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[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 3)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: fluff, smut this is the last part so I hope you enjoy it!!

part 2

It would be an understatement to say that Charles was over the moon when you and Louise showed up in the paddock on the race day. He was so delighted and happy that he had a hard time hiding it, and everyone present could see it.

He didn't separate from Lou, and he thanked you several times for bringing her and for coming with her telling you how much that meant to him.

Of course, you both attracted the attention of all the media, knowing that tomorrow the main news on the internet will be how Charles' ex-girlfriend appeared with his daughter in the paddock for the first time after a full year since the breakup.

The cameras were everywhere, but having learned from previous experiences, you decided to ignore them and pretend they didn't exist. All you were focused on was giving your daughter an unforgettable weekend and supporting Charles as well.

Lou got hungry so you and Charles decided to get her something to eat at the Ferrari hospitality. Lou didn't know what she wanted to eat, so Charles decided to leave his things at your table, including his phone, and said he would go with her to the restaurant to choose. While Lou went with Charles, you sat down at the table and scrolled through your phone waiting for them to come back.

“Am I seeing things or is it really y/n?” A very familiar voice asked you, making you look up from your phone.

“Carlos!” You smiled from ear to ear as you stand up to hug him.

“It’s been some time since I’ve seen you in the paddock. How come you’re here?” He asks curiously.

“Lou had a hard time accepting that she wouldn't be spending this weekend with her dad, so...yeah, here we are.”

“Oh man, he’s gonna beat my ass on the track today..” Carlos says shaking his head.

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little unsure of what he’s talking about.

“He always gives 110% on the track when Lou is there to support him, I can only imagine what it’ll be like today when you are there too.”

The two of you started catching up talking about what was new in your lives, what wasn't, and so on, until Carlos commented on Charles and Lou's relationship, saying that he really loves spending time with her and that he talks about her nonstop.

“She loves spending time with him too, he is her soulmate I’m sure.” You commented.

“And what about you? Is he your soulmate too?” Carlos asked catching you off guard.

Both you and Charles were close to Carlos and he pretty much knew everything about you and your relationship. He was also very angry with you when you broke up because he thought it was a bad decision and that you should have worked on your relationship and not give up on it so easily.

“I-I..” As you were trying to think of an answer to his question, at that very moment the screen of Charles's phone, which he had left on the table in front of you, lit up.

What caught your attention wasn't the notification he received, but your eyes got stuck on the wallpaper on his lock screen. It was a picture of you and Lou that Charles had taken shortly after you had given birth and came home from the hospital. You were lying on the bed and Lou was lying on your chest while you kissed her head.

It was a picture that was very dear to both you and Charles, and he had it as his wallpaper since the day he took it, and what surprised you the most was that he still had it to this day. Even though you were no longer together, he never changed it.

Carlos noticed what you were staring at and he basically took it as an answer to his question although he had already knew it.

“Uncle Carloss!!” Lou screamed with her mouth full of pizza as Charles carried her in his arms over to the table where Carlos and you were sitting.

“Hola, hermosa! Did you get hungry?” Carlos chuckled squeezing her cheek.

“Out of all the possible foods you can think of, my baby chose pizza.” Charles laughed sitting her down on the chair next to you.

You were completely lost in your thoughts and didn't even pay attention what the three of them were talking about. All you could think about was the picture you saw on Charles's phone and how you were getting closer to confessing your still deeply held feelings for him.

And of course today was just as Carlos said it would be. Not only did Charles beat Carlos’ ass on the track, but he also beat all the other drivers by proudly and deservedly taking P1. He couldn't let the win slip through his fingers in front of the two most important people in his life so he fought extra hard for it today.

When it was time to celebrate, your eyes filled with tears at how proud you were of him. First he celebrated with the team, then his eyes searched for you and Lou.

“You wanna congratulate daddy, baby?” You asked her and she nodded excitedly.

You pushed your way towards Charles with her in your arms and when you reached him he instantly hugged her and kissed her on the forehead.

“Good job, daddy!” She said.

“Thank you, baby. This one was for you.” He told her kissing her once again.

“Congratulations, Charles. We’re really proud of you.” You say softly smiling at him tears threatening to run down your cheeks.

“Thank you, y/n. Thank you for being here.” He said looking deep into your eyes.

The cameras went crazy over your family moment, closely capturing every interaction between you. It won't be until the next day when you see one of the taken photos of the two of you that it will become completely clear to you how your eyes are betraying you and showing how deeply and obviously in love you are with each other.

When the day was coming to an end, you didn't stay in the paddock any longer, but immediately got on the plane and flew to Monaco, all three of you together. Lou was completely exhausted and when you landed she was already asleep. Charles didn't offer but instead insisted on driving you to your apartment no matter how tired he was.

Charles, carefully so as not to wake her, carried her in his arms into her room and put her to bed. He kissed her goodnight before closing the door and going into the living room thinking he would say goodnight to you too.

“She’s sleeping like a log.” Charles chuckles quietly as he stands in front of you.

“Poor thing, she was so tired. She passed out as soon as we sat in the plane.”

“But I'm glad you came. Both of you. It really meant a lot to me to have you there.”

“I’m glad too. We had a lot of fun. Maybe we can come again sometime.” You say making him smile.

“Anytime you want” He says feeling that the conversation is slowly coming to an end. He wants to continue it so bad, but he knows that both of you are tired and with a heavy heart he has to leave, even though he would rather lie in bed with you now and hold you close to him all night.

“Okay, I’m gonna go now. It’s getting really late.” He says running his hand nervously through his hair while you bite the inside of your cheek so desperately wanting him to ask you if he can stay. “See you soon, yeah? Good night”

Before he turns around to head for the door, you decide that enough is enough. There have been so many obvious signs by now that it's not over between you and that you're still madly in love with each other that you don't want to waste another second being stubborn, but rather surrender to the moment and finally enjoy it.

“Or you can stay the night here..you know..i-if you want to” You blurt out stuttering the last part.

He turns slowly towards you. His expression is unreadable until he places his hands on your cheeks and asks you “Do you want me to stay?”

Without much hesitation, you nod your head and quietly say “I do.”

Initially, it was as if you were afraid to approach each other, as if you were afraid of each other's reaction even though both of you were hoping that the desire was mutual. Then his lips slowly and cautiously began coming closer and closer to yours.

At first, your lips just brushed, pulling back a little, and then they connected into a long, passionate and deep kiss that you both had been eagerly waiting for.

You felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders as you let out deep breaths in relief you didn't even know you were holding in.

Things were moving quickly and you didn't waste any time getting to your bedroom. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he picked you up and without breaking the kiss, carried you into the room and laid you down on the bed.

Exhaustion was long forgotten when you took each other's clothes off and started kissing every part of each other’s body.

“I missed you, I missed you so much you don’t even know” He said into the kiss, barely catching his breath from the intense excitement he felt.

“I missed you too, Charles” You half whisper as he pushes into you and one tear rolls down the side of your face.

It felt so good. He felt so good inside you, fit so perfectly like he was made for you. He wanted to make love to you, to show you how much he cares about you so he kept going on and on making your legs shake so many times throughout the night, kissing every inch of your body, pulling you closer to him to calm you down, breathing in your scent and getting lost in your eyes.

“I’m gonna cum, baby” His voice trembled as he rested his forehead against yours and pulled his cock out of you cumming all over your stomach, hands free, then pushing himself back in and wincing.

You fell asleep with him holding you close all night. His arms were hugging you so tightly, as if he was afraid that if he let go even just for a second, he would wake up and it would all be just a dream.

The morning sun's rays didn't let you sleep past eight, so you spontaneously woke up together still in the same position you fell asleep in.

“Good morning ma cherie” He said with a kiss to your lips.

“Morning baby” You smiled caressing his cheek with your thumb. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm, very well” He murmurs against your skin. “And you?”

“Me too. I haven't slept this peacefully in a long time.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yeah” You glance at the clock out of the corner of your eye and see that it's almost time for Lou to wake up. “Oh shit, Charles you need to leave, Lou is about to wake up” You say nervously, which completely confuses Charles.

“What? What do you mean I need to leave? Why can’t she know that I’m here?”

“It's not that she can’t know it’s just that I want us to take it slow this time. I'm afraid of screwing this up because it feels so good and so right and I don't know if I could handle us hurting each other again.” You sigh as you explain your reasons to him. “And most of all, I don't want to break Lou's heart.”

He pauses for a moment to think about what you just said and realizes that it makes sense and that you're right. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry we’ll take things slow to make it right this time.” After all, he just wants to fulfill all your wishes and wants to make you happy with whatever you want. “So when do I get to see you again?” He asks and you laugh at his silly question. “What?” He asks confused.

“It's funny that you ask me that. You can see us whenever you want. It's just for a short time until we see how things develop and then of course we'll live together again.”

“I can’t wait for that.”

Soon he got out of the bed and got dressed. He kissed you barely breaking away from you before heading out of the bedroom. The door to Lou's room was open and so he walked slowly on his tiptoes, not wanting to wake her up.

But he realized that was in vain when, passing by her room, he heard “Daddy?!” He stopped in his tracks, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing quietly under his breath.

She’d already seen him and he couldn't leave now or get out of the situation in any way, so he decided to go into her room and say good morning to her.

“Hey, baby. Good morning”

“What are you doing here?! Did you sleep here?!” She didn't know what to ask him first from how happy she was that it was morning and he was there.

When the two of them appeared at your bedroom door, it was clear to both you and Charles that from that moment on, you were all living together again.

“Hi there” Charles said holding her in his arms and looking at you.

You didn't say anything, you just covered your face with your hands and started laughing before you uncovered the quilt and said "come here, both of you"

@charlesgirl16 @aleatorio1234 @teamnovalak @watermelonslut @diaryofarandomkid @sunny44 @tempo-rary-fix @ggaslyp1 @janeh22 @seonghwaexile @seasonswinter @itgirlofthecenturysposts @ricciardosredbull @amz824 @sarx164 @seonghwaexile @landossainz @little-miss-naill @taygrls @sturmatt @myescapefromthislife @stylesmoonlight12 @st4rgirl-ellie @eloriis @sillyfreakfanparty @rebelliousneferut @kahhorri @hard4ndsoft @weekendlusting

[perdvivly]

Not waiting for chance or fate to dictate the terms of how annoying I’m allowed to be on the internet. I am choosing to answer them all now, unasked as I am.

1) This is mildly variable depending on the amount of effort I’m willing to expend. Typically the common theme is no adulterants. No sugar, no milk, no queen of England. If I’m getting fancy with it I’ll make an effort to time the brewing duration, 3mins for a black tea, 5mins for a green tea, 7mins for a herbal tea. But honestly the sort of depression chic I’ve been serving lately has been leaving the bag in and drinking it straight, tannins be damned.

2) Mandarin. Just seems like it’d be the most useful innit. Also, relatively harder to pick up non-magically given my native Englishhood.

3) God. I try not to honestly. No, but seriously, my sleep schedule has been all sorts of out of shape recently. I should work on that. At the moment it varies wildly day to day and depends on my responsibilities the days before and after the sleep. I’ve pulled a couple of all nighters recently and it gets screwy.

4) Maybe atla? I remember really liking it when it came out but not fully understanding the whole plot because I didn’t see it serialised until later. Maybe the simpsons? There’s something to say here about the earnestness of the earlier seasons and seeing a deeply dysfunctional family care about each other in ways they struggle to express—that gets glossed out as the production value rises in the later seasons—that’s like heroin to someone trapped in an irony poisoned world. But maybe that’s cope? Maybe it’s just the show I had the easiest access to as a kid. I guess I didn’t watch a whole bunch of tv or at least not a whole bunch that stuck with me.

5) Summer ez. (Have you seen her baphomet pics? 🥵)

6) In general, I doubt very much that either the optimist or the pessimist considers themselves such. It’s not really the sort of thing that admits of self-diagnosis in that way… Philosophically, the broader question is what? Do I align with Schopenhauer, Voltaire’s Leibniz, or Russel’s Leibniz? I’m not sure the tumblrinas care about the history of philosophy. I guess I’ll say to the extent that Schopenhauer relies on Indian mysticism, which I think is typically underrated, he’s simply mistaken about the world as will and representation. I’ll say that, I’m *not* a Buddhist. I think the doctrine of dukkha misses fundamental aspects of human existence. I’ll say that people have richer inner lives, deeper felt internal experiences, than you might assume from reading their little words on the internet. And that, on the whole, these are good things.

7) I mean, both ideally. Variety is the spice of life. If I had to choose I suppose it would be sunshine. But I’m terribly glad I don’t live in a world where I have to choose.

8) I have the cutest little book marks. My primary two at the moment are the sun and the moon, which I use for main text and end notes respectively. Though, I have been known to dog-ear in my time. I once got yelled at by my aunt for turning the corner of the page on my copy of Harry Potter and the order of the phoenix because it was a first edition and she was under the impression that it may be valuable some day. I was like, come on man, I’m 7. Don’t even piss. <- I didn’t say these things, but I was *like* that.

9) For the longest time I *only* wore steel toe capped boots because I ran myself over with an electric pallet stacker and tore my toenail off and decided I didn’t want that to happen again. I don’t do that anymore because I interact with heavy machinery less than I used to. Now all that matters to me is that they’re waterproof.

10) *My* signature scent like, I produce it? Or like I like it? I guess one of my favourite scents is lavender. But I've been told... Okay, it's important you guys know I do *not* have a yeast infection... I've been told some parts of my body naturally smell like bread, like, that sort of doughy yeasty (I s2g I do *not* (I did not hit her. I did not! oh hi mark)) smell that you get with bread sometimes. Is that what the question was asking?

11) I mean... That's broadly not for me to decide right? Unless the sort of dragons you're imagining have some sort of glamoury illusion magic, which seems plausible. Anyway, do you guys remember in Moby Dick when he goes on this wild tangent about how St. George and The Dragon was acutally about whales? And St. George's horse was actually a walrus or something. What was that about??

Okay, author's note, there's a time skip here. I've been scrolling through lists of dragons in popular culture for a while now and there are a pretty neat and widely varied selection of designs. I'll get back to you on this one.

12) It depends on why I'm writing! If it's a quick note to myself for future reference it'll generally be cursive, if it's an important document that will be read by other people generally it'll be print. If it's time-sensitive it'll be cursive. I remember writing essays for undergrad that I'm sure were totally illegible by the end of them, I think literally just a line on a page with occasional lifts and dips.

13) There is more information on wookieepedia than existed in my philosophy but a few minutes ago. The typology I've discerned is thus: blue - jock, green - nerd, yellow - geek, red - edgelord. And I'm a little bit of all of these, so I think any would be fine. Realistically though, I'm not sure a lightsaber is the best weapon in fantasy space-past-future where spaceships and lasers are common. Like, I'll let it slide because the original trilogy was doing a kirkegaardian faith thing and the prequels were doing a logic doesn't matter it's cool thing, and those are both respectable motivations to leave logistics aside for a bit.

14) Sad

15) Ice skates! I love ice skating!

16) I'm a youngest. I have an older sister, I think I talk about her here from time to time.

17) Well, how I would use it would depend massively on what it was. If the question is which superpower I think is the best then why not ask that? Which superpower would I have has a faint ring of incomprehensibility about it. It's really not clear which counterfactual is under consideration. *If* what?

Anyway, I think time control powers are up there right? Top five at least, easy. Imagine what you could do if you could stop time and sleep whenever you felt like it. I feel King Leerish about the ability to just be well rested. I would do such things, what they are yet I know not.

18) The problem with romantic relationships is that eventually, all of your most interesting clothing will end up in someone else's closet. I think my day-to-day wear tends to be mostly blues, blacks and whites. Not hugely interesting colourwise.

19) Snake, I think, they have fewer demands and I can't really handle any more pressure in my life than I already have. I would hate to be a bad bird mom... I would hate to be a bad snake mom too, but I think it's easier. Typically regarded as easier. I don't know.

20) Okay, so, it's like this right: medieval battle = will probably die. And it's also like this: behind city walls = safe, my friend and lover and confidant. And so, for very obvious reasons, it's gotta be a bow right? Like, I'm standing way out of the action and I'll shoot some arrows long range. But if that's against the spirit of the ask then it's gotta be some kind of polearm, like a halberd or something. Not even close. The advantage you get from distance is hard to overstate. Yeah, polearm for sure.

21) Mint choc chip, it's just such a classic. But also, I had a "london fog" flavour recently that was really compelling. It's just earl grey and vanilla but it's so good.

22) I'm more of a herbs person than a spices person. Like, hmm, I do really enjoy paprika and ginger and stuff like that, don't get me wrong. But it doesn't really hold a candle to the sheer universality of parsley or basil or oregano or mint. Herbs stay winning.

23) These days it's aptos because I am the worlds most basic bitch. And yes, I do still have a fondness for arial.

ask game that tells a lot about you.

how do you take your tea / coffee?

if you could be fluent in any language at the snap of your fingers, which one and why?

when do you wake up?

what was your favourite tv show as a kid?

summer or winter?

realist, optimist, or pessimist?

rain or sunshine?

how do you mark your spot in a book?

what are your favourite shoes like?

what would your non-perfume/cologne signature scent be?

if you were a dragon, what would you look like?

is your handwriting more print, cursive, or a mix?

what colour would your lightsaber be?

what is your defining personality trait?

roller skates or rollerblades or ice skates?

are you an only child? oldest / middle / youngest?

what would your superpower be? how would you use it?

what’s your clothing colour palette?

pet snake or pet bird?

weapon of choice in a medieval battle

the best ice cream flavour

what spices do you always use when cooking?

default font when typing?

[satellite-evans]

The Artist

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: sometimes, an artist is far more interesting than the art itself.

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: fluff, angst? Anthony not being able to mind his own business, briefly mention of parents passing away

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Lady Danbury’s soirées were the heart of the social season—part chessboard, part battlefield, where every glance and whisper held strategic importance. Benedict Bridgerton, however, approached such gatherings as an observer rather than a player. He found the art on the walls more captivating than the posturing of the ton.

Wandering through Lady Danbury’s grand halls, Benedict stopped before a painting of a turbulent sea, his thoughts briefly drifting to his own half-finished sketches. A voice interrupted him, sharp and vibrant.

“It’s ambitious, but overworked. The sea churns, but the emotion feels... manufactured.”

He turned to see her: a young woman standing a few steps away, her posture poised yet unguarded. She wore her beauty with an effortless confidence, her eyes a vivid storm of intellect and intrigue. She wasn’t like the other women at the ball, fluttering fans and batting lashes. She observed the world with precision, as though she’d already decided it was hers to command.

“An intriguing critique,” Benedict replied, his interest piqued. “Though perhaps the chaos was intentional. Sometimes life demands a lack of restraint.”

Her gaze flicked to him, assessing. “Chaos is compelling, but it must be tempered with truth. This, Mr. Bridgerton, is a performance.”

“You know my name,” he noted, smiling. “You have the advantage over me, Miss...?”

“Y/N,” she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “And I find that knowing one’s audience is the first rule of any conversation.”

He inclined his head. “A lesson I’ll remember. Tell me, Miss Y/N, are you always this direct?”

Her lips curved into a subtle smile, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she turned back to the painting. “Do you sketch? You look at this piece as though you’re searching for something beyond the surface.”

Benedict blinked, surprised by her insight. “I do, though I’ve yet to create anything worth showing. You?”

“I paint,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But my work isn’t for the ton’s galleries. Some things are too personal to display.”

“Now you’ve made me curious,” he said, stepping closer. “What would it take to see one of your pieces?”

She tilted her head, her gaze teasing. “Persistence. But I should warn you—I am not easily impressed.”

Benedict smiled, already intrigued by the challenge. “Good. I prefer earning my victories.”

Before she could respond, Lady Danbury’s voice carried through the hall. “Ah, Benedict, I see you’ve met Miss Y/N. And what do you think of her opinions? Sharp as a rapier, aren’t they?”

Benedict glanced at Y/N, his expression warm. “Quite sharp, indeed. But rapier wit is vastly preferable to dull pleasantries.”

Lady Danbury chuckled. “I agree. Well, don’t let me interrupt. Though, Y/N, your brother Charles is looking for you. Something about the carriage.”

At the mention of her brother, Y/N’s composure shifted slightly. “Thank you, Lady Danbury. I’ll find him shortly.”

As Lady Danbury swept away, Benedict offered Y/N a small bow. “Will you grant me the honor of a dance before you leave?”

“Perhaps,” she replied, her eyes glinting with amusement. “If you’re persistent enough.”

Before Benedict could craft a suitably clever reply, a deep voice broke through the moment. “Y/N, it’s getting late.”

Both turned to see a tall man striding toward them, his posture commanding yet measured. He was dressed impeccably, the weight of responsibility apparent in his expression. His resemblance to Y/N—sharp features and the same striking eyes—was unmistakable.

Charles stopped beside them and inclined his head politely toward Benedict before addressing his sister. “The hour grows late, and I believe Lady Danbury is beginning to hint that the soirée is winding down.”

Y/N offered her brother a cool yet affectionate look. “You always did have an impeccable sense of timing, Charles.”

Benedict, recovering quickly, stepped forward with a polite bow. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Benedict Bridgerton.”

Charles’s gaze sharpened slightly at the name before he returned the bow with measured precision. “Charles Y/L/N, Earl of Whitestone.”

Benedict’s eyebrows lifted in recognition, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Whitestone? I believe my brother, Anthony, has spoken of you. He mentioned you were recently elevated to the title.”

Charles gave a brief nod, his tone guarded but civil. “Anthony and I have known each other for some years. He’s a good man, and an excellent Viscount.”

“As I’m certain you’re an excellent Earl,” Benedict replied smoothly, sensing the protective edge to Charles’s demeanor.

The corner of Charles’s mouth twitched upward, though he remained composed. “I do what I can, though the title comes with its share of burdens. And you, Mr. Bridgerton, seem to have a knack for engaging my sister in conversation.”

Benedict chuckled lightly, inclining his head toward Y/N. “Your sister is an extraordinary conversationalist, my lord. I find myself quite fortunate to have made her acquaintance tonight.”

Charles’s gaze flicked to Y/N, who appeared unruffled by the exchange but wore a faint smile of amusement. “Fortunate, indeed,” Charles said evenly. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I believe it’s time to depart. Y/N?”

Y/N turned back to Benedict, her expression unreadable but her tone cordial. “Thank you for the discussion, Mr. Bridgerton. Perhaps we’ll meet again, should the occasion allow.”

Benedict bowed, his tone warm. “I certainly hope so, Miss Y/N.”

As Charles and Y/N walked toward their waiting carriage, Benedict watched them leave, his thoughts lingering on the sharp wit and quiet allure of Y/N.

Charles, walking slightly ahead of his sister, cast a glance back toward Benedict, then murmured to her, “He seems taken with you.”

Y/N’s lips curved faintly as she replied, “Let him be. I’m hardly an easy conquest.”

Charles smirked faintly, his tone fond but serious. “Good. Just remember, Y/N, you’re worth far more than simple flattery and fleeting interest.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze forward but her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

The clatter of carriage wheels echoed faintly as Charles and Y/N made their way back to their townhouse. The dim glow of gas lamps illuminated the streets, casting fleeting shadows across Charles’s pensive expression.

“You like him,” Charles remarked, breaking the companionable silence. His voice was even, but his words were laced with a quiet observation.

Y/N glanced at her brother, her expression unreadable. “He’s intriguing. Sharp-witted. But liking someone, Charles, is a luxury I can ill afford.”

Charles leaned back in his seat, watching her carefully. “Luxury or not, you seemed more yourself tonight than I’ve seen in months. There’s no harm in entertaining the idea—provided you remain cautious.”

Y/N’s gaze softened at her brother’s concern. “I appreciate your vigilance, my dear Earl of Whitestone. But let’s not rush to paint him as either hero or villain. Men of his world are not often held to the same scrutiny as women of ours.”

“True,” Charles admitted, tilting his head slightly. “But Anthony Bridgerton isn’t one to speak highly of a man without reason. If his brother is half as principled, I’d consider him worth the risk.”

Y/N’s lips twitched at his words. “Risk, indeed. But enough about Mr. Bridgerton. We’ve our own affairs to manage, and I’m certain our tenants won’t care for my musings about art or charm.”

Charles nodded, though he noted the faint pink flush that crept up her neck as she turned toward the window.

As the Whitestone carriage disappeared into the darkness, Benedict stood at the edge of the Danbury estate, his gaze lingering on the path where Y/N had vanished. The warmth of the evening had cooled, but he hardly noticed the chill. His mind replayed their conversation—the sharp wit in her words, the spark in her eyes when she spoke of art, and the measured grace with which she had danced around his charm.

“Y/N,” he murmured softly, as if testing the sound of her name. It felt as striking as the woman herself, an enigma he couldn’t easily solve.

Lady Danbury’s sharp voice startled him from his reverie. “Well, Mr. Bridgerton, if you plan to stand out there all night, you might as well help me escort the remaining stragglers to their carriages.”

Benedict turned, an easy smile masking his contemplative mood. “I was merely enjoying the view, Lady Danbury. Your soiree is, as always, a triumph.”

Her keen eyes narrowed with amusement. “And yet your gaze was fixed on the road, not my ballroom. That young lady certainly left an impression.”

Benedict didn’t deny it. “She’s remarkable,” he admitted, more to himself than to Lady Danbury.

“Be careful with that one,” the older woman warned, though her tone was fond. “She has depth. And depth demands substance in return.”

Benedict inclined his head, her words sinking in. As much as he relished the challenge, he realized he wanted more than a fleeting encounter.

The ride home was a quiet one. Benedict sat in the carriage, the sounds of horses’ hooves a steady rhythm that gave his thoughts space to wander.

He’d encountered many women in his time—clever debutantes, bold widows, and those who wore charm like armor. But Y/N was different. There was a quiet power in her deflections, a vulnerability hidden behind her sharp observations.

His mind lingered on her smile, fleeting yet warm, and the way her brother, Charles, had watched over her like a hawk. Benedict respected that protectiveness—it spoke of loyalty, of family bonds he deeply valued.

When he finally reached the familiar halls of his family home, the house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of old wood and the soft rustle of wind through the trees outside. He retired to his room, but sleep eluded him.

Instead, he sketched—rough outlines of Y/N’s features, her poised stance, the energy in her eyes as she critiqued the painting at Lady Danbury’s. Each stroke of charcoal carried with it an urgency, an attempt to capture the essence of someone who refused to be defined.

By the time dawn’s light began to filter through his window, Benedict set the sketch aside, his resolve clear.

“I’ll see her again,” he murmured, more determined than he’d been in years.

The following morning, the Bridgerton family gathered around the long dining table, sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Despite the sumptuous spread of fruit, fresh-baked pastries, and piping hot tea, all eyes were on Benedict.

“Who was she?” Eloise asked bluntly, buttering her toast with unnecessary vigor. “Lady Whistledown was positively tantalized.”

Benedict sighed, taking a deliberate sip of tea. “Good morning to you too, Eloise.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” Daphne chimed in with a knowing smile. “It’s not every day Lady Whistledown dedicates an entire paragraph to your exploits.”

Anthony leaned back in his chair, an eyebrow raised. “Y/N Y/L/N, wasn’t it? I believe her brother, Charles, is the new Earl of Whitestone. Solid reputation, though he keeps to himself since inheriting the title.”

Benedict nodded, setting down his cup. “The very same. I had the pleasure of speaking with her—she’s sharp, insightful, and refreshingly candid.”

“And beautiful?” Colin teased, his grin wide.

“Extremely,” Benedict replied without hesitation, earning a round of laughter.

Anthony’s amusement faded slightly as he regarded his brother with a calculating look. “Charles is an old acquaintance of mine. We crossed paths during the early years of our titles. A good man, but fiercely protective of his family. Tread carefully, Benedict.”

“Always,” Benedict said, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of determination.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the grass of Whitestone’s modest garden, a sketchpad balanced on her lap. The cool breeze carried with it the faint scent of lavender from the nearby hedgerows, mingling with the crisp aroma of her graphite pencils. The gardens were her sanctuary—a reprieve from society’s endless noise and expectations. Today, her focus was on a half-finished drawing of a willow tree bending gracefully over the garden pond. Yet, as much as she tried to focus, her thoughts drifted back to Benedict Bridgerton.

She had replayed their exchanges from Lady Danbury’s soiree countless times in her mind. His words had been genuine, his curiosity sincere. Yet it was his gaze that lingered in her memory—the way his eyes softened when he listened to her critiques of the art, as though he truly saw her and not just another face in the crowd. Y/N frowned slightly, annoyed at her own vulnerability. He’s intriguing, certainly, but so are countless men who wander into my path. Why should this one matter more?

Her pencil faltered as the sharp rap of a knock echoed from the front of the house. She stilled, curiosity piqued. Guests were rare at Whitestone, and Charles had already mentioned he expected no visitors today. She heard the muffled creak of the door opening and the low rumble of her brother’s voice, but the words were indistinct. Setting her sketchpad aside, Y/N rose and dusted her hands off on her skirts, wandering closer to the house with light steps.

Inside the parlor, Charles extended a firm handshake to Anthony Bridgerton. The Earl of Whitestone and the Viscount Bridgerton cut striking figures in the modest room, both exuding a commanding presence, though Anthony’s was tempered by a composed air of diplomacy.

“Viscount Bridgerton,” Charles greeted, stepping back to motion him inside. “This is an unexpected visit.”

“I thought it past time we caught up,” Anthony replied with a faint smile, his eyes sweeping the room briefly before settling back on Charles. “Though I must confess, my errand isn’t entirely social.”

Charles raised an eyebrow as he led Anthony toward the parlor’s armchairs. “I assume this has something to do with your family’s estates bordering mine?”

“In part.” Anthony seated himself with practiced ease, but there was a guardedness to his tone that Charles didn’t miss. “The other part involves my brother, Benedict.”

Charles stilled briefly, his expression giving nothing away. “Ah, your brother,” he said smoothly, taking his own seat. “I must admit, he did make an impression at Lady Danbury’s soiree.”

Anthony’s lips quirked in a wry smile. “So I’ve heard. I trust my brother behaved himself?”

Charles smirked faintly, folding his hands over his knee. “Mr. Bridgerton was... eager to engage my sister in conversation. Though I’m not sure she was as willing to reciprocate.”

Anthony chuckled, but his tone shifted, his words laced with sincerity. “Benedict speaks highly of your sister. It’s rare for him to show such genuine interest, Charles. He’s not one to court frivolities.”

Charles leaned back, his gaze sharpening. “You understand, Anthony, that Y/N has had her fair share of shallow suitors. She’s cautious, and rightly so. My priority is ensuring her happiness and protecting her from anyone who sees her as a fleeting amusement.”

“Benedict doesn’t play such games,” Anthony replied, meeting Charles’s gaze head-on. “In truth, I’ve never seen him take such an interest in anyone. Your sister seems to have stirred something in him—though, knowing Y/N from your stories, I suspect she hasn’t made it easy for him.”

Charles allowed himself a faint chuckle. “No, she certainly hasn’t. Y/N is not one to be charmed easily. But it’s clear your brother is determined, which could either work in his favor or cause him considerable frustration.”

Anthony inclined his head, his expression softening. “Benedict values substance, as I’m sure Y/N does. They may both surprise you.”

Charles studied him in silence for a moment before offering a measured nod. “We’ll see. For now, I’ll judge him by his actions, not his words.”

Y/N lingered just beyond the doorway, her heart racing at the snippets of conversation she managed to overhear. Charles’s voice, steady and firm, carried faintly through the air. He’s defending me, she realized, a pang of gratitude swelling in her chest. Her brother’s protectiveness had always been her shield against the pressures of society. Yet, there was another voice—smooth and commanding.

The Viscount Bridgerton.

She had never met Anthony before, but his reputation preceded him. To hear him speak so highly of his brother was... surprising. Benedict’s charm had seemed effortless, but perhaps it ran deeper than she had assumed.

Careful not to draw attention, Y/N eased closer to the edge of the doorway, curiosity getting the better of her.

Anthony’s final remark, “They may both surprise you,” was met with a soft clearing of a throat. Both men turned to see Y/N stepping into the room, her expression poised but her gaze quietly assessing.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” she said with a faint smile, addressing Anthony. “You must be Viscount Bridgerton. I apologize for not greeting you sooner.”

Anthony rose immediately, his movements fluid and respectful. “Miss Y/N,” he greeted, his tone warm. “The pleasure is mine. I was just remarking to your brother on your keen sense of discernment. It seems Benedict wasn’t exaggerating.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her smile deepening. “He spoke of me?”

Anthony’s smile mirrored hers, though he chose his words carefully. “Indeed. Rarely have I seen my brother so animated in recounting a conversation.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to Charles, whose stern expression had softened, before settling back on Anthony. “That’s high praise coming from you, my lord,” she said lightly, though her eyes gleamed with amusement. “Perhaps I should be flattered—or cautious.”

Anthony chuckled, gesturing toward the chair opposite. “Flattery or caution—either is warranted. But if I may, Miss Y/N, Benedict is many things, but insincere is not one of them.”

Y/N seated herself gracefully, her expression thoughtful. “Then it would seem your brother and I have much in common,” she replied smoothly, though her mind raced. What exactly has Benedict told him?

As Anthony and Y/N exchanged polite conversation, Charles observed his sister closely. Her tone was cordial, her posture poised, but he knew her well enough to detect the subtle sharpness in her gaze—a warning to anyone attempting to pry too deeply. She wasn’t rattled by Anthony’s words, but she was undoubtedly calculating her next move.

Anthony, for his part, seemed at ease. His diplomacy was well-honed, his remarks layered with subtle reassurances. Yet Charles couldn’t help but feel the quiet tension in the room. Anthony was here not simply to visit a friend, but to ensure Benedict’s intentions were made clear—or perhaps to defend them.

“I find it intriguing,” Y/N said, interrupting Charles’s thoughts, “that you’ve taken the trouble to visit us, my lord, when your brother has already made his interest known. Surely, you trust his judgment?”

Anthony’s brow arched slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I do, Miss Y/N, though it would be remiss of me not to learn more about the woman who has managed to hold my brother’s attention.”

“And have you drawn your conclusions already?” she asked, tilting her head.

Anthony leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady but not intrusive. “Not entirely. But I do know this: my brother is a man of passions—art, creation, and the search for something meaningful. He finds those qualities rare. I suspect he believes he’s found them in you.”

Y/N’s composure didn’t falter, though her chest tightened slightly at his words. Her response was deliberate, each word measured. “An interesting theory, my lord. I wonder what he might say if he were here to speak for himself.”

As the conversation unfolded at Whitestone, Benedict Bridgerton was oblivious to his brother’s bold intervention. He sat alone in the Bridgerton family’s drawing room, a half-finished sketch resting on the desk before him. It was an abstract piece—a hazy rendition of the way the light had played across Y/N’s face as she’d described the painting at Lady Danbury’s soiree.

Frustrated, he set the pencil down and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t seen her since the garden farewell days ago, and the memory of her enigmatic smile lingered like a half-finished melody. Every word she had spoken felt deliberate, each glance calculated. Yet, for all her guardedness, he had glimpsed something more—an intensity that matched his own.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the sketch with a mix of irritation and admiration. What is it about her that has me so utterly undone?

The door creaked open, and Colin poked his head inside, his ever-mischievous grin firmly in place. “Still brooding over Lady Y/N?”

Benedict scowled, though there was no real malice behind it. “I’m not brooding.”

Colin stepped inside, uninvited, and plucked the sketch off the desk. “Is that so? Because this,” he said, waving the paper, “tells a rather different story. Don’t tell me you’re losing sleep over one of Anthony’s sermons.”

Benedict frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Colin flopped onto the settee, clearly enjoying himself. “Anthony’s gone to Whitestone, hasn’t he? To visit Y/N and her brother. He practically ordered Newton to saddle the horse this morning.”

Benedict shot to his feet, his voice incredulous. “Anthony went to Whitestone?”

Colin’s smile widened. “Oh, yes. Didn’t he tell you? I’d wager he’s there now, making some long-winded speech about Bridgerton honor and the seriousness of your intentions.”

Benedict’s fists clenched, though it was more out of frustration than anger. “Of course he would meddle,” he muttered, pacing the room. “I don’t need him playing matchmaker.”

“Perhaps not,” Colin replied, his tone light. ���But I suspect you’ll thank him in the end. Anthony may be insufferable, but he has a way of clearing obstacles—even those you’re too stubborn to see.”

Benedict ignored him, walking around in the room furiously waiting for his brother to come home. He did not need Anthony meddling with his business when even he didn't have the chance to visit you or buy you flowers. He prayed that his brother didn't scare or intimidate Y/N in any shape or form.

Back at Whitestone, Y/N’s mind churned as Anthony’s words settled. The sincerity behind them was disarming, but it also raised questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

She glanced at Charles, who was watching the exchange with his usual stoicism. Her brother was protective, and she valued his judgment, but she also resented feeling like a piece on a chessboard. Why should my life’s direction hinge on the machinations of two Bridgertons?

Y/N straightened, her voice breaking the charged silence. “You speak highly of your brother, my lord. But I can’t help but wonder if his interest is shared equally by the rest of your family. Surely a marriage, that you keep mentioning I might add, between a Bridgerton and an earl’s sister comes with certain expectations.”

Anthony’s expression didn’t falter, though his gaze turned contemplative. “You’re right, Miss Y/N. Family expectations can be... formidable. But we Bridgertons tend to weigh them against the matters of the heart. My brother is pursuing you not for duty, but for something far greater. That is why I came—to assure you that his pursuit is no fleeting fancy.”

Her breath caught for the briefest moment before she composed herself. “And yet you speak for him instead of letting him speak for himself. Tell me, viscount Bridgerton, is it a tradition of your family that the elder brother visit first before the man himself came here to court me or are you just more excited than Benedict?"

Anthony’s smile turned faintly amused. “Perhaps. But as the head of the family, it is not a tradition, but my duty to do so."

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the Bridgerton drawing room, where Violet sipped her tea, listening to Eloise debate some pamphlet on societal reform. Colin, seated nearby, was making a show of writing letters while sneakily trying to eavesdrop.

Suddenly, the front door opened with a sharp creak, followed by the heavy sound of deliberate footfalls. The atmosphere in the house shifted.

“Anthony,” Violet remarked, looking up from her teacup as her eldest son entered. His expression was stony, his movements clipped.

“Anthony, you look—”

Anthony!" Benedict’s voice roared through the house, heavy with fury.

"Benedict," Anthony greeted cautiously, straightening. "What’s the meaning of this outburst?"

"The meaning?" Benedict spat, his voice echoing through the room. "You went to the Whitestone estate without even telling me. You had no right!"

Violet, startled by the commotion, stood. "What’s going on here?"

"Ask your eldest son," Benedict said bitterly. "Apparently, he’s taken it upon himself to play matchmaker or, worse, guardian of my personal affairs."

Anthony’s jaw tightened, though he remained outwardly calm. "Benedict, I was only acting in your best—"

"No!" Benedict interrupted, his voice rising. "You were acting in your best interest, Anthony. Or, at the very least, what you think is best. You didn’t consult me, didn’t even think to ask what I wanted!"

By now, the household was gathering in the hallway, drawn by the shouting. Eloise whispered to Colin, "This is far better than the last novel I read."

Anthony’s patience began to fray as he stood taller, his tone hardening. "I went because I thought you might care for her, Benedict! And if you do, it’s only natural to ensure the family is suitable."

"How dare you presume to know what I care for!" Benedict snapped. "And what of her? Did you think she’d appreciate you barging in, uninvited, to assess her worth like livestock? I don’t even know if I care for her, but now I may never have the chance to decide for myself because of you!"

Anthony’s face fell briefly into guilt before he rallied. "I wasn’t trying to ruin anything. I was trying to protect you—"

"Protect me from what, Anthony? From a young woman with a talent for art and a brother navigating his new title? Or perhaps from the whispers you always seem so terrified of?"

"You don’t understand," Anthony said sharply. "These things matter. Reputation matters. If you pursue her—"

"Stop!" Benedict’s voice was loud enough to make the rest of the family wince. "You don’t get to make this about reputation or family honor. You didn’t even think to come to me first, and for that alone, you’ve overstepped!"

Violet interjected, her voice firm. "Both of you, enough. This shouting is unbecoming."

"Unbecoming?" Benedict scoffed, his anger undiminished. "What’s truly unbecoming is my brother meddling in affairs that are none of his business!"

Anthony took a deep breath, his voice dropping but still heated. "I went because I thought it was for the best, Benedict. If I was wrong, then I apologize. But don’t act as if I’ve committed some great crime for trying to protect my family."

Benedict shook his head, his jaw tightening. "If you wanted to protect me, Anthony, you should have come to me first. You should have trusted me to handle my own life."

Without waiting for a response, Benedict turned and stormed out of the room, the sound of the door slamming behind him reverberating through the house.

Benedict rode hard, the crisp autumn air stinging his face as he left Mayfair behind. The rhythmic pounding of his horse's hooves against the packed dirt offered little solace, the anger from his fight with Anthony still churning in his chest. The thought of his brother making decisions about his life—his relationships—without so much as a conversation left him fuming.

The horse slowed as they approached Hyde Park. Benedict hadn’t meant to end up here, but the vastness of the greenery and the relative quiet of the park seemed preferable to the confinement of Bridgerton House. He dismounted near a cluster of trees, tying his horse to a low branch.

Wandering through the park, Benedict eventually spotted a familiar figure seated beneath a sprawling oak tree. Y/N sat cross-legged on the grass, a sketchbook balanced on her knee, her brow furrowed in concentration as her hand moved deftly across the page. She was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice his approach.

For a moment, Benedict simply observed her. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on her face. There was a peacefulness about her that pulled at something deep within him, a stark contrast to the chaos of the morning.

He cleared his throat softly.

Y/N jumped, her pencil jerking across the page. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide before recognition dawned. “Mr. Bridgerton!” she exclaimed, a hand flying to her chest. “You startled me.”

“I apologize,” Benedict said quickly, stepping closer. “Startling you was not my intention. I... Well, I didn’t expect to find anyone here, let alone you.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, though there was a trace of humor in her gaze. “Hyde Park isn’t precisely secluded, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Touché,” Benedict conceded with a small smile. “Still, I seem to have a habit of interrupting you.” He gestured to the sketchbook in her lap. “May I?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers tightening around the edges of the paper. Then, with a resigned sigh, she handed it over. “It’s not finished,” she said quickly.

Benedict took the sketchbook, his eyes scanning the page. It was a study of a fountain in the park, the water captured mid-flow, the surrounding trees sketched with delicate precision. “This is remarkable,” he said sincerely. “The way you’ve captured the movement of the water—it feels alive.”

Y/N flushed at the compliment, though she tried to mask it with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s nothing special. Just practice.”

“Your modesty does you no justice,” Benedict said, handing the sketchbook back to her. “This is more than practice. It’s art.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile, but she said nothing, her eyes dropping to the sketch.

They sat in silence for a moment before Benedict spoke again. “I owe you an apology, Miss Y/N.”

“For startling me?” she teased, though her tone was light.

“For that and...for my brother’s intrusion at your home earlier today,” he said, his voice more serious now.

Y/N looked up sharply, her expression unreadable. “You knew?”

“I only found out after the fact,” Benedict admitted, frustration seeping into his tone. “Believe me, if I had known what Anthony was planning, I would have stopped him.”

Y/N studied him for a moment, then nodded. “I won’t pretend it wasn’t unsettling to have the Viscount Bridgerton show up unannounced, but your brother was respectful.”

“That doesn’t excuse him,” Benedict said firmly. “He had no right to involve himself. Whatever this is,” he gestured between them, “it’s our business, not his.”

A flicker of something passed through Y/N’s eyes—surprise, perhaps, or even approval—but it was gone before Benedict could decipher it.

“Your brother’s actions are understandable, though,” she said finally. “Family often feels entitled to protect us, even when we don’t need their protection.”

“‘Entitled’ is the word,” Benedict muttered, raking a hand through his hair.

Y/N tilted her head, a trace of amusement creeping into her expression. “You sound angry.”

“I am angry,” Benedict admitted, though his voice softened as he continued. “Not just because Anthony went behind my back, but because I... I don’t want anyone to think I need someone else to make my decisions for me. Least of all you.”

Her brows lifted at his candor, and a small smile played on her lips. “I think I can decide what to think of you, Mr. Bridgerton, regardless of your brother’s interference.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink around them. There was an openness in Y/N’s gaze that felt like an invitation, though to what, Benedict wasn’t entirely sure.

“May I sit?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N gestured to the patch of grass beside her. “Be my guest.”

Benedict settled himself beside her, leaning back against the tree trunk. The tension that had coiled in his chest all day seemed to ease in her presence.

“Do you often come here to draw?” he asked after a moment.

“Whenever I can,” Y/N said, glancing at the fountain in the distance. “It’s one of the few places in London that feels...free.”

“I can see the appeal,” Benedict said. “There’s a tranquility here. A sense of space.”

“And yet you seem restless,” Y/N observed, her eyes studying him intently.

Benedict chuckled, though there was little humor in it. “I suppose I am. My family has a way of...complicating things.”

“Families tend to do that,” Y/N said lightly.

He turned to look at her, a question forming on his lips, but he hesitated. “Do you...” he began, then stopped.

“Do I what?” she prompted.

“Do you find it hard?” he asked finally. “Being the person others look to? Shouldering the weight of their expectations?”

Y/N’s gaze grew distant, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her sketchbook. “I think we all bear expectations, whether we like it or not. The trick is deciding which ones matter and which ones don’t.”

Benedict nodded, her words striking a chord. “And have you decided?”

Her lips curved into a small, enigmatic smile. “I’m still working on it.”

They fell into a companionable silence, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the faint splash of the fountain. For the first time that day, Benedict felt a sense of calm.

Perhaps, he thought, this wasn’t such a terrible day after all.

( part 2 anyone?)

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Astray far Away Ch4

Adar x reader | SMUT🔞 | Ch.3

Sexy bath times and rowdy kids! An eventful day for our Lord Father and his companion.

AKA the chapter took on a will of its own and accepted a sidequest or two instead of moving on.

Morning came way too quick.

And so did the frantic knocking on your door that had you groaning in frustration. 

“Just come in, I’m decent.” 

It was Grasho, shouldering her way through the door with two bowls of food and a stack of clothes hung over her shoulder. 

“Morning! Got food and simple dresses.” She was quick to place the food on a table and toss the clothes onto the bed where you sat. 

“Food or cloth first?” The question was asked but waiting for an answer was not in the cards as Grasho already reached for the new garments she brought.

“Please, food first. I need a second to wake up before I get up and be active.” You mimicked her energy, making grabby hands at the bowls from where you sat on the mattress. “I am seriously starving, thanks.” With the bowl in your hands you happily ate in silence, chowing down the broth even faster than Grasho finished hers. 

“Woah. You eat good for a mortal!” With a satisfied noise she put her empty bowl away and was up on her feet. “Now we fit! Got lots to do today.” Grasho rubbed her hands together so she wouldn’t be immediately grabbing at your clothes again. Boundaries. She learned. 

You worked through the pile dhe brought easily, no longer feeling that nagging panic with having to undress in front of her. She paid your bare chest no attention and kindly turned away when you changed your trousers for proper undergarments. 

All the items Grasho brought you fit perfectly and soon enough she almost shoved you out the door with the order to go find Adar. “You go see Lord Father. Still need a bath. And wound checks.”

You barely got a chance to grab Adar’s tunic before you were out the door and on your way to his tent, wishing Grasho a good day as she went back to her workshop.

Finding Adar’s tent was easy enough and luckily you found him as well.

“Adar? Do you have time?” You approached him with care and kept a safe distance so as to not intrude.

“I hear you almost fought last night. Krod defended you after you spoke kindly of the uruk.” He leaned back in his chair and watched you. 

“I’m sorry if I caused any disturbance, I tried my hardest to ignore them but..” The event was still clear in your mind and gnawing at you. With a quiet sniffle you looked at the ground. “The names they called me. The things they implied I did, I snapped. I’m sorry..” You were clutching the black tunic to your chest as you tried your hardest not to cry like a weakling in front of your leader. 

“From what I heard they called you a harlot, yes? Implying you spent time with Glûg’s family for pleasure.” He looked you over once, twice. You wore new garments like he suggested. The tunic he gave you wrapped tightly in your arms.

“You are always allowed to cause a scene. My children see you as an equal. A part of the family.” Adar had gotten up and grabbed his sword and dagger, along with a bag he stuffed with supplies. “You came by to ask about that bath, yes?”

You let Adar lead the way through and out of the town, further towards the mountain and into a tree-littered area. It was all just as gray and ashen as your village, burned trees and all. And, steam? Fog?

Then, it all came into view behind the trees. Adar had taken you to a hot spring. 

“Mortals prefer privacy when bathing. I did not get that wrong, did I?” Near the rocks beside the spring Adar placed down his bag and unpacked the supplies he brought. He gave you time and space to do what you needed, not looking as you undressed and only turning back once you cleared him to do so. 

“You can look, it’s okay.” Your gentle voice had him turn to face the water and sit down at the edge of it, taking off his boots and rolling up the legs of his trousers. 

As his legs lowered into the water Adar let out a groan, the heat of the water relieving some of his aches. 

“You’re welcome to join me fully, if you’d like. I don't mind.” You moved closer to him, raising yourself partially out of the water and fidgeted with the bandages to get them off now that they had soaked for a moment.

“Let me assist you with that.” Adar beckoned you over when you couldn’t find the start of the wrapping. With careful hands he unwrapped it, layer by layer and rinsed the remains of the dried medicine. 

The cuts had all closed up, only a few scabs remaining over risen pink lines that spelled out his name. His touch lingered and your hand found his, taking it off your skin and placing it back on your chest. 

“I invited you in for more than just to let the water soothe your aches.” When he withdrew his hand you let yourself sink further into the water again. 

Adar was clearly affected by your actions. It showed in his restless movements and how he cleared his throat as he adjusted each and every part of his armor. 

With a quick dive you wet your hair and moved over to Adar’s legs, coming back up only an inch away from him with your hands on his knees, pushing them apart. 

“You’ve been taking care of me since I got here. At least let me return the favor.” You eyed the strain in his trousers for a moment before looking up and you could see him contemplating, and then nod.

Excited, you went to work and fumbled to open Adar’s trousers to pull him free, wrapping one hand around his length to pump him a few times before moving forward, wetting the fabric around his legs with your body.

As your tongue laps at the head of his cock Adar sighed and leaned back on his hands, watching as you worked him. Adar’s soft moans and gentle slosh of the water was all you heard with every inch you took him deeper into your mouth. 

His taste was salty on your tongue, leaking with each pull of your lips. It was with great difficulty that you managed to take all of him into your mouth, the tip at the back of your throat causing you to gag. 

Adar was holding back his sounds, trying to keep himself from bucking his hips into you, fingers digging into the layer of ash on the stones beneath him.

He watched as drool and tears ran down your face as you eagerly sucked him off, a hand coming to rest on your cheek. 

“You know there is no need for you to do th– ahh, oh, don’t stop..” Adar’s voice cracked as your hand cupped his balls and your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, your other hand working what didn’t fit comfortably in your mouth.

Adar’s earlier soft sighs turned into full moans, unable to keep his hips still when he spilled his seed down your throat.

Only when he let go of your cheek you separated from him with a cough, having swallowed all that he gave you.

“Go wash up, I’d like to have you returned home before dark.” Adar worked to tuck himself back into his trousers and retrieved a towel for you while you washed yourself, shivering immediately from the cold air as you got out of the water. 

As you stood by him, drying your hair, bare for the world to see, Adar glanced over your body. His gaze lingered and his mind replayed the words you had spoken to him.

Please.." You pulled him in closer with your heels pressed into his back, moaning as his cock hit just right inside you. "Make me a mother." 

Adar’s eyes were on your stomach and he wondered. Had his seed taken root yet, or was he to try again? Would you even still want to, now that your mind wasn’t partially hazed by alcohol? 

The walk home was a quiet one. Partially to Adar’s wandering mind, as well as you keeping yourself busy with sightseeing. The dull light scattered by the damaged trees gave an eerie air to the surrounding woods, but you could not keep your eyes off it. It reminded you of graphite drawings back home. 

Home. 

You had been so focused on the uruk and settling within their community you hadn’t even given a thought to finding if your old home was still intact. It probably wasn’t, if you took into consideration that most of the structure was wood, not even close to being as sturdy as the tavern that still partially stood despite the flaming rocks.

“Say, Adar.” You fell into step with him once more and saw you had his attention. 

“Can we eh.. Can you help me find a place in town? I want to see what’s left of it.” 

With an affirming nod Adar hummed in agreement. 

“Where exactly was the building you seek? There is a chance it was torn down for resources.” Adar thought out loud in hope to lessen your hurt if you found the place to be gone. 

You looked around and were sad to say you had no idea where in the old village you stood now with the addition of so many smaller tent homes around and other structures down and broken. 

The tavern that served as your current residence was used as a starting point, looking into the direction your old home stood and started wandering. 

Through the homes and workshops young uruk played. Two boys with toy swords ran and yelled in passing. Visions of the once green grass and sandy paths appeared before you as you followed your feet towards where you’d find your old home.

Your home, that was now nothing more than a lot filled with salvaged wood and stone, sorted and piled.

It hurt to see your home no longer stood, even if it was never much in the first place. 

Your grief was short lived, as high pitched yelling pulled you from your thoughts and a weight suddenly slammed into your leg. A young child had clamped herself around your lower leg, trembling. Behind you more yelling sounded and you picked up the scared child and let her wrap herself around you, sharp nails digging into your skin.

“Oh crap, it's Adar. Run!” The two boys you saw earlier dropped their toys and ran off in the opposite direction, away from you and Adar who stayed at your side. 

“Are you alright, little one? The boys are gone.” You stroked her coarse hair that sat in a lopsided ponytail tied with a clearly recently found, shiny ribbon.

Big, sad eyes looked up at you, tiny hands still grabbing your top as she nodded. 

“Yes, lady.” She looked away from you when Adar stepped closer again after retrieving the toy swords the boys had dropped, and quickly shied away once more. Her face was hidden in the crook of your neck. “This is Myko,” Adar’s gentle voice spoke beside you, his hand coming up to rest on her back. “She loves spending time with the wargs. Wants to be a warg rider when she’s big enough.” 

At the mention of her interest she peeked up once more, a glimmer in her eyes that had you play into it. 

“Oh, you should show me one day! I would love to learn about the wargs.” You gently put the young girl back on her feet, letting her run off after she excitedly agreed to show you the wargs.

Turning back to Adar you noticed the toy swords in his hands. “It sounded like those two have given other kids trouble before with how fast they ran from you.” There was amusement in your tone, and in Adar’s as well. 

“They are twin boys who have taken it upon themselves to cause havoc wherever they go, yes.” Adar sighed, an air of sadness clear in his eyes. “Their mother has a hard time keeping them in control.” 

“Twins, huh.” You mimicked. “They didn’t look alike, from what I saw.” You stepped back into the town streets aside Adar, thinking back at the two boys. “I have to be honest here, though. I don’t think I’ve ever seen twins before in my lifetime.” 

Now it was Adar who chuckled, a sound that caught you so off guard you nearly missed the hole in the ground and tripped. “You will have to get used to seeing doubles, then. Twins are common among uruk.” He made a sudden turn towards a home and handed the two wooden swords back to a woman walking with a crutch. She missed her left lower leg but moved around with practiced skill. She and Adar exchanged quick words before he moved on once more. 

“You’ll find most twins to be different at first with their differences in skin, but on closer look you will find there to be many similarities. Eyes, ear shape and other features match their counterparts. Next time Lech and Kach decide to grace you with their presence, take the time to have a good look.” the conversation kept up until your paths split on your way to each of your homes. Adar had business to attend as the Lord Father of his people, and you desperately needed rest.

[marcelloshdz]

couples quiz

summary: you and marcello are the featured guests on the upcoming episode of the GQ "couples quiz." requested by anonymous. marcello x female!singer reader. this ended up being quite long, but i hope you enjoy! <3

“and there we go! you look stunning.” your makeup artist said to you.

“thanks to you.” you smiled at them. you were on set with GQ, getting ready to film a video with them. they’d invited you and marcello you partake in one of their “couples quiz” videos, and the two of you jumped at the opportunities.

you were led to the set, taking your seat as you waited for marcello to join you. he smiled at you has he walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before taking his seat across from you.

“you guys ready?” the producer asked, and you both nodded. 

“so ready.” you said with a smile, as some members from the crew handed you your question cards.

they counted down, and began rolling, you and marcello putting on your best faces and beginning the video.

“hey there, i’m y/n l/n,”

“and i’m marcello hernández,”

“and this is the GQ couples quiz.” you said in unison.

“alright, who wants to start?” you asked. 

“ladies first.” marcello said with a smile.

“well then, alright.” you settled the question cards in your hands, reading him the first one. “okay, this is a simple one to get us started. what is my favorite nickname for you?” you asked. 

“you call me cello a lot. or cellito, if you’re feeling flirtier than normal. but you’re also very heavy on the babe or baby. sometimes honey, which i personally love.”

“hmm, good to know.” you laughed before moving on to the next question. “oh, this is a good one. what was the first song i ever played for you?”

“i don’t want to give too much away, because as far as i know, it’s unreleased, yeah?” he asked, and you nodded.

“it is.” 

“but, i can say that you wrote it shortly after we made it official. so, almost four years ago. and, it’s about me.” he said, with a smirk to the camera.

“that is correct. at this point, i’m not sure i wanna release it, and instead just keep it between the two of us.” you said to the camera. you then moved on to the next question. “what is my favorite date we’ve been on?” 

“ooh, i know this one real well, because you tell this story all the time to people we meet.” he laughed, and you blushed. “it was when we were first dating, we were both in LA for work, and had coinciding days off. i took you to griffith park, we had a picnic, and we made friendship bracelets for each other with our initials on them. then, after lunch, we drove up mulholland, parked at one of the overlooks, and laid on the hood of our car while we watched the sunset over the city. it was very romantic. that was the night i asked you to be my girlfriend.” 

“i never told you this, but i’m sure i was already falling in love with you at that point. it was only like, a month or so after we started hanging out and talking, but i was already locked in.” 

“honestly, so was i.” marcello said, echoing your sentiment with a smile.

“next question; what is my favorite sketch of yours?” 

“you always tell me you have multiple favorites, and they change like, every month.” he laughed before answering.

“that is true, but i do have one all time favorite. one that i, without question, would top tier marcello sketches. and we’re not talking update features, because i love all of those. just live sketches.” you explained.

“okay, that helps me a bit. i’m gonna go with either fusion scientist, or the age of discovery.” he said.

“it is fusion scientist, but i’m only gonna give you half a point because you hesitated.”

“aw man.” he laughed. 

“although, i do also love the age of discovery. there’s something about fusion scientist  that just always gets me. i had genuine tears in my eyes the first time i watched it, and am still bitter it was cut for time.”  you clarified.

“that one was really fun to perform. it was so ridiculous and goofy, but i loved it.” he explained. 

“and thats why i love it too.” you said. “alright, next question. oh, this is a good one; what is my favorite gift you’ve given me?” you finished the question, and watched his eyes flit to your hands, landing on your ring finger on your left hand. he reached out to you, and you placed your hand in his, smiling as he pressed a kiss to the ring.

“this right here.” he said as you held your hand out to the camera for a close up. “i got you that ring on our first anniversary. it’s our birthstones in a heart shaped setting.” 

“not only is it my favorite gift you’ve given me, but i think it’s my favorite gift i’ve ever gotten, ever.” you said. you finished out your questions, tallying up marcello’s score. “alright, we are sitting at a nice round 20 points.” you said to the camera. 

“well, good for me.” he said with a laugh. “alright, my turn. first up, what sports did i play growing up?” he asked you.

“soccer was your main sport, and you played it throughout high school and college. but you also played baseball, and dabbled in golf, and sometimes fishing?”

“wow. yes to all of those. um, i don’t think i want to play this game anymore.” he laughed. 

“hey, we’re only one question in. don’t get too discouraged.”

“next question; who has been my favorite host to work with so far on snl?”

“either pedro or benito.” you answered, and he nodded. “those were really big episodes for you, and i know you had a good time getting to write and work on pretty good sketches during those episodes.” 

“those were both really good, and i enjoyed them both a lot. but, if i had to pick, i would pick benito over pedro.”

“oh, tea.” you gasped through a laugh.

“only because of the age of discovery sketch. that sketch being entirely in spanish, and all the love we got on it, it made me really proud. pedro was also part of that episode, so that still counts.” he explained. “what is my favorite food?” he asked.

“anything cuban or dominican. chuletas, tostones, literally anything else. you’re very easy to please.” you answered immediately. “c’mon give me a challenge.”

“yeah i should’ve skipped that one.” he laughed. “next one. oh, here’s a good one. what was i wearing on our first date?”

“you were wearing a dark blue cardigan, over a white t-shirt, with blue jeans, and white sneakers.” you answered. “i had a picture of us from that night as my phone wallpaper for a long time, it’s practically burned into my brain at this point.” you said. “do you remember what i was wearing?” you asked him

“you were wearing a black, like, lacy top, with a white skirt and black platform loafers.” 

“actually,”

“what?!” he said loudly, feigning offense.

“no, i’m just kidding. that was right.” you laughed.

“i was about to be so mad.” he laughed. “alright, next one; where was our first kiss?” he asked.

“our first kiss was on the beach in miami. you were home, visiting family and some friends. you asked if i wanted to come see you, and of course, being as down bad as i already was, i immediately jumped on a plane with zero hesitation. we had just finished lunch, and we were hanging out on the beach near where you grew up. we were sitting there in silence, listening to the waves crash on the shore, when we turned to each other, and we kissed. i remember it being really awkward, and us almost missing?”

“i do remember that as well.” he laughed. “but look at us now, so it must not have been too terrible.”

“it was a first kiss, so you kinda expect it to be awkward. but it was good in the long run.” you said, and marcello nodded, smiling at you. before continuing through the next couple of questions.

“alright, i think this is my last one.”

“and, not to brag, but i am only one point behind you.” you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“well, then this will count for two points.” he said, clearing his throat. “which one of us made the first move?”

“you did.”

“wow, that was fast.”

“you did! we were at an snl after party, after dua lipa’s episode. which, i was invited to by her, by the way.” you said, matter-of-factly. “we were both at the bar, waiting for our drinks, and made small talk. we hung out for a bit, and by the end of the night, you were already asking for my number. barely two days later, you were asking me to go out.” 

“and you accepted without hesitation.” 

“well, yes, but this isn’t about me.” you teased, and marcello rolled his eyes at you.

“well, that was my last question. our final scores are 21 to 20, y/n only getting extra points because i played multiple sports growing up.” 

“and for that, i thank you.” you laughed.

you filmed the outro for the video, saying good bye and thanking the future audience for watching. there was a loud “CUT!” from behind the camera, and the producers and crew were thanking you and marcello for such a fun episode.

“thanks for having us! this was a lot of fun.” marcello said, and you nodded in agreement. the two of you headed out to your car, making your way to a nearby restaurant for lunch. you got your food, and sat down at a table, replaying the events of the afternoon. 

“we should do more things like that. i know we pride ourselves on having quite a private relationship, but it was a lot of fun.” marcello said to you.

“it was! but i feel like youre just suggesting that so you can redeem yourself and let the people know that you know me better than i know you.” you said to him. 

“no, why would you ever think that?” he said sarcastically. you just laughed and shook your head. the two of you finished your lunch, enjoying your meal and being with each other. truthfully, marcello knew you better than you knew yourself, and vice versa. and that made you happier than you could ever put into words.

[glypt0don]

So, this is quite a rant. You can skip to the bottom, if you want to know my opinion but don't want to read that much... But I worked hard on it and I think it's important, so it would make me very happy if you read through the whole text.

So this fits into something I wanted to post about anyway: a broader theme of why do we frame things as wars? Like, why is it culture war, specifically. First I liked the concept, I thought it described something quite complicated reasonably easily. But I pondered on it a bit more and I think there's more going on.

It's pretty trivial, that most societies went through a huge change over the last half century. It's not just feminism. I could make a whole list of things we as a people took on. Anti-racism and civil rights, religious acceptance, global trade, reinterpreting the meaning of peace, connecting the word through the world-wide web, etc. We ( or, as I am barely an adult and have no idea how to change things for the better, I should say you, or maybe chat) decided it was time for change, so change came. You brought it about.

And I agree. Change WAS and IS necessary. What that change should entail, well, we all have our ideas, right? And they have the ugly tendency to differ from each other. The question then is, how do we coincide our contradictory ideas on society? The answer is both worrying and very important.

To be fair, our race doesn't have a great track record on solving these kinds of issues. I dug into my historical knowledge, since, you know, those who don't learn from it, repeat it... The only thing I can compare to what's happening today would be the Reformation (which probably says a lot about my historical knowledge). That's the only time I know, where societal assumptions were altered so much in such a short time. That time it was specifically about the Catholic church (if you don't know, what I'm talking about, you really should, so Google it), and the result was a series of wars, that ultimately may have wiped out about a fifth of Europes population. The wars were of course led by powerful men, who capitalised on the divide to further their own goals.

As back then, now too, we can't rely on institutions to tame the public. Many media and political identities have a direct interest in polarising society. Because that's what happens. All these contentious issues about gender, class, or foreign policy become dividing lines between folks who are supposed to be parts of the same whole (call it community, state, nation or humanity, depending on how wide you can think). You know, how it works, probably saw it a few times, whatever your interests are. It's literally everywhere! We fight it out with the perceived enemy of the week sometimes, when there is an election, something notable happens, or it's simply Pride Month. Then everyone goes back to their respective corners, where they vehemently agree with themselves. We don't talk a lot, just throw words at each other, like Buggs Bunny, playing tennis with a dynamite.

I should say, this post is a notable and refreshing outlier. Thanks, @trans-androgyne , for starting a discussion for a change!

I know, it's a bit like nuclear armament. You can't just stop, because THEY won't, and then they win, and you can't allow that. It's life and death! And I don't have some magic pill to make it all go right, or believe me, I wouldn't sit here, typing this out at 3 in the morning Central European Time. But let me propose this: don't call it a war! Neither culture war, nor gender war, nor anything like that. Because this isn't a war. Just ask anyone in the middle east! They can tell you, what is war, and THIS IS NOT IT! And also, because it may not be guns and destruction yet, but nothing guarantees, that it stays that way. We already had multiple attempted takeovers of capital buildings since this cursed decade began, because our social reality became so fragmented, that you can't accept the results of a popular election anymore. That should raise alarm bells. I know it does, but it can be much worse! Learn from history, do not repeat it! Hit the Wiki page on the Huguenot war! On the siege of Magdeburg. Or, if that's not your cup of tea, watch Civil War! I genuinely think it's the best movie of the year.

Call it Social Discourse! That sounds much more manageable, doesn't it? Or you can come up with something else, as long as it isn't some warmongering bullshit. And maybe the next time you meet someone with sexist, homophobic, racist, or maybe radical left and anarchistic views (whatever you're opposing), don't attack them with your words! Those aren't weapons. Try to talk to them instead! Try talking about feelings! Listen to theirs, make them understand yours! I say feelings, because you both have those. Try finding a common ground, however small, and build up from there. Like Minecraft Skyblock. It can be hard in a challenging way, instead of making you want to shoot yourself in the head. Remember, you aren't fighting a war. You are having a discourse.

All of it is to say, the world and society are changing, wether you like it or not, and we have to change with it, to survive. That is the simple fact. If you call that change a war, that's just gonna make the whole thing unnecessarily painful for everyone involved.

This was sociopolitical advice from a giant armadillo.

Genuinely, what happened to “feminism is for everyone”?

That’s the feminism I grew up with: encouraging people to recognize that fighting sexism and restrictive gender roles helps folks of every gender. We’d push back on the idea that feminists hate men, pointing to inclusive feminist literature and how many men are feminists.

Now, there are so many people insisting that the solution to patriarchy is to openly hate and ostracize men no matter what. Why? What is the benefit? It’s certainly not effective in fighting oppressive structures to exclude half the population from your cause on the basis of immutable traits. It may feel cathartic to say horrible things about men and try to punish them for your frustrations with patriarchy. But the only actual effect I see is the increasing right-wing radicalization of young men, who are being told that the left hates them for the way they were born and presented with an abundance of proof that it’s true.

Why are we going back to treating men and women as different species? It doesn’t fix things to say “well women are the good gender and men are the bad one” this time. If you sincerely want to dismantle sexism, you’re going to have to unpack and let go of all sex and gender essentialism—even that which considers women inherently pure and men inherently immoral.

[thelunarfairy]

Hey there! Am back :3

Chap 120 was uh...ow. AidaIro hurt my feelings to put it lightly.

Ahem- anyways.

I was thinking a lot about how in thos timeline, Tsukasa and Amane almost switched roles. I mean, Tsukasa is still infested with the entity, but Amane is the one doing the enitity's bidding this time. I know Hanako still had the entity in him in the normal timeline, but you het the point.

Anyway, I wanted to know your take on why Amane seems so out of control with the entity, and Tsukasa handles it better. Why Hanako needs a seal. I mean, Tsukasa does some pretty fucked up shit, sure, but he also doesn't try to kill everyone or sacrifice them (Sakura, Natsuhiko, etc). It's like Tsukasa and the entity have more of a partnership, while Amane is almost enslaved to it.

Now, I know memory also plays a part here, because he doesn't recognize Kou or Nene (at least not u til the split second when Nene screams for Hanako to help her) and it snaps him out of it. If he remembered them, would he able to hold back and not murder Kou and Mitsuba? Then again, can't exactly ignore all the murdering he's doing anyway. Besides that, Amane has always been known to have the kinder temperament. You can see it in his eyes versus Tsukasa's, and his personality in general.

I guess my curiosity stems from the fact that with the entity, Tsukasa never killed humans despite having the entity in him. He was probably hurting Amane, but it was because he WANTED to break Amane right? Wanted him to kill him. So why could Tsukasa grow up (before he was murdered obv) and not go on a murderous rampage, while Amane does? Amane is literally an adult too, and Tsukasa is still a child! Lil psychopathic bb.

Sorry if this is too long of an ask 😅 I really dont know how to stfu lol. Excited to see your take on this if you decide to!! No worries if not :)

Hello dear!!!!! welcome back!!!

That chapter made the fandom suffer XD

You answered your own question. Tsukasa has a special connection with the entity. Apparently he is the first one not to fear the entity, he taught it to speak and stayed with it daily for a while.

Tsukasa sacrificed himself willingly, he fulfilled the agreement, and he went alone, he didn't have to be forced to do it. So yes, he and the entity have a partnership.

Tsukasa does what the entity asks, which means that it doesn't need to control and order him, because he will do it.

And the entity "trusts" Tsukasa so much, that it allowed him to come back, and the one who asked it to come back with him was Tsukasa.

It wasn't the entity that said "you'll only come back if I go with you".

It was Tsukasa who said that the entity would go with him.

In the old reality, Tsukasa is committed to accomplishing some still mysterious things, his intelligence resonates with the entity. He can convince it to do certain things or stop it.

Like how he easily makes the house retreat when he sets it on fire.

Not because the house wouldn't listen if he asked, but because Tsukasa was pretending not to have a direct connection with the house to Kou and Nene, so that they wouldn't suspect.

He wouldn't say "stop it" in front of them, so he used another effective way without taking away the idea that he is trapped and is a victim of the house. Yes, he is a victim, but he was the one who chose to sacrifice himself, he wasn't forced to do it.

He talks casually with the entity, as if they were close friends. He isn't afraid of anything, so Tsukasa doesn't need to be manipulated or controlled, he does what he has to do.

Remember that I'm referring to Yorishiro and little Tsukasa from the old reality. It's still too early to conclude anything about Tsukasa of the new reality.

Amane from the old reality fears the entity, you can see the fear reflected in his eyes, he knows the danger that creature represents. Hanako doesn't like the entity and is forced to do the things it demands.

He doesn't like what he does and is against it, but it seems that he has too much experience and understands that fighting the entity is problematic. The entity will force him to do what it wants, as you saw, and since Hanako doesn't want to do what it asks, then the entity takes control over him.

This seems to be something that really happened in the old reality too, since he can only control himself if he is sealed.

In the new reality, Amane has no control at all, suddenly he is controlled and the entity does what it wants without even allowing Amane to have memories of it, so that he won't be able to try to get rid of it.

So in short, Tsukasa has a partnership with the entity, so it doesn't need to control Tsukasa at all. (in the old reality).

Hanako fears and is against the things the entity does, that's why he is possessed, to be forced to do what the entity wants.

Amane probably wouldn't kill Kou and Mitsuba if he were fully conscious, at least if it didn't have any direct objective.

For example, if he needed to sacrifice the two for someone he loves, he would do it. He already did. Hanako will always be Hanako, what changes are the circumstances. As much as he is kind, he still has the potential to be someone bad.

Tsukasa hurting Amane is an old theory, because the signs point to it, who would Amane forgive for hurting him like that?

Tsukasa, but Nene too.

Tsukasa can be aggressive and violent with people, but so far he has never been like that with Hanako. That must mean something. I once created a theory about Amane's injuries.

Now about Tsukasa, don't believe that he is a "psychopath".

We now understand how the entity works, in many moments we have clearly seen how the entity also influences Tsukasa's actions, just as Aidairo made it clear how the entity acts.

Amane is a serial killer now, but it is not exactly him. The boy is just a shell that is being controlled by the entity, it is the entity that wants the deaths.

You just said that Tsukasa does not kill humans, how would he be a psychopath if he does not kill humans?

Remember, the entity is still inside him.

Why is Tsukasa, who has always had the entity inside his body, still considered a "psychopath", and when Amane kills MANY people, he is just the boy who is being "controlled?".

Do you see the point here?

They both have this thing in their bodies, and they are both under its influence. Neither Amane nor Tsukasa want to kill anyone, in any reality.

The only psychopath that exists here is the entity.

Don't worry!!!!!!! Thank you!!

[bringthekaos]

are you gonna keep writing jayvik now that viktor is confirmed straight?

Gunna answer this one diplomatically, even though this ask was clearly sent with malice. Warning for Act 2 spoilers (and possible Act 3 spoilers, since the footage used in the "The Line" music video is most likely from Act 3).

First, when I continue to write Jayvik, it will probably have to be an AU anyway, because I have about 2% confidence that both of them make it out of this show alive.

Second: he is still not confirmed straight. He was depicted taking Sky's hands as she fades away for a second time. This means nothing, romantically. It means he regrets this is happening, he knows it's his fault, and he wishes to bring comfort to her in her last moments.

And that's if it even is her, and not a manifestation of his guilt, given that she doesn't look like herself at all in his hallucinations, or whatever it is. Her eyebrows are thinner in the hallucination, and her hair is wholly different: not as high on her head nor as tightly bundled or curly. This points to a suggestion that this manifestation is his best effort of representing her in his mind, and it is wrong because he didn't know her well at all.

Not to mention, in the very few interactions that they had (before Jayce's Progress Day Speech and when she asked him to walk home together), he was shown just... not receptive. It could have been read as disinterest because he is gay (which obviously many people did), or just that he has a very one-track mind on his research at the time, and isn't even cognizant of the missed social interaction. But either way, there was no foundation for connection, intimate or otherwise, between them. Certainly not enough for the heavy-handed and forced connection depicted in season 2.

THAT SAID, I am a very ship and let ship person. I have certainly fabricated ships from less. Hell, I've shipped characters that never even interacted in canon. And I have no problem with the SkyVik ship, given that his sexuality was never confirmed one way or the other. Honestly, if it had been built up better in the writing, there is potential there! Both of them being from Zaun, and clawing their way into the Academy, which as Jayce said has a success rate of 3%. But it is not groundbreaking or even remotely incorrect to say that this ship is fabricated (and not in a negative sense. It's just fact). There wasn't enough to support it. He brushed her off multiple times. And he only seems to give her the attention after she is dead, which again points to a motivation of guilt: he wishes he'd gotten to know her and her aspirations and dreams before her life was cut short by him. But it's too late.

And lastly, the thing everyone needs to understand is this: Jayce and Viktor were released in League in 2012, and Jayce was specifically built as the mirror to Viktor. It was honestly quite a poetic "formed from the rib" kind of release for Jayce, who came 7 months after Viktor. These two had no canon romantic involvements in that time beyond mere speculation, so naturally they had very queer undertones for almost ten years before Arcane came out. And I don't think it's much of a leap to be disappointed when the producers and distributors of the show decided that they couldn't make their show "too gay" for mainstream audiences. Especially when the pre-established League fanbase consisted of 87% men (source), and a lot of cishet men are threatened/disgusted by/afraid of gay men, yet fetishize lesbian sex. So yeah. The Jayvik shippers get understandably disappointed when their 10-year old ship gets no-homo'd at the finish line.

So to answer your original question. Yeah. I am probably gunna continue to write Jayvik. Yes, even if they're both "confirmed" straight. I will hit them both with the bi hammer. And I will tag my stuff accordingly, and "stay in my lane" so to speak, and everyone is welcome to block me if they don't wanna see it. I'm not gunna go around harassing SkyVik shippers, just as I have never harassed MelJayce shippers. And I'm sure this will be called "misogyny" by many who'd like to assign a moral high ground to their attempts at eradicating the JayVik ship. Trust me, if I could have my ship without disregarding two amazing women, I would do it. But I can't, because someone at the decision making table decided to give two characters who never had any romantic involvements in League the no homo treatment.

And of course, as always, the season is not over. Some of this could change. But my love of the JayVik ship won't. Block me if you don't like it.

For obvious reasons, anon is now off ✌️

[brittle-doughie]

Greetings! CCCC Anon here once again! its been a while since I've sent an ask due to lack of ideas but here we are! Couldn't pick what I want to send first and ended up deciding to sent a couple of incorrect quotes.

(p.s some small changes are made on the 3 sides, Emotional side now has wings(they're now slightly burnt and all new feathers are dull due to instinctual side), logical side has a small floating blue crown, floating sharp metallic fingers and is basically a fully sentient robot, and instinctual's right side is dark red with bright red outlines, three horns and a tail with it's head resembling that of the head of a trident.)

Emotional side: (Do you take constructive criticism?)

Logical side: [No, only cash or credit.]

Instinctual side:*holding papers with lyrics*{Does anyone understand their parts?}

Emotional side:(Uh I broke my gun.)

Instinctual side:{I don't care, *Throws all the papers to the side* Wonderful!}

Instinctual side:{Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life.}

Emotional side:(*concerned* U-um..)

Logical side:[Please never become a surgeon.]

Instinctual side:{Someone's trying to break in. Its totally crowned cupcake and royal icing Call the cops!}

Emotional side:(*Pulls out a glock* I got this.)

Logical side:[Last week you fell up the stairs, what do you mean-]

Hero cookie: I have a bad feeling about this.

Logical side:[What do you mean?]

Emtional side:(Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble?)

Logical side:[....No?]

Logical side:[Violence isn't the answer.]

Emotional side:(You're right. Violence is a question and the answer is yes.)

Instinctual side:{No-}

Emotional side:(How stupid do you think I am?!)

Logical side:[You really want an honest answer to that?]

Instincual side:{I only have 2 emotions: exhaustion and stress. and somehow always feeling both simultaneously.}

Ananas dragon cookie: Uh- I-

Lotus dragon cookie: Well, are you going to say something?

Ananas dragon cookie: WELL I DON'T HOW TO RESPOND TO THAT!

Y/n, who just became whole few weeks ago and is already sick and tired of all of the obssesive cookie's bullshit:<What, I can't be in a bad mood? Like cookies think, "Oh, Y/n's such a nice person, Y/n is so happy-go-lucky! Y/n Can't be in a bad mood!">

Pure vanilla cookie: Y/n-

Y/n:<Well you know what?*Holding the potion that resulted in them splitting into 3 sides* Y/n CAN be in a bad mood.>

Pure vanilla cookie:Y/n please put the potion down we can talk this out-

Y/n now deranged:<And right now, Y/n IS in a bad mood.>

Pure vanilla cookie: Y/N NO-

Y/n:*Chugs down the entire potion and splits into 3 again*

Emotional side:(...Why..)

Logical side:[Oh you have got to be kiddin-}

Instinctual side:{OH FOR FUCKS SAKE-}

I would add something here on the end of this ask but idk how what to put.

Sincerely- CCCC Anon

The incorrect quotes are, indeed, incorrect.

[cube-cumb3r]

How did people answer the Dungeon Meshi question? (aka. how the Hell do you parse through free-form responses?!?)

(art by Ryokō Kui)

This first part is just going to be babble about google sheets and excel functions, feel free to skim or skip to the results.

Here's how the question was formulated: "Which Dungeon meshi character is objectively the best one If you are unfamiliar with dungeon meshi but still have an answer to this question, you can still answer (you don't need to know the character's name)."

As you can imagine, this made the responses exactly as creative as you'd expect. Which has made them both delightful to read through, but also painful to convert into usable data.

I started with making a list of the most frequently used words, excluding common ones. Here's an excerpt.

From this we already can see some hints as to the character most frequently mentioned, but if I were to make a chart of this it'd be a zillion categories, when ideally the responses obviously referring to the same character should be in one group, so we can truely see how many times a character was mentioned, no?

Although I could individually read every answer and categorize them manually I am NOT going to do that because, 1. it's tedious 2. I don't want to 3. I won't learn anything

If I ever work with a dataset of 1000 observations, doing it manually is absolutely not even feasible, therefore it's good to already know a better way to do it.

I was initially hoping to utilize xlookup, but I realized that xlookup doesn't actually do what I think it did. What I was HOPING it would do was to be able to identify keywords within longer answers, such as "cat girl" or "beardy dwarf" and then match them to some sort of index, where it'd be like Oh "cat girl"? That's obviously "Izutsumi". This is not how xlookup works. Xlookup cannot pick out a keyword from a longer response, it can only identify a partial phrase (example, if the full index phrase was "Delicious In Dungeon", a response saying "Delicious" will match, but a response saying "My favorite anime is Delicious in Dungeon", will not match, because xlookup cannot match a PERFECT MATCH from within a longer chunk of text.)

So instead I had to rely on my long-time good-time pal Regular Expression functions and combine them with xlookup. With my reliable sunday lover Regexextract I can Extract keywords out of answers in one step, and then in the next step match said keyword to my index.

INDEX:

^here is the index. Any non-blank response that doesn't match these gets counted as "Other". I tried to make the keywords as short as possible, that way they'd catch as many alternate spellings as possible without me having to write every variation out myself (LAZY!). For example, "bear" and "beard" don't need to be separate keywords (if they like in this index, correspond to the same character), as the keyword "bear" will match both the word Bear and Beard. Though, and as you will see later, making the keywords too short will result in false matches.

I made some Liberal Assumptions as to who a responder meant, such as in answers mentioning 'lesbians' or 'elf', which could in theory mean many characters. I went back and checked and adjusted the index to see that every answer got coded reasonably, but this has resulted in an index that is extremely adapted to this specific dataset, and it would not be as effective or reliable on a different dataset of Dungeon Meshi Answers.

Also, if a responder mentioned multiple characters, the first match is the one they got counted as. This could also be incorrect, depending on the answer.

RESULTS!!!

Here are the results! The title of the chart is wrong, I was obviously asking about the objectively best character, not "favorite"! Oh well. According to 24.4% responders, the objectively best character is Senshi, which is the correct answer (<- JOKE) (<- actually answered 'Marcille' himself)

You might notice quite a large "Other" category of 21.3% too, this is every response that was difficult to match to a specific Dungeon Meshi character, for a variety of reasons. Check out this hideous pie chart.

I don't know who "the one with teacher vibes" or "the one who is secretly a neutron star" is. Sorgy. Some of these were also referring to characters from other media, which is allowed and I respect it, but none of them recurring sadly. Wouldn't it be crazy if like 4 entirely separate people independently answered Sans. What Would It Mean?

Full responses:

With every "identifiable" response just being coded into a category, you don't actually get to see the beautiful ways in which THOSE people responded this question. So, here they are, in ascending order.

Izutsumi (7.5% of responses)

I was expecting more alternate spellings on this one, I personally think her name is tricky to spell, but that didn't seem to be the case. Also, seems that many people who think she's objectively the best one also don't actually know her name.

Falin (9.4% of responses)

Two of the responses here contains the two keywords, "chicken"/"bird" (which would categorize it as "Falin") and "lesb" (Which would actually categorize it as "Marcille"). Luckily, chicken and bird happened to be written first, so those responses got correctly coded as Falin.

Chilchuck (10.0% of responses)

Nearly everyone who think Chilchuck is the best one also seem to know his name. Maybe you need to be familiar with the show to truely appreciate the Chilchuck?

Laios (12.5% of responses)

Here, due to my laziness of not wanting to account for every possible spelling of Laios, "Ludmila" gets miscategorized as Laios because it contains the keyword "la". However, "The paladin" (which I do think actually is referring to Laios) gets accidentally categorized as Laios for the same reason, correctly.

Marcille (12.5% of responses)

The reason I made the controversial judgement call that responses containing the word lesbian would be coded as Marcille, is because I made the very liberal assumption that anyone responding with just "The lesbian" probably did mean Marcille, anyone familiar enough with Dungeon Meshi to mean Otta is probably be familiar enough to know her name. There is one response here saying "Lesbians", and they probably meant both Marcille and Falin but responders only get one character, so it got counted as Marcille.

Senshi (24.4%)

(You might notice as I just did that a response clearly meaning Chilchuck got coded as Senshi because they happened to mention Senshi first. That's my mistake for not making "halfling" it's own keyword. Sorry!)

Similarly to Izutsumi and Falin, Senshi seems to be a character many responders don't know the name of, in fact it looks like he most out of any character had the most responses mention him without knowing his name. Given that, I would make the assumption that most people who are only vaguely familiar with Dungeon Meshi, and perhaps don't even watch the show, overwhelmingly think Senshi is the Best Guy. Does that make it more of a correct answer, or less?

Anyway,

That's that for Dungeon Meshi. Happy Meshing everybody

[LINK TO MASTERPOST]

Does anyone want to do my new google form

[emilywaters]

So I just finished watching arcane season 2 act 3 and I have Thoughts.

Act 3 spoilers below

(I apologise for any spelling/grammar mistakes and if it all sounds wack. It's like late and I needed to empty my brain)

So I'll start with what I absolutely loved.

Seeing that Vi is actually the 'jinx' bcs in the timeline she dies, everyone else lives. And along this line is her saying, "I always choose wrong."

Lesbian Sex.

Canon Lesbian Sex.

The JaVik space marriage.

The casual representation of a very huge amount of demographics (queer, disabled, POC, etc)

The art style, animation, soundtrack, voice acting, character designs, set designs, fight scenes, the casual representation, all of those were absolutely beautiful. It was clearly a labour of love, and I have so much respect and appreciation for every single person involved.

Next, I do have some neutral points, where there are questions I'm not sure were answered, but it could also be me missing something.

These include,

The actual motive of the black roses,

What Ambessa did to piss them off,

Why Maddie was with Ambessa,

The consequences of going beyond the 4 second limit,

And potentially more. If there are answers to these questions that I have simply missed, please do tell me and disregard any points I make surrounding them.

Okay, so if nearly everything was perfect, where do I find fault? Tragically, the plot.

I watched season 1 quite a while back, so I'm drawing on my murky memories of it when I reference it.

In season 1 our main conflict was the undercity, with Jink, Silco, Sevika, versus the rich and affluent Piltover. Rich girl realizes the people of Zaun are suffering and two scientists try to solve problems in their own way.

This theme carries over into the first act of season 2, and somewhat into the 2nd act as well. However, this storyline, which has been a very important one, seems to almost be completely discarded for the Hextech-arcane plot line.

The undercity Vs the rich feels like it was solved too easily. How does a city that has suffered immensely at the hands of the rich and successful turn around so quickly to help them. And how does a city sending polluted air into an already crumbling city, ignoring their poverty and calling them filthy animals, simply turn around and accept them. It feels like that theme was shoved into a drawer, with having Sevika and others joining the council added as a consolation prize. There was no justice for their dead. And those in power suffer no consequences.

As I so crassly put it in my fervent texts to my friend, "Season 2 looked like it was going to be rich bitches Vs poor on steroids with police brutality." That's how the first act started out. We were going to see how the effects of grief, manipulation, hatred and privilege so quickly blur out all the innocent collateral of your rampage.

Then these seemed to minimize within the second act and vanish almost entirely in the third act. Additionally, the other minor plots feel underdeveloped, with a lot of potential, but too many spread too thin.

I saw some people talking about how Arcane was rushing the plot too much at the start of season two, and I do see what they mean now.

The inherent theme of the story, which was about liberation, equality, the guilt of the rich, felt like it shifted in act 3 into, again, as crassly put by me, "true peace is hive mind oh wait no imperfections are good thing."

Of course, I could be completely wrong and missing the mark entirely, so if I am please do enlighten me, preferably without insult, as I've been known to be careless.

The Undercity's rage requires more justice and I feel like it was discarded for a flashier prize.

I feel like the first arc and some of the second could've been a season by itself. They could've tied up the undercity Vs rich plot, with some form of stalemate or some other conclusion, and shift the focus to the Hextech-arcane plot line, with Jayce's whole speech about unity.

Then the latter half of act 2 and the third act would be a season 3, giving more time and weight to that battle and the factors surrounding it, while also showing the results of the previous parts.

I do wonder if there was an ultimatum where we get one season with lesbians or no lesbians and more seasons, where the former was chosen, but that's just conspiracy and speculation.

All in all, it's a beautiful show that had a lot of potential, but rushed and botched something they could've milked for one more season, for the money's sake, if not for good plot. If my points are dissuaded by any things I missed, please do let me know.

I did enjoy the show immensely and it was a good time overall. I'm in love with the characters and their dynamics and the setting and the art and animation, the soundtrack, it may have not made sense, but by god was it beautiful.

[magicicephoenix]

(dca who au) has Moon ever forgotten Sun during a regeneration? and also does Sun go through the same type of protocol for regeneration?

all Time Lords have the same Regeneration Protocol. it’s a hard coded (pun intended) part of the species!

[intotheelliwoods]

Collaborative 2AL Comic Calling and Info!

Oh BOY did this blow up...

Ive polished up dialogue and framing, in total there should be 30 panels, exactly the tumblr image limit haha! Everyone who is participating gets to draw a panel! I will message you the dialogue, and a general layout once I get everyone in! :) I look forward to this!

30/30 Participants [full!]

If you are interested in joining, please message me here on tumblr or Discord! [Discord would be preferred in the long run]

--------

-> Deadline for panels?

2 Weeks! Hoping everything can be ready to go to post by September 24th!

---

-> What style to use?

Your own! I would love it if you can have as much fun as you can making the panel! The more unique each panel is the better, I dont want to constrict anyones artistic ability outside dialogue, where characters are in a room, and a vague framing idea/expressions.

As for coloring, fully colored and digital would be preferred! Just blue blobs can also work! With the exception of 4 specific panels, flashback panels, in a black/white/red scheme to help differentiate what panel is a flashback, and what panel isnt. I will let you know if your panel is one of those specific 4!

---

-> How will posting and crediting work?

When the panels are all done, I will gather them up into a singular post on this blog. Below the comic itself in order of panels would be everyones @ to the blog they want credited, Multiple blogs can also be credited ofc (For example If you drew panel 3 you will be the third @ on the list)

You are also free to add a signature or @ to your blog in the panel art itself!

[maddymoreau]

My Thoughts on Poppy Playtime Chapter 3

Ollie is ADORABLE!!!! "No ouchies or lost body parts?" HE'S A BABY I NEED TO PROTECT!!!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!! (¬‿¬) I have ZERO evidence for this but my theory is he’s The Prototype.

I’m REALLY happy to see the phone Ollie calls the player on is identical to the one in Project: Playtime! It’s nice seeing stuff introduced in Project: Playtime finally appear in the main series.

( ⚆_⚆ ) ESPECIALLY DR. HARLEY SAWYER!!!! WOW THE TAPE FEATURING HIM TALKING TO THE PROTOTYPE WAS DARK!!!! I knew a man like Dr. Sawyer would be a sick and twisted individual since he created the Bigger Bodies Initiative.

Despite that I was NOT prepared to hear the joy in his voice to experiment on children. It was revolting.

This exchange:

Prototype: "You stick us. Beat us. Tear at flesh. Do you feel it?"

Dr. Sawyer: "There is a secret inside you, 1006. Valuable beyond all measure. I cut and prod and burn at it, and I get closer with each session . . . So speak, or don't. Fight, or give in. Regardless, I learn something new about you every day . . . (Laughs) It excites me!"

Prototype: "Thank you."

Dr. Sawyer: "You . . . thank me?"

Prototype: "Absolutely. I learn something new about you every day."

THAT FINAL LINE WHEN THE PROTOTYPE IS MIMICKING DR. SAWYER'S VOICE AHHHHHH!!!!

＿|￣|○ I WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO DR. SAWYER SO BADDDDD!!!!!! He wasn’t around for The Hour of Joy but I hope he suffered.

Leith Pierre: "Normally I'd have Dr. Sawyer do this but he's uhhh . . . out, let's say. So you got me until they find his replacement."

(o ´ _ ` )o The contrast between how Dr. Sawyer speaks to the experiments VS Leith Pierre the Head of Innovation at Playtime Co.

Both dehumanize the experiments in different ways.

Leith Pierre can’t even bother remembering Catnap's real name. He puts on this fake friendly facade. Referring to Catnap as his Pal and Buddy. It's so disingenuous.

Especially when he asks, "Heya Theo! How ya doin' bud?" Pierre could care less about how Catnap feels. It's only when Catnap responds, "The Prototype will save us." That gets Pierre to finally drops the corporate spiel. Admitting to what this place is. Catnap’s prison.

No wonder Catnap worshipped The Prototype after being save when this is what he’s told about his horrific situation.

Leith Pierre: "THIS is your life now. Get used to it."

I absolutely LOVED all the new features for the Grab Pack. The air jet looked SO FUN!!!! Watching people desperately shoot the flare gun against smiling critters in a cramped space WAS SO INTENSE!!! The smiling critter's small growls and whimpers made me sad.

(ʃƪ 〃’▽’〃)♡ The horror in this chapter was INCREDIBLE!!!! While I had fun playing Chapter 2 I remember feeling disappointed by the scares.

CHAPTER THREE HAD ME HORRIFIED!!!! EVERY JUMP SCARE HAD ME FLYING OUT MY CHAIR, THE ATMOSPHERE WAS AMAZING AND AHHHHH THE HOME ORPHANAGE SECTION!!!!!

It reminded me of PT ∑(; °_°) Especially with the radio informing us that in Elliot Ludwig's house it was discovered he HAD THE BODY OF A CHILD IN A DUFFLE BAG!!?!?!?!?!?!

ALSO THAT ONE RADIO'S REVERSE MESSAGE!!!

"8-8-1995 I find your presence intrusive. After all this time you return. You come in here and yet you kill and murder. You pilate and destroy. Your presence was demanded 10 years ago and yet you didn't show up . . . 8-8-1995 You were supposed to be here. Why weren't you here? You missed the event. You missed the meeting. You missed the party. You have no right to be here . . ."

AHHHHHH MOBGAMES KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING WITH THE LIGHTING IN THIS SCENE!!!!!

I thought I was going to see MY BOY 😭💔!!!!!!

Huggy Wuggy is completely fine.

Kissy Missy was so sad and adorable in this chapter. Seeing her stare at the picture and hug herself BROKE MY HEART ( o̴̶̷᷄ _ o̴̶̷̥᷅ )!!! She deserves the world.

Catnap acting like a child and avoiding school 😭💔

Miss Delight was a minor spoiler I knew about since people used her face in their thumbnail. However I was NOT prepared for her to act like a Coil-Head!!!!

Theodore being described as antisocial and having a peculiar relationship with an imaginary friend _(:ì」∠)_.

That “imaginary” friend being The Prototype. Who guided Theodore to help them both escape. Only for Theodore to get electrocuted since he was just a child who didn't know how to safely use a Grabpack.

The Prototype throwing away their chance to escape to save Theodore by bringing him to the staff. Showing The Prototype does care in some way.

Only for Theodore to be later turned Catnap.

THEN the player electrocutes Catnap the SAME way Theodore originally received his injuries. The Prototype comes to “save” Theodore once again but this time by making Catnap a part of him AND CATNAP ACCEPTS SO WILLINGLY (˃ ⌑ ˂ഃ )!!!!

It felt like I was watching a religious experience.

I love Poppy Playtime but I do think they show too much in their trailers. Dog day is a great example but even then his scene was *chef kiss*

All the smiling critters crawling inside Dogday as he desperately screamed in agony and for us to run away left me speechless.

I liked the detail of Dogday calling us angel. I'm excited to see all the AUs people create where we save him.

ALSO THE HOUR OF JOY WAS A BLAST TO WATCH!!!!!

I know Poppy is right that it was just senseless slaughter. How all that death didn't fix or help anyone. Especially when it didn't matter if those killed were innocent or not.

However imagining these characters being painfully experimented on and stripped of their autonomy. Going though years of hell and finally reaching their breaking point. It's hard to not feel good for them getting to release that anger. Even if I know it's wrong.

ALSO I GOT TO SEE MY SECOND FAVORITE CHARACTER BOXY BOO YAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!

THERE WAS SOOOOO MUCH HUGGY WUGGY IMAGERY IN THIS CHAPTER AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

I'M GOING TO OVER THINK IT!!!!!! I HAVE NO THEORIES I’M JUST POINTING DETAILS OUT!!!!!!

When hallucinating Huggy Wuggy's face is on the employee training video:

“Join the Innovationists, where the bounds of science are continuously pushed. Or join the Counselors of Playcare, whose diligence and care for our children will help shape a brighter future, just you see.”

“Now every one of you has your part in that future, so should you come back tomorrow feeling unhappy for where you are, or what you’ve done . . . worry not, for your supervisor is here and happy to listen! And . . . should you come back . . . years later . . . your conscience finally getting the better of you. May you descend into the dark and the dust, finding all that awaits you are incomprehensible horrors . . . each hungry for your return, each eager that they might find you. Perhaps they’d smile at you from a shadow, their smiling mouths full of teeth and meat and plastic, watching and waiting patiently for their turn at a warm welcome. Or perhaps they won’t allow you such a time to figure your place in the world you’d left. A world that’s theirs now. Welcome home.”

The video transforms into a manifestation of the player's guilt. Not only for their involvement for whatever they did while working at Playtime Co. but for being gone and returning after ten years.

This is also paired with the player's possible guilt for killing Huggy Wuggy and their fear of him.

The hallucination version being a more exaggerated version of the Chapter 1 Huggy Wuggy vent chase.

When Catnap causes the player to later hallucinate:

Poppy: “Do you even know what’s real?”

Poppy: “No you don’t.”

THEN AT THE END OF THE HALLUCINATION IT SHOWS US THE DAY OF JOY!!!! Which is very odd when you consider two things. We've been told multiple times we weren’t there and during this scene we didn't know what the Hour of Joy was.

So the player hallucinating being in front of Huggy Wuggy’s podium during The Hour of Joy with a large Prototype hand reaching for us IS ODD!!!

ALSO THE TAPE IT SHOWS THAT’S WHERE HUGGY WUGGY WAS DURING THE HOUR OF JOY!!!!!!!

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!?!?!?!

This is just speculation but perhaps the player's memories aren't as trustworthy as we think. After all we still aren't even sure who even sent us the letter or tape in Chapter 1.

"EVERYONE THINKS THE STAFF DISSAPEARED 10 YEARS AGO WE'RE STILL HERE FIND THE FLOWER"

It’s important to point out the characters from Chapter 2 made ZERO appearance during these hallucinations. Mommy Long Legs, PJ Pug-a-Pillar, Bunzo Bunny and the Wack-a-Wuggy.

Is the Huggy Wuggy imagery used because he’s who we encounter at the start of the game?

OR SOMETHING MORE AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

[blueskittlesart]

profs will set the due date for the final as april 24 and then STILL NOT HAVE THE FUCKING ASSIGNMENT UP TO SUBMIT THE PAPER BY 11PM ON APRIL TWENTY FUCKING THIRD

[dravencore]

Hey Knives? You did all that too ❤️