#how am i supposed to come up with differences when we are Literally the same person
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Anyone else feeling the relentless march of time on this Saturday night
#sat on the bus going home from my second to last shift at this job#saw lots of people at work that used to know me for my old job that i absolutely loved and did for 6 years#and i was describing why i know all these people to my coworkers and i was like oh my god thats not me anymore#thats who i used to be what the fuck#and this is the same bus journey that ive been doing for three years#on the same bus ive taken since i started taking the bus#its the same journey but im so different#and im moving into a different phase of life again#how many times have i sat on this bus#how many times have i sat in this seat#how many times have i driven this route how many me's#I've literally moved to the big city and moved back and i am irrevocably changed and im looking at the same shops out of fo the window#everything is the same but so different#since i started taking this bus i have changed so much that i would not recognise myself in the mirror#my boss said 'dont be a stranger' sir i am a stranger to myself#how long can i not be a stranger#how long can you try and keep up with the dregs of your old life until it no longer fits#how long can you keep coming back until it becomes somewhere unrecognisable. or you become unrecognisable#how do you mourn losing something of yourself when it happens so slowly and you dont realise it until its been dead and buried for years#do you ever find yourself falling into old thought patterns and finding that you have no conviction#the you who started thinking that is gone. you dont feel this way. but you did#even just about a band you like. or a snack you always used to buy before school#one of my essays this term could have been about humes view that we dont have a concrete self#and i just thought how am i supposed to answer that#how am i supposed to say no hes right there is no continuous self. i know this because i am filled with ghosts#because i look in the mirror and part of me tries to look through the eyes of teenage me#just to wonder what they would think#and i cant do it. because we are so far apart that they are not me#i am clinging on to friends and places as though i am someone that i am not because rhe ghost of a child inside me demands it#even if the words are hollow and the feelings are long gone
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— BEST LIFE
pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)
summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?
warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey
wordcount: 1.7k
a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋
when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.
what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.
“you’re sitting here,”
“uh-huh.”
“telling me,”
“yup.”
“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”
you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.
“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”
your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.
“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”
“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”
“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”
“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”
“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”
“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”
your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.
derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.
“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.
what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.
penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”
and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.
you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.
“and how much would he loose?”
“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”
“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”
reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.
“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?
spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.
“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”
spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”
spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.
as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?
“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.
“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”
lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.
his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.
right now, you were living your best life.
#criminal minds x bau!reader#criminal minds x reader#suits x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#harvey specter x fem!reader#harvey specter#harvey specter x reader#harvey specter x you
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HII I LOVE YOUR WORK SM!! I literally can't stop reading them 😭 I love you so much for making all of them !!
May I ask if we could get more of shy Remus?? As soon as I read the first one I immediately fell in love !
Thank you so much!! 🫶🏽
Hi lovely, thank you! Sorry this took me so long, I've wanted to write it ever since it came into my inbox but it took me forever to come up with an idea </3
cw: very vague implication of smut
shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
Remus looks surprised when he opens the door, and immediately after that embarrassed. For what, you never know.
“Hi,” he says, lips curving into a smile as if of their own volition. “Um, I haven’t missed anything, have I?”
You laugh. “No, you’re fine. I was just nearby and thought I might return your jumper.”
It’s a half-truth. You’re ambushing him and you know it, but Remus’ reticent disposition means you know next to nothing about his life and after weeks of dating you’re really itching for a peek behind the curtain. You’ve brought chocolate muffins to make up for it.
“Oh, that’s thoughtful of you.” Remus’ voice is soft as always, that adorable smile still playing on his lips until you both hear footsteps bounding down the stairs inside. He glances behind him, moving a bit more in front of the door. “While you’re here, maybe we could go have coffee or—”
“Who’s that?”
The voice seems like a sound of much dread for Remus, if his expression is anything to go off of. He ignores it, speaking only to you.
“Or there’s a park just down the way—”
“Remus.” It’s a different voice this time, yet the effect upon Remus’ countenance is the same. “Who do you have there?”
“Hi!” you say over his head, mutinous.
“A girl?” Remus’ entire body seems to sag in resignation. “Remus Lupin, stop hiding her from us immediately.”
“Sod off.” He says over his shoulder, as brash as you’ve ever heard him. It’s a bit thrilling.
“I will not. Reveal your secrets, you dirty dog.”
You actually do feel quite bad for Remus, a blush spreading all the way up to the tips of his ears, but he lets go of the doorframe, letting himself be wrestled out of the way.
“Hello.” A dark-haired boy weasels his way into Remus’ place, giving you a salacious up-down. You raise your eyebrows at him, delighted. So this is who Remus associates with when he’s not with you. “My, you’re a pretty thing. And you’re here to see Remus?”
“I am,” you confirm. “I’m here to bring back his jumper.”
“Which would lead one to believe, “a second boy appears behind the first, both of them keeping Remus from reclaiming his spot at the door, “that you’ve seen him before.”
You laugh. “I have. We’ve been dating a few weeks now.”
“Remus!” The second bellows, eyes blowing comically wide behind his glasses. “Weeks? Weeks, and you haven’t said a word. How could you?”
“I don’t suppose you have a bit of time on your hands,” the first boy says smoothly.
“I’ve…” You check the time. “I do, actually.”
He grins, wolflike. You’re not sure who the prey is. You worry it’s your date.
“Yes!” The one with the glasses is effervescent, brimming with eagerness. It’s contagious, you find; you’re smiling too. “You have to come in, please.”
You’re dying to, but you peer past them, locking eyes with Remus. He looks to be wishing for a swift and painless death, but he gives you a soft smile anyways. Nods.
“Sure,” you say, “I could join you for a bit.”
Some of the boisterous energy settles as they usher you inside, the need for urgency vanquished now that they’ve got you in their clutches. Begrudgingly, Remus introduces you, and the other two hassle him about taking off your coat and showing you where to put your shoes before he gets a chance to do either. Soon you’re settled comfortably in the armchair they tell you is Remus’ favorite.
“Can I make you a cuppa?” Remus asks, and James and Sirius both oooh as he rolls his eyes. You nod at him, eyeing the other two amusedly.
“He must really like you,” James says, “if he’s offering to make you tea.”
“Hence why you’re not getting any,” Remus says over his shoulder as he stalks for the kitchen.
“Prick,” Sirius calls after him. “We didn’t want any anyways.” But he crosses his arms, sulking back against the couch cushions. James, on the other hand, leans towards you.
“So,” he says severely, “what are your intentions with our Remus?”
A quiet sound of distress comes from the kitchen, but you all ignore it. “Your Remus?” you ask.
James nods self-assuredly. “We’ve known him since primary school. If you two get married, I’ll be the one giving him away.”
You raise your eyebrows. Remus’ head pops out of the kitchen, glaring daggers in a way you didn’t know he knew how. “You will not.”
“What?” James looks gutted.
“That’s not the point.” Sirius waves both of his friends off, though James looks like he would very much like to continue on the topic. “Tell us about you two, gorgeous. Where did you meet, how long have you been dating, has Remus told you where he hides his chocolates?”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Remus says, coming back with your tea. He passes it to you carefully, handle out, and both you and James hiss at him for holding the hot part.
“We haven’t even gotten her to answer anything yet,” Sirius complains.
“It’s not her fault you haven’t given her the chance.” Remus perches on the armrest of the chair. It's probably so he can avoid sitting next to his nosy friends, but pride swells in your chest anyway at being chosen. You take his hand, and he squeezes your fingers in response.
Sirius coos. “Only a few weeks of dating and he’s already holding her hand. I’m so proud.”
You grin up at Remus, knowing what you could say to really shock his friends but not wanting to embarrass him further. He’s already flustered enough that his scars stand out in stark contrast against his flushed skin, but his look softens as he meets your eyes. Something about him eases, a small smile curving his lips.
You decide it’s permission enough.
“You’ve been a bit bolder than that, haven’t you, handsome?”
James and Sirius erupt in hoots and hollers. Remus looks like he might well fall off the edge of the chair for how stiff he’s gotten.
“Sorry,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. It’s burning. “I’m not trying to torment you. We can go be alone in your room, if you like.”
“No-o.” James waggles a finger at you. “Now that we know what you’re up to, you won’t be getting him alone in our house. You’re set on corrupting him!”
#shy!remus#shy!remus x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#the marauders#marauders era#marauders fandom#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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ੈ✩ double number 4 (smau) ੈ✩
pairing : lando norris x fem reader
summary : Y/N gets to know she has two boyfriends with the name Lando
tw : identity theft, fake fans ¿ , suggestive ( very less )
fc: Ningning from Aespa
a/n : thank you so much to @rochyu for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻 also I am not pursuing law ( finance girly here ) so if by mistake I have used a wrong law term, lmk and I will correct it !
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
liked by user1, user2, user3 and others
iamtaken when your boyfriend sends you a good morning picture and message 🫶🏻
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user1 you are so lucky 😭
user2 where do you even find such guys 🌝
user3 is third floor enough ?
user4 he is so handsome 😮💨
user5 what’s his name ?
iamtaken lance ❤️
user6 that face looks to familiar …
user7 has he ever video called you ?
iamtaken that’s a very personal question you are asking 🫷🏻
user7 no like just please answer
iamtaken ofc he has !
user7 he can’t look like that
iamtaken wdym? Jealous much ?
user7 not jealous, you got played, that’s an f1 driver, Lando Norris
iamtaken huh?
user8 MY GOD HE IS THE SAME!
user9 YOU ARE DATING A RICH GUY ?
user10 u are dating a f1 driver ?
user11 chill y’all, lando is already dating someone else
iamtaken it's just a coincidence
user12 girl, what’s his id ?
iamtaken @ lanceperez
user13 that guy is certainly a f1 fan 💀
user14 Stroll and Checo 🗿
user15 deadly combination 🌝
user16 we need to blow the account up so that the authorities see this and address the situation!
user17 it’s not a mere prank, it’s literally identity theft !
iamtaken is it a wrong time to say that I sent him money ?
user18 girl 💀
user19 tag lando, mclaren and his gf !
user20 @ mclaren @ landonorris @ yninging
user21 @ mclaren @ landonorris @ yninging
liked by landonorris, alexandramiuex, versace and others
yninging shoutout to @ Versace for making this dress and shoutout to the real @ landonorris for taking it off me
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user1 mic drop
user2 belt drop 💀
user3 SHE SLAYEd!?
user4 do I look at the caption or her -
landonorris my hands are waiting ?
landonorris come over soon 🫶🏻
user5 lando upholding his feeakyness
user6 I thought only max matched his freak
user7 they only match in crashing into each other 💪🏻
user8 to have a pretty a pretty girlfriend 😮💨
user9 another pretty hand doll for money
user10 bruv, -10000 aura
user11 no wait actually, we know nothing about her except her name, nationality and her extremely extravagant lifestyle
user12 not we, only you, she is a Chinese heiress to €34 billion tycoon back in China
user13 and she has done her masters from London Business School
user12 talk about brains and beauty
liked by ynining, charlesleclerc, lewishamilton and others
landonorris the girls I have cheated with on @ yninging
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user1 was this supposed to be posted …
user2 Lando wrong acc ?
user3 YALL ITS HIS GIRLFRIEND WITH DIFFERENT HAIR COLORS
user4 LMAOO
user5 it’s the same girl -
user6 all of them are same !?
user7 the girl spawned a new face every time she dyed her hair
user8 her dyeing her hair is as frequent as max winning
user9 the caption scared me -
yninging good 👍
user10 she has turned into a gramp 💀
user11 how is she so pretty?
user12 Lando may not score in races, but he scored in the love department
user13 you did not just -
mclaren Kindly refrain from giving the PR a heart attack
landonorris 🧡
#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 scenario#formula one scenarios#f1 imagine#formula one imagines#formula one imagine#f1 scenarios#lando norris smau#lando norris scenarios#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris au#lando norris#lando x reader#formula 1 fic#f1 fluff#f1 texts#f1 fanfic#f1#formula 1#f1 fic#formula 1 x reader#aespa#ningning#aespa ningning
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you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (five)
requested here; (one); (two); (three); (four)
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(the duff inspired); college!au word count: 5k
It had been days since the talk, and you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. You sat on your couch, staring blankly at your textbook, trying to convince yourself you were focusing on your work, but let’s be real—you weren’t.
You were thinking about him.
The guy who, just two days ago, basically admitted he had feelings for you—and, to your own surprise, you admitted you felt something too. That whole conversation felt surreal.
It was terrifying in the moment—standing there, in the library after your lunch date with Nate, both of you avoiding eye contact like the plague until one of you finally broke the silence.
And now what? What was supposed to happen next?
You groaned, flopping back onto the couch. Your mind kept remembering how everything felt different now. Like, way different. You couldn’t look at Rafe the same way, couldn’t just be around him without wondering if he was thinking about it too—the kiss, the feelings, the whole thing.
And then, of course, there were Ava and Harper, who were way too invested in your love life now. Every time you and Rafe were in the same room, they’d shoot each other these obnoxious grins, making over-the-top kissy faces behind his back. Could they be more obvious?
As if on cue, Harper burst through the front door, Ava trailing right behind her.
“Okay, we need details,” Harper said, dropping her bag and plopping down next to you.
“Yeah,” Ava chimed in, sitting on the arm of the couch. “You’ve been weirdly quiet about it for days, and we know something’s up.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “There’s nothing to tell. We talked. That’s it.”
“That’s it?” Harper raised an eyebrow. “You two pretty much confessed you like each other. That’s not nothing!”
“Yeah, and now it’s weird,” you muttered, pushing your hair back, trying to find the words for everything that had been running through your mind since that day. “We’re supposed to be friends, you know?”
Ava exchanged a knowing look with Harper. “Sweets, nothing about having feelings for someone is uncomplicated. And besides, this is Rafe we’re talking about. You two hated each other—now you’re into each other. That’s a lot to process.”
“I know.” You chewed on your lip, feeling a little more exposed than you wanted to in that moment. “I just don’t know how to act around him. Before, we could just hang out, and it was fine, and now I’m wondering if he’s thinking about it every second like I am. And what happens if this thing between us doesn’t work?”
Harper grinned. “Or what if it does work? What if you actually, you know… like being with him?”
You shot her a look. “Stop.”
But Harper wasn’t stopping. “Come on, have you seen the way you look at him?
“I don’t look at him!”
“Oh yes you do,” Ava said, laughing when you threw a pillow at her, “You even drool sometimes.”
Harper snorted at her comment. “You totally do, like, the ‘I want to kiss him but I don’t know if I should’ thing with your eyes.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you guys. I knew you’d turn it into a whole thing.”
“Because it is a whole thing!” Ava said, grabbing the pillow you’d thrown and tossing it back at you. “You and Rafe! I mean, come on, this is literally the plot of every teen drama ever.”
You peeked up at her from between your fingers. “Except this isn’t TV.”
“What’s the worst that could happen? You like him, he likes you. Just date already.”
“He didn’t ask me, did he?” You grumble.
“Oh, so that’s what this is about.”
“Oh my god, it’s not about that,” you said, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt your face heat up. Of course they caught that.
You knew why Rafe hadn’t asked you out yet. It wasn’t like he was just being slow or clueless. He was literally waiting because you had told him to. You’re the one who said you needed time to figure yourself out, to see if this was really what you wanted. And he respected that. So, technically, this was all on you.
Still, it didn’t make it any less frustrating. Sure, you asked for time, but now that you had it? You were just overthinking everything and driving yourself nuts. And it wasn’t like you didn’t want him to ask, because, oh my god, you did.
You were just being pissy for no real reason, sitting here annoyed that he was actually doing what you’d asked him to do. Classic.
You groaned, sinking further into the couch cushions. “I’m such an idiot.”
Harper grinned, clearly enjoying your self-inflicted pain. “Yep. But at least you’re self-aware.”
Ava, ever the voice of reason, patted your knee. “Look, you said you needed time. He’s respecting that, which is honestly kind of amazing. Most guys would’ve freaked out or bailed, but Rafe’s giving you space. That’s a good thing.”
“I know,” you said, exasperated. “I just… I don’t even know what I’m waiting for anymore. What am I trying to figure out? I already like him. It’s just—”
“Just what?” Harper interrupted. “You’re scared?”
“I’m not scared,” you snapped, then immediately sighed. “Okay, fine, maybe I am. I just don’t want to screw things up.”
“Rafe’s not some random hookup,” Ava said softly. “If anything, you guys have been building this thing without even realizing it. He’s not going anywhere, so stop psyching yourself out.”
“Exactly. Just text him and say, ‘Hey, I changed my mind. Let’s go out,’” Harper suggested with a mischievous smirk. “I bet he’ll be here in five minutes, tops. I’ve seen the way he looks at you too."
That was the part that got you.
Rafe Cameron, the guy who used to roll his eyes at you back home, now couldn’t seem to stop looking at you like you were the only person in the room. And you… you liked it. A lot.
Ava nudged you, her grin widening as she pulled out her phone. “Speaking of, is he coming over?”
“Not today,” you mumbled, grabbing your phone to check it anyway.
No new messages.
“Ugh, you two are impossible,” She groaned, crossing her arms. “When are you going to tell him you actually like him? Like the actual words?
“Yeah, and when are you going to stop playing it so cool?” Harper added.
You scoffed. “You think I’m playing it cool? I literally have no idea what I’m doing.”
Just then, your phone buzzed in your lap. You glanced down and saw Rafe’s name on the screen.
Rafe: want to grab dinner tonight?
Your heart did that stupid fluttery thing again. Ava leaned over your shoulder, reading the text, while Harper grinned like she was plotting your wedding already.
“Dinner, huh?” Harper teased. “Sounds like a date to me.”
“It’s not a date,” you said quickly, though the idea didn’t sound so bad. “It’s probably just… I don’t know. He wants to talk about the whole feelings thing.”
Ava let out a high-pitched squeal, and Harper started making kissy faces. “Ooooh, talk,” she teased, drawing out the word with an exaggerated wink, “Trust me, it’s a date.”
“Oh my God!” You grabbed another pillow and threw it at them, “You’re so fucking annoying.” You sighed, standing up and grabbing your phone. “If this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming you two.”
Harper beamed. “You’ll thank us later.”
You weren’t sure how you got from your doorm to the restaurant, but there you were, standing in front of Rafe as the two of you waited for a table. This wasn’t the easygoing banter you’d grown used to during study sessions or late-night hangouts. This was… different.
Rafe stood next to you, looking as calm and collected as ever. If he was nervous, he didn’t show it. Meanwhile, your stomach was doing somersaults.
He looked good—like, stupidly, unfairly, make-your-heart-pound-in-your-throat good. The kind of good that made you stop breathing. He was wearing a charcoal grey Henley shirt, the kind you never imagined him in, but now you couldn’t stop imagining it. It clung to his chest and arms in a way that had your mouth watering, showing off his muscular frame more than any of his usual polos ever did.
You swallowed hard, trying to look anywhere but directly at him. But it was impossible to ignore how the sleeves hugged his biceps, or how the soft fabric stretched just slightly across his broad shoulders. Even his hair, usually tousled in a “couldn’t care less” kind of way, looked effortlessly perfect tonight, like he was trying to kill you.
And then he caught you looking.
A slow, knowing grin spread across his face as his eyes met yours, like he could read every thought running through your head. "You good?"
You snapped out of it, blinking quickly, "Yeah, fine," you mumbled, though you were definitely not fine. Not with him standing there looking like he just stepped out of a magazine ad.
"Uh-huh," he said, clearly unconvinced, the smirk on his lips only growing wider. "You sure? You’ve been staring for a while."
You flushed instantly, the heat rising to your cheeks. "I wasn’t staring!"
"Right," Rafe drawled, stepping closer, "If you say so."
The worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing to you. That stupid Henley. He had to know. The server reappeared out of nowhere, "Table for two? Right this way!" she chirped with perfect timing.
You let out a sigh of relief, quickly stepping past Rafe, feeling your heart slow just a little. The place was packed, like it always was—one of those busy pizzerias where you could barely hear yourself think because of all the noise. The smell of freshly baked dough and melted cheese were in the air.
Rafe chuckled under his breath as you followed the server, clearly amused, “Why are you walking so fast?” he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear. You shot him a quick look over your shoulder.
The server led you to a cozy corner booth near the back of the restaurant. It wasn’t fancy—far from it, actually. The table was slightly sticky, the chairs mismatched, and there was a stack of menus with creases on the edges already waiting for you. You loved it, it reminded you of home somehow.
He slid into the booth across from you, sitting with that same infuriatingly relaxed posture, his eyes never leaving you. "Guess we lucked out with a table," he said casually, picking up a menu.
You nodded, grateful for the noise of the restaurant “Yeah, it’s packed tonight.”
As you read the menu, trying to focus on pizza toppings instead of how good he looked across from you, you couldn’t help but feel the nerves start to fade just a little. It wasn’t fancy, and maybe that was the point. It was just dinner. Just the two of you. You could handle that... right?
"Do you always take this long to pick pizza toppings?" he teased, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. His pretty eyes flickered between you and the menu like this was some kind of game, one you were definitely losing.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the grin that pulled at the corner of your lips. "Sorry, I’m just trying to make sure I don’t ruin this life-altering decision. I know how you feel about your pizza."
That earned you a chuckle. God, why was it so attractive? You forced yourself to stare at the menu again, but your brain was mush. Every time you tried to focus on mozzarella, all you could think about was his stupid smirk and how his arms looked ridiculously good in that shirt. It was casual, but on Rafe? Casual somehow felt dangerous. And yeah, he was dangerous—at least to your heart rate.
"Pepperoni and jalapeño," he said suddenly, his voice dropping like he was letting you in on a secret. "Trust me, it’s the best combo."
"Spicy," you quipped, arching an eyebrow. "Trying to impress me, Cameron?"
Rafe’s smirk deepened, and his eyes did that thing—that thing where they darkened just a little, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you. "If I wanted to impress you, I wouldn’t be ordering pizza."
“Right, kook king and all.”
Rafe just raised an eyebrow, “I’m not that guy anymore, you know. Or have you not noticed?”
Oh, you’d noticed.
How could you not? Rafe had always been the guy you were supposed to avoid. The entitled, rich kid who would’ve scowled at you in disgust not too long ago. But now, here you were, sitting across from him in some hole-in-the-wall pizza place, trying not to melt into a puddle under his attention.
“You’re still a kook,” you pointed out, mostly because teasing him felt safer than admitting you actually liked this version of him.
He shrugged casually, eyes locked on yours. “Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re here, does it?”
You swallowed, trying to stay unaffected by how close he was, the way his voice lowered like the conversation was suddenly just for the two of you. “No, it doesn’t.”
He leaned back, his grin softening. “You’re thinking too much.”
Your eyes widened slightly. “How do you know that?”
“Because you always do.” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re always overthinking everything.”
He wasn’t wrong. You’d been spiraling. It was like you couldn’t just let yourself feel whatever this was without worrying about what would happen next. Whether this thing with Rafe would blow up in your face like a bad movie plot or—worse—turn into something you couldn’t handle.
Jus as his warm smile started to settle you, you heard a voice that made your stomach drop.
“Uh, hey? What’s going on here?”
You froze.
No way. You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.
Nate.
Rafe’s eyes moved from you to the figure standing just behind you.
Great.
You slowly turned in your seat, Nate was standing there, looking between the two of you. This was bad. So bad.
“Nate,” you started, “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Nate said, his brows knitting together as he glanced between you and Rafe. “You said you were busy with school stuff tonight.”
You winced. You had told him that. Because technically, you didn’t lie— you had planned on studying, but then Rafe texted you, and well… one thing led to another. And now here you were, on what very much felt like a date, with Nate staring at you like you’d just ripped his heart out. A little bit dramatic.
Rafe, still lounging casually in the booth, watched the whole thing with a raised eyebrow, clearly sizing Nate up, like he always did. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the way he didn’t like this one bit—he was waiting for you to explain, waiting to see how you’d handle this.
“I—um…” You fumbled for words, your brain short-circuiting under the weight of the awkwardness. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you. This is… Rafe and I were just—”
“Just having dinner,” He cut in smoothly, “Nothing you need to worry about.”
Nate’s eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tensing as he looked at Rafe. “Right. And how long has this been going on?”
You could hear the accusation in his voice, and it made your stomach twist. Nate wasn’t your boyfriend, but you’d been hanging out—nothing serious, but enough that this looked pretty bad from his perspective.
“Nate, it’s not like that,” you tried to explain. What could you even say right now?
Rafe glanced at you, one eyebrow quirking up like he was daring you to say more. “You don’t owe him an explanation.”
Except you kinda did because you felt like you’d been leading Nate on. You owed him something, even if it was just a proper way to end whatever this was between the two of you.
Nate crossed his arms. “Seems like there’s something to explain, though. I mean, you’ve been acting weird ever since we went to lunch the other day, and now I see you out with him?” He gestured toward Rafe, “So what is this? Are you guys a thing now?”
“Nate…” You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you, but I don’t think this is going to go where you’re hoping it will.”
Nate blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Oh.” His voice dropped, and he looked away for a moment. You felt like a bitch. You’d been the one to start persuing him and now you were doing this.
“Yeah, I guess that clears it up,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Then his eyes moved back to Rafe, and his expression hardened again. “Just watch out for him, alright?” His voice was stiff, but he wasn’t looking at you when he said it.
He was staring straight at Rafe, who didn’t flinch, just glared right back, his posture still cool, but his jaw tightened. “You don’t need to worry about her,” He said evenly, “I’ve got it covered.”
Nate clenched his fists but then shook his head with a sharp exhale. “Whatever. Take care, okay?” He shot you one last look, and you could see the disappointment there before he turned and walked away.
For a long moment, you just sat there, staring after him, feeling the guilt built in your chest. That had been brutal. Maybe you hadn’t handled things with Nate perfectly, but you hadn’t meant to hurt him like that.
Rafe, on the other hand, didn’t seem phased by Nate’s little number. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, like he was checking in.
You nodded slowly, though you didn’t entirely feel okay. “Yeah… just didn’t expect that.”
“Seems like he’s got it bad for you.”
You shot him a look. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Maybe a little. But you didn’t answer his question.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “What question?”
Rafe tilted his head. “Are we a thing?” Oh god. The way he was looking at you right now—it wasn’t just playful anymore. It was real, and serious. “Well?”
You took a deep breath, “I guess we are.”
It was like he needed to hear you say it, to own it. "Guess?" he repeated.
"Yeah, I guess we are," you said, more firmly this time. But the second the words left your mouth, you realized you didn’t really “guess.”
You knew. You’d known for a while now, ever since those late-night conversations, the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the room. You weren’t just some fling to him. And that terrified you.
He leaned forward across the table, just close enough that you could catch a hint of his perfume. His hand reached across the table, fingers brushing lightly against yours. It was such a simple touch, but it felt like everything. Like the start of something. You wanted to say something—anything—but your brain had gone completely blank, and all you could do was stare back at him, trying to understand what the hell was happening.
Then, without warning, he shifted in his seat, his long arms reaching across the small table, getting closer, his eyes never leaving yours. Before you could sutter out something stupid, his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you toward him until your lips met.
It wasn’t tentative or slow. It was like he had made up his mind a long time ago, like this was something he’d been waiting to do. It wasn’t deep or drawn out, but it didn’t need to be. You could feel the strength of his hand at your neck, his fingers just barely threading through your hair, like he had some invisible line of control over you, but it wasn’t demanding or forceful. You just knew was holding back, knowing this wasn’t the place for more.
When he pulled back—just an inch—you could still feel his breath against your lips. His eyes stayed on yours, his thumb lightly brushed the nape of your neck and you felt like you were still leaning forward, chasing more even though you knew you couldn’t have it.
It was quick—barely a few seconds—but it left you completely breathless. “Told you, you overthink too much,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear, like it was your little secret.
The next day felt oddly normal, like nothing monumental had happened the night before—except it had. You were walking across campus with him now, books in hand, making easy conversation about random things. No one knew about you two yet—not officially, at least.
As you approached the doors to your building, Rafe slowed down. You weren’t even thinking about it, just caught up in the rhythm of your walk and the conversation, until suddenly he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
It wasn’t premeditated or dramatic—just an automatic gesture, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You eyes widened as you remembered exactly where you were: standing right outside your class building, in the middle of campus, where anyone could see. The kiss had felt so casual, so… normal, like he did it all the time. Like you were his and he didn’t care who saw.
He pulled away just as quickly as he’d kissed you, his lips curving into a smirk as he gave you a nod. “See you later sweets,” he said as if he hadn’t just left you completely flustered. Then he turned and walked off, completely oblivious that you were standing there, still processing what had just happened.
You blinked, trying to collect yourself, when you heard it: high-pitched squeals from just a few feet away.
“Oh my God, oh my GOD!” Harper’s voice was practically a screech.
You looked up to find both her and Ava standing by the door to your classroom, wide-eyed and grinning like they’d just witnessed the biggest scandal of the year.
“No way,” Ava gasped, her hands clapping over her mouth, her eyes darting from you to where Rafe had just walked away. “Did that just happen? Did he just kiss you, right in front of everyone?!”
Harper was already losing it, jumping up and down in excitement, her curls bouncing around her face. “I can’t believe this—finally! FINALLY!”
Your face flushed instantly as you looked between your two best friends. “Guys, it’s not a big deal—” you started, but they were having none of it.
“Not a big deal?!?” Ava cut in, eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you serious?!”
“Literally, he didn’t even hesitate!” Harper added, her hands dramatically flying to her head. “That was so hot! I’m obsessed with this. I need details. What the hell happened last night?”
You groaned, trying to hide the ridiculous grin creeping onto your face. “It’s not—okay, fine, it kind of is a big deal, but can you guys not freak out about it? We haven’t even talked about what this is yet. It's a thing."
Ava’s jaw dropped. “You don’t need to talk! He just kissed you!” She looked like she was about to burst from excitement. “Oh my God, this is so cute, I’m literally dying.”
Harper, still vibrating with energy, grabbed your arm and started pulling you toward the door. “We are so talking about this more later. This is the best day ever.”
After class, you three claimed a table near the windows at the cafeteria. You were mid-laugh, picking at your food, when you finally spilled all the details about last night.
“So, get this,” you sai, “Nate just showed up. Like, out of nowhere. I’m sitting there with Rafe, and then suddenly, boom—He’s standing right in front of us, asking what the hell is going on.”
Harper’s eyes widened, a piece of lettuce dangling from her fork. “No way. No way! And you told him—?”
“I basically had to reject him right then and there,” you admitted, biting your lip. “I felt so bad. He wasn’t my boyfriend or anything, but still, it was awful.”
Ava gasped dramatically, smacking the table with her hand. “Holy shit, I wish I could’ve seen his face.”
You winced, nodding. “Yeah, he was… not happy. But it’s not like I could’ve kept leading him on. I didn’t mean for it to happen in front of Rafe, though.”
“Oh my God, I bet he was loving it,” Harper said, leaning forward with a wicked grin. “He just sat there, didn’t he?”
“Pretty much,” you laughed, shaking your head. “He didn’t say a word until Nate started getting all protective.”
Harper snorted, “It’s so classic. But seriously, how did Nate even find you guys? Was he stalking you or something?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I think it was just a really bad coincidence. I feel like such an asshole, but it’s not like I could just—”
“Ladies.”
Your head snapped up at the sound of that voice, and you almost dropped your fork. Rafe was standing right there, looming over your table like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Speak of the devil,” Ava muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing playfully as she glanced between you and him.
Harper, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned back in her chair “Hey, Cameron. We were just talking about you. Pull up a seat.”
He smirked, clearly picking up on the tone of the conversation, but didn’t hesitate to slide into the empty chair next to you.
“All good things, I hope,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you.
You shot him a look, “When have I ever spoken highly of you?”
“Awww, missed you too.” he said, smirking as he grabbed a fry off your plate like he’d been part of the conversation the whole time.
“Stop eating my fries,” You scowled, he just shrugged, popping the fry in his mouth like it was no big deal. “I’m gonna smack you,” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “Can you at least get your own fries?”
He smirked, “Why would I do that when I can steal yours?”
Harper let out a dramatic sigh, clasping her hands together. “I love this for you guys. Truly. I can’t wait for the wedding.”
You groaned, throwing a napkin at her, "You’re ridiculous."
Rafe just chuckled, grabbing one last fry. “I think I’m gonna like hanging out with your friends.”
Ava gave you a sly look before turning to him. “Okay, since you’re here now, and we’ve got you trapped—let’s get to the important stuff. What exactly are your intentions with our girl?”
You closed your eyes wanting to sink into the floor.
“Are we talking dates? Or are you planning to ask her out for real?”
Harper leaned forward, clearly invested. “Yeah, Rafe. What’s the hold-up? When’s the official girlfriend status happening?”
You could feel your face heating up, and you shot them both an exasperated look. “Guys, seriously? We’re doing this now?”
Rafe, however, looked completely unbothered by the question as he glanced at you. “I was going to ask her when the time felt right,” he said, “But if you’re so eager, maybe I should just ask her now.”
The entire table fell silent. Ava and Harper exchanging shocked glances, their eyes lighting up with excitement. You, on the other hand, were doing your best not to choke on the air around you.
“Wait, what?” you stammered, wide-eyed, not entirely sure if he was serious or just messing with you.
“You heard me.”
Ava let out a squeal, covering her mouth. “Oh my God, this is happening!”
“Are you seriously asking me that right now? In front of them?”
Harper was practically vibrating in her seat. “Yes, Rafe! Ask her! We need a moment to remember forever!”
“No,” You glared at your friends, “If you ask me to be your girlfriend while you’re munching on those greasy fries, I’ll never speak to you again.”
Rafe just laughed, wiping his hands on a napkin “Yes ma’am.”
What even was this? He had this uncanny ability to make you feel like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you. And the fact that he could make your friends—the two people who knew you best and knew the history between you two—just as obsessed with him as you secretly were? That was dangerous.
Harper, never one to let a moment die, leaned over the table, her voice all conspiratorial. “You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?”
You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like that.”
Ava grinned. “Oh, it so is. Just embrace it, babe.”
Rafe tilted his head, giving you that look .“You gonna keep denying it?”
You felt yourself blush, but you weren’t about to give them all the satisfaction of a full confession. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on your teasing. “Guess I’ll have to make that moment happen soon then.”
Ava let out a dreamy sigh. "I love love."
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄
ex!regulus black x fem!reader
nav | m.list | r.b m.list
smut
dom!reg sub!reader, p in v, cunnilingus, handjob, cheating, ex!barty x reader mention, hair pulling. c/n = character name
───────✧ 𓆩♡𓆪 ✧───────
james unlocked the door, a big smile on his face as he had booked a pretty nice airbnb for the long weekend. you and dorcas carried in snacks and drinks to the kitchen as he held the door.
you could hear peter groan as sirius jumped on his back after stretching.
“hey i just wanted to see if you were okay, ya know with regulus being here and all—“
you cut dorcas off with a little laugh, “yeah d its fine, i mean we both have moved on clearly”
dorcas smiled and nodded before rubbing your arm then walking back outside.
moved on was not what you would describe it, regulus was here with a girl he had a met not to long ago, a fling, you could tell by how she acted. it was exactly how you used to act.
maybe he did this to make you jealous and to ruin your time, that was the only justification that went through your head.
you packed the fridge with the food and put things on the counters.
“y/n! where do you want me to put your stuff?” remus yelled, you already knew the sleeping arrangements, you and peter on an air mattress while remus, sirius, dorcas and marlene in a room. james and lily have their own and so does regulus and c/n.
“just put it by the couch!” you yelled as you watched sirius walk in, you grabbed a water and tossed it to him. sirius smiled then looked behind him then looked back at you, giving you an eyebrow raise. a warning sign.
“yeah its up the stairs, second room on the right” regulus mumbled. you watched as she walked up the stairs and regulus stopped to talk to sirius. you could tell he was out of breath from carrying things, you grabbed another water from the fridge and put it on the table before walking to the living room.
to say the tension was strong whenever you and regulus were in the same room was an understatement.
it was getting dark out, everyone was outside while james cleaned the grill for tomorrow and sirius and marlene tried to get a speaker to start working.
you sat next to lily, you both chatting about random topics while scrolling and showing each other different cats at a shelter. you would occasionally look to the other seats and make eye contact with regulus, it only made you wanna roll your eyes when he would at you then at her then back at you. he would get closer to her, having a stare off with you until you looked away.
music started to lighten the tension, marlene had pulled you up to dance with her while she was shit faced drunk. sirius got remus to join in. regulus watched you, thinking that maybe you just didnt care.
the fun ended with marlene throwing up on the other side of the fence and dorcas having to go put her in a bath. mary had called lily to check up on you guys, she wasn’t able to come since she had a wedding to attend.
hours passed and remus was the last to leave living room to you and peter, you sat down on the edge of the air mattress, peter already fast asleep, you had showered before coming to bed and now put on lotion.
the only thoughts you had were of regulus as you started to lay down. you couldn’t sleep a few hours passed until you heard footsteps.
regulus sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees. he cant remember what made him come down here, maybe to get a drink but now its led him here and he cant say he’s mad about it.
“are you doing this to fuck with me? to make me jealous?” you asked in a yelled whisper, sitting on the edge of the air mattress. you made sure not to move too much since peter was next to you with earplugs in.
“what? am i doing this to fuck with you? what are you talking about?” he whispered, his brows furrowed. “you started talking to barty again, what was i supposed to do while you were out flirting with your ex boyfriend?” he added.
“literally what the fuck are you talking about regulus” you scoffed, the last time you saw barty was when you gave him some of his clothes that was still in a box in your closet, it was socks and a few plain white tees but he had messaged you about it since it had his favorite belt and hadnt been able to find it for almost 6 months.
“sirius told me he saw you, how you got in his car and was all up on him, told me all about how you were all giggly and touching his arm, i thought we had something” he argued, making hand gestures.
“we do have something, we always have had something, all i did was give him a box of clothes if i was thinking about getting back together with i would've told you” you whispered, you touched his arm.
“i would never do that to you, regulus i told you everything” you added as a tear pricked your waterline, his head tilted slightly as he closed his eyes and sighed.
you missed him, god you missed him.
“i’m sorry, i should've asked you” he sighed, his hands going to yours. just touching him was like being teased, you missed his hands on you.
you swallowed, you didn’t know if it was the right time and you think he had the same idea.
regulus looked at you, you two were so close, his hair was just the slightest bit damp and he still smelled so strongly of his body wash and shampoo. He wore a plain black tee and sweatpants that was fresh out the dryer.
he leaned in closer, you didn’t want to move more than you already have in case of waking peter.
you tilted your head back as he leaned in more, his lips touching yours. god it felt so good.
your tongue intertwined with his as you two kissed, his hand came to your jaw. you tried to get closer to him. you heard peter groan and you pulled away.
peter rolled over and started to snore.
“cmere” regulus whispered and guided you up and into the kitchen.
your lower back pressed against the counter, as he locked your guys lips together roughly, his hands going up your shirt.
you tried to rub yourself against his groin. regulus groaned into your mouth as he unclipped your bra. he moved around your body until he was able to slip the bra to the ground then undid the knot on your pj pants.
regulus trembled in your grasp as you palmed him, he was getting harder and harder in your grasp. he bit your lip lightly before pulling away.
“turn the fuck around” he panted, his hands moving you roughly and pushing you to bend over the counter. regulus drops to his knees, his fingers slipping down your pj pants and panties.
you could feel his lips on your ass cheek, he bit softly which made you laugh and mumble an “ow,” regulus smile before spreading you open for him.
his tongue met your cunt, making you shiver, your clit throbbed as he sucked slightly. his hands massaged you gently, he did circles around your clit then moved his tongue up and down your vulva.
one of regulus’ hands moved to your cunt, his fingers teasing around your cunt before finally pushing in.
your hand that was gripping the counter went up to your mouth, his fingers were long and soon enough he could fit two in. your legs trembled and you were getting close. minutes passed and then you were on the brink.
regulus pulled away and slowed his fingers. you whined when his fingers left you. you soon felt his lips on the back of your neck. you could feel him press his cock against you, you reached back and slid your hand into his waistbands, he was fucking leaking.
he moaned against your skin as you stroked him, his hand gripped your hand and guided it while the other one held your hip. regulus let go of your hand and pushed his sweats down a bit.
“turn around i wanna see your face” he whispered and let go of you. you kicked off your bottoms before turning. regulus spit in his hand and stroked himself, you watched his chest as he breathed heavily.
you got onto the counter, thankfully it happened to be perfect height.
spreading your legs for him, waiting, you are beautiful.
regulus pressed his tip against your cunt, sliding in as his other hand did circles on your clit. his head tilted back slightly and he bit his lips. his stomach tightened and his eyes closed.
you watched his cock go into you. your hand gripped his forearm.
“youre amazing” he mumbled, looked at you and you leaned in, lips molding together in a fevered rush.
regulus started thrusting, noises caught in your throat, his other hand held the back of your head, guiding it how he wanted.
he started to quicken his pace, his fingers gripping your hair hard. you moaned in his mouth.
a noise from upstairs stopped him, pulling his head away from you and his hand moved to cover your mouth. he slowed his pace but didnt stop completely.
“regulus?” you heard.
he looked at you and then reached to turn the sink on then off.
“yeah?” he said. she stood at the top of the stairs. it was dark the only light being from a nightlight that was next to you.
“you okay?” she asked.
“yeah im just getting a drink and im on the phone with evan, hes having a rough night, go back to bed” he lied on the spot.
“oh alright” she yawned and walked back.
you kissed his neck, nipping at his skin. he started to pick up his pace again.
“im sorry” he whispered, his hands rubbed your sides.
“its okay” you said, you pulled on the hem of his shirt and sucked on his collarbone, leaving a dark mark.
his fingers went fast on your clit, getting you closer and closer.
“i love you” regulus said.
you kissed his cheek, “i love you too regulus” your fingers slipping into his hair.
your brows furrowed as the coil in your stomach snapped. cunt clenching down on him and pulsating. you bit your lips together.
“inside or on your stomach?” he asked hurriedly.
you ignored him.
his eyes closed tightly, “imma need an answer baby quick” he whined.
“stomach” you panted as you came down from your high.
regulus thrusted a few more times before pulling out. your hands went to his cock, jerking him off to the pace he was going before.
he cursed as he came, cock throbbing and now becoming super sensitive.
soon he had cleaned you and himself up and wiped down the counters then you two ended up cuddling on the couch. he whispered in your ear, telling you how he missed you and that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. it was nice, so nice.
you had moved once he fell asleep, getting back to your spot on the air mattress. regulus moved closer to the edge and reached his hand down to grab yours.
“goodnight” he mumbled.
#marauder era#marauders#regulus black angst#regulus black fancast#regulus x reader#regulus fanfiction#regulus black fanfiction#regulus black fic#regulus black fanfic#regulus black#regulus black x reader#regulus black smut#regulus black x reader smut#regulus black x you#smut#marauders smut
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Cowboys
Ellie x reader
Part 1
Part 3
Summary: a trip to the local saloon? With a man?!
Wc: 2.1 k (shorter ik sorry)
For the ao3 girlies
Cw: cowboy! Ellie x fem! reader, drinking, reader gets drunk, Jesse (just a little side character), mentions of domestic violence, reader has trauma!, reader has scars, lesbian touching and yearning, lots of talking
Minors DNI (fr)
Seriously there’s some descriptions of abuse here y’all I tried to keep it vague, but it’s important I promise! I am not the kind of author who gives the reader trauma for literally no reason. That being said if this isn’t your cup of tea I’ll see you in another chapter or different fic!
LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK
You wake up with the sun. The warm light forced its way through your eyelids, refusing to be ignored. You got up and attempted to get dressed as quietly as possible. You use the reflection of a steel pan to pin your hair back.
You liked the mornings, normally you were very alone, but even with company, it was a peaceful time. Golden light filters through your windows, everything and everyone is still beginning to wake up. It’s quiet.
A face appears behind yours in the reflection of the pan.
“Mornin.” Her voice was a bit low and gravelly.
“Mornin, where are you off to today?” You finish flattening out the last little stubborn hairs and turn towards her. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, and bruises had begun to form on her face, but with the way she carried herself, you would never know what happened last night.
“Was thinking of going to the next town over, I have a few people to talk to.” You grab your boots from the floor and sit in the same wooden chair Ellie had last night. You try not to think about how close you were or how warm she felt against your fingertips as you lace up your shoes.
“You’re lucky you have that bandana.” You stand up and grab the hem of the fabric. “You’re a bit of a mess.” You pinch her chin between your thumb and forefinger and force her to turn to the side, and for some reason she lets you. You turn her the other way, inspecting the intensity of the bruises. “These’ll be gone in a week.” You brush your finger over a particularly deep purple bruise on her jaw, she flinches a bit even at your featherlight touch. “This one maybe two.”
“Whatever you say doc,” she replies with a laugh. You let go of her chin and head towards the door.
“I have to go, but you’ll be back before dark right?” Ellie just nods and you leave, hoping that she does actually come back.
** **
Today when you’re locking up the schoolhouse you hear a different voice, “Hi there, sunshine!”
You turn around and see Jesse. You usually didn’t see him at this time of day. He walks towards you like he has something to say.
“What’re you up to today?” He asks with a charming smile on his face.
“I was just going to head home and have dinner. How about you?” You really didn’t care to hear his plans for the day, but you had to be polite.
“I was hopin’ you might accompany me to a show at Buckhorn tonight?” His eyes are hopeful, he reminded you of a little boy, he hadn’t had the same life you did. You had really hoped you wouldn’t have to deal with him asking to court you, not completely sure you could manage to say no. You didn’t have a good reason for refusing, and who knows what he would say about you if you denied him.
“Um, alright, I suppose I could go. I can’t stay too late though, I don’t like ridin’ in the dark.” You manage a smile. Jesse looks like he is just barely keeping himself from jumping up and down in celebration.
He nods, “I will make sure you get home safe and sound darlin’. Suppose we should head on over then.” You untie your horse and take her by the lead, walking beside Jesse to the saloon.
You didn’t have much to talk about, the conversation was mostly small talk. You let him ramble on about his journeys to Santa Fe, the Apaches he’s encountered, hostile cowboys, thieves. No one ever actually threatened him, just passed by, but with the way he told the stories you would think he would be covered in scars and bruises.
You finally make it to the saloon, Jesse orders you both whiskey. You down it like a shot and Jesse seems surprised, but not appalled like you would have expected. “You want another?” he asks with raised eyebrows and a laugh.
“Yes please.” You smile up at him, a little more genuine. Maybe you could have fun, with enough liquor in your system you could get along with anyone. Drunk you was charming, magnetic, bubbly, men usually tolerated that a little better. Plus the drinks were free.
The band starts playing and you pull Jesse out on the wooden dancefloor. The music pulls at your limbs. As you dance with him you feel smooth as water, the more you drink the smoother you feel. Soon enough you’re leaning into his chest, swaying to the music. The night went by in a blur. You are at the bar getting another round of drinks when you see a familiar set of eyes appear at the entrance.
She makes a beeline towards you, shouldering people out of the way as she approaches. Her eyes look angry, but all she does is brush her hand down your arm like she was making sure you were real.
“I couldn’t find you.” She says, and you swear everything and everyone else melts away as she speaks.
She was looking for you.
“I was here.” You say with a drunk smile, relieved to see her. “With Jesse.” you point over to him. She doesn’t even bother to look. You lean in towards her to whisper, “He’s pretty boring, but he gave me free drinks.” you hold up a glass of whiskey as proof, slightly swaying with the movement.
“I’m gonna take you home.” She says gently.
“That would be very nice, I’m sure Jesse wouldn’t want to take me all the way out there. Just let me go tell him.” You haven’t stopped smiling since you saw her.
“Alright,” she nods, “I’ll be waitin’ for ya by the door.”
You stumble over to him, “Jesse, I gotta head home.”
“Ok let me go get my-”
“No need, my bodyguard over there is takin’ me home.” You point to the masked cowgirl by the door. Jesse looks at you, confused.
“I’ll explain it to you another time, I promise I’m safe with him.” You pat him on the shoulder for reassurance.
“Can I at least talk to him? So I can know you’re safe.” Well at least he seemed to actually care about you, not just the concept of you.
“I don’t see why not,” you grab his hand, it’s large and rough, his palm felt like sandpaper against yours, “follow me.” You lead him towards the cowgirl. She’s standing with her arms crossed, observing the drunkards surrounding her.
“Hi,” her head snaps towards the sound of your voice, her eyes soften.
“Hello darlin’,” she runs her hand alongside your arm again. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her touch. She looks behind you at the man you’ve brought over to her. “Who’s this?”
“This is Jesse,” you pull him so he’s standing alongside you causing him to stumble a bit. You giggle. “He wanted to make sure you were gettin’ me home safe. Said he wanted to talk to you.”
Ellie reaches out her hand to shake his, “M’ Joel,” she says in a gruff voice. Jesse’s eyes widen a bit. You hadn’t heard her man voice yet, it was a little silly. “Why don’t you go wait by my horse darlin’? I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Um, alright.” You didn’t love being booted from a conversation like that, but you were starting to get tired and your feet were starting to ache.
You walked out of the saloon to Ellie’s horse. You feel light and heavy at the same time. Then you remember you brought your own horse here. Your thoughts were so jumbled.
You walk over to grab her, untying her lead after a bit of a struggle. Figuring you would pony her over to the house. You would not ride horseback drunk. Again.
By the time you get back to Ellie’s horse she’s waiting for you. She grabs the lead from your hands and helps you up onto the horse. You were going to try like hell to remember the feeling of her hands on your hips.
“Thank you good sir,” you say with a giggle. She just shakes her head and mounts the horse, grabbing your horses lead before her horse begins to trot away from the saloon towards the quiet desert.
You probably couldn’t help the way you leaned against her back, pressing your body to hers. She was so warm. Your hands wrapped nice and tight around her waist and she hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even moved. She stayed sitting right up staring straight ahead. You couldn’t bring yourself to remember why you shouldn’t be doing this. You only knew that you wanted to and that’s what mattered right now.
“Who’s Joel?” You asked, cheek pressed against her leather coat.
“He’s- he was a friend.” She can barely disguise the sorrow in her voice.
“Was he your husband or somethin’?” Questions tend to just pour out of you in this state with no regard for the person you’re asking.
“No, no he was a good friend.”
“Mm, you’re lucky you never had a husband.”
“Why?”
“Well I don’t know if all husbands are like how mine was, but I wouldn’t try it again, just in case.”
“What happened?” You let the sound of the horses hooves hitting the dirt path fill the silence for a moment. You hadn’t really told anyone what happened in your house on the edge of town, where no one could hear you or see you.
“Well, I’ll start at the beginning I suppose. My daddy got sick, real sick and he wanted me to have a man to take care of me after he was gone. So I married a man he chose for me. I didn’t know him, I barely saw him before we got married. But I wanted to make sure my daddy could die knowing I’d be taken care of, so I did it. I still regret going through with it.” You nuzzle your cheek into her back, trying to get impossibly closer. “I still don’t like to think about our wedding night.”
“I’m sorry darlin’ you don’t have to-”
“No I want to, I haven’t said anything to anyone about this before. Kinda feels nice, I feel lighter. Anyways, we moved into that tiny house. It didn’t take long for him to get mean, real mean. Since we lived so far away, no one could hear the screamin’ and yellin’. I still have some scars from that him, that’s why I had that medical kit for you when you got hurt. I’ve had to clean myself up more times than I’d like to admit.” You let out an empty laugh.
“Where is he now?” Ellie’s voice has an anger in it that was terrifying, the type that was calm and sure. She knew exactly how she would remedy it.
“Well, every time he would hurt me I would threaten to shoot ‘em. He would laugh in my face like I had told some sort of fucked up joke. Here let me show you somethin’.” You hike up your dress, exposing the large scar on your thigh. You grab Ellie’s hand from the reins and place it on the Scar, her fingertips run gently across it, like she would hurt you if she pressed too hard. She traces around the jagged raised skin, it was like she was trying to put a picture of it together in her head. “The night he did that I shot him right in the chest. He was an evil, evil man. No one missed him. He’s buried about 500 feet from the house, his grave is unmarked.”
You feel Ellie’s body relax a bit. “That’s good. You did good.” She’s still absentmindedly running her hand along your thigh. The feeling made your breath hitch. Your whole body grows hot. You hadn’t ever felt anything like that. “He deserved it, I hope you know that.”
“Still doesn’t feel good though, didn’t make me feel any better when he was dead. The only thing that changed was that I was safe again.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when her hand slowly leaves your thigh, pulling your dress back down for you.
“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Sometimes it feels like the only solution though.”
“Yeah it does.”
** **
You’re half asleep by the time the horse stops in front of your house. You barely manage to lift your head up, but somehow you get off the horse.
“Go on inside, I’ll get the horses settled.” She didn’t have to tell you twice.
You were halfway to the house when you remembered, “Ellie,”
“Yes?”
“Come and sleep inside tonight.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @sakiigami @wishbones999 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @ellabssweetheart @lily-fics-11
If ur name is crossed out it wouldn’t let me tag u
Lmk what yall think! Notes, comments and reposts always appreciated! Thank you for all the support!
Ch. 3
#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x you#cowboy!ellie#western! au#cowboy!au#cowboys#cowgirl#the last of us 2
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Hi! Could I have some Arlecchino x fem reader fluff? Maybe going on a date together?
I am also currently obsessed with her, she’s just so askdskejdhdbdbdn >///<
Thank you!
YES THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST YOU JUST MADE MY DAY :D
Also that's literally so real she's taken over all my thoughts and she lives in my head absolutely rent free
A date with Mon ange - Arlecchino x fem!reader
This is NOT proofread if you see any grammar mistakes no you didn't
"My dear, with all due respect, I love your cookies but you burnt the hell out of them."
To say today was a disaster was an understatement, you didn't wake up to your alarm clock, which meant you missed the morning market where you often got some of Alrecchino's and Lynette's favorite treats. Not only that, but just an hour later, freminet came home with a large gash on his leg, which he had gotten when trying to maneuver through a shipwreck out at sea. Then, some of the children had roped you into playing games with them, and promptly forgot you had cookies in the oven.
So, it's safe to say Arlecchino's remark ended with you being even madder than before, even if you knew she was just making an observation.
"well if they're so burnt, bake them yourself next time!" You quickly stomped out of the room, hanging up your apron as you walked past the door. You quickly walked up the stairs and down the hall to your room, and slammed the door behind. You sat down at the small desk where you kept all of your stationary and makeup, immediately looking around for anything that couldn't be broken (or at least something not of high importance). Luckily, there was a small journal in the drawer, and you decided it would be better to journal then take your anger out on some poor object. After about 3 pages were filled, the sound of the door startled you a little, yet you kept writing in journal. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, and a kiss was planted on top of your head. Neither of you chose to speak, you just kept writing anything and everything, and she watched.
"would you like to go out to dinner tonight mon ange? I'm sure the maids can handle the children for tonight."
She finally broke the silence, and you put the pen and paper down. A small smile came across your face, as you finally looked up to see her face. While she often kept the neutral looking expression, you could see the difference in her eyes, a look of sadness from upsetting you was clear.
"that sounds lovely Alrecchino, where do you want to go?"
"you choose, we can go anywhere in Fontaine, don't worry about the cost." You were quick to open your mouth about not wanting to overspend, but she placed a kiss to your forehead, making your protests stop.
"you've had a bad day, you deserve whatever your heart desires [Name]." How she knew you had a bad day was above you, though you presumed she had guessed just from the way you lashed out.
"well then, I suppose I could go for some Tripes du Port right about now" your words brought a small smile to her face, and she placed one last small kiss on your head, before standing up.
"To the hotel debord it is then."
The hotel was never short of amazing, all the decorations so elegant, yet so simple at the same time. The two of you sat down in a corner of the restaurant, a candle in the center illuminating both your menus.
"What are you going to get Arle? You always seem to change it up when we come here." She didn't look up from her menu as you spoke, instead she focused on even more.
"I suppose I'll get cassoulet, I don't think I've tried it here yet." She set her menu down and gave you another small smile, one she often didn't flash in public, but she was sure no one was looking.
"oh and darling, you look great in that outfit, you should wear it more often." She took your hand and rubbed your hand reassuringly, her words were definitely ones you needed to hear.
"I'm glad you think so Arle, I bought it recently and haven't had any chances to wear it. I thought tonight would be a nice night to show it off." She took note of how you messed with the hem of the fabric, a tell tale sign you were flattered by her compliments.
The waitress walked over with 2 glasses of wine, and smiled at both of you as she pulled out a paper and pen
"what can I get you two tonight? If you're still not sure, I can come back in a few minutes." You smiled and nodded as both her and Arlecchino looked at you, it looks like you would be ordering first.
"I'll have the Tripes du Port please, oh, and a slice of your blueberry pie." You flash her another smile as you hand her the menu, and look over to Arle as she orders
"I'll have the cassoulet, please and thank you." The waitress nods as she finishes writing, and takes Arlecchino's menu.
"merci, I'll be back with those as soon as they're done!" The waitress gives one last smile before she walks off, and it's just you and Arlecchino again. She picks up her wine glass and takes a sip, before looking at you with expectancy.
"well drink up dear, you deserve it."
All of that food and wine practically made you forget about all of your problems from the day. Well, Arlecchino was the real reason, but having something to talk over definitely was helping. You couldn't help but smile and laugh at all of her stories, telling your own in return. You two were at the register, Arlecchino paying for your meals as you kept one hand tightly around hers.
"merci beaucoup! s'il vous plaît, revenez bientôt!"
(thank you very much! Please come again soon!)
Both you and Arlecchino say thank you as you walk out the doors, the cool Fontaine air hitting you the second you leave.
"thank you for tonight Arle, you don't know how much I appreciate it." You give her a soft smile, which melts her heart a little more each time she sees it.
"it's no problem dear, you had quite the interesting day" she chuckled, and ran her thumb across the back of your hand, still seemingly trying to comfort you. You laughed along with her, though the both of you went quiet just after; Slowly taking king in the beauty of Fontaine on the walk back to the house.
The two of you made it back just fine, and you walked home to a entrance that seemed cleaner than before. Alrecchino could already see the panic setting into your face, and she just sighed and placed a kiss to your cheek.
"I promise I gave the maids permission to clean without you here, and I made sure they did it to your tastes my dear. Is that all you're worried about?" You seemed to think for a moment, before quickly realizing the many responsibilities you didn't attend to today.
"oh my God I forgot to clean Lyney and Lynettes stage outfits! And I never went back to help the younger children with their homework and-" Arlecchino took off your coat as you rambled on, taking both yours and hers over to the coat rack while half listening to you. She came back and wrapped her hands around your waist, and nestled her face into the crook of your neck, placing a few light kisses against it.
"[name], did you write this all down in your journal earlier?"
"yes well-" you finally snapped out of your thoughts, and despite not being able to see it, you could sense the grin on her face.
"...you gave that list to the maids didn't you."
"if it makes you feel better, I rewrote it and handed that list to the maids, I left out the things you said about me, after all, some things are better kept secret, Mon ange." you groaned at her teasing words, yet ultimately thanked her for it.
"then I guess I owe you a big thanks Arle, you're amazing." You pressed your lips to hers, giving her yet another small smile.
"how about you show me how thankful you are right now and come lay down with me." Her hands unwrapped from around your waist, and she moved to take your hand and lead you towards the stairs. You happily followed behind her, curious to see just what she had in store for you.
I DONT KNOW HOW TO FINISH THIS IM GOING TO CRY BUT (HOPEFULLY) THERE WILL BE A PART 2
anyway I'm so so so sorry this took me so long, turns out musical + con preparations + school don't make for a great writing time. Thank you 🪼 anon for waiting, I'm sorry if you think this is shit it kind of is (・ัω・ั)
Daily click to help those in Palestine
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x y/n#genshin x female reader#genshin fanfic#genshin impact x female reader#arlecchino x y/n#arlecchino x you#arlecchino x reader#arlecchino#the knave
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a post i wanted to make for a few days now, when i was calmer
when the genocide started last year i went into a depression, because i knew the past decades of islamaphobia were leading up to this. again. so much effort was put into making middle easterners not human, but background characters who only exist to get shot at by western militaries. its normal to you that brown people die for literally no reason, and the western military is more of a unquestionable force of nature.
but here online, in left leaning web spheres, people pretend its different. we support poc! we support brown people! we'll show our support through being mad at news and making art! when i see white people make a brown oc, or put another girl in a hidjeb, or any number of poc tokenism, i'd always side eye it. of course there are people i trust. i dont befriend people i dont trust, but the rest? it always felt like it was just another trait to make the character stand out, in the same way you give them magic powers or an animal familiar that isn't a crow or a cat, or make them 6' 7" because your friend's oc is 6' 6". "Heh, this character's not white OR black, but this really cool third thing." (or fourth thing because they have japanese ocs)
So how am I supposed to feel? That things are getting better because I'm in a space that promises me that they think I'm human? I grew up in a Red city, and they still treated me fine to my face. Yeah, the fact of the matter is I wasn't visibly arab enough to be scary to them, but it's the same day-to-day mundanity that comes with tolerance. I'll be treated fine, but what happens when cards are on the table?
well now i know the answer!
white people are uncomfortable because now there is a price on human lives, and they're asking for your help. no more ambiguous handouts, no more "i'll donate to a reputable charity once every few years", you fucking hate that you have to grapple with the fact that there has been things you could've done all along to help the people around you on the verge of death. instead of coming to terms with that you created excuses, like every bigot does when they don't want to accept people of other identities. you're just like them.
i personally won't forget the people that admit to blocking and reporting cries for help from a genocide. i won't forget the people that questioned why someone would go to the people that claim to be anti-fasc for help. i won't forget that islamophobia has always existed in left-leaning circles. nobody should trust you, because you've made it clear you don't trust them.
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Dennis Reynolds is AUTISTIC!!!!
(At least, I headcanon him as such).
Here's why:
Sensory issues:
If you've watched the show, you probably already know what I mean, but Dennis really struggles to deal with sensory input. When there's a loud noise, he often covers his ears- like in Family Fight:
or he gets frustrated, lashing out at diners for being too loud (The Gang Dines Out), getting annoyed at Frank for chewing gum too loud.
It's worth noting that later on in this episode, Dennis can hear Frank chewing gum from the other room. He's clearly hypersensitive, and perhaps this even goes to explaining a little bit why his room is soundproofed? Could it be that rather than not wanting people to hear what's going on inside, he's desperate to block the noise coming from outside?? (this was suggested by @kod-lyoko , and I LOVE IT).
There are SO many examples of Dennis plugging his ears (often when the others don't react in such a strong way):
There are way too many examples to list here, and too many images I could give (the above were taken from @dennisboobs ' gif set) but hopefully you get the impression.
Social issues:
I feel like this one is pretty self-evident, but I find deconstructing the things Dennis does super fun, so I'm going to explain anyway: Dennis does NOT know how relationships work. There are a great deal of factors at play to cause this (I would argue that his early experiences in life definitely moulded his view in an unhelpful way) but the systematic way he looks at interactions REEKS of autism to me.
The DENNIS system is hardly peak autism representation (it's certainly not the bright and bubbly stuff people often talk about), but the fact that he has a system for romantic/sexual interactions, both for men AND women, feels super autistic-coded. He quite literally has a script which he follows to make interactions easier, one which he sticks to rigidly. And if anybody tries to implement this carefully thought out system incorrectly? Well, he'll let you know (e.g in The Dennis System episode where he blows up at Mac and Charlie for not getting it right at the fair).
He masks his social deficits well, but sometimes things don't go to plan. Sometimes, the girl on the cruise ship runs away, and Dennis announces that 'that's not supposed to happen'.
He comes off as creepy, but that's not his intention. He doesn't understand the way he's perceived by others in general- he thinks he's the King of St Joseph's, not realising he was actually an outcast all along. Just like a lot of autistic people, he didn't understand that he was on the fringes of society until it was thrust in his face, and that hurt.
Speech:
While Dennis often appears to speak pretty normally, there are a few occasions where his frustration causes this mask of normality to slip.
In The Gang Finds a Dumpster Baby, Dennis is caught off guard by the hipster's reading of him, and immediately goes back to Frank and Charlie, parroting almost the same words he heard right back to them, despite not seeming to understand them at all (perhaps a form of echolalia?).
"I'm out here trying to make a difference, and you're over here rummaging around in the trash like a couple of narcs! Okay, you can't just come down here with your mainline cashmere, mousse... quaff... hairspray, and start being like, a suburban tool!"
It's also worth noting that even the poetic way he speaks when he's angry could be a trait ?? As a recently diagnosed autistic person, in my report they spoke about how I used 'idiosyncratic' language (basically, peculiar language lol), and listed terms like 'connoisseur', which I guess were deemed pretty formal for casual conversation.
And it got me thinking, who else do we know who uses VERY idiosyncratic language? Dennis. Reynolds.
"The thunder of my vengeance will echo through these halls, like the gust of a thousand winds"
"Begone, vile man, begone from me!... I am untethered and my rage knows no bounds!"
"You didn't tell me there was to be pollen!"
Etc... etc...
The way he repeats 'savages, idiots!' during his rage at the frat bros feels very autism coded to me. Repetition of certain words and phrases is common!
Heightened emotions:
Again, something that I didn't know until I myself was diagnosed is that for a lot of autistic people, we spend most of the time at a pretty 'flat' emotional state, but when we do experience emotions, we experience them intensely. Frustration turns into anger, sadness turns into despair, happiness turns into ecstasy- it's why some autistic people might be misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder!
This, of course, fits well with the way Dennis experiences emotions. He spends a lot of the time believing he doesn't have any at all, and when he does feel something, it's overwhelming.
"And I have feelings! Of course I have feelings, I have big feelings, okay? And it hurts."
These lines hit hard regardless of the extra weight you put on them, but when you see them through the lens of autism, through the lens of a lifetime of misunderstanding and overstimulation, it makes them hit even harder.
It hurts him to feel. His emotions are so strong that they're painful, and he's never been taught how to deal with them, because nobody even knew he had them in the first place.
Stimming:
Finally, I think Dennis stims. A lot. If you search up 'Dennis Reynolds autistic' on this very site, you'll find gifsets and videos illustrating this.
He has a few very common ones, like tugging on his earlobe when he's anxious, playing with his fingers, etc, but if you pay attention to him even when he's in the background of scenes, you'll pick up on a lot. Dennis is constantly moving, and while you could suggest this is simply a result of Glenn's ADHD, I'd argue that some of these stims happen so frequently in Sunny specifically, that there's no way they're coincidental.
Glenn makes a lot of very specific acting and directorial choices in Sunny, so why dismiss these as choices too?
That's all I can be bothered to type up now, but here's my case for Autistic!Dennis ! Of course, he's a complex character so there's always room for different interpretations...
but as an autistic person, I hereby claim him as One Of Us™.
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Bill Skarsgård on Remaking Nosferatu and the Pressure of “F--king With a Masterpiece”
The actor on Pennywise, Count Orlok, and the lure of monstrous characters.
(for those who weren’t able to read the article due to a paywall the full interview is now under the cut)
“I’ve always been a very happy monster.” So said Boris Karloff in 1962, looking back at three decades of creatures, ghouls, and killers that defined so much of his life onscreen. Bill Skarsgård hasn’t been at it nearly as long, but his tendency to play supernatural and terrifying figures suggests that, like his fiendish predecessor, he’s made peace with monstrosity.
The blockbusters It and It: Chapter 2 made him a horror icon as Pennywise the Dancing Clown, carrying on a long tradition in his Swedish acting family—which includes his father, Stellan, and older brothers Alexander and Gustaf—of playing haunting roles in hair-raising films. Since Pennywise, Bill has specialized in sinister, scene-stealing parts, from a high-society sociopath in John Wick: Chapter 4 to his recent turn as the otherworldly avenger of this year’s reboot of The Crow. His latest turn finds him playing the vampiric title character in Nosferatu, from The Witch and The Lighthouse filmmaker Robert Eggers, in a collaboration that brings an ominous new approach to the bat-faced antagonist of the 1922 silent film.
For Vanity Fair’s 2025 Hollywood Issue, he talked about touching the void and more.
Vanity Fair: We spoke years ago when you were about to start filming It, and you talked about the challenges of inhabiting an inhuman monster.
Bill Skarsgård: That was the first time—and wouldn’t be the last time—that I was taking on this kind of iconic character that has been done before so well, and that people love and cherish. The whole journey of that was so weird. If I spoke to you after the production, I would’ve been much more confident that we had something that was very special, but in the process of it, I was just like, Why did he cast me? I can’t do this.
We did speak again afterward. You talked about going home to your parents’ house after you finished shooting and being plagued by dreams about the character.
Those dreams were so strange. Either I was confronting Pennywise and I was upset with him, yelling at him—or I was Pennywise, but I was walking around in the streets that I grew up on, and I’m like, No, no. I shouldn’t be out here in public walking around like this. This is not how it’s supposed to be done. It was this weird thing where I was trying to separate myself from this thing, literally back in the place that I grew up in, in the same apartment that I grew up in.
Count Orlok in Nosferatu also emerges from a deep, dark place. What was it like for you to take that particular emotional ice bath?
Count Orlok was very different than Pennywise in a lot of ways. Orlok was even further away from who I am than Pennywise was, in the sense that my voice, posture, age, the look of it, it was just so far out there. That became the challenge. Before putting on the prosthetics, we explored so many weird things and looked into butoh, this sort of Japanese corpse dancing. We explored so many trippy things.
Did you say “corpse dancing”?
Yeah, butoh is this Japanese corpse dance. It’s all these, kind of, mummified movement patterns. It’s spectacular. It brought this much more precise and much more rigid and slow movement. Basically the outfit and the prosthetics helped so much. The voice was what I worked the hardest on. I worked with an opera singer—she tried to get it as low as possible. My brother Gustaf came to set when we were shooting. He’s sitting there and he gets the headphones on and he hears [deep growling sounds] and is like, “What the fuck is going on?” It must have seemed very insane.
Since you come from an acting family, I wondered what role your dad and your brothers play in your decision-making process or in your professional life.
I don’t talk to them in the sense of like, “Hey, do you think I should do this thing or that thing?” Of course, subconsciously, they’re such a big part of my life. It’s hard to quantify how much effect they’ve had in terms of my taste or in terms of performances. It’s great to have their support, more so in life in general than acting itself. It’s nice to be able to talk to your family, just going, like, “Oh, this shoot was a nightmare because of this and this and this.” And they’re like, “Oh yeah, totally. Tell me about it.” The job, the profession of acting, can feel kind of lonely sometimes. It just feels nice to have so many people, close people, around you that truly know what it’s like.
Especially after Nosferatu, people are going to look at your work and see a lot of monsters and a lot of dark figures. Why do you think you’ve been drawn to these characters?
I think those characters are drawn to me as much as I’m drawn to them. It’s a mutual kind of attraction. The fact that they’re drawn towards me is a bunch of different reasons, everything from the way you look, you have a sensibility, there’s a darkness about you, or there’s an intensity.
And it’s something you enjoy too?
Even going back to some of the earlier stuff I did in Sweden, transformation has always been very appealing to me—and playing characters that are very different than me. I played a character that was autistic when I was 19, and I loved it. I had so much joy in it. He’s not a dark character, he’s a very sweet character. But you study, and you change your voice. With Pennywise, that became my ultimate transformation. I just really enjoyed it. Now with Orlok, I really enjoy transforming as much as I humanly can. I think that’s very exciting.
Do you feel a curiosity about the more dangerous side of human nature?
The darker characters also tend to be more complex. More mental gymnastics are needed. Again, with Orlok, it’s like, Okay, if it’s an ancient sorcerer that speaks from a different realm and possesses all of this power and knowledge, what makes power and knowledge ultimately corrupt a soul as opposed to creating a messiah?
Do you ever worry about getting typecast?
I definitely don’t want to exclusively play those kind of roles, but I’ve never seen the appeal of the classic star, a movie star. The difference between a movie star and an actor is that a movie star plays himself in every part, in a way. Whereas as an actor transforms. There are people that play themselves, and they’re brilliant every single time, but it’s the same thing and they have that shtick. For me, I just don’t think that I’m that charismatic or interesting, so I can’t just lean on that. I need to transform as far away from me as possible.
Do you feel a kinship with actors from the past, like, say, Lon Chaney or Boris Karloff, who played dark beings and often transformed their regular appearances?
It’s a great question. Yeah, I do. But that being said, it was never my particular goal to be the “creature actor,” if you will. There are so many [actors] I draw inspiration from. A lot of other actors that are not known for their intense transformations are some of my favorites as well. I haven’t really studied the greats of prosthetics or creature performances in that way. I’ve watched a lot of it, but I don’t watch performances for inspiration per se, because there’s always this thing of emulation that I don’t want to go down. For Orlok, predatory animals felt like a cleaner source of inspiration.
You mentioned earlier that, several times now, you’ve played a character that is well-known from a previous iteration, but you did it in a new and different way. Did you feel that again with Nosferatu?
Orlok is also Dracula. To me, in terms of iconic horror characters, the number one is Dracula/Nosferatu. It’s the most seminal work of literature in gothic horror for sure. I think it’s been adapted more than probably any other book. This story is so ingrained in our subconscious that it was very daunting to step into it. I was a huge fan of [Robert] Eggers before. He and I would have these things we’re like, “What are we doing? Why are we doing Nosferatu? Are we taking on something too big here?” We felt that kind of pressure of fucking with a masterpiece. But the movie deserves its place as a new interpretation.
What’s on the horizon for you next?
I’ve always cherished the idea of being as versatile as I possibly can. I also want to do a kitchen-sink drama, I want to do a dark, fucked-up comedy. I want to make those choices or advocate for those choices. You have to fight against being typecast or put into a box. The more you fight against it, the bigger the box tends to get.
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So, I watched that response stream that DeadwingDork made about my furry boinking video, here it is if you're curious.
youtube
By some accounts, this gentleman seems like he means well, with regards to pronouns he pulls the "when in doubt, they/them" gambit, which is partway there. If he finds this, I'll politely let him know I don't use they, just she & it. Thanks!
I have good reason to believe he began this journey in good faith, but over the course of the video he slowly gives up being charitable, and it's very frustrating to watch. There's a few key moments of miscommunication I noticed that I'd like to clear up.
DeadwingDork and I got off on the wrong foot very early on, and part of that's my fault. I start the video openly lusting after Garth Alphandomega, and this put him on edge. This might be an ideological difference we can't get past, he says that Garth is "Just a wolf" when I personally think he's quite different from a wolf. After that, I do the joke where I say "If the opportunity presented itself I would fuck my-" and cut to The Flowers of Robert Mapplethorpe, but he didn't have the context to understand what I'm saying by cutting to that album in particular, so he thought I was jokingly saying I would fuck my dog. He spends the rest of the stream with that initial impression of me lusting after what he perceives as literal animals, it's kinda the initial rock that starts the avalanche and closes him off from understanding basically anything that I'm saying, until the end, where he's convinced I've just spent 43 minutes coming out as a zoophile.
This might just be a difference in artistic philosophy, like he interprets Alpha & Omega to be about wolves whereas I interpret it as being about people through the aesthetic lens of wolves. Metaphor isn't just for abstract art movies, after all. Garth walks on 4 legs, but he has enough obvious persistent human-like traits both visually and behaviorally for me to understand him as a person delivered via wolf. For the same reason, he is disturbed by my lusting for Shoukichi Pompoko, because he interprets that movie as literally being about tanuki. I think this the main reason the concept of a character being "simultaneously human and inhuman" completely whiffed on him. He skimmed over my segment on how Leo can be both a wolf and hispanic & didn't understand the relevance, because I don't think that contradiction can be resolved in his head.
The most frustrating part of this stream is the way he clearly picks up on a lot of the overarching subtext that I'm putting down, but by that point in the video he doesn't have enough faith in me to interpret it as being put there intentionally. He treats the connection between my special-ed dog training and my current animal identity as an unintentional self-report, when it isn't. There's this *maddening* segment where I talk about Pom Poko for the first time, and he... honestly quite accurately picks apart the picture I'm illustrating about alienation, but he handwaves it away in favor of his horrible mangling of the exact literal sentence I am saying at that moment.
He says:
"There's clearly a story here, but it's being buried. There's a lot of stuff that's leading towards... 'oh, you watched this movie and this movie and your parents did this and your fuckin' teachers did this, and that's why this is happening.' That's like the fuckin' undertones of this video, [but] the main takeaway is supposed to be that this movie... I dunno, makes you f.. is supposed to feel like how fuckin' animal people feel like they're... whatever, I don't, I don't... whatever."
He grabs at the subtext, the story I'm obviously telling with the surface level anecdote of my experience seeing Pom Poko when I was young. I say obviously, because he and his chat both understood it. But then he discards that, assumes it was unintended, and importantly, he doesn't have a good answer for what I'm actually saying divorced from that. Because... what's even left after you remove the subtextual story I'm telling with this anecdote? The anecdote itself? Of course he's empty handed.
Other notes:
He can't decide whether I'm an over zealous recruiter trying to call everything furry, or that I'm a gatekeeper trying to force robust definitions of 'furry' into the general lexicon. This isn't very important, it's just kind of funny.
He is dismissive of me saying I won't report news if my only source is Kiwifarms, but he doesn't really give a good reason for it. I am having trouble summarizing his argument for why I should have referenced a website whose users doxxed me. He hilariously suggests that I should negotiate with them to have my address taken down, as long as I'm not a "lolcow" about it. I'll be charitable and say that I don't think he's thought this through very much.
He hates that I "compare autistic people to animals," when that really just doesn't mean anything on its own. A comparison is a comparison, a follower of mine pointed out to me they could say that trans people are like cockroaches & it could either mean they are doggedly resilient in the face of harsh circumstances or that they are pests that need to be exterminated. I meant something specific by using an animal metaphor to describe my autistic identity, and it transcends the literal reading of "calling autistic people animals."
He derisively calls Echo a "gay furry sex game" when it simply is not. I'll forgive him for this because he hasn't played it, but Echo isn't porn, it's a horror game. There's sex in it, and it has the framework of a dating game, but it is far from the main appeal. I'm not saying this to elevate Echo above the degrading label of "porn," because Adastra is definitely porn and it's almost as good, just not as easily recommendable to outsiders.
He thinks its commendable that Sean Booth bought my album, which is nice.
Overall, I don't think DeadwingDork is outwardly hateful, but he is quite gullible. He accepts hate speech at face value and buys into narratives useful for hate movements. There's echos of trans groomer panic, that old "you're the reason people are transphobic" chestnut, and of course, using Kiwifarms as a news source. He said he came into the video knowing nothing about me and had no reason to be approaching me in bad faith, but he clearly doesn't trust me enough to think the main rhetorical thrust of the video was intentional.
bad stream lol
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...
[*sighs*] I HATE THEM SO MUCH (/affectionate)
Like you don't understand. The first thing I noticed was Three and Tari, it already got me spiraling.
We all know that Three loves explosive chaos, especially when he is the one who causes it. He literally has a shop called "III's Coffee & Bombs" for meme's sake. Mr Puzzles knows that. Not only because Three uses them in his productions, but because Three tried to bomb him in the final fight during the Puzzlevision Movie.
Basically, Mr Puzzles is like
"You tried to kill me with your precious bombs, let's see how much you like it when we switch places, huh?"
Same thing goes for Tari, she was the one who used her metal arm to shoot him. As much as she was scared of Mr Puzzles, she was incredibly brave to confront him in the final fight. Not only that, Clench was a part of it too.
But without her arm, Tari might feel powerless.
"Without your robotic arm, you are nothing but a coward." - Mr Puzzles, probably
As for Boopkins, we didn't get to see him in the trailer but we know he's trapped there in Puzzle Park.
We know he isn't a sea monster but I suppose for Mr Puzzles, he's literally "a fish out of water", too "different" compared to the rest of the crew. (Which is not true considering the roster here). Mr Puzzles must've been feeling the same way, being different from everyone else and no one liking him.
Then, there's Bob with the knives. Bob had swords for hands presumably because he was bullied by Baby Wario and Waluigi and wanted to act/look cool. He changed and he's content with who he is now. (wow, really going in for trans Bob, huh)
Mr Puzzles also changed, but it was due to his obsession.
Yeah... Mr Puzzles is really projecting his insecurities onto the SMG4 Crew, calling them freaks when he himself "qualifies" as one. Especially in the state he's in right now. Ironic, isn't it?
But in his eyes, he's different. He's superior. No one understands his view of thinking, they could never. They didn't for his art, they didn't for him as Mr Puzzles. (There is no way "Mr Puzzles" is his actual name, It feels more like a stage name tbh.)
I knew the Marty speech would come back in some way,
"…And it's time for… everyone to suffer like I have! At the hands… of the one thing YOU love the MOST.”
But guys, if they bring up the whole freak show thing in WOTFI, Goop!Four could happen (please make it happen, for me specifically). I could just imagine:
Mr Puzzles: "And now, the greatest freak of them all: SMG4 and his keyboard goo!" SMG4, shocked: "...what?" Mr Puzzles: "Did you really think it was over in 'It's Gotta be Perfect'? Oh, SMG4. The goo never left your body. This is who you always wanted to be, you should've been more careful what you wished for." [*evil laughter*]
Then, it all comes together from the "SMG4: Inside Out" episode, and the goo takes over Four with the man in blue screaming in pain...
Is this ever going to happen? No. Am I thinking too much into this for a silly poster? Yeah. BUT I can't help it, I've gone insane over this.
#smg4#smg4 wotfi#wotfi 2024#smg4 mr puzzles#smg4 smg3#smg4 tari#smg4 boopkins#smg4 bob#ink rambles#goop!SMG4
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I don’t know if you’ve already covered this, but I had a question to ask about the VDC in Book 5. To clarify, I understand that RSA needed to win for thematic and character arc purposes, and that in-lore it was an audience vote not a professional one. The story beats line up. But the choice of cutesy and childlike RSA performance over the more refined and professional NRC performance still doesn’t quite click with me. Is there some kind of cultural difference that didn’t translate to explain why one performance was supposed to be understood as preferred over the other? Even if it was an audience vote, the standards should be higher just by virtue of this being a big name competition for teenagers held at a prestigious school.
Very quickly, I want to add a couple other points that help to explain why RSA won over NRC! Book 6 opens early on with Vil noting that NRC was not able to perform as well as they wanted to since they had just come out of a difficult battle against his OB form. (Because of this, he accepts responsibility for their loss.) Thus, the NRC performance may not have actually been as "refined", "professional", or as polished as we imagine it to be.
Additionally, it’s stated in book 5 that RSA’s song choice had universal appeal whereas NRC’s did not. We see this effect on the production crew when Neige and the Seven Dwarves do their practice run; their performance has a refreshing and soothing effect on what appears to be an older audience (as it plays to their nostalgia); we must consider this when evaluating RSA and NRC. For example, I know that I really disliked NRC's performance (sue me/j) because it sounded very oppressive and therefore unrelatable to me. The lyrics are literally about how NRC will dominate their opponents and win 😭 Sure, the music and lyrics for Neige's song aren't complex, but they're at the very least accessible and easy to follow along with. (That's not to say that I prefer RSA's performance though; I'm just explaining why someone might not find NRC's performance appealing.)
Lastly! We as players are looking at the two song + dance numbers from an omniscient perspective. We need to consider our own biases when judging, and accept that it may differ from the characters in-universe view things. Maybe you prefer NRC’s performance. That’s fair! But how much of that is informed by your personal music preferences? And how much of that comes from your attachment to the NRC characters, since you’ve followed their stories up until this point? As Rook points out in book 5, he’s aware of how hard NRC has worked to get here… but he’s also aware of Neige’s hardships too (er, in terms of his lifestyle; ie living with the dwarves and doing chores, etc.). Consider then, would you honestly not have a bias for RSA had Twisted Wonderland’s story centered on them instead of NRC?
It’s also worth noting that how things are seen in Twisted Wonderland may reflect its own unique culture rather than how we in the real world may perceive it. Maybe the people of Twisted Wonderland just prefer a cute, nostalgic performance. This may not necessarily correlate with west or east at all and that has always been a possibility! (While TWST does take inspirations from the real world, it’s not a 1:1 with the real world.)
dkhlbaiyfadvfoad Okay, NOW onto the actual question being pitched!
When you look at media from different countries, there are some stark differences in how the same information is presented. One example is like... any Gordon Ramsay show yes, I am using him as an example. Compare the American cut and the British cuts; there are much more loud sound effects, dramatic music, yelling, and cussing in the American cuts. The British cuts, by comparison, are notably quieter and contemplative, with hardly any cursing. Another example! Looking at variety shows from the east vs the west, they're quite different as well. Eastern variety shows tend to be "cute", usually using various cute sound effects or edits which make the guests appear more bashful (like drawing blush over their cheeks or something). We don't see this in western TV shows, which are louder and more boisterous. I've noticed a similar trend in the music industries of the east vs the west as well, where eastern stars tend to emphasize their youthfulness and playfulness and western stars try to be more "mature" and grown-up. These are just my personal observations and may not reflect reality, especially seeing as I am not involved in music-oriented spaces.
I asked friends and personal contacts in both eastern and western pop music fandom spaces for their own insights (which is also in no way representative of both fandoms, but at least this gives us other perspectives for consideration). To summarize, most of them replied that they did not think cultural differences account for this situation, since equating a preference for a "cute" aesthetic is not the same as RSA performing what is basically a nursery rhyme. There's no real-world equivalent for that (at least none that they can think of), and I agree with all of this. There’s really no point in trying to compare the two.
I remember lots of Japanese fans being upset at NRC’s loss too (when book 5’s ending was first put out), so the impression I got was they didn’t prefer the performance of RSA over NRC either. It was not just the international fandom that was disappointed. I don’t believe TWST ever intentionally set out to present “Everyone Yahoo!” as the “superior” song and dance number, or as the performance we’re supposed to like more than the other. It was very much framed as something pathetic and unlikely to win in most of the eyes of the NRC characters. They make fun of RSA’s clumsiness and claim it’ll be easy to win over them. The player most likely is supposed to think this way too—until Vil, the one with an eye for showbiz, realizes his loss. Why? Because it doesn’t matter what we think. What matters is how this clumsy performance will resonate with the common person.
What I think it ultimately comes down to is emotional appeal to the audience, which is more of a personal/individual level thing than a cultural thing. The competition is decided by audience vote. The average person honestly does not care about quality or standards. No one is giving them rules to evaluate by, no one is going to tell them off for not having strict standards. They will pick based on what they like best or whatever makes them feel good. And what will make anyone feel food, regardless of age, sex, race, education, socioeconomic status, etc.? Something cozy and familiar, thoughts of simpler times… Nostalgia.
Something else to think about is what a powerful motivator emotions can be. There are irl idol competition shows that are high stakes and decided by audience vote just like VDC/SDC… and people will still vote for their favorites even if they gave a technically bad performance. This is because fans are so emotionally invested in and attached to the performer. It doesn’t matter how “bad” they are, the performer/performance makes the audience member feel impassioned, and they will then act according to those intense feelings. Think about what you’re like when you’re in a terrible mood vs a good one. You act completely differently, right?
I hope that perspective helps! 🙏 I tried to be as thorough as I could be in this response, but please let me know if I misspoke or maybe missed a point.
P.S. I happen to be responding to this ask after TWST showed us the NRC Tribe’s dance performance in a MMD video. I wonder if this only made the “NRC should have own” crowd double down on that opinion since now we’re seeing just what their performance looks like 🤔 (though we don’t have a complete MMD video of Neige’s group to directly compare, just this which shows part of the dance and not in the same clumsy way that Neige and co. perform it).
#twisted wonderland#twst#Neige LeBlanche#Vil Schoenheit#Rook Hunt#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#book 6 spoilers#book 5 spoilers#notes from the writing raven#question#Seven Dwarves#Gordon Ramsay
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No matter what you think about Brock and Rusty one thing is true they raised those boys together. And anyone will tell you kids pick up qualities of their guardians/parents which influences how they go about things.
The influence of Brock on Hank is simple, it’s the one the show starts off with and we see easily throughout the show. I wish they could’ve done more with Dean and Brock, unfortunately they don’t overlap enough to do something with but when they have overlapped the small moments, you stretch it you can see the impact Brock has on Dean.
“He believes in this stuff, not like Hank.”
“I have watched you pull a man eye from his head, made him dance like marionette with his own optic nerves.” “At least I didn’t break his heart.”
Heart is Brock entire thing. He is punished for his act of heart going against OSI and getting Billy and Pete together, him racing back in PROM, his attachment to the Ventures, and funny enough his lack of any real love life is because Brock does things true to his heart even when he’s not supposed to (“you’re a tool for the government.”)
That’s super easy to see in Hank, he follows his guns, jumps in, doesn’t second guess if he’s wrong. For Dean it comes out in belief of there being Good Guys. Something Brock shares. For a man who has no real issue with murder the idea of “Good guys” is a thing he sticks with very seriously. Dean copies this to a Dorky level coming off naive but it’s literally the same packaged differently.
Hank knows though everyone is just some guy, a bad guy or a good guy you are just some guy. A lot like his dad in that respect, when you understand this is all a game you can’t really bother with genuinely thinking of sides just how you interact within it. (Hank not really put off about dating Sirena even if her dad is his dad arch. That’s more of an obstacle that they are put into arch and protag categories so he can’t date her normally bc it’s not an actual *thing* for him)
Dean however is under the firm belief there are sides, they can work together sometimes bc he’s seen it, but like Brock, he believes in sides and gets riled up by it.
Speaking of riled up, Dean has Brock temper. I didn’t think much about it to be honest, it shows itself twice physically (Rusty Camp, radiant of the baboon) but when I hop around episodes now I see it in newer episodes. Dean temper is similar to Brock when he is really pushed off the need to protect or save another quality that is picked up by Brock.
Brock aggression is something Dean who is used to seeing it come out when he, hank and doc need protecting, saving, or an affective tactic. Another thing is Brock was and probably still is both boys example of classic masculinity in contrast to their dad (I’ll get back to this on another post.) I think Dean unintentionally mimics it, and I kinda believe we would’ve seen more of it if Dean was put into more situations where he was worried for someone else since the Rusty camp one was for Triana and the movie was for Hank. (Both against Dermontt which shouldn’t count but I am which I will get to in a different post about jealousy in VB)
Brock is the stereotypical “man” he protects the home, he kills to protect, his basics are that man spiel I don’t need to say we know it. Brock masculinity is never questioned really, it oozes out of him and is loudly punctuated. When it comes to sex it’s the same thing, to a problem. I think Dean inherited that, im not saying the one time Dean did a shitty sex related thing makes him like Brock but I actually think it’s more of a Brock move than Rusty weirdly enough. Probably because Brock has hooked up with people wives/gf but that’s not the reason why I say it.
Dean reason with hooking up with Sirena wasn’t really solid, because I don’t think there was a solid reason he did it just because it was happening. That’s why I think it’s more of a Brock move. Rusty we’ve seen talked himself out of being with women who even like him, yes he hooked up with a fan bc she was a fan. She wasn’t someone who can end up seeing his flaws, end up maybe loving back because love is frightening for Rusty because he wants it. If there was a room and a woman who was slightly interested in Rusty, Rusty would magically get out of the room then COMPLAIN he is out the room. We see it repeatedly he will make up reasons really get in his head to jump ship only to stick to people who don’t love him. Or like him.
Hank is the same line but opposite, he is open to love! Yes like Brock his attention to who is quick and focused but Hank is committed because he wants to be loved. Hank is scared of not being loved, he worries although less obviously or loudly about it, and leans hard into it. Action man called him on it, that he resembles Rusty in being downright too attached.
I’ll be honest here it’s so unlikely to actually see it but once you see the Rusty in Hank you’ll end up seeing the Brock in Dean. I remember a YouTube comment saying “Dean is all the negatives [of other people] it’s why I don’t like him.”
I don’t hate Dean, I don’t love Dean but I get Dean so while I don’t 100% agree with that comment I do get it. Dean picks up sometimes the worst traits because he’s so easy to imprint on. He’s funny like that, weirdly easy to leave an impression on but unaware how he repeats things of people he doesn’t want to. Brock being promiscuous, Rusty nostalgic past, the idea of what is important to a man etc Dean mimics it unknowingly. I don’t think that was the root of hooking up with Sirena, (bc the reason is bs yall) I’m just thinking of domino effect of parenting.
There’s a lot of Rusty in Dean literally everything Dean has is Rusty. But where they don’t match up are the core, Dean now understands his dad and they are the same brand of Venture boy but I really think Brock influence on both boys is there for good and bad it just harder to find in Dean. But I think it comes out when Dean stops letting his mind run too much, when he trusts himself, when he’s standing up for something, when he lets his body drive.
But I’m just spitballing! I just don’t believe Dean is all Doc, just like Hank isn’t all Brock. We just didn’t get a lot of time with the boys switched around
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So how come we can tell that Elain wants azriel and is attracted to azriel but Eluciens claim they need Elain's POV to confirm she doesn't want Lucien??
Idk it's almost like thoughts and acts and verbal things she has said matter?? It's almost like... we don't need everyone and their mother's POV to tell very basic information??
Y'all acting like she is a complete black box just because we don't have her POV yet 😭😭
What if I said "oh we need Lucien's POV to tell he actual feels a bond and didn't orchestrate a fake mating bond to claim an Archeron sister after she got made?"
"But he wouldn't do that"
How am I supposed to know he wouldn't!! We don't have his POV either 🤪 he could be Koschei for all we know 🤷🏻♀️
And nobody better fucking bring up Feyre hating Rhys or Nesta kicking Cassian in the balls. Their words differed from their actions. They might've SAID they hated their love interests at the time, but their ACTIONS differed. Anyone who genuinely thought Feyre hated Rhys or Nesta hated Cassian is literally just lying atp because come on what do you mean you didn't pick up on that?? Nesta was willing to die for Cassian and Feyre was literally thinking Rhys was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Be so fr.
Elain's actions match her words. We don't need her POV to know that.
Good morning! This might be a long response, so hope you enjoy!
Elain Archeron is a book character. Books follow standards enacted by the stricture of narratives, and how stories are told overall—in short, the reader is being told something through a book. A story is told through settings, dialogue, characters, et cetera. While the reader may be able to create their own theories, pick up on literary devices, and generate predispositions, until the reader is fully informed by the intent of the author on page, it is speculation.
When people claim that we need Elain’s POV to understand how she is feeling towards Lucien, that is very much true. There is a plethora of reasons as to why she shifted her composure around him between ACOWAR and ACOSF. From asking if he is alright and inviting him to Velaris, to shrinking around him? Until we are in her inner monologue and seeing what she is seeing, the reader can only speculate. Is she now very horny for him, is the mating bond chafing when he’s around, did she have a vision of their future, is she wildly attracted to him, et cetera? The same way that people claim she is in love with Azriel is the same way we claim we need her POV—neither is true until Elain confirms it herself with her own thoughts, feelings, and words.
Now, I want to bring up “thoughts, actions and verbal things,” because, more often than not, it is misconstrued. The only instance where the reader might be swayed to believe that Elain feels anything for Azriel is the almost kiss in the bonus chapter. However, we only had Azriel’s POV. Compared to Wings and Embers bonus chapter with Nessian, the reader was lacking the female’s POV. With Nesta and Cassian, we read that both were feeling the pull towards each other in that chapter. In ACOSF, we were limited to just Azriel—why is that? As for the other lines of dialogue that are seemingly connected to Elriel, those are regarding Graysen. “I don’t want a male,” would also be applied to Azriel, no? “And that love would trump even a mating bond,” is about Graysen.
I have been asked before how I can confidently ship Elucien when Elain seemingly lost her “newfound boldness,” and, “shrunk in on herself,” when Lucien came during Solstice. While I do understand how some people can read that as a negative for the ship, I once again have to say that we do not know why either of those actions happened. There has been zero indication that Lucien is forcing himself on her, is bad for her, and/or is disrespecting her wishes, so why has Elain suddenly started acting like this? This is why we claim that we need her POV for all of these unanswered questions.
Essentially, Elain is a blank sheet of paper. Could she stay this newfound meek personality and live all her days in a small cottage with a garden, or will she revert back into her old personality and become the socialite that she once was? While the reader can understand some of her character, she is still more shifted towards the background and is lacking the substance that a fleshed out POV and aligned character development would offer to her. This is one of the reasons why so many people seemingly dislike her character, because she has not been able to explain her actions. This was similar to Nesta.
The example you brought up with Lucien and the bond needing clarification actually was solved very quickly in ACOMAF. When Feyre unleashed Helion’s spellcleaving magic and broke the bonds in Hybern, she would have broken any fake mating bond tied to Elain and Lucien. Feyre has also been inside of Lucien’s head while he was experiencing the tug of mating instincts. Elain has felt the tug of the bond and Lucien was able to experience her from the inside due to the bond. They both have experienced mating behavior towards each other. The reader has had a snippet of Lucien’s POV.
Feyre, Nesta and Elain are all similar in how they were reluctant to accept the bond at first—the only difference is that Elain is fully aware of the bond before she accepts it. Feyre and Nesta were stuffed into forced close proximity with both of their mates, which also differs from Elain, and her sisters also had access to their mates before they turned fae. Elain met Lucien the night she turned fae and had very little alone time with him. Feyre and Nesta both experienced firsthand the chaffing of the bond while being so close to their mates for so long, but Elain has not. Elain was in love and engaged to Graysen and was now suddenly tossed a fae male as her mate, while simultaneously losing her humanity? It is only reasonable that she would not be jumping for joy over this new revelation.
SJM is an author that uses similar patterns across her entire body of work. To say that we cannot compare how she wrote Feysand and Nessian to Elucien in the same series makes no sense to me. Now, I do believe that you have contradicted yourself in your paragraph regarding Feyre and Nesta. I agree, while they may have claimed that they wanted nothing to do with their mates, their actions showed the reader otherwise. Elain is similar with Lucien, however, she has not once said that she hated him, wanted him gone, wanted to reject the bond, et cetera. Anything she has said against wanting a fae male was because she wanted Graysen and to return to her mortal life. Her actions towards Lucien have included worriment for his safety, relief that he is alright, inviting him to Velaris, keeping all of his Solstice gifts, the half step, et cetera. Someone who planned on rejecting the bond with their mate would not have done any of the above.
If the reader does not need Elain’s POV, why would she need an entire book? If her thoughts, feelings, and actions are fully explained from another’s POV, why would she need to explain herself in her own inner monologue? She already has hobbies, friends, a lover, a home, joy, purpose, and family—what would be the point of her having a book?
I so hope I managed to answer your question. Have a good day!
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