorway, the wheels on the bottom making a clicking noise as they made contact with the hardwood of the mudroom.  she could hear her mother humming quietly in the kitchen.

“who are you talking to?” 

olive recognized that slow and deliberate voice as her father, jerry, and quickly turned to greet him, eager to change the subject away from her talking to inanimate objects and plants.  “dad,” she said, smiling at him despite his sour expression.  “how’s it going?”

“is that a new car?” he asked, bypassing a hello, his gaze already wandering from her, straying to her vehicle through the window.  her stomach turned.  she knew what was coming.  “how’d you afford a new car?”

olive laughed, like he’d said something tastefully funny, waved him off.  “my job pays me for what I do, dad,” she clarified, “you know how jobs work.”  olive regretted it immediately.  she realized how patronizing she sounded.

her father’s grimace and grumbly voice wasn’t lost on her.  “right,” he said, “your job.”  his voice took on a slight sarcastic tone at the last word, even though she supposed that was to be expected.  it still stung, just as it had before she left for college, just as it had during every venture back to granite falls before this one.  

“let her put her things away, jerry,” danica called from the next room over.  he started to roll his eyes, then appeared to remember he had an audience midway through, his annoyance dissolving instantaneously into something like boredom.  

he nodded to olive.  “off you go, then,” he said, phrasing odd and stiff, like some black-and-white film actor, making olive scrunch her nose up in distaste as she lugged her bags up the staircase and rolled them into her bedroom, the last door at the end of the hallway.

upon entering, her gaze flickered to her bed, low to the ground, the comforter a pastel pink, the sheets printed with a pretty tulip pattern.  it was every bit the bed of a child, but there was something she liked about it, even now.

olive sighed, pushed her suitcases to the closet door and left them there before sitting down on the edge of her bed, letting herself fall back until she felt the softness of her sheets on the back of her neck.  travel always took it out of her, but this fatigue went deeper than just jet lag.  it was a tiredness she felt in her chest, on the roof of her mouth, coating her throat like a lemon ginger lozenge.  

olive wanted to enjoy being home more than anything.  the desire ran so deep it felt like it had infected her bloodstream.  she wanted to feel comfortable and welcome, like she belonged here, but she didn’t, not really.  she hadn’t felt that way in a while, probably not since she was a teenager.  at twenty-two, that felt scarily long ago.  

she exhaled and rose again, looking around her room with displeasure.  the space was just so cluttered.  even her bedside table was practically overflowing with trinkets and picture frames, old books and school binders.  sorting through everything and packing it up was probably going to be quite the laborious task, could take longer than she anticipated.  was this room smaller than she remembered it?  the walls closer together, the ceiling lower, perhaps?

“dinner’s ready!”

her mother’s voice once again shook olive from her thoughts, her eyelids fluttering.  “coming!”

family dinners at the fleming household had taken on many shapes and sizes over the years.  When danica had been in the thick of her corporate law career, as demanding as anything, such events had not existed on a consistent basis.  instead, olive and her father would scramble to put together something like cereal, or pasta with butter, or if they were feeling fancy, tomato soup and grilled cheese.  olive’s mother always ate at her firm, or on the way home.  

danica, thanks to her hard work, was able to retire quite early, not into lavish wealth or anything resembling it, but early enough and into a general sense of comfort.  it was then that family dinners became a bit more frequent in the household.  after jerry got home from work, he would call olive down from her bedroom, and then the three of them would sit around their small table, chatting about whatever had occurred during the short time they had spent apart.  

of course, once olive reached a certain age, she wasn’t always around for dinner time, and her parents didn’t require her to be.  it did mean that they grew sort of out of practice though, as olive was home less and less.  when olive went to college across the country, that lack of familiarity wasn’t really felt, but whenever she was home from school, when they were all forced together again, the walls felt to olive as if they had some tripwire hidden within them, some explosive ticking regularly, louder each time that she did something that amassed disapproval.

as olive walked down the stairs now, her steps light enough to not make a sound, she attempted to mentally prepare herself, then shook her head, almost laughing.  it was funny, mentally preparing oneself for salad and roasted chicken.

“is this a new wallpaper?” olive asked cordially as she pulled a wooden chair out and sat down, folding her napkin and placing it in her lap.

“no,” danica responded.

olive had never really been able to miss the slight pinch in her mother’s brow, minute but telling in its distaste.  “same wallpaper as always.  you don’t remember?”

olive forced the corner of her mouth to turn up in a smile, but her stomach was churning with something other than travel-induced hunger.  “it looks great, was all i was going to say.  like new.”

unfortunately, such awkwardness did not evaporate as the dinner progressed, the lack of ease sitting atop the table as naturally as the floral centerpiece.  olive expertly tried to veer the conversation away from herself as gracefully as possible, instead oversaturating the discussion with questions directed at her parents.  

olive was usually quite good at saying the right thing.  it was a huge part of her job, of her success.  she knew what to say in different situations, with different people, in front of different audiences.  home left her deft tongue fumbling though, left words feeling out of reach in her mind, like her mouth was not her own.  

she asked questions about her father’s work and cooking endeavors, her mother’s home renovations and volunteer work at the daycare, but whenever they asked her about her own work, olive would clam up, maybe give that nervous laugh that she disliked so genuinely, make some joke at her own expense.  

by the end of the meal, olive was thoroughly exhausted, socially drained in a way she hadn’t been in a long time.  it didn’t really make a lot of sense to her - she could work a crowd of thousands at an awards show, craft a post palatable for millions, but a simple dinner with her family was where she stumbled?  

“thanks for having me,” was what she said to her parents after she had placed her plate and silverware in the dishwasher, drying her hands with a rag before making to head up to her room.  

this was the wrong thing to say, if her father’s voice and the twitch of his mouth was anything to go off of.  “this is your house,” he said, simple, plain, and olive didn’t even look at her mother, for fear that she’d see some kind of sadness or disappointment that would keep her awake that night.

“right, of course,” she tried, “i just mean thanks.  for, you know, letting me stay here on such short notice.”

“what, like we’re a hotel?” danica said, almost humorous, but there was a shake in her voice that olive read as a storm siren, scarily close to something disastrous.  

olive sighed.  it wasn’t her parents’ fault, and she knew that.  olive knew her wording could be taken as offensive, but she just couldn’t see it until after the words were already out, until they were of no use to anyone.  “no, just,” she tried, then gave up, figuring maybe she just needed some sleep to make her brain work again.  “goodnight.  love you both.”  she’d try again tomorrow.

danica and jerry seemed to soften a bit at this, each quietly returning the sentiment in harmony with olive’s soft footsteps up the staircase, wooden panels giving a comforting creak under her socks, some reminder that she was a physical body, that her weight could be felt.

tomorrow will be better, olive thought as she unzipped one of her suitcases, pulled out her pajamas and got changed.  what she really wanted to do was sink into her bed, sleep the day off and start fresh in the morning.  

“fifteen minutes,” she murmured to herself, her bag of skincare products in one hand, phone and ring light clawed in the other.  “just fifteen minutes.”

after several years of practice, olive could crank out a get unready with me video in just a few moments, but something about setting up her tripod and lighting mechanisms in her childhood bathroom was intimidating, the crossover of worlds leaving her sluggish and self-conscious.  

her apartment in los angeles was practically built for this kind of thing, all ample storage and spacious countertops, and this room was built to be exactly what it was: a child’s bathroom.  it offered not much other than backlighting and cramped corners, faded wallpaper and shower curtains yellowing towards the corners.

olive quickly set up, took a deep breath and summoned a smile, the one reserved for this - the one for video and film and interviews and social media posts.  just big enough to appear genuine, just subdued enough to be sexy, mysterious.  once the camera was rolling, she ran through her nighttime routine, highlighting the moisturizer she was being paid to endorse, before quickly cutting the clips and typing out a caption: get unready with me at home!  She sent the video to her management to be approved by the brand before turning off her harsh light and setting it next to her bag on the closed toilet lid.

even after several years of working in social media, several years of visiting home every now and then, it felt weird to mix the two of them together, almost like a middle school science project with oil and water, like no matter how hard she tried for it to be a natural fit, the two would always make their repulsion known.

olive brushed her teeth, her phone buzzing as she spat into the sink.  With so much of her life existing on her phone, such an occurrence was mundane, but the name that lit up her screen made her blink at herself in the mirror, made the overhead light feel hot, simmering.

are the rumors true? read the message, is the starlet back in town?

olive sighed, couldn't help the tiny smile that pulled at the corner of her lips, regardless - even though she was no starlet, even though the thought of small-town rumors made her breath feel short and shallow.

as much as coming home made her want to tear out her hair extensions one by one, as much as the monotonous judgment from this town made her almost dizzy, there was one thing, or one person rather, whose relentless sameness olive looked forward to, every time, without fail.

that person was russell mcIntyre.

olive had known russell practically forever, or at least for what felt like forever, ever since he and his family moved next door the summer before they started middle school.  she still remembered seeing him for the first time, watching from her big bedroom window as he carried boxes from his mom's minivan up his driveway.

it had started as all lovely things did - so naturally it was hard to pinpoint how exactly it had started.  olive swore she could remember his green eyes meeting her brown ones through the window, his unruly curly hair in his face, like he’d only just woken up, the easiest smile she’d ever seen slanting across his mouth, only barely visible above battered cardboard flaps.  still, she didn't dwell on what exactly had been the beginning of her and russell, knowing it didn’t really matter how it began, only that it was.

all olive really knew was that throughout middle school and high school, russell had been her everything.  her school bus seat buddy, her locker neighbor, her smile shared across the classroom.

he was the one who cheered the loudest at her tennis matches, and she never missed one of his baseball games.  he was over hers doing homework every weekday, she was the first person he picked up when he got his license, when he finally could drive his old truck without his anxious mother holding on tight in the passenger seat.  russell was her secret language spoken between opposing bedroom windows, curtains pulled far apart so as not to intrude one’s view of the other while they talked.

of course, as he shed his baby face and she got her braces off, things changed a bit, but not really.  olive was still his stop it, rus, giggled under her breath when he'd make goofy faces in class, just to get her to laugh.

russell was still her you'll be there, right, kid? spoken so earnestly on the morning of a playoff game, something like worry clouding his usually relentlessly bright eyes. worry that had floated away when she’d hugged him close, mumbled her of course into his chest.

his constant support, his never-wavering smirk of a smile, it had been exactly what she needed during one of the most turbulent times of her life.

high school is weird for everybody, but it was especially weird for olive.  she was a people pleaser, an approval seeker, and at some point she began to realize that others weren't always as forgiving as she was, that other people may not give her the benefit of the doubt, as she tended to afford them for free.

it got worse when olive realized that she was pretty.

sometimes, olive felt as if she had been beautiful since she could listen, since she could first turn her gaze on someone and make them feel heard, make them feel seen.

that was a big part of it all - her quiet kindness, combined with that lovely smile, with that careful posture and easy laugh - it seemed that others had become acutely aware of her beauty long before she had.  She caught on, eventually.

olive was sixteen when she started to feel the weight of male attention on her in the hallways, when her bare legs in the warm weather started to feel heavy with expectation, when she started to notice how groups of girls would turn and giggle behind their hands when they thought she was just out of earshot.

it was exciting, at first.  girls wanted to talk to her, to be close with her.  guys wanted to hang out with her.  people wanted to give her things, seemingly for nothing.  she distinctly remembered one humid night, in russell's bedroom, just after he had driven them both home after his practice.  his hair had been damp at the roots, his face still a bit flushed in that rosy way she loved.

he'd been scrolling on his phone while she worked on a geometry problem set, half-focused, the other half telling him about the senior in her economics class who had asked for her snapchat.  olive could still picture russell’s narrow gaze, barely looking up from his screen.

"you know he doesn't want to, like, marry you, right, ol?" he'd said, and it was so flippant that it made her pause.

olive had looked up, blinked, felt suddenly so embarrassed she thought she might be sick. "what?" she asked, "yeah, of course, I just-"

"like, he knows nothing about you besides you being hot," russell finished, almost coldly, rolling onto his side on the beanbag he was sprawled across.

and he was right, obviously, but it still felt really mean, felt like tiny drops of flame were pricking at her cheeks.  olive felt that she actually might cry.

"why do you have to say it like that?" she’d asked, hating how pathetic her voice sounded, how it broke towards the end.

this must have gotten his attention, because when russell finally looked up, his eyes flooded with gentle apology.  he let his phone fall to the side, opened up his arms in invitation.

"i’m sorry," he mumbled into her hair when she joined him on his beanbag, let him wrap his arms around her. "'m sorry, ol, know that was mean.  i'm just jealous, i think."  his tone was so matter-of-fact, not trying to hide anything. olive supposed he had always been like that.

she laughed softly into his breastbone, felt the warmth of him all over her face. "you're jealous?" she asked, "what do you have to be jealous about?"

then he gave olive her favorite kind of smile, the one that gave her butterflies even now, even just at the memory.  "maybe 'cause you're in my room, and you're smilin' 'cause of some other guy," he mused, which made her look up at him, find his gaze drenched in completely genuine adoration.

she hummed.

"and i've been trying to get you to see that i like you, and it hasn't been working-"

her heart stuttered, because of course she liked russell.  how could she not, when he was her everything?  when he had been the one who had declared her special, before everyone else had seemed to catch on?

"you like me?" olive had repeated, almost like a prayer, and his big, beautiful eyes had shimmered with something lovely, something almost bashful.

olive swore she could feel something rumbling against his chest.  "well, yeah," he said, "but i don't wanna lose you, kid, so if you don't feel the same way-"

she’d cut him off by pressing her lips to his in a kiss that felt like sunshine, like a sigh of relief, like pillow forts and fall foliage and sunday morning waffles.  so, from then on, not only was olive the beautiful girl, she was the beautiful girl dating the budding baseball superstar, her best friend, her everything.  

as such, olive was seventeen when she realized that as much as it may have seemed that people wanted to give her things, they wanted to take things from her more.  much more.  still, as long as she had her small group of friends, and her grades, and her parents, and russell, she told herself she didn't really need everyone to love her.

as long as she was kind and generous and empathetic, everything would be fine.

it grew tough to turn the other cheek all the time, though.  especially when guys didn't seem to respect that she was in a relationship, when people were starting rumors about her sleeping around, when girls tried to get with her boyfriend just to prove they could take him from her.  they were never successful, but it hurt nonetheless. 

still, she would go to every one of russell's games, as long as he would jog to the fence afterwards to give her a goofy kiss, like he'd missed her, even for just the few hours he'd been playing.

olive would ignore the snide comments in the stands about her outfits as long as he'd whistle afterwards, wrap his arms around her waist, pull her back against him and tell her that he almost dropped an easy ball in the third because she had looked so distracting.

she’d let people assume that she was dumb and obnoxious and entitled as long as he'd ask her about her advanced calculus tests, her data analytics internship over the summer, her speech and debate competition. and that was enough.  for high school, that was enough.

inevitably, it became clear that people wanted what olive had, no matter what it was, no matter how hard she had worked for it.

olive was eighteen when she realized that she could make a career out of people wanting things that she had.

as much as her parents didn’t seem to believe her, social media was something olive stumbled upon accidentally.

just a random post one day, a couple of pictures of her on the tennis court, a few of her in the stands at one of Russell's games, and rather suddenly, olive was flushed with followers and likes, more than she knew what to do with.

of course, this only made the rumors worse, but her real friends thought it was funny, and russell thought it was awesome, so she didn't mind.  she just continued posting exactly what she always did - her outfits and weekends and dinners and the like - nothing crazy, always tasteful, always genuine.

it was only a matter of time before brands were reaching out to her, before she suddenly had the need for management, before her social media accounts actually started to become a source of income.

even at the very beginning, olive recognized how lucky she was for this to even be an option for her - how it was mostly because of something as shallow as appearances, how there was nothing more vain, more potentially vapid than social media.

she never cared about the numbers of it all though, never looked twice at pictures of herself, never scrolled through her comments.  russell was always the first to like her posts anyways, always commenting first! followed by a string of incoherent emojis, usually including the flame one.  once it started to become a business, olive let it be just a business, trying her absolute hardest not to invest any personal stock into her work, making sure to turn her phone off as often as possible.

russell would text her, too, after she posted, something like love the filter on the second photo! or quite the handsome hand in the fourth :) about a picture of her coffee that he was holding.  enough to let her know that he looked at every picture, that he supported her unconditionally, even though olive herself sort of thought the whole ordeal was kind of suspicious, that social media was dumb and not worth anyone's time.  her skepticism of her own work was something of an obstacle then and something of constant now.

given the flash-flood-like nature of her success, olive was at a bit of a crossroads towards the end of high school.  she wanted to get a college degree, that was non-negotiable, but it seemed too good to be true that she could be paid just for being herself online, just for developing a personal brand.  it seemed too good to pass up.

before she knew it, it was time to apply for university, and it only made sense for olive to aim at schools in los angeles, across the country, but right in the arrhythmic heart of her industry.

olive was a good student too, and a hard worker, a quick learner, so she was accepted to her top choice, a school that her parents could brag to their friends about, if they wanted to.  

everything about olive’s choice made logical sense.

just as it only made sense for russell to play for the state school, the reigning champions of their respective league and only a forty-five minute drive from granite falls.

he’d been getting recruited since he was a freshman, and even though he offered every day, the thought of russell changing his whole plan and future for her made olive nauseous.  

long distance loomed over the two of them like a thunderous cloud, and the weight of it felt more deadly than just calling it off, even though splitting up with Russell was still the most painful thing olive could remember enduring.

she vividly remembered him dropping her off at the airport, insisting on carrying her suitcases all the way to security, even if he had to leave his truck idle in the departing flight zone, even though he was definitely going to get a ticket about it.

of course, she still remembered how his bright eyes had gone glassy, how he still tried to smile despite his slightly quivering bottom lip.  how he'd shuddered in her embrace when she hugged him goodbye.  how small his broad shoulders had seemed.

"you'll come back, kid?" he'd asked, almost pleaded, into her neck.

"of course, rus," she’d said, but even the memory of the words felt weightless. "don't forget to call me, okay?  every day, if you can."

he had laughed, short and choppy, wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, like the child that he had been.  his voice was wobbly.  "i’d never forget," he said, and it had felt true then.

and so olive and her everything went separate ways.  she fell into a routine in california, balanced school and her relatively new job as an influencer.  russell had a routine of his own, too, practice and lifts and games and the odd class here and there.

she called everyday, in the beginning, heard about how everyone was really good on rus’s new team, how he was nervous on the field for basically the first time ever, how classes were hard and everything was hard without her.

olive told him about how smart and cool the girls in her classes were, how she really, really wanted them to like her, how she found herself going to baseball games in the fall just because it felt familiar, something to recognize in an unfamiliar fairytale land.

he'd gotten a sad sort of tone in his voice at that.  "how's their shortstop?" he had asked, and her stomach had flipped, because that was his position, and she had a feeling she knew what he was looking for, the only answer that would satisfy him.

"i've seen better," olive had whispered into her phone, the weight of missing him like an anvil on her chest.

even though she and russell weren't together, at that time, in the technical sense of the word, it still sort of felt like they were.

there were guys, sure, and she could only guess what a hit russell was with the sorority end of greek row.  olive wasn’t typically a jealous person, but something sickly rolled through her body at the thought of russell being someone’s class crush, of someone looking him up on the roster after seeing him play.  it was a jealousy that she wasn’t necessarily entitled to, but it was there nonetheless.

olive pretended not to notice, over facetime, when there would be purplish bruises on the column of his throat.  she pretended not to notice how angry it made her that someone else knew what his pulse felt like under their lips, especially when it was that feeling in particular that had made its way into her dreams.

just as russell probably pretended not to notice when the back of some other guy's head would make an appearance in one of olive’s posts, just intriguing and secretive enough to run up the comments, to make her interaction data spike.

even during those years apart, russell still liked every single one of her pictures, still texted her about almost every one of them, but for those ones, the ones that shimmered with someone-else-ness, he was notably silent.  during those times, olive would find herself checking her phone even without a ping-like notification, like her want alone could will his name onto her screen.

neither of them seemed to like the notion that one had an entire life away from the other.  both of them seemed to agree that what they couldn’t see right in front of them couldn't hurt them, as long as they didn’t let it.

every school break though, without fail, the two of them would come home and fall back into whatever they were, without explicitly saying what that was.

What olive knew was that when they were home for thanksgiving, or christmas, or a week in spring, or whatever else, her phone would light up with a text like heard you're around?

usually the night that followed would involve huddling together on the massive bean bag that was still in his room, pretending to watch a movie for a half-hour or so before his lips found hers and her hands found the warm plane of his chest.  the air would be hot with the unspoken truth of just one more time, just until i leave, just for a second because i missed you.

he never treated her differently, never made fun of her job, even though it would have been so easy to, never was anything but supportive.  he was the same gangly boy walking up his driveway, and she was the same shy girl looking at him from her bedroom window, even if that shy girl now had hair extensions and a bit of lip filler and received invitations to black-tie events.

russell never seemed to care about all of that, anyways, even as years went on, and they both returned home less and less, texts and calls becoming less frequent, the distant presence of the other like the lull of a fan at night, a relaxant, a constant white noise, a standard off of which to judge everything else.

now, as olive turned the light out in the bathroom and walked towards her bed, she stared out her window, could almost make russell out in the one just across from her if she tried.  the image of him wasn’t particularly hard to evoke, always waiting just in the wings of the playwright’s perfectly scripted performance in her mind.  olive leaned back against her headboard, stared at the text.  there was a bittersweet sort of taste in her mouth, because this actually would be the last time.

olive and russell had both graduated about a month ago, and after being picked in the draft by the team he had grown up cheering for, he had moved back home to play for their minor league affiliate, not even twenty minutes from his parents’ house, hoping to gain enough traction to eventually earn a spot in the big leagues.

this time would be olive's last routine visit home, one she hoped to spend packing and shipping all of her stuff back to la.  the move only made sense.  she had an absurd amount of followers now, and all her biggest partners were located in southern california.  olive couldn’t really afford to make decisions that didn’t make sense, at this point in her life, in her career.

this would be her last routine visit home, and then upstate new york wouldn't be home anymore.  los angeles would officially occupy that space in her life.  the thought wasn’t as comforting as she hoped it would be.

olive pulled her blush-colored comforter up to her chin, thinking about what to respond, if she even should respond.  the last time she’d seen russell, the last time they’d both been home, they’d done what they always did - fall back into each other so easily it felt like falling asleep.  but that couldn’t happen this time, olive reminded herself.  when she left granite falls this time, she was leaving for good.  her exit would be smoother if she didn’t follow russell into any territory other than the friendly kind.  

they had been friends at first, all that time ago, after all.  how hard could it be to go back to that?

i'm home but we can't fuck because i think i’ll cry if we do! olive typed, then promptly deleted.  she sighed, exhaled some of her anxiety, willed herself to just be normal.  barely in the driveway, she sent instead, how did you already know?

got eyes and ears everywhere, russell sent back almost immediately, and she could practically see his smug smile.  it lit up her dark room like a night light.  told dyl at the library to watch for your car.

olive had no idea who dyl was, but figured she’d probably meet him.  she softened to russell’s message, but it made her feel sort of guilty too, with the knowledge that she would be blindsiding him some time soon.  yet he was, telling his friends to watch for her car, like her arrival was something special, something worth waiting for.

she didn’t know what to say then, so olive just set her phone on her bedside table and tried not to let visions of deep green eyes drown her while she slept.

fin. until next time.

[lurkingshan]

Every You, Every Me

Story 1

I need distractions today, so we are live blogging this soulmate fanfic show I have been told is very fun. Let's go!

RAIN SOULMATES!!! Did they watch La Pluie

La Pluie and Color Rush, apparently

Soulmate blind is an interesting term but what does it mean 👀

I like this guy working at the store, he gives big aro energy. They are definitely all fools to be running around in the rain just to find their soulmate, that can kill you in a Thai bl.

Not so soulmate blind anymore!!

I find the use of color vs black and white for these scenes a bit confusing, it doesn't seem to be following any consistent rules

Oh THAT is what soulmate blind means. Fuck this lying ex tbh!!

(He's kinda hot though)

I have heard these gentleman are Mick and Top, and because of ship naming conventions I am forced to assume the tall tsundere one is Mick. Anyway they pretty

A soulmate non believer, I like it

"Rain-Color Verse" implies the existence of other universes that they are aware of...

This little guy is very cute and I like his yellow kicks

I don't always like the short story/vignette thing, but this romance speed run is perfect for my mood today

This is quality flirting and they have good chemistry

I no longer think the ex is hot 🔪🔪🔪

They're talking about choice vs destiny and the soulmate thing mucking things up they DEFINITELY watched La Pluie my beloved

I've decided the color grading is just them being artsy and I cannot try to find consistent rules in it that way lies madness

Oh noooooooooooo not childhood trauma

My aro rep has arrived I knew it was you my guy! He's even wearing my favorite color while he says he's not interested in love 😌

He stole his mom's necklace?? What is up with this guy 😤

Mmm the actors struggled a bit in that confrontation scene but moving right along

I definitely associate the motorbike embrace primarily with Thai bl

Not the most exciting kiss but it's only ep 1, perhaps they are just warming up

I like that aro guy is happy for them and not disdainful of their romance. It's not for him but he doesn't look down on it.

I liked the first ep well enough! And I've heard it gets better as it goes, so onto the next.

[dreamwreaver]

Thank you for the welcome from my previous ask about Vox, I've been busy and finally I could talk about my thoughts on my favorite couple and the others around them. If it's alright, I'd like to be seen as the "rambling nonnie" because I ramble on too long.

About Vaggie, I noticed a lack of her presence in the leaks, which for me, means she's gonna be put in the back seat yet again. I also feel like whatever supposedly important role she's gonna get it's gonna be tied to Charlie. Again. Like everytime.

"Vaggie's the manager of the hotel!" Oh, wow, does she have a genuine interest in redeeming sinners? "No, she does it for Charlie!"

"Vaggie has an interesting arc regarding her thirst for revenge and she should fight for love instead of fighting her detestation for her awful fellow soldiers!" Well, did that arc thoroughly develop her as a character? "No, it was pointless because she didn't really show any signs of vengeful bloodlust before that song and she was already loyal and fighting for Charlie!"

Honestly, what really strikes out to me was the fact Vaggie didn't change her mind as an exorcist because of Charlie, she made the realization herself. But even though that's the case, why was a single demon child enough to shift sides? Are we just gonna gloss over the fact she killed hundreds of sinners each year and kept that from Charlie for years? And didn't punish her or give her huge consequences for her actions?? The most the show did was just make her and Charlie have a fallout for like half of the episode, then near the end of it, the two of them make up because of a shrunken head souvenir and a conversation with Rosie who was a third party that didn't even know Vaggie???

While Alastor and Vaggie were no different when it came to being murderers, at least Alastor didn't keep it a secret and he suffered the consequences of his actions anyway. What makes Vaggie better than him, really? That she didn't have a choice in it? That she didn't enjoy it? True, but keep in mind she most likely had a higher kill count than Alastor and those sinners will never have the chance to redeem themselves and she has never fully apologized for her actions to the princess of those people and likely never will. After all, her very kindhearted girlfriend forgave her, right? Without even having a long, hard conversation onscreen, right? And that's good enough for most of the fandom.

Allow me the indulgence of a rambley the raccoon gif for you nonny

And vaggie, I feel like she was flattened from pilot to series in a big way. Right down to her design. Like she went from having stripes and x's as a motif to just red and black. Wow, so different. It looks like a uniform. Charlie wearing a red suit makes sense since she wants to be taken seriously and we see in her battle outfit that she wears red so red could just be a favorite color of hers, or the color of the royal family given the apple is the fruit of knowledge they're going with here.

Alastor, well he probably didn't have much input on his design and color scheme. The suit is 30s based so I'm not surprised at the style, one of the older comics shows him sporting a straw boater which he then tosses to a group of cannibal ladies to watch them tear each other apart over it. He enjoys the attention but doesn't get much out of it. But vaggie?

The most insight we get into her character is likely her nightgown and her own battle outfit. But the nightgown is a reference to her heavenly origins and the battle outfit is clearly a Carmilla carmine design. And the soft femme angle could work if they didn't make her the straight man to all the other characters. And in a cast like this she's not the voice of reason so much as the stick in the mud. Half of the conflicts in the show are summed up as:

Vaggie: Charlie no!

Charlie: Charlie yes!

Usually with Alastor indulging her. And when things blow up in her face there's no moment of vaggie even getting an "I told you so" of ANY kind! And let's be real, I'm sure that Charlie loves vaggie, but I'm not 100% sold on Vaggie TRULY loving Charlie. I definitely think she BELIEVES she loves Charlie, but this is a white knight/savior complex. Charlie saved her when vaggie had nothing, therefore vaggie must protect Charlie to be worthy of being her partner. Vaggie was not ready to be in a relationship after being abandoned in Hell. Let's be real, there's a bit of prejudice to Vaggie's relationship. Isn't it nice that the person the fallen Angel is in a relationship with is of royal blood? She's half angel. Lilith was a full demon when Charlie was born, the only human thing Charlie likely inherited from her mother was her soul. I fully believe that Charlie would and has dated sinners. Would Vaggie? I highly doubt it. She can claim she "believes" in Charlie's idea and vision all she likes, like Rosie said; words are cheap, actions are not.

What about Vaggie's actions show us the audience her love for Charlie? The one instance I can think of off the top of my head is the commercial. That's the ONE time she takes initiative on her own to try and lighten Charlie's workload. The meeting with her father? Yeah she suggested it I guess but the thing about that was that Charlie knows her relationship with her father better than Vaggie does. And, to add, Charlie DOES NOT WANT parental aid in this. She wants to do it on her own. Charlie is both very ignorant and very aware of the privilege of her position. No one respects the royal family sure but she could still crush any sinner she wanted to with a flick of her wrist. And then after that? Vaggie tried to get out of going to heaven, vaggie didn't even attempt to nip the threat of Adam revealing her secret before the meeting, left Charlie open to Alastor's hands by giving her space, and then proceeded to scold her after let me remind you; SHE MADE A DEAL WITH ALASTOR IN EPISODE 1!

Vaggie has absolutely no right to admonish Charlie for making the deal that could save her people when she gladly made a deal with the radio demon just to get a commercial made.

And I know this seems like I hate vaggie as a character but I don't! I wouldn't even mind Chaggie being end game canon and us knowing that from the start so long as it meant we got to SEE their relationship evolve. But Vaggie as a character is inseparable from title of "Charlie's gf" that's it. And the out for love song, it's a banger no doubt about that but seriously?

When did we see Vaggie ever desiring revenge? Her seeing one child during an extermination made such a change in her that she was mortally wounded and left for dead. And she just... moved on? Okay cool. She doesn't hate the exterminations, she's not vehemently trying to stop them AND get the hotel up and running. She's fine hitting the streets to try and get patrons but that's about it. Maybe if we had a b plot of vaggie sneaking away for turf war carnage or being a sort of pentagram city vigilante I would understand the vengeance thing since at least we'd have seen her capacity for violence in action. But nope!

And I cannot tell you how much that stupid keychain frustrates me. Because it's symbolic of what doesn't work about chaggie as it stands. They DONT talk things out. Again, shenanigans are vaggie trying to tell Charlie to change something fundamental about herself or that some idea she has isn't practical, Charlie ignores Vaggie, chaos ensues and then... nothing. The fact that we saw Charlie apologize to angel dust for overstepping his boundaries before we ever saw anything between Charlie and Vaggie and their issue being SO MUCH BIGGER is so incredibly irritating to me. And here's the thing; both of them are valid. Vaggie had every right to keep a secret like that out of fear of being rejected by Charlie, and Charlie has every right to be upset by the fact that this person she's ostensibly shared her life, her heart, and her body with could keep something like this from her. Charlie's entire personality means she gives every part of herself to her partner, and for someone like Vaggie it's just not a healthy dynamic for either of them.

And Rosie, my sweet sadistic darling; you know nothing about Vaggie. Don't speak on her behalf. Yes, it can be hard to admit to something that would hurt someone you care about. But being the reason for countless mortal souls being destroyed? When your partner cares so deeply for her people? That's not something I really feel a romantic relationship should be able to survive. At least it shouldn't be resolved by the appearance of Vaggie's wings and a fucking keychain.

One piece of life advice I have heard that seems applicable here is always examine your thoughts. The first thought you have is what you're programmed to think, the second thought is what you actually feel? When Rosie asked Charlie if doubted whether Vaggie loved her she went "No, yes? No!" And that last one sounded more like she was trying to convince herself of it than she was really thinking through her feelings. Charlie sees the good in everyone, so Rosie's advice isn't super useful because of Charlie's own optimistic personality. Meanwhile Carmilla's advice to vaggie is just, not applicable at all. Everything she has done up to that point has been out of what she considers "love" for Charlie. Also... are we not going to talk about that line "fuel yourself with the fear of losing that someone who's your reason to live"?

Charlie would survive just fine without Vaggie. I cannot say the same about the reverse. There is this sort energy between them that just brings out the parts of them that on a straight couple would be red flags all around but get a pass because gay.

Charlie constantly ignores Vaggie's practical advice? Girl dump him he doesn't value you!

Vaggie as a male consistently tries to tell Charlie not to be herself. To change things about her to make her more palatable to a population that only respects brute shows of power and doesn't give a flying fuck about her? Girl dump him he shouldn't be trying to change you!

And I'll be real, a huge draw for a lot of Charlastor shippers is the "I can fix him/I can make her worse" angle. But here's the thing, both Alastor and Charlie enter that dynamic knowing exactly what the other's about. There's no pretensions or illusions. Charlie knows he's a dangerous overlord and a Dealmaker. Alastor knows she's got plenty of exploitable issues that he can take advantage of but the core of her convictions is entirely solid. Charlie making him better isn't the sort of redemption of him being charitable. It's the "oh fuck I have empathy now and I don't like it" kind.

I just don't see enough compromise in the personalities of Charlie or Vaggie that explain to me why they would stay together after the revelation? I don't see why Charlie would want to stay with someone who willingly slaughtered thousands of souls and never had a problem with it before. Nor has she demonstrated a change of heart regarding sinners and their ability to change. She cares about people achieving redemption because of how it will affect Charlie, not because she gives a shit about what happens to these sinners.

I am fairly certain I drifted from your ask entirely but I hope you enjoyed this ramble Nonny.

[worshipme]

“too old?!” he echoes, but he sounds like he can’t believe those words really left yaz’s mouth. “you’re certainly not too old. unless… you know, this is you basically saying i can call you my cougar.” he jokes with a wiggle of his brows. “but in all seriousness, i feel like i won’t have to do much. you’re like… photogenic i swear. every time i look at you, you already look like you’re posing for the camera. you’re just naturally gorgeous. and this isn’t even my feelings speaking.”

and of course, like the rest of the stuff he’s already had noted in his head - he adds her favorite colors and flower. the mention of the stargazers not being in season all year-round did make him panic a bit, though. he’ll need to do his research, of course, but he hopes they’re currently in season. if not…. then he’ll make sure to get her favorite flowers to her no matter what.

“well, this might come as a surprise but my favorite color is orange.” he replies with a laugh. “as for flowers, then definitely sunflowers. they’re so beautiful. i’d love to go to one of those sunflower fields and take photos in them. i know sunflowers are like… massive too.” tyler wants to cozy up more against yaz, but he can’t because his furbaby has fallen asleep now too. so he settles for leaning his head against hers.

after a few seconds of silence, he asks, “does it bother you if i’m like… touchy? i’ve been told that i’m a bit needy.”

who: tyler && yaz ! [ @itsyazmin ]

where: nyc

there were times when tyler’s felt like the entire world was against him and today certainly felt like one of those days. he had woken up later than he normally would on a sunday because he had trouble sleeping the night before. that caused him to miss out on breakfast just so that he could make it to mass on time (there was nothing he hated more than arriving late to mass and having everyone take a peek at who had entered in late because the door was squeaky and loud). but the most terrifying fact of all: he was going to tell yaz today.

he stands in front of his mirror and adjusts the sleeves of his button-up before smoothing the fabric out. he knows the odds weren’t looking good for him. she was going on casual dates with others and had even called their friendship cordial. whatever he was going to say today would ruin that, but he’d rather see his feelings through than letting them fade into oblivion with the ‘what if’ lurking in the air. tyler runs his hands through his hair before going between taking his glasses off, putting them back on, taking them off again… before he finally settles on keeping them on. there wasn’t time for him to fuss about getting his contacts in, and frankly, he thinks the glasses are the selling point of his “sunday’s best” fit.

“okay socksock, remember what i said for later today.” he tells his cat who has been sitting at his feet patiently. “best behavior… i really like this girl. i don’t wanna ruin it if god blesses me today and answers my prayer.” he fixes his collar one last time, pats down the pockets of his slacks to make sure he’s got everything else he needs, and then lets out a sigh. tyler crouches down and scratches right under socksock’s chin. “wish me luck.” he whispers to her, leaving her with a peck on top of her head before he’s standing back up straight. tyler heads for the front door and makes sure to grab his leather jacket hanging up on the coat rack.. in case yaz gets cold.

then, tyler’s standing outside of yaz’s door and feels a chill even though he’s currently wearing the jacket. what if today was the last time they’d hang out like this because his feelings would ruin it? he gulps. but what if today was the start of something new? that thought is enough for him to ring the doorbell and wait patiently for her. whichever it was, that wouldn’t stop tyler from having fun today. they were going to get food, then have their furbabies meet… then he’d tell her. yeah… that’s the plan.

[ionomycin]

At the moongate, I set you free

[soni-dragon]

ive seen a couple pokemon character color wheels around so i tried one with some of my favorites!

[haverkampink]

Everyone say thank you to Christos for all the new pics

[thrudthorsdottir]

The beloved Ranger... I... I can't believe it! I grew up hearing all about your brave deeds. And Boo's, of course.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[hongjoshuaz]

#1 performer in the world

[bonefall]

My birthday was a couple days ago, and I got to see my bio dad for the first time in a while. He surprised me with the fact that I have a little half-sister, whom I've never met and who was adopted about two years back. So, I wondered if any situations in BB mimic this or have a theme of "secret siblings" or "secret family"? Sorry if this is a weird ask; this blog is honestly just such a cool little place and I love the way you approach the subject matter and take the flawed misogynistic foundation of the WC books and make them so much better (JUSTICE FOR BUMBLE!!!). I've also learned a lot about healthy and unhealthy relationships here and am really glad for your deep dives on Squilf and Bramble. Thanks, Bones!

Not weird at all! I really like exploring all the little nooks and crannies of complicated familial dynamics. I think one of the untapped strengths of WC (that the writers seem to be unaware of) is how their MASSIVE cast allows them to present all sorts of unique dynamics. So I like to pick up on it, since they don't.

For secret siblings...

I'm pretty heavily leaning towards Ambermoon being adopted by Wildfur, as a surrogacy. Something feels correct about it. Especially since Icecloud is getting retooled into a post-Battle of the True Eclipse birth, and a major supporting character in AVoS-era stories as a friend of Alderheart.

Thinking about it, I should zoom in and expand this. Maybe have Icecloud, somehow, acquire forbidden knowledge that would invalidate the Queen’s Rights and he (transman) struggles with if he's going to use it to expose his parents as an excuse to help Ambermoon.

(Especially since Ambermoon and Icecloud are basically nothing alike. Amber is independent, bold, and vain. Ice is jessie pinkman big-hearted, disorganized, and deceptively meek if you look past his "chill" demeanor)

But that's wip-- there's also Breezepelt and the Three, who are going to have an actual friendship. In particular I can't unsee Breeze and Lion having a deep one. I know I commit the Cardinal Sin of borderline himbo-ifying Lionblaze in BB, but I can't help it.

Hollyleaf ended up nabbing a bunch of his most violent roles to make her villainous descent smoother narratively, so BB!Lionblaze's story ends up being more focused on Ashfur's abuse, comic relief with cats in other Clans (something that the very serious Jay and Holly have a hard time providing), and the emotional fallout of the big reveal and Bramblestar's turn on them. Breezepelt slots neatly into that.

They were friends. Lionblaze's whole life came down around the reveal, everyone looking at him and his siblings differently, like they're suddenly something terrible. Why can't we find a silver lining, Breezepelt? Why can't we call ourselves brothers if the whole world is going to do it anyway? So much is changing, but THIS doesn't have to, we will take their weapon and turn it to armor, my ally, my friend, my brother.

(and when Breezepelt is lashing out at the three because of the Dark Forest's influence, Lionblaze is there, taking the blows and trying not to give in to the impulse to send him flying with a single paw)

There's also Harespring and Kestrelflight of WindClan and Owlclaw of ShadowClan. All of them are from a single litter between Whitewater and Mudclaw. She was going to raise the three of them alone as ShadowClan cats, but when the sire was smote, Whitewater felt they were cursed.

She was able to give the oldest two to their bio-uncle, Torear, but the weather was so bad that day and the runt was so sickly and small that it surely would have killed him. I don't think Owlclaw ever finds out why his mother always treated him with suspicion, but it did mess him up horribly.

Over in BB!DOTC, Thunder Storm is getting more half-siblings earlier. Clear Sky and Falling Feather had two daughters-- Pale Sky and Tiger Sky.

I want to explore the way that the various stages of Clear Sky's life acted on his kids. How any little curiosity Thunder Storm had about the life he might have had if he wasn't abandoned is crushed by seeing kittens who weren't. How Clear's favoritism of his oldest child set the trio against each other from the start. How this idea of "love" is toxic yet intoxicating.

It feels good to be the golden child. The power it gives you over his sycophants is satisfying. To know you, and you alone, have what someone else craves. Problem is, that's conditional, and it's cruel.

What Thunder Storm learns from his time with his biodad is that Clear Sky is not his father at all. He's taught him exactly what he DOESN'T want to be. There may be similarities-- in temperament, in physical prowess (though BB!Thunder is three-legged, he's still ripped), in taste and senses. But Thunder Storm's father is Shaded Flower.

(BB!Gray Wing died in the first book, rescuing Shaded Flower from being trampled by a horse. Xey're a patron of wisdom, Shaded Moss is taking the role of fatherhood to Thunder)

His sister is Rainswept Flower. His mom is Bright Storm. If there was a bond he could have had with Tiger Sky and Pale Sky, it dies simply and cruelly on the knife they used to cut each other out.

Pale might have wanted to mend it, she was the gentler one. But she dies in the First Battle along with her mother. Tiger Sky is too stubborn to accept any help, should Thunderstar offer it, and Thunderstar isn't in the business of begging for others to like him.

Naturally I'm lowkey obsessed with them lmao. I need to make a BB!DOTC overviewww