#i loved these books and this world so much
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brattyspence · 3 days ago
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virginia is for lovers | s.reid
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summary: model!reader accidentally exposes their relationship through a soft launch instagram post
tags: model!reader x spencer, penelope included <3, smau
a/n: this is kinda short n pointless but i wanted a reason to write reader tweeting abt spencer and its been in my drafts for weeks so
word count: 1.1k
masterlist
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Spencer had worked hard to keep you a secret. 
Not because he wasn’t thrilled to be in your life, because he really, really was. Historically, things had a tendency to go south as soon as word got out, especially when it came to his personal life. 
You had met in a bookstore. It was a short interaction; you were busy debating which translation of The Stranger was most appropriate to read. You must have been standing in the aisle of the bookstore a little too long, holding two copies side by side, when he had offered his two cents on the matter.
Typically, you weren’t one to entertain conversation in public. Nine times out of ten, you’d get one word in before the inevitable “Please can I take a picture? I love your blog so much!”, but this was different. You weren’t even sure he had even seen your face before he started talking to you. He wasn’t initially trying to hit on you, either. He was genuinely excited that someone was willing to listen to him ramble about the differences between the Ward and Guilbert translations, so when you responded in such a way that asked him to continue on, he was surprised. 
That day, you’d left the store with four more books than intended, and a single bookmark where he had written his phone number after you asked for it.  He had asked you for your name; a confirmation that he actually had no idea who you were. 
The rest was history. You saw him whenever possible, spent nights on the phone together, and flew across the country often just to see him. You loved having a relationship that didn’t need to be public, but you were also excited to share bits of it with the world.
It was late at night, and he was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, trying to finish the last of the paperwork he’d been assigned, when he heard commotion from Penelope’s office. He figured it was nothing new; probably just some news about the royal family or one of the real housewives again, but she’d thrown her door open in such a way that it garnered attention from everyone in the office.
“Spencer Reid,” She gripped her phone and rushed across the room with determination. “Do you have something you want to share with me?”
He looked up from his paperwork, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
“Why are you on my Instagram feed?” She placed her phone on his desk in front of him. 
“I’m not on instagram,” he replied. 
“Oh, but you are,” she said. “You are such a little liar. I can’t wait to tell Derek about this.”
She pushed his paperwork aside, plopping her phone down in front of him. It was a slideshow on instagram. A photo of the most recent bouquet he bought for you. A few from the museum you’d visited together, including several where his hands or shoes were visible, but nothing that really pointed to him. He could almost make the argument Penelope was mistaken, until the last photo, which included just enough of his apartment to confirm her questioning.
“You said you were seeing someone and I thought… someone from a chess tournament, or maybe… oh, I don't know. Literally anyone else? But you bagged a model?” 
“I-” he sighed. “How did you find her?”
“I didn’t find her, Spencer. I’ve followed her for years! I see her posts all the time. I can’t believe you.”
He scrolled down.
liked by @jjareau and others
@yourusername: virginia is for lovers :)                                              posted 12 hours ago
↪ @randomuser1: GIRL STOP TEASING WHO IS HE
↪ @randomuser3: i’ve been trying to figure it out since that tweet last month 😞
↪ @randomuser2: this is the sweetest soft launch i’ve ever seen <3
↪ 12k comments
He clicked onto your profile. 
@yourusername 
5.2M Followers
Followed by @jjareau, @emp.sergio and more
“You’ve got to see her Twitter, lover boy. She’s been gushing about you.”
“Oh, god,” he groans. So much for privacy. He lets her take the phone back, redirecting his attention to your Twitter page. She scrolls back to June before handing it over, letting him read in chronological order.
June 10
@yourusername: hot girl summer is officially over. just asked a man for HIS number.
June 25
@yourusername: is it offensive to men if you call them pretty? bc this man is rlly pretty 
@yourusername: update: apparently it is not :)
July 30:
@yourusername: good morning text + picture of a dog that he claims reminded him of me???? gonna ask for his hand in marriage
August 15
@yourusername: up til 2 bc hes explaining quantum mechanics to me 🧚🏻
@yourusername: embarrassed to say that form of dirty talk worked on me 
August 20
@yourusername: oh btw im a girlfriend now!
↪@yourfan1: look u long enough wtf girl
↪@yourusername: dw im locking him down 🫡
↪@yourfan2: thats OUR man now 💘
“Oh, wow.”
She takes the phone back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me? Oh, this is great news. You’re bringing her to Rossi’s next, week, right?”
“I- Pen, I have no idea.” He laughs. He watches her type away on the device aggressively. “Are you texting everyone?”
“Yuh-huh. I need to call JJ, like… yesterday. And this isn't the end of this conversation!” She darted back into her office quickly, letting the door fall shut behind her.
He decided his remaining paperwork could wait. He packed his things up in a hurry, and decided to head out of the office, dialing your number on the way out. 
You picked up on the first ring. 
“Hey,” you started. “How was work? Are you heading out?”
“Yeah,” He started. He pushed through the glass doors of the office, staring towards the stairwell. “It was… busy. I just had a really interesting conversation with my coworker.”
“Mhm…” You had been lounging in your hotel room waiting for his call. “About..?”
“You, actually.” He replied. “She follows you on instagram. Apparently most of the office does. She showed me your post today.”
“Oh,” you replied. “Oh god, Spence. I’m sorry. I didn’t think… anyone would be able to tell who you were.”
He laughs. “Yeah, well… I work with some… characters. It’s totally fine, though.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, anxiously.
“Yeah. It was cute,” he replied, smiling to himself as he exited the building. “Tasteful.”
“That's what I wanted,” You reply.
“I thought Twitter was much more interesting, though.”
You froze, cringing. “Oh, god. Tell me you didn't read all of it.
He chuckles. “I skimmed it.”
You groan. 
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ak319 · 2 days ago
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Yan Regent Consort x fem reader
Headcanon
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(Warnings: This story contains matriarchal themes, fem dom such as mpreg, fem dominated world, role reversal, and BXG pairing! Yes, it's a boy x girl, so don't interact if you are not comfortable!!)
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Xu Junlai was a boy who held different roles in the eyes of others, son to some, friend to some, an object of admiration or envy to others. He was born into a family of five sons and two daughters. His mother, Xu Huang, served as a minister in the court, while his father, Xu... well, he wasn’t married into the Xu family, he was merely a concubine of Junlai’s mother. Because of this, Junlai never received familial love, not from his step-siblings and not even from his mother, who was always either too busy or uninterested in family matters. Her absence from his life gave his brothers free rein to treat him as they pleased.
His oldest sibling was his sister, Xu Tai, whom everyone feared. She didn’t particularly dote on him, but she maintained order in the household whenever she returned from her training and service in the army. Xu Tai had high ambitions for the country, aspiring one day to become a commander or much better a General. His other sister, Xu Ai, was studying to be a scholar; she was a year older than Junlai, who himself was the second youngest in the family.
Junlai had long learned that if he didn’t stand up for himself and speak for himself, he would live a life of misery and eventually die alone, perhaps with no one to mourn his passing. So, he did speak for himself when necessary. A hard life had forced him into this role. It wasn’t as if anyone liked him before, or that he had earned any respect, so what was there to lose?
He had passions that he quietly pursued, calligraphy, reading books, sneakily borrowing them from Tai’s library at the estate and, most importantly, dancing. Yet he was made fun of, and ridiculed for his interests.
“Your father was a prostitute, and you doing this seems to scream that you are on the same path. You disgrace,” his stepfather, Xu Fen, sneered. But his words never truly hurt Junlai.
“But your sons are learning such skills too. Are they on the same path?”
“THEY ARE NOT! They are doing that so that when the time arises, they will be presented to the court for the new Empress and her harem. That is where their skills will shine; being a Xu, that is inevitable. You, however…”
“Mother may not have married my father, but she openly acknowledged that I have been granted the name Xu.”
“So? What are you--oh--so you want to enter the court? That might be the funniest thing I’ve heard this week. Part of the reason your presence here is sometimes bearable. Have you seen yourself? There is nothing graceful about you, such venomous features, that blank face, eyes like a devil’s. You are someone any woman would avoid, not bed.” Fen’s cackles echoed in the distance as Junlai stood in the garden, his usual blank expression firmly in place.
The court? But he didn’t desire any of that. That was a life of hell. As if my life is better now... Harem or no harem, at least he could demonstrate his skills and take a jab at his useless brothers. Perhaps that was the most thrilling part of it all. There was absolutely no chance that an Empress or even the Emperor Dowager would allow the son of a prostitute to enter the harem.
So, Junlai practised night after night, in the empty hall that felt both sacred and suffocating. The flickering candles cast shadows that danced like ghosts on the walls, whispering secrets of long-forgotten elegance. The sound of anklets chimed like distant bells, while the rustle of silken fabric filled the air, wrapping around him like a lover’s embrace. In the dim light, his body became a fluid extension of art, each movement imbued with a haunting beauty that could draw anyone into his graceful orbit. And perhaps, just perhaps, the voice that emerged from his lips was powerful enough to ensnare even the coldest of hearts.
But one fateful night, when he miraculously received permission from his mother to join the ceremony, everything changed. Three of his brothers discovered him lost in his usual routine, an ethereal vision in the half-light. As always, he expected their laughter, their scorn, but no... that night, the hall, once a sanctuary, transformed into a chamber of horrors.
Instead of melodies, the air was filled with his screams as they pinned him down, the laughter of his brothers echoing like a dark symphony. They poured scalding water over his feet, the pain searing through him, brutal and unrelenting--just a week before the ceremony.
═════ ◈ ═════
The day of the ceremony arrived, and you, the new Empress, had only been on the throne for a year after successfully defeating your sisters for the throne. However you were overwhelmed by the throng of men entering your court, you sat in silence, your mind already planning the next day's work while subtly noting the movements and behaviours of your court members.
The musical festivities began, likely your father's favorite part, as it allowed him to exert his influence over the affairs of the men. You had little energy to deal with such trivialities, and the classification of men in this way unsettled you. Your mother was deeply involved in it all, and you loathed the thought of it.
"Those are the sons of the Xu family, good-looking, aren't they?" your father remarked, his voice dripping with expectation. Your head snapped to his direction, and for a fleeting moment, you glanced at the display before you.
“Um, yes,” you replied, your tone devoid of enthusiasm.
Your father internally rolled his eyes at your lacklustre response. You might have bedded a few men and have a son with one of the concubines, but it was clear you weren’t taking any of them seriously. 'This idiot daughter of mine, clearly not worried about not having an heir still. By now your mother would have had three-'
"They came for you, so at least enjoy it a bit. If you prefer any changes, the music, the dance-"
"It's fine, Father. It's fine."
You granted your approval to Xu Huang in the end, an honest minister in your eyes, someone even your mother trusted. Her daughter, Tai, was a formidable warrior, perhaps the first to impress you with her skills.
As dinner commenced, no one anticipated the doors to swing open once more. A lone figure stepped into the hall, drawing everyone's attention, including yours. He was slender, his long hair tousled—surprisingly beautiful even in such disarray. Those eyes of his, empty yet hauntingly deep, bore into yours with an intensity that both intrigued and unsettled you.
His walk was seductive yet exuded an aura of defeat and determination. Silence enveloped the hall, a palpable tension as he stood in the centre, commanding attention. That’s when you noticed his feet, bare and crimson. You were certain that if you looked closer, you would see the dark stains of blood marring his skin.
It felt as though the entire court was holding its breath, waiting for you to question him. Just then, you caught the whisper of Xu Huang, “Son…” from her seat a few feet away.
Her son?
"Are you... Xu’s son?" you inquired, your curiosity piqued.
He nodded.
“Um--your Majesty, he was sick, so he couldn't perform earlier, although his name was registered on the list by me…” Xu Huang explained, her voice steady yet tinged with concern. You responded with a curt nod, your mind racing.
“If you are sick, then you shouldn’t be here,” you asserted, a protective instinct rising within you. You were certain the sickness plagued his feet. There was no way you would allow him to dance under such conditions.
“I want to dance,” he replied, his voice challenging and unwavering.
The spark in his tone caught you off guard. What an odd boy...
“Very well. Then do. I would like to see you dance,” you commanded, a blend of intrigue fluttering in your chest
“Your Majes-” Xu Huang began, but your glare silenced her immediately.
“Begin.”
As the sounds of the pipa and hulusi filled the hall, an almost electric hush fell over the audience. Everyone shifted their attention from their meals to the boy dancing, his presence so captivating that even your father, Wang Hua, sat bewildered. A simmering anger brewed within him as he grappled with his own intrigue. Are you seriously interested in him?
Though Hua possessed some knowledge about the boy, witnessing the fluidity and artistry of his dance made those thoughts melt away. Junlai moved as if in a trance, each motion a hauntingly beautiful expression that stirred something deep within you. The performance was mesmerizing, drawing you into a world that felt both ethereal and painfully real.
The only glimmer of envy and fury came from Junlai’s own brother and step-father, their faces twisted in disdain as they seethed at the spectacle before them. Even the blood that dripped from Junlai’s feet onto the glass-like floor seemed to only heighten their ire. They couldn’t maintain your gaze for even a moment, while Junlai seemed to command the room effortlessly, as if reigning over it with merely a flick of his wrist.
As the final echoes of Junlai’s performance faded, your ears, now deprived of the boy’s beautiful voice, were met once again with a profound silence that enveloped the hall.
Junlai stood with his gaze cast down, a picture of humility, while you rose from the podium, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. A ripple of anticipation swept through the crowd, their eyes wide with curiosity about what would unfold next. To your surprise, the boy barely flinched as you stood before him, towering over his slight frame.
“Name?” you inquired, your voice steady.
“Junlai,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
“And who did this to you...?” You leaned closer, searching his eyes for the truth.
His neutral gaze met yours, and you sensed a flicker of vulnerability beneath his composed exterior.
“People... whom I would rather not talk about on such a glorious day... a day for you, my Majesty.” He lowered himself in a respectful bow, his head tilting downward, yet his posture remained defiantly graceful.
“Is that so...?” you mused, glancing at Naun, your attendant, who stood discreetly behind a pillar to your left. She nodded subtly, understanding the unspoken command in your gaze.
This boy not only is now part of your harem but...your choice for the night.
You were resolute, you would not entertain the other sons of the Xu family. What need had you for them? Junlai’s dance eclipsed all of theirs combined, a testament to his raw talent and spirit. You were not greedy, you simply sought the best. And he was not only the best but also intriguingly peculiar, a captivating boy you were eager to indulge in and explore further.
As you crawled on top of him, Junlai had been cleaned and prepared for your gaze, yet a small part of you missed his disheveled appearance, the wild, untamed beauty that spoke of his struggles. You soothed yourself with the reminder that he would soon return to that captivating state.
“When I asked you about the culprits, you didn’t name them. You don’t want me to punish them?” you murmured, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek, relishing the softness of his skin as he leaned into your rough hand.
“But you already have... by choosing me,” he replied, a hint of defiance in his voice. You couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound deep and rich. “You are... something, you know. I have never encountered a boy like you... but I always wanted to.”
“I never wanted this... to be in the bed of an empress, in her harem, but here I am…” His words hung in the air, laced with a surprising confidence. Something about you made him bold enough to voice such thoughts. You didn’t seem as cold and cruel as the whispers suggested, those comparisons to your mother fading in the warmth of his gaze.
Your deep chuckle reverberated against his neck, sending shivers coursing through his body. “Oh, how lucky I am then. More fortunate than any empress, for having caught you.” You pulled away slightly to meet his eyes, searching for the flicker of fear, but finding only intrigue. “Being in a harem means being mine, and I take care of what I own.”
“Do you fear me, Junlai?” you asked, your voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. “You should...."
His heart raced at the challenge in your tone. “I don’t fear you, your Majesty. I only fear what I might become under your rule,” he replied, daring to meet your intense gaze.
“Ah, but isn’t that the thrill of it all?” You leaned in closer, your lips brushing tantalizingly against his ear as you spoke. A gasp left his plump lips as you nibbled on it.
Junlai’s breath quickened as your gaze pierced into him, as if you were seeing not just the boy he was but the depths of his soul. The air thickened with an intoxicating blend of fear and desire. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, enveloping him in a cocoon of both safety and peril.
Your fingers danced down his arm, tracing delicate patterns that ignited his skin, setting his nerves alight. Junlai's breath hitched as he felt the heat of your body press against him, a heady mix of power and vulnerability.
“Do you see how beautifully broken you are?” you continued, your voice low and mesmerizing.
Junlai felt the walls around his heart tremble, caught in the magnetic pull of your words. “What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the challenge now tinged with uncertainty.
“Everything.” Your lips curled into a wicked smile, a promise of the chaos to come. “I want your loyalty, your obedience, and most importantly, your heart. I will not only keep you in my harem, I will make you my most cherished treasure.”
As you leaned closer again, your lips tantalizingly brushing against his, he could feel the weight of your intentions, his robe being done deftly by your rough fingers. “Now, are you ready to dance for me?” you asked, your eyes glinting with mischief and hunger."
Junlai nodded, a flicker of excitement igniting within him. At that moment, he was no longer just a boy marked by pain, he was a dancer, ready to twirl and leap into the unknown, to be claimed by you.
═════ ◈ ═════
Junlai sat in the veranda, gazing out at the distant mountains with a forlorn expression, his slender fingers tapping absently on the polished wooden rail. Though the quarters designated for the favored concubine were lavish, adorned with silks and priceless porcelain, the space felt hollow without you. If only he could give you a daughter, the coveted title of consort would be his. The thought flitted through his mind like an unreachable dream. And yet, as the days stretched into months, it was your absence that gnawed at him, leaving him restless and aching.
God, when would you return from the campaign? Two months had passed, each day heavier than the last. He endured the whispers, and the scorn from the other concubines who mocked him for his damaged feet, but he bore it all without flinching. He knew you valued him for his skill, his grace, the things that went beyond mere perfection. You had appointed the empire's finest healers to tend to him, a silent reassurance that he still held a place in your heart.
Even the Emperor Dowager, shrewd and discerning, seemed to favour him, perhaps because he respected his daughter's choices or was mesmerized by his art. Either way, his endorsement granted him a measure of safety within the harem’s hostile world. And yet, safety was far from his mind. He spent sleepless nights worrying about you, imagining the dangers you might face, each possible harm a dagger in his chest. His own safety meant nothing if you were not there, by his side, safe and triumphant. He danced in the empty hall , every night, all night even. His gaze at the marble wall at the end, imagining you sitting in your throne watching his performance. Every word, every step a testimony for your longing. If anyone else saw him at night , they would be scared for their life.
A boy dancing as if he was possessed.
What had he become? Another lovesick boy, a fool just like his father, infatuated, aching, lost to his devotion. He had once vowed never to become so vulnerable, and yet here he was, the intensity of his love binding him more than duty or obligation ever could. He used to revel in this power, at first motivated by pride, even defiance, to show his brothers that he had won something they could never touch. But now, with every beat of his heart, every drop of his blood, he was wholly, helplessly, irrevocably yours.
Although not long ago, one significant shift rippled through the palace, Xu Tai, the skilled warrior whose loyalty you trusted, was now appointed as General. Junlai took comfort in this news. His sister's allegiance was unwavering, and her impressive abilities spoke for themselves. You chose her for her skill and integrity, qualities Junlai respected, and even admired from afar. He knew that with Tai at the helm, your interests, and your life, were in capable hands.
He hadn’t anticipated finding peace in such a development, yet knowing Tai held this position gave him a strange sense of relief. However when he just received a letter from Tai herself, that sense of relief seemed to diminish.
You had been poisoned by an arrow at the battlefield. Thankfully the physician present did their best to take it out but it was unknown if you would come back alive. The news was also sent to the Emperor and eventually spread over the harem and then the country.
The news struck the palace like a tempest. Word spread first as whispers in dimly lit corridors, then as gasps behind silken fans, until eventually, the rumours became cries of despair from every corner of the empire. The Empress has been poisoned, they said, her life teetering on the edge. The harem held its breath, the concubines offering quiet prayers. Yet amidst them all, Junlai felt as though his entire world had shattered.
Days passed in agonizing limbo, and Junlai clung to any scrap of information he could gather. The air in his chambers grew thick with dread, the whispers of the other concubines like needles against his skin. Would she return? Could she survive this? He tried to still his racing heart, to banish the wretched possibilities that plagued him day and night, but his mind clung stubbornly to images of your pale face, the way you looked as he’d last seen you, strong, assured, untouchable.
But now, you were mortal. Wounded. Vulnerable.
He’d never felt so powerless. Each night he would sit in the garden, his injured feet barely feeling the cold stone beneath them as he gazed at the stars, praying fervently for your safety. Let her come back to me, he whispered into the darkness. Take my health, my strength, take anything you want, but let her live.
The news of the looming threat reached the palace in the dead of night, casting a shadow over an already grief-stricken palace. The Chief Minister summoned her closest advisors including Xu Huang, the walls of the council chamber echoing with grave voices as they strategized. The Wei Dynasty had betrayed them, their forces striking not only on the battlefield but now threatening the heart of the empire, taking advantage of your absence. This insidious plot was spearheaded by the rebel leader Guo Wang, a lecherous woman of ruthless ambition and bloodthirsty intent. Her name alone sent ripples of fear through the court, her reputation for savagery preceding her.
The capital was left vulnerable in a way it hadn’t been for years. With Tai, your most loyal and capable General, at your side on the battlefield, and your position as Empress left temporarily vacant, the capital was guarded only by lesser warriors and the remaining commanders, a force barely sufficient for an ambush of this scale.
Junlai’s despair deepened. He had kept his composure in the wake of your injury, holding fast to the hope that you would return to him. But now the looming threat to the capital turned that sorrow into fear and fury. He knew what would come if Guo Wang breached the palace walls, the carnage that woman would wreak upon all in her path. The court, the innocents of the capital, and, he shuddered, the vulnerable harem.
He understood now what his sister had never fully articulated, the key to victory was not in repeating the old ways, but in disrupting the enemy's expectations. And Guo Wang’s forces? They would be expecting the standard defences. They would expect the palace to hide behind walls, women in armour standing guard at every gate. That was their mistake. Junlai knew better. But being a man and more so a mere consort was something that Junlai couldn't change. Nobody would listen to him. Two weeks left before the Guo reaches them even if Tai had sent for backup to the capital, it would have taken them a bit longer to get here.
No, he would not let this slide. The audacity to kill you , trying to take you AWAY FROM HIM!?. He will fucking lay corpses upon corpses of these disgusting pieces of filth. He will BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!
"I will not rest until I see you fall, Guo Wang..."
═════ ◈ ═════
"Mother, please. Trust me. You have to listen-"
"Your only job is to stay here, in the harem, and bear her children! Leave the military and court decisions to the court and the Empress."
Xu Huang froze, his chest tightening at the cold dismissal. His mother, ever so pragmatic, always intent on keeping him within the narrow boundaries of what was deemed acceptable for someone of his position. But tonight, he couldn’t bear it anymore. The years of suffocating silence, the weight of expectations that had been placed on him, all of it came crashing down in a wave of defiance.
"BUT I AM DOING THIS FOR THE EMPRESS!" His voice rang out, sharp and unforgiving. Xu Huang recoiled as if struck, the shock of his outburst still fresh in the air. But his fury only seemed to fuel him further. "Her Majesty’s court, her harem... I will not let some barbarian come in and tear it all apart. And don’t forget it, Mother!" He took a step forward, his voice thick with venom, his eyes burning with a passion he hadn’t allowed himself to show before. The tears were a mask, barely held together by his pride.
"I WILL protect her, and I WILL protect this dynasty."
He let his words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of their implications. He stood taller now, a dangerous glint in his eye, as he moved closer, letting the venomous truth seep into every syllable. "As for bearing children, oh sure, I will. But I won’t do it for you. I’ll do it for ME. For MY future. I’ll be elevated, not you. You will always remain a slave to the system, while I may one day be a part of the Wang dynasty. And you know what that could mean." His voice dropped to a low, almost mocking tone. "How do you think Tai became the General? If I can place someone on the board, I can just as easily toss them out."
There was a flicker of uncertainty in Xu Huang’s eyes at the mention of Tai, but it was quickly masked. He knew the truth, he had no such influence, but the bluff was enough. It was enough to make his mother tremble. The stoic, unflinching woman who had held him back his entire life now looked unsure, her hands gripping the edge of the table as if seeking something to steady herself.
"What are you proposing?" Her voice, cold as ever, betrayed the slight quiver in her tone. She had heard his words, but was she truly willing to listen?
Junlai smirked, the edge of triumph curling at the corners of his lips. "Now, we are talking."
═════ ◈ ═════
Junlai had always been more than just a skilled dancer; his mind was a sharp, calculating instrument that never ceased its relentless pursuit of efficiency and innovation. While the others focused on traditional warfare, the old strategies, sieging, ambushing, and brute force, Junlai saw only limitations. What he needed was an advantage that would catch their enemies off guard, something that no one had considered. The answer, as it often was, lay in nature.
Birds.
The idea came to him one evening while he watched the flock of crows circling above the harem. Their wings cutting through the air with precision, their effortless movement, a pattern of chaos within perfect order. It wasn't just the birds that caught his attention, but the fact that they held the power to burn.
In the markets, there had been whispers of incendiary techniques used by distant lands, fire-starting mechanisms using birds trained to carry torches. The court dismissed this concept as superstition, yet to Junlai, it was a brilliant, unrecognised weapon.
Junlai would need to launch the birds at night when the enemy's defences were at their weakest. The element of surprise would be vital, he knew that as soon as the birds were released, they would need to fly directly to their targets, avoiding the natural predators and the dangers of interception. So he had the women train them, following his instructions.
He took advantage of the dark sky, the birds’ natural night-flying abilities, to send them directly into the heart of Guo Wang’s camp. The wind, as if in cooperation with his plan, would be at their backs, ensuring that the fires would spread faster.
The moment the birds were released, the chaos began.
As the trained crows took flight, their wings slicing through the air like silent messengers of destruction, the fire lit up, first softly, then raging. Guo Wang's forces had no warning, no time to react. They watched in horror as the embers from above ignited their tents, their supplies, and worst of all, their weapons.
The women who had been enlisted as fighters, strong in their defiance but unprepared for such an assault, panicked as the fire spread, consuming their weapons and armour. Their leaders scrambled, but the flames had already done the work. The camp was ablaze, confusion and terror rippling through the ranks. The birds had burned their half camp, crippled their supply chain, and taken away the one thing they held most precious, control.
Thus, it made it easier for the soldiers to attack Guo's forces and easily win. Junlai watched with pride as he saw Guo's head impaled and being paraded around inside the castle's walls. A perfect homecoming gift for you. A gift to prove that he was not just a man in your harem, but someone who would do anything to ensure your reign remained unchallenged. Which made him again fall into a pit of worry for your return.
"Her Majesty has returned!" one of the attendants announced, her voice echoing down the hall.
Junlai stood in the corridor of the harem, his heart pounding in his chest. He had not realized how much he had missed you until the news arrived, that you were finally returning from the battlefield, victorious, but at a terrible cost. The victory meant nothing if it came at the cost of your well-being.
He watched from the shadows with along with other concubines as you entered, your face a bit pale but overall with no less than a sturdy and imperial aura. Your steps echoed in the hall as you greeted your father, your son and for a fleeting moment, met his gaze.
His mind was torn between wanting to rush to you and knowing that you would hate such an open display. So, he waited, watching, every fibre of his being aching to be near you.
And you called him finally, after two painful days.
"I... Your Majesty," Junlai's voice cracked slightly, betraying his calm facade. He couldn't hide the flood of emotions that coursed through him, the concern, the longing, the worry. He took another step closer, his voice low, "You came back... but how long will it take until you're truly well again?"
You always held yourself in such high regard, and the idea of being seen as anything less than the Empress was a bitter pill to swallow.
"I am better," you said, your tone firm, but Junlai could see the exhaustion etched into your features. "The battle was won, and my soldiers did well. That's enough for me."
Junlai stood in front of you now, so close that he could reach out and touch you if he dared. His gaze softened even further, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, him staring into your eyes, his heart heavy with the thoughts he didn’t dare speak aloud. Then he was finally graced with your embrace causing him to breakdown.
"Whatever it takes. Just... don’t push yourself too hard. You need rest." He whispered getting his act together.
You gestured for him to sat beside you on the bed. "I heard from Father...about what you did." He gulped, his form of being just...a boy in love under your gaze.
"I... I just... couldn't-- I had to! I did it all in fear of what might... happen..." You raised his chin.
"You didn't do it for love, then?"
"Of course I did! I did it for you only!" He grasped your hand against his cheek, his eyes filling with tears, his voice breaking at every word. "You... have no idea... what... torture it was for me to live after knowing that happened to you... my Queen. It was worse than death itself."
A hint of a smile graced your lips. "I am proud of you. I am... proud of my choice too..." You gazed lovingly at his face and wiped his tears, pulling his frail body to your chest. "Tai told me you... always had an interest in warfare... sneaked in to read her books."
His heart stopped. His sister... knew? All this time... she did? Yet she...
"Um... I--- yes." His whole body shivered when your deep chuckle traveled to every cell in his body.
"I have made a... decision."
His hands fisted your tunic in anticipation. "You will be the Regent consort here when I am away. You will manage the harem, manage the safety of the capital, it's people. Charities and all."
Junlai’s heart skipped a beat. His initial instinct was to deny, to say that it was nothing, that he just did his duty and wanted nothing more than to be a mere slave to your love. But the way you spoke to him with a glint of respect, of something more than just duty, it made him pause.
You saw him. Truly saw him.
He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the trembling in his hands, the heat in his chest. Regent consort. The title echoed in his mind like a promise, like a dream he had never dared to imagine. No man had ever had it...it didn't even exist until now. He would be the first man in history to have that. He will be known by every generation to come..
"But--but I... I don't deserve it," he stammered, the weight of your approval sinking into him. "I am... only a concubine, someone who had no right to such a role. You shouldn't place such responsibility on me."
You leaned closer, your fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture, lifting his gaze with a gentle but firm pressure. "You don’t need to deserve it, Junlai," you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of your conviction. "You have already proven your loyalty, your cunning, and your heart."
You emphasized with a small but significant shift in tone, "You are my mind in the harem. You will ensure that my absence does not shake the foundations of this dynasty. You will stand guard over the people, the capital... everything I’ve worked for."
Junlai’s hands clenched tighter around your tunic as he processed the weight of your words. The enormity of the role, the responsibility, it was almost too much. But the way you spoke, the way you believed in him, gave him a strength he didn’t know he had.
"Are you afraid?" you asked, your voice soft but direct, your eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made his knees weak.
He paused, feeling a swirl of emotions churn in his chest. Fear. Desire. Ambition. Hope. They all mixed together until he couldn’t tell where one feeling ended and another began. But he was honest with you, always. "Yes," he said simply. "I am afraid. But if it means standing by your side... I will do whatever it takes."
You smiled at him, a slow, dangerous smile that made his breath catch in his throat. "Good," you said, leaning in closer, your voice dropping to a low murmur and pulled him in for a gentle kiss.
He had never imagined that the harem would become more than just a gilded cage. He had never imagined that he would be the one trusted to hold the reins when you were away. But now, it felt like everything was changing.
He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt, any hesitation. But there was none. Only a quiet confidence that he knew, deep down, was meant for him.
"I won’t let you down," he whispered, his voice steady with determination, even as the weight of his new role settled over him like a mantle. "I will protect everything you’ve built, Empress. And I will make sure that no one dares challenge your rule."
You let out a satisfied sigh, your fingers trailing down the length of his arm as you leaned back, taking in the sight of him, your trusted consort, your mind in the harem.
His eyes softened, and for the first time since the battle, since everything had changed, he felt a flicker of peace settle in his chest. There was no going back now. But for the first time, he didn’t want to. He had you. And that was all that mattered.
Junlai leaned into you then, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath steadying as he let himself savor the moment, the moment where everything shifted, where he was no longer just a boy in your harem but the one who would protect everything you held dear.
Though, he mustn't forget one last thing~~
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"Ju-nlai?" Xu Fen stammered, his face twisting into an expression of disbelief. The boy, no, the boy, who once knelt before him, who had suffered beneath his cruelty, now stood in front of him as a figure that exuded nothing but cold authority. The sight rattled Fen to his core.
Junlai’s gaze locked onto him, dead and distant, as though he were staring through him. “I came to meet my brothers,” he said, his voice as calm as the still waters of a lake, but carrying the weight of a storm hidden just beneath the surface.
“Oh really? Why is that?” Fen’s words dripped with thinly veiled disdain, though his insides were anything but calm. He took a cautious step backward, uncertain of what Junlai intended. The boy had always been an afterthought, a lesser player in the family’s schemes. But that had changed, and Fen knew it.
Junlai’s eyes flickered over the room, moving like cold knives, and finally settled on the women standing behind him. His gaze was hollow, merciless. “Are you going to bring them out, or...?" His words trailed off, but the implication was clear. He wasn’t asking, he was commanding. His tone had a chilling finality, as though the fate of everyone in that room rested solely in his hands now.
Fen felt the air constrict around him, the tension thickening with each passing second. He swallowed hard, unable to hide his discomfort. With a reluctant sigh and a sour expression, he turned on his heel and went to summon the others, though it pained him to do so. He knew it was futile to resist. The man who stood in his mansion now was not the boy he had once controlled but something far more dangerous.
Minutes passed, each one dragging as Fen stood nervously, but when the Xu brothers arrived, they entered with a mixture of curiosity and defiance. They were offended, of course, by Junlai’s sudden appearance, but there was a deeper undercurrent of fear in their eyes
"Same as always..." Junlai murmured to himself, but his smile, if it could even be called that, was something else entirely. It was a sharp, knowing grin, filled with something dangerous. His voice rose, becoming almost melodic in its dark amusement. "Which is going to make it more fun!"
For the first time in the Xu household, the black sheep of the family, Junlai, let out a laugh, but it was no ordinary laugh. It was a hollow, manic laugh that seemed to echo off the walls. The sound was unsettling, almost inhuman, a reminder of the twisted journey that had led him to this moment.
Junlai’s eyes never left them as he spoke again, his voice low and chilling. “You see… I’ve come to remind you what happens when you think you can break me. You’ve burned me before… but now, I’m going to return the favour.”
Fen’s heart skipped a beat. He had always thought he could control Junlai, keep him beneath his bootheel. He had been wrong.
“Now, I think it’s time for you to understand what it feels like.”
It took one subtle gesture from Junlai and the guards moved quickly, and efficiently, grabbing the Xu brothers and laying them down on the floor. Their hands were bound, their legs spread wide, and Junlai’s eyes glinted with a dangerous gleam as he stepped closer, his boots making a soft but deliberate thud with each step. The room seemed to grow colder.
"No--p-please...forgive them...NO! I BEG YOU!" Fen's voice mixed with his son's pleas as well which earned him a slap from Junlai. That was all it took to reduce them to sobs and whimpers.
"Shut your fucking mouth, whore. And watch." He dug his hands into Fen's hair and steadied him beside himself. "Look, how cute they look." He giggled.
The guard poured more water onto the brothers' feet, the boiling liquid now bubbling and splashing as it engulfed their limbs. The screams grew louder, desperate. One of the brothers jerked against his restraints, his body writhing in pain, but there was nowhere to go. Fen could hear their flesh sizzling, the sound of raw skin peeling and blistering under the scalding heat. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He had put them through this once before. Now it was his turn to witness the consequences. God, he always loved fire and its power. In fact, he began to see himself in it. Agile, dangerous, unyielding and most importantly, passionate when it came to you.
Fen watched, trembling, as the heat of the water burned into the skin of his sons. Junlai stood tall, his form casting a long shadow over the brothers writhing in pain, and spoke in a voice that resonated with unrelenting authority: “Let this be a reminder, boys." As he turned to leave, his guards following behind him, the sound of his laughter lingered in the air, a dark, triumphant melody that filled the hearts of those who heard it with dread.
Now is the turn of some concubines who have been acting up recently in your absence. Surely, they won't mind a little visit, right?
"Everyone stresses out your father soo much, don't they?" He cooed , caressing his flat abdomen as he settled in the carriage.
Nevertheless, it's all entertainment for him.
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cressidagrey · 1 day ago
Text
It's a Love Story - Chapter 7
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Also Retconning from Nesta's Spring Birthday to like late November, just because otherwise my plot doesn't work.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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Sky had kinda waited for the two of them to have screeching arguments…as soon as the happy bubble of a new mating bond fell away. 
But…nothing of that sort had happened.
“Let’s just keep it just for us for a little while,” he had whispered and she had agreed, curled up in his arms. Just them.
Just for a little while. Nobody else’s opinion did really matter after all. And she knew that there would be numerous opinion be had about the fact that hse had met her mate and then moved in with him in the span of less than a day…and that the two of them were utterly and deliriously happy since then. 
Just the two of them - at least for a little while longer. Sky knew that they would have to tell their friends and family eventually, that they couldn't stay in their little bubble forever, but she was in no rush. The world could wait. For now, she was perfectly content to just be with Azriel.
And they didn’t fight. About anything. 
It was...weird. 
She was waiting for arguments. She was waiting for screaming and to be told that she wasn’t enough…for him to finally realie that he had made a grave mistake…but nothing happened. 
He didn’t care that she stuffed all his bookcases with her books…or rather that his shadows did, painstakingly replicating the order she had had in her little apartment. 
Azriel even made nice with Hector and bought him tuna, jut for her sake…
She had caught Azriel and Hector curled up on the couch together last week - Azriel reading a book and Hector sprawled on his lap. She'd stared at them for a long moment. He had let Hector drool all over his shirt. Azriel had looked up at her with a sheepish grin when he noticed her staring. "He's very cuddly," he'd said, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.
Sky had just laughed, shaking her head as she made her way over to them, sitting down next to Azriel. She had rested her head on his shoulder, reaching out to pet the cat. Hector purred loudly in approval, nudging his head against Sky's hand, and she couldn't help but smile.
Azriel kept odd hours for his work, sometimes disappearing in the middle of the night or coming home then too…but Sky did too, so it didn’t bother her.
He always made time for her - making them breakfast or bringing her coffee or leaving little notes for her. 
And she horded it all away like a dragon did with it’s hoard, wanting to enjoy that just a little while longer. 
Sky made sure to do the same for him. She knew he never slept much, so she always left a cup of tea by his bed if he was late in returning, and always left some food for him… She found him a new salve for the scars on his hand, massaging it in with all the patience in the world when he admitted to her that the muscles and joints hurt as it got colder… She bought him sweets from the same little shop in the Rainbow she got her own stash of caramel candies from… She wanted to take care of him, even if she knew Azriel would never ask for it.
She loved the way he held her, as if he would never let her go. She loved the way he whispered her name as he kissed down her body, and the way he held her once they were finished, his wings wrapping around them and cocooning her in warmth. Sky had never imagined that she could be loved like this, but Azriel made her feel like she was the most precious thing in the world.
And if Azriel wasn’t there…the shadows were.
They had become her constant companions - sliding beneath doors and around walls and windows, following her through the house. At first, the shadows had been startling, but she had quickly grown used to them - they seemed to relish draping themselves over her, wrapping around her wrists, her ankles, her shoulders. The shadows would stroke at her face and whisper her name, and Sky had taken to speaking to them as well, asking them about Azriel or if they could bring her things or fetch Hector.
It was...nice not being alone anymore. Sky had never realized how lonely she had been in her little apartment, but now that she had the shadows - and Azriel - she didn’t want to go back. She loved the way the shadows seemed to watch over her, always present even if Azriel was not. And in their own way, the shadows cared for her too, always there to provide a steadying or comforting presence - or to bring her a cup of tea, or fetch her a book she needed for research...
And besides, the shadows were much better at moving furniture than Sky was. She had quickly learned that if she needed something rearranged or moved and Azriel was not around to do it, the shadows were more than happy to help.
But most of all, the shadows had come to represent Azriel to her - they were always with her, always watching over her, and she knew that even if Azriel could not be there, the shadows would always look out for her. They would keep her safe. 
It was a strange and unexpected sense of comfort, but Sky had come to cherish it. She never felt truly alone anymore, not with the shadows constantly at her back, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
And if Azriel was there…well.
The sex was better than anything she had ever imagined.
Sometimes she woke up to him between her thighs, right in the middle of throes of her pleasure, her whole body still heavy with sleep and drenched with wetness. 
He made her feel wanted, desired in a way that she had never experienced before. He never tired of her, always wanting to be close her, and she never tired of him. Every touch felt like a new discovery, and Sky was learning Azriel’s body like she had never learned anything else in her life, learning what made him moan and tremble and beg for more. She loved the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, and the way he whispered her name as he moved inside her.
But it wasn't just about the physical pleasure.
After sex…when it was just the two of them curled up in their bed, his wings wrapped around her, his head bedded on body more often than not…they talked. A truth for a truth.
She learned more about him. About his horrible sweet tooth. About the scars that covered his hands…she had traced them one evening and he had looked at her…looked at her in wonder.
He opened up to her about so many things, telling her stories from his childhood, about the horrors of the war, and about his family. Sky listened to all of it, her heart breaking for all the pain and suffering he had endured, and vowing to spend the rest of her life making him happy. And in turn, she shared her own stories with him, telling him things she had never told anyone else. It felt...good to let go of all the secrets and burdens she had carried for so long, and to know that Azriel was there to listen and to understand.
He never once cared about her stuttering. Never once rushed her.
Though she could feel… she felt so safe with him…that the stutter eased. Still there but sometimes she could go whole sentences without stuttering once..
Azriel was always patient with her, letting her take her time when she needed it, and never making her feel rushed. And to her surprise, her stutter had eased, bit by bit.
It was a strange feeling, not having to struggle through every word, to speak without fear of being judged or laughed at. And Azriel never drew attention to it, never made her feel as if she was something to be pitied or fixed. He just accepted her for who she was - stutter and all.
Sky was…so very grateful for that. She could trust Azriel with her deepest fears and insecurities, and he would always be there for her, supporting her and encouraging her. And in turn, she would do the same for him.
Being with him was so easy.
So easy, and so natural. It felt like they had been together for years, not just weeks. She couldn't imagine her life without Azriel, and she never wanted to. He made her laugh, and he made her feel loved and he wanted her.
That was probably the most startling thing.  
Sky was working on her desk, that overlooked the lake, while Azriel preferred to work upstairs in his office, and a cup of tea was gently put down next to her, a kiss pressed against the crown of her head. She couldn’t help but lean back into him with a happy sigh, tipping up her head, turning towards Azriel and letting him kiss her properly.
“Sky?” He asked softly as she leaned into the touch of the hand on her shoulder.
She hummed in answer.
“Isn’t one of your books coming out soon?” Azriel asked her softly.
“In three weeks, just in time for winter solstice shopping,” Sky answered absentmindedly. “Why?”
Azriel was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "How high are the chances that I could…have an early copy?" Azriel asked, sounding nearly hesitant.
Sky turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You want an early copy of my book?" she asked, curious. Azriel's nod was immediate. A slow smile spread across Sky's face. "You want to read it?” she asked him hesitantly. He wanted to read her book? 
“I do want to read it. And I also have a friend who adores your books and her birthday is coming up…” Azriel said softly. “She’s important to me. Like a little sister. Her name is Nesta. And I think she may be your biggest fan.”
Sky blinked in surprise, touched by Azriel's words. She knew how much Azriel cared about his family, and to hear him describe Nesta as a little sister was...well, it was sweet. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride knowing that her books had made such an impression on someone so important to him.
She opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out one of the dozen or so she had stashed in there. At his surprised look she just shrugged. “I always get a few from the first print run,” she said drily.
Azriel took the book from her hands, his gaze softening as he looked down at the cover. "Thank you," he said quietly, his fingers tracing over the embossed title of the book. "I know she'll love it."
“Just tell her to please not let the newspaper get their hands on it,” Sky said drily, making him laugh. 
“She’ll protect this book fiercely,” he told her sagely. “Would you…sign it?” Azriel asked her. 
Sky hesitated. She had never once signed any of her books. Had never written the name Sellyn Drake as an autograph. 
But for Azriel...she could do it. For Nesta. 
So she took the book back, dipped her quill in her ink, flicking it off twice, and then wrote a short message to Nesta - wishing her a happy birthday and hoping that she enjoyed the book. 
Sky signed Sellyn Drake at the bottom, the movement feeling surprisingly natural… and felt strangely vulnerable as she handed the book back to Azriel.
Azriel looked down at the inscription, reading it over carefully before looking back at Sky. "Thank you," he said again, his voice soft and tender. "This means a lot to me, and to her."
Sky felt a warm glow settle over her, and she knew in that moment that she would do anything for Azriel. Anything to make him happy.
“You are very welcome,” she said simply.
He leaned down and kissed her, and Sky melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Azriel's neck and pulling him closer. For a moment, the world outside their little bubble of happiness seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.
***
“It seems like we need to come to some sort of agreement,” Azriel said tightly.
Hector the cat was staring at him with one eye and doing his best to intimidate him into life-long obedience, from where he was sitting in front of Azriel, who was sitting on the couch. 
"I am not going to stop sleeping in Sky's bed," he told the cat, crossing his arms. "I am not going to stop cuddling with her." Hector hissed at him in response, clearly not a fan of the fact that Azriel was going to stick around. 
It was a potential problem. Azriel glared at the ugly cat.
If it even was a cat. Sometimes he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was a stunted Mountain Lion. It was quite big for a normal cat. And uglier than that.
"You know, I am not above pretending to be allergic to you," he told the cat drily. Especially if Hector kept scratching him.
Hector shot him a disdainful look, clearly not worried. And then swiped out a paw to smack at Azriel's naked feet, claws carefully withdrawn. 
Azriel scowled down at the cat. "You're lucky Sky loves you so much," he muttered, glaring at Hector.
"We can agree to get along. I'll buy you that ridiculous expensive Tuna you like and you can come join us when we cuddle on the couch. Or we can draw a line in the sand and see who comes out on top." Azriel raised an eyebrow.
Drily he reflected that this was how far he had come. Trying to bargain with the ugliest cat he had ever seen.
Hector stared back at him for a moment, before finally letting out a "Meow" as if to say, "Fine, fine, you can stay - for now." 
Azriel let out a sigh of relief, glad that the cat had finally agreed to some sort of truce. And he knew that Sky would be happy too - she loved that mangly cat more than anything. So he would put up with Hector - for Sky's sake.
Hector smacked him on the arm and crawled into his lap.
Azriel hesitantly petted his head. “You do realize you weigh a ton, right?” he told the cat drily.
Sky had told him that he had been all skin and bones when she had found him. Yeah, that was definitely no longer true.
Hector rolled over on his back, demanding belly rubs.
Azriel sighed, shaking his head as he reluctantly obliged, rubbing Hector's belly, where the cat’s fur was patchy. 
 Azriel couldn't deny that the cat was oddly endearing, even if he would never admit it out loud. And as Hector purred contentedly in his lap, Azriel couldn't help but smile.
Maybe he could put up with this cat after all. For Sky's sake, of course.
Just for Sky. 
Just for Sky's sake, he bought the cat ridiculous expensive treats, a scratching post and toys.
And he found that, as the weeks went on, he didn't mind as much when Hector would jump into bed with them in the middle of the night, curling up next to Sky. Or when he would bat at Azriel's toes while he read.
Nobody ever needed to know when he asked Gwyn to help him find some books about cats and their proper nourishment and exercise.
"Thank you," he thanked the red headed priestess when she handed him a whole stack of them at the end of their next private dagger lesson.
"No, thank you.  Finally I can pay you back for all the dagger lessons," Gwyn said with a bright grin. "Are you...Are you thinking about adopting a cat?" she asked him curiously.
"No. A friend did," he answered truthfully.
"Making nice with it then?" Gwyn asked him and he sighed.
"I am pretty sure the cat plots my murder on a daily basis," he answered only half joking.
Gwyn laughed, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Have you tried giving it treats?" Gwyn suggested helpfully.
Azriel opened his mouth to respond but at that moment, Rhys landed just a few feet away. Probably training with Cassian early in the morning, before they did their usual training with the priestesses and Valkyries.
"I even bought him ridiculously overpriced, fresh tuna," he admitted drily, making her laugh.
"Good luck with your bribes," Gwyn said with another laugh. "See you later, shadowsinger," she said with a wave over her shoulder. Azriel looked after her for a moment and then passed over to one of the weapon racks, starting his usual inspection.
"Dagger Lessons?" Rhys asked him, as he crossed over to him. 
"Yes," Azriel agreed. He could hear the inflection in Rhys' voice, a lilting question. He didn't even want to know what Rhys was thinking.
"Just With Gwyn?" Rhys asked, tone still carefully neutral.
Azriel sighed, turning to face his friend. "Yes, just with Gwyn," he confirmed. Azriel kept his tone neutral, almost indifferent.
Azriel went back to his dagger inspection, keeping his mind focused on the task at hand.
He could feel Rhys's eyes on him, but he didn't waver. He knew his brother well enough to know that Rhys was trying to get a reaction out of him. And je wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a response.
Azriel didn't need to wait long. He could feel the talons of Rhys' daemati powers scratch against his mental shields just moments later. He let him in with a sigh. Was he officially going to get warned off Gwyn as well? 
Apparently Azriel was.
*If you want more from her, don't you dare pressuring her,* Rhys snapped into his mind.
Azriel nearly started to bristle. He wondered if Rhys even thought about how much of an insult it was. Ever thought of what it meant that he thought that Azriel would pressure Gwyn in anything she didn’t want. 
But he just answered flatly. *Then it will calm you to know that I couldn't possibly be less interested in Gwyn romantically.*
Maybe in another life. But not in this one.
*So what, you'll keep yearning after Elain?* Rhys asked him sharply.
Azriel looked up from the daggers, fixing Rhys with a glare.
*I behave. That's what you want. What I do or don't feel outside of that is none of your business,* Azriel gave back.
He was sick of this. Sick of Rhys treating him like he was some kind of reckless child who couldn't be trusted to make his own decisions. 
*I'll behave. As I always do.* He repeated that with more force, his glare hardening.
And as a side note, I am perfectly capable of handling my own feelings, Rhys. I don't need your interference.
The words hung in the air between them, sharp and pointed.
Azriel held Rhys's gaze for a beat longer, then turned back to the daggers. But he could feel the tension between them, the unspoken words that still hovered in the air.
He was so fucking done with Rhys’ meddling. Or with his brother not trusting him to handle his own feelings like an adult. 
*Oh really?* Rhys crossed his arms, wings spreading wide at his back. *How long have you been pining after Elain, knowing damn well that it would only bring you misery?*
It was a punch beneath what was appropriate. Both knew it.
But AZriel couldn't even fucking care at that moment.
He slammed down the mental walls, forcing Rhys out of his mind immediately.
Quite frankly, he hadn't thought about Elain once after Sky and him had accepted the mating bond. He hadn't fucking cared anymore.
 Elain could do whatever she wanted. So could Mor.  Azriel was kinda busy with doting on his mate.
Sky mattered. 
Sky actually wanted him around. Sky liked him enough to let him share her bed and curl around her and had not once flinched away from his shadows. 
Rhys could say and do whatever he wanted but he was not getting near Sky. 
"Good Morning!" At least Cassian was in a good mood.
Azriel barely acknowledged Cassian's cheerful greeting, his mind still reeling from his confrontation with Rhys. He wasn't in the mood to banter or make small talk. But Cassian, being Cassian, didn't seem to pick up on the tension in the air.
He plopped down on the ground beside Azriel, stretching out his wings lazily.
"What's got you brooding?" Cassian asked, eyeing Azriel curiously.
"Still figuring out Nesta's birthday gift," he said drily. It wasn't even a lie.
Cassian sighed.  "Good luck with that, brother. Nes can be quite the challenge to please," he said with a groan. "I still have no idea what to get her and I am her mate. I thought I would get her a new book but the only one she is interested in at the moment is the next Sellyn Drake book and that's not out for 3 weeks," Cassian complained.
Huh.
It seemed like Cassian may have just solved Azriel’s own gift debacle.
How high were the chances that he could talk Sky into giving him an early peek at her newest book?
Apparently it was as simple as asking. She gave it to him without hesitation, with a smile and he loved her just a little bit more just for that.
And he did love her. So fucking much.
It was so easy to be with her. So easy.
Azriel had never felt like this with anyone before. It was effortless to be with her, to be himself around her. She never expected anything from him, never pushed him to be someone he wasn't. She saw him for who he was, and accepted him completely.
She even accepted the shadows.
Azriel knew that the shadows were a part of him, and he had always been conscious of the way they might make people uncomfortable. But with Sky, it was different. She didn't shy away from them or make him feel like he needed to hide them from her. She even seemed to find a certain beauty in them.
She never flinched away, even when the shadows whispered against her skin...even when they touched her.
It was as if, for the first time, the shadows were not something to be feared or loathed. They were simply just a part of him, and she accepted them as such. She never asked him to change or try to control them, and it was a freedom he had never experienced before.
And quite frankly...he would rather stay with her, in their house and let himself be bullied by her cat that to sit through another family dinner.
But he did it. Just for Nesta. It was her birthday after all.
It wasn't going to be that bad. Probably.
He would just remind himself of who was waiting for him at home. That made it easy. 
And it wasn't even that bad. It could be worse.
Rhys even left him alone, mostly because Azriel did his best to stay away from Mor and Elain and Gwyn and Rhys himself for good measure, which left him with the conversation partners of Amren and Varian...and then he just needed to stay silent and let his mind wander to the feeling of Sky's hands when she scratched his scalp...the way she snuggled up to him in her sleep...to the freckles that covered her face...Azriel let his mind drift to thoughts of Sky as he sat at dinner, choosing to ignore the others' conversation. 
He knew that Rhys was probably watching him with a smug look on his face, probably thinking that Azriel was thinking of Elain instead. But Azriel didn't care. He was content in his thoughts of Sky.
Finally, they were handing gifts to Nesta, which meant that the evening was coming to an end.
Thank the cauldron for that. 
Azriel watched as Nesta unwrapped gifts from the others: jewelry from Amren, a painting of Velaris from Feyre…
“Happy Birthday,” Azriel told her softly as he handed her his gift.
“Thank you,” Nesta told him graciously, smiling at him. “Oh, chocolate!” He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm at the bag of chocolate candies that was tied to her gift with ribbon. 
Azriel smiled, watching as Nesta excitedly tore open the bag of chocolate candies that he had bought her…Sky and him had taken an ambling walk through Velaris one afternoon, ending near the rainbow in a tiny candy shop where his mate procured her caramel candies from and he had picked them up for Nesta. 
Well, that and a few different ones to try for him and Sky.
He was just glad that Nesta seemed to like it. And then Nesta unwrapped the book.
“Cassian said you were very excited to finally read it,” he told her drily. Nesta flipped it over, eyes devouring the title.
“HOW?!” She demanded, her voice half a screech. A far cry from how composed and quiet she usually was. “How did you get it?!?” And then she was already moving to hug him fiercely, pressing a kiss against his cheek. Azriel chuckled, giving her a quick hug back. He was glad that she seemed to like his gift so much.
"Cassian let it slip that you were interested in the new Sellyn Drake book, so I thought I'd pull some strings and get you an early copy," he explained. "Happy Birthday, Nesta."
“What kind of fucking strings did you pull?!” Cassian complained pouting. “I went to every bookstore in Velaris and none could get it to me earlier than in three weeks.” 
Azriel couldn’t help but smirk at Cassian's complaint. "You know me, Cassian. I have my ways," he drawled. "Maybe you just need to expand your network."
“You had the shadows steal it, didn’t you?” Cassian asked him with a glare. Azriel couldn’t help but snort.
“No, I asked Sellyn Drake to give it to me and she did,” he said drily. “Though I'm sure Nesta couldn't care less how I got the book, as long as she gets to read it."
“Oh, I do care.” Nesta assured him immediately. “You asked Sellyn Drake? Nobody knows who she is! You know her? How? When? Why?”
Azriel chuckled, amused by Nesta's rapid-fire questions. "Yes, I know Sellyn Drake. I asked her for a favor, and she obliged. Simple as that. As for the why, well, I knew how badly you wanted to read her new novel, so I thought it would be a nice surprise for your birthday,” he told her easily, smiling softly at Azriel. 
Cassian still looked suspicious, eyeing Azriel with a critical eye. "You asked the author herself to give you an early copy of her book? Just like that?" he asked skeptically.
“Just like that,” Azriel said calmly.
“So she actually exists?” Gwynn asked him curiously, everybody turned to stare at her. “What?! You know I had my theory!”
“Gwyn’s theory is that Sellyn Drake isn’t one single person, but instead a whole group of incredible talented authors,” Nesta said with a grin.
"Oh, she definitely exists. I can vouch for that. She’s very sweet,” Azriel told Nesta simply, who opened her book, hungrily opening the front pages…
“…this is signed,” Nesta breathed. “Sellyn Drake knows my name.” 
He was pretty sure that he had heard religious people sound less worshipping than Nesta did at that moment. 
For just a moment he wanted to think about how it would be for Nesta and Sky to meet, but he forced himself not to. Not where Rhys could snap that up. 
“What?! No way!” Emerie exclaimed, clambering to take a look at the book. “Cauldron boil me.” She breathed.
“There isn’t a single signed Sellyn Drake book!” Gwyn exclaimed. 
Azriel couldn't help but chuckle at the others’ reactions. "Well, I guess that makes this a pretty special gift then," he said simply, sipping his wine with a satisfied smile.
“Very special,” Nesta told him softly, looking at him wideyed. “This is…This is incredible, Az.” 
Azriel merely inclined his head, accepting the comment. “I’m glad "It's not often that I can surprise someone who's as hard to impress as you are."
Nesta gave him a playful swat on the arm. "You know I'm not that hard to please," she told him. "You just have to know me well enough to know what I want. And apparently you do. Thank you.”
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thumperdaetime · 14 hours ago
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this way isn't the point, but as an (once) avid reader who dissociates: I read to Stop dissociating! various things in the world made me uncomfortable to the point of daily mental distress. and i was able to use books as semi-socially-aceaptable tools to keep myself alive long enough to get actual help. i was very lucky to live in a place and time that taught me to read and gave me access to new books. i love reading, it was my favorite way to keep form of not dissociating, got over 1000 accelerated reader points one school-year. i had to split the gift card reward with the person behind me, because she was also passing english and history, and i was doing nothing but reading and crying. as someone who has sense realized why i was reading. i get the impulse of the original. i do occasionally find things in my past that make me go "oh... so I've just been like this(tm) the whole time, i wish someone had told me." but, i agree it's unhelpful to prompt people to re-examine their past for things to pathologize. Exspecialy when there are so many other things we could Currently be working on. a better post might read: if you know a child who is obsessively instant on finding escapes from reality as much as possible, maybe check why they don't want to be in this reality? because the weirdest thing about realizing you were reading 200+pgs of text a day as a coping mechanism, is wondering how no-adults noticed or did anything.
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lumibuns-blog · 23 hours ago
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Can’t stop thinking about how much Simon “Ghost” Riley loves his American girlfriend.
Unlike the other 141 boys he wouldn’t poke fun at you or tease you about the different words you use. Kyle loves to correct you,
“Whens the soccer game on tonight?”
“Its football love, not soccer, ‘cause you kick the ball.”
“You kick the ball in American football as well.”
“Yeah but...ours is better”
Johnny’s a tease
“Have you seen my swimming suit?”
“You wear a suit to go swimming?”
“I’m not calling it a costume”
“Well it sure as hell isn’t a bloody suit”
Even Price gets in on it by pretending not to hear you,
“Can you grab some chips from the kitchen?”
“Hm? Sorry dear can’t hear ya’”
“Grab me some chips!”
“Gunna’ have'ta repeat that”
“....crisps”
“There ya’ go, really outta speak up more sweetheart”
Never mind the fact he was right beside you on the couch.
But Simon, Simon is different. Never once has he corrected or teased you, to the point where its become a bit of a hindrance.
“Can you stop by the gas station on your way home?”
And he’ll just stare at you, an almost blank expression on his face, only the fidgeting of his fingers give way to what he’s thinking.
“The petrol shop Si’”
“Right.” 
Is it because he doesn’t care? Or maybe he’s too frightened he’ll scare you away if he corrects you? Whatever it is he’ll never say, but one thing is for certain, he’s absolutely elated when you start to pick up the British dialect.
You tell people your boyfriend is a leftenant instead of a luitenant and he’s looking at you like you hung the very stars in the sky.
Ask for a “wife beater” while pointing at the bottles of Stella Artois in his fridge and he swears his heart just skipped a beat (despite the crude connotations of the nickname)
Ask him to pick up ‘Maccies for you bolth on the way home and he almost causes a 20 car pileup because he has to hide his burning face.
Tell him you like the black jumper he’s wearing and theres three more in the online cart already.
And when you start swearing like a “proper brit” he’s ready to get down on one knee. He hears you mutter “bloody hell” from across the flat as you listen to news report an expected  10cm of rain for today and for the first time in his life he’s thanking god Manchester is such a dreary place.
You’ve become part of his life, he hadn’t scared you off, you hadn’t gotten tired of him. You wanted to be here, you wanted him. You’ve been here long enough to pick it up, you’ve spent enough time together even your words are beginning to match each other, and theres nothing in the world that could make him happier. So he’ll never once correct you or tease you when you ask to go on a vacation even if he’s blindly nodding along to your requests and scurrying off to the bathroom later to look it up and figure out you wanted to go on holiday with him. Cursing under his breath while he fishes his phone from the sink because he dropped it in his shock at the revelation you wanted to go on holiday with him. Give him two days and he’s already bought the tickets
Sorry for the lack of posting! Schools been getting busy and I'm working on getting a draft of a book ready to send to a publisher so it's been a bit hectic but I absolutely love posting for you guys here on tumblr (srsly all your comments make my day) so I'm going to try and keep posting as regularly as I can! working on a longer chapter for my Ghost and Soap's roomie series rn so that should be out somewhat soon! thank you all so so much for your support.
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voidsuites · 1 day ago
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ARTRICK BOT RELEASE !!! (11/13/24) ⌢⠀ 🎾 .ᐟ
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art donaldson ・゜゜・.coach's orders. you’re art’s newest player— an up-and-coming name in the tennis world— but you’re stubborn and prone to working yourself to the bone in the name of the game. tashi would’ve loved you if she’d gotten her hands on you first, but you’re here with him, on his private backyard court, listening to his advice about your game and ultimately, your career. and damnit, art’s not going to take that for granted (even if it means pushing the delicate boundaries between an athlete and their coach). you’ve got to learn how to relax, and art’s not opposed to bending you over the net if that’ll fix things.
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art donaldson ・゜゜・.lesson planning. it’s your first year having a hands-on role in building out and finalizing the curriculum for the middle school english department, but your focus has been equally split between what books your kids are going to read and the head of the english department himself, mr. donaldson. you’d been wary to accept such a high responsibility in the first place, but he’d insisted that you help him review the materials during prep week, and you'd never say no to art… even if it means awkwardly dancing around the fact that you’re both clearly into one another— oh, and that he’s finally taken off his wedding ring.
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art and patrick ・゜゜・.night of the living frat! it really should be sacrilegious that sigma chi’s hosting a costume party just a week after halloween, but none of the brothers had been able to resist yet another party before finals overtook the rest of the semester. besides— who passes up a chance to dress up and drink? the music’s loud, the drinks are a-flowin’, and you’d never be able to tell that tonight isn’t halloween. no one’s the wiser… which only makes it harder for art and patrick to keep their hands to themselves and their heads out of the gutter when you eventually materialize. hopefully they can convince you to stay the night… if they can remember how to share first.
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patrick zweig ・゜゜・.mr. z. everyone loves mr. zweig— or “mr. z” as the students like to call him— and as the newest teacher amongst the faculty ranks, he’s quick to make nice and befriend everyone, including you. normally, you’d normally be skeptical of a washed-up pro tennis player coming to fill in the vacant gym teacher position, but you instead find yourself spending more time with patrick and enjoying yourself. it’s only a matter of time before you realize that lines are blurring and that whatever is going on between you both is way more than a friendship between fellow teachers coworkers.
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patrick zweig ・゜゜・.shopping spree. frequent trips to the high-end side of the city had never been your sort of thing thing, but now that you’re dating patrick they’ve become a weekly occurrence. you never leave empty-handed, and it’s always on his dime (at his insistence, of course, it’s all chump change to him anyway). who cares about the staring you two get when he totes you and your purchases of the day around the city?— he’s the one that gets to go about his business with you on his arm. everyone else is just lucky he just can’t help showing you off while he does.
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got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 5.2K AND 2 MIL+ CHATS! this is actually insanity i don't even know what to say or how to feel but thank you thank you 😭😭😭😭😭😭 challengers brainrot has struck again (big surprise) these are all mostly aus— the art and pat teacher bots (lesson planning + mr. z) are based off of headcanons by dearest mars (the lovely @saintzweig) and the shopping spree pat bot is based off of the moodboard by my true love @diyasgarden !!! please please please please please give my lovely moots a follow bc without them (and everyone else) i would not have any ideas and you all would just be subjected to the whistling wind that blows in my head when nothing is going on in there (which happens often!) love love LOVE you guys for real i am so grateful for all of the support and giggles that we all have <33333333333
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leth-writes · 2 days ago
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yandere reader x yandere batfam
SUMMARY: yandere batfam x yandere reader
WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.
MASTERLIST 
Requests are open!
Just thinking of a yandere darling. You’re a little intense, maybe just on the creepy side of protective.
But you’re not very good at it 🙁
You’re stalking them, they’re stalking you as you stalk them, it’s a whole thing.
They honestly might be relieved. They know where you are at all times, they’ve long ago put a tracker on you, but having you always hovering around eases their worries.
Tim definitely hacks the bugs you’ve put on them, making sure you aren’t accidentally catching on to the fact they’re night-time vigilantes.
Overall, though, I can see them LOVING the trackers you try to place on them. You’re so clumsy about it anyone would notice, but they pretend not to, just so your self-esteem doesn’t get hurt.
It’s like a kitten trying to fight a tiger; the tiger’s playing, the kitten is unaware of how bad their odds are.
There’s no way you’d be able to break into the manor by yourself.
They see it as enrichment, they just… leave a single window open, on the ground floor, into a rarely used family room.
Once they catch you planting the bugs all over the room, not even bothering to make your way throughout the rest of the manor, they’ll spend more time in the room, playing up their personas.
Bruce is especially amused; he’s really playing up the ditzy Brucie persona around you, entirely so that he can get close to you without you suspecting he’s onto you.
You’re really protective over him; there’s been times you’ve been gearing up to fight some creep at a gala who won’t leave poor ol’ Brucie alone. 
He doesn’t need your help, he’s working on a case, but he appreciates it nonetheless.
It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy, knowing you’re there. Even if there’s no way you’d actually be able to deal with the types of enemies he has.
You’re like pulling him off to the side, holding his hands in yours and staring at him so determinedly, eyes blazing. “Bruce, don’t be scared to tell me if someone’s bugging you, okay? I’ll handle it.” You tell him. Internally, Bruce is cooing. When he tells the others about it later, in the privacy of the cave, they’ll do the same.
You just think he’s too soft for this world. He needs protection! He thought Mexico was a continent!
He’ll definitely pretend to be super drunk just as an excuse to lean on you, his side pressed to yours and an arm slung around your neck. He loves the way he can feel the heat of your blush.
Dick is much the same way. You’ve signed up for his gymnastics class and you’re so determined to succeed at something he loves that he just can’t help but prioritize you. Some of the other students even complain about how obvious the favoritism is. Don’t be surprised if you miraculously win free 1-on-1 lessons with him. He just loves being able to physically touch and guide you, watching how flustered you get.
Sometimes you slip in a bit of information he knows isn’t really available to the general public, just little things about his time in the circus. It makes him happy to know how much time you’ve spent researching him, even if it is pretty baseline stuff, nothing too deep. He’s just appreciating your hard work!
Jason, you have a hard time with. He doesn’t appear in public often, so you spend most of your time just watching him read in the family room. He knows you’re reading the stuff he picks out, so he deliberately chooses books he thinks you’d like. 
When it comes to Tim, he’s definitely matching your freak. You get a tracker on him, he has 3 on you. He’s discreetly watching you watch him. 
Puts on a show, makes himself seem like any naive rich kid. You’ll never see the true predator until it’s too late.
Definitely fiddles with the trackers in his spare time, he loves being reminded of how much you love him; it plays right into those deep seated insecurities left over from his biological parents.
Damian is definitely the least subtle about it. He’s not gonna pretend to be something he isn’t, and he definitely wants you to step up your game. He’ll smash the trackers until you manage to get it into a satisfactory spot.
He will absolutely refuse to spend much time in the family room; he sees it as too easy. He wants you to work to learn more about him. His past is definitely one of the harder ones to dig up.
Cass can read the desperation on you, and just befriends you. She doesn’t really put up much of an act, and just satisfies your protective instincts by listening to your ‘suggestions’ about how awful her ‘friends’ are. They’re acquaintances at best, so you aren’t really accomplishing much of anything, but she feels it’s the thought that counts.
Just imagine when you’re finally kidnapped, and they’re like Surprise! We knew the whole time!
OH MY GOD THE HUMILIATION
They’re completely different than how you thought they were, and you slowly realize you’ve made a big fucking mistake, but oh well, it’s their turn now!
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thumperdaetime · 2 days ago
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the music is punk because it challenges the norm. the clothing is punk because it challenges the norm. the politics are punk because they challenge the norm. it's not a sound, or a look, or a book, or a slogan. it's a way of thinking that puts radical acceptance and relentless pursuit of joy, face to face with a world that wants you dead. you can't put a price on it. the disabled woman that says "fuck it people know I can't hold my blatter anyway. I don't care if they can tell I'm wearing the rehab-provided brief. Get me my bright lipstick I'm going to bingo!" is flexing the same muscles as the suburban white boy who steals eyeliner from his conservative mother. they are both people using identity, to create joy and signal comradery in lonely times, reputation be damned.
not to mention, all of the clothes I have been able to afford new when I was in my poorest moments were shit quality anyway. anything you can do to extend the lifespan of a physical object that was made under the modern fast fashion system past "thrown out, unsold at the store" is a win. in the same way that any pressure you can keep against an actively bleeding wound is a win. cloths are a common class of tools we use to help regulate our comfort, with that is with the temperature or our cave-mates. if the clothes make you feel uncomfortable they are already useless. it is already trash. why not try anything to see if it works? there are intelligent capable people across the centuries who died dreaming of what to do with once gorgeous expensive trendy fabric, that will now look dated and trashy outside of "the spring of '32 when i fell in love with jazz." or whatever the kids are into these days. the stupid walmart blazer you took a chance on 2 years ago but now feel "too X to wear" is no different. either you trash it now, or live with that trash in your home until your kids do it for you, while crying about how they always thought you looked good in that color. you might as well see if there's enough fabric to re-make that halter top you loved in college. when it looks homemade you get to boast and explain all about how you're trying to make shit better in little ways. and who cares if it fails? Aren't you deserving of a little petty violence? when the last time you really didn't give a shit about seam Ripping and just went to town? don't you want to be able to yell at something with no moral consequences? so much in this world is complicated and nuanced and requires forethought and responsibility. Wouldn't it feel nice to have a hobby that lets you get reasonably angry at evil fabric for not doing the thing, and then you can just throw it and swear, and then never have to think about it again. because it doesn't matter. it was already cheep plastic made to feed a system that would rather watch the world burn than lose a shareholder. you eat credit cards a year. you can not hurt wasted disposable plastic more than it will hurt you.
and then if it works you have a cute top to wear around places to show you are the kind of person who has cool tops! and help you ease people into the idea that a political movements starts with people deciding what things they inherited they actually want to keep around. and then maybe one day you cut apart and re-make out of nice quality fabric, with the mistakes you learned from the first one. so you can weaponize your ability to present yourself as ""respectable"" when you have to play the politics game in big official ways.
or (imagine this) you can even use your new knowledge of what types of edits you often make to clothing to buy a quality garment that will be more worth investing in. Ones that are made in ways that add value to their communities will feel good on your body from day one, and you can be mened and adapt in ways that may let it outlive you.
or maybe you elevate that shity, guilt ridden- shirt out of the gym lost and found on the last day of freshman year, because "fuck it- I liked that middle-school library fit. and Its a size too small but I'm bound to get thinner eventually. and I don't think its actually stealing if no one else wants it." Maybe if you make it into a statement piece scrap in your favorite "look I'm not happy about it either!" outfit, to show that you want to fuck with the systems in a "hey we should still have A Library tho right?" sort of way. you might run into the middle school girl who gets to break the ice with a fellow "cool garment person" friend. and she gets to laugh about your shirt deadnaming her. and you get to apologize and offer to let her sign something over it. and now you are advertising the formative art of a local queer-punk-artisan who you know is also out there trying her best to make the shitty stuff a little less shitty when they can, even if it means learning how to thread a sewing machine.... eventually.... hopefully.
also, as a person who has spent about a decade trying to figure out ways to keep kids of all ages informed and prepared and enriched on a budget. "Tug of War turned tie-dye Party" would of been a smash hit, my queer and rural in the 90's type parents would have loved it. after growing up with Halloweens filled with pieced-together costumes that made room for sensory issues and accessibility aids. and family "vacations" taken on public land with what's left of the food stamps. i think there is definitely a market for how to teach your children the fundamentals of serving in a world that might find their misery profitable. without like... terrafing them.
imagine how much easier alot of it would have been if someone early in your life had sat you down and said "ok. a lot of times things are going to be bad and unfair and evil. and there's going to be complicated reasons you cant do much about it but feel bad. but if you feel bad all the time it will only get worse. so what you can do is take what is around you, figure out what it is and how it works and why it's there, and then break it in ways that are meaningful and delibrite. and re-shape it to help the actual people who are trying survive."
then they showed you and all of your little friends how to research, what fabric is and understand why you bought supplies, and then get their hands dirty testing how strong it is, and why jeans have rivets even when you want to sew right there. and re-asure them that it's ok you paved the way to make sure they can't hurt anything too bad even if they are really really bad at it. and then let them find joy and pride in making something unique and custom with their own tools for the cost of cleaning out a closet, and some rite dye.
and then the community has a couple new little baby punks making decent folks smile with little bold fashion statements, and turning heads when they experiment with which parts of society they want to bring into the new age. tl;dr: I think we need to start telling the “I’m too poor to dress punk” crowd that they’re posers. -polyamorouspunk, November 2024, tumbr.com
I think we need to start telling the “I’m too poor to dress punk” crowd that they’re posers.
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onejellyfishplease · 2 days ago
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question(s) about the minecraft au
how did they meet each other , they all are usually found in completely different places. also how did they meet april
if april is like steve (or alex) does she have unlimited lives or is this like hardcore mode?
is there an ender dragon in this au, if so, does donnie have any kind of connection to it since he is an enderman
sorry I have a lot of questions about this au I love it so much
The boys were raised all together by Splinter (who ive yet to do a character sheet yet for lol) As for April, she's a Player! which means she can do most of what the actual player in minecraft can do to
(eg can carry a rediculous amount of stuff, heal quickly w/o potions, very quick crafting)
The boys, in contrast, have to do stuff the 'normal' way, like wittling/welding stuff instead of magiking it finished. It takes Donnie agesss to extract just a little redstone from the ore- imagine his reaction when april can just immediately break it and get it all instantly.
One drawback of being a Player is that you're constantly at war with the world. You need constant food as long as youre moving (they boys meed to eat too but not nearly as often) and most 'aggressive' mobs will attack on sight.
In the character sheet she is shown in netherite- but she doesnt get that untill a while after meeting the boys.
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Donnie you thief. (Later she sees that Mikey left his leg behind and her bed is now charred)
As for Donnie and the enderdragon, he has seen her sometimes when he goes to the end- though she always ignores him and the other endermen.
He mostly does to the end to nick old Galactic books.
And while he can teleport other people with him- he cant do so into the End, so the others havent seen the dragon yet. though he does bring back plenty of chorus fruit, which Leo is obsessed with.
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wolvietxt · 22 hours ago
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𝓒LOSER 𝓣HAN 𝓑EFORE !
pairing : daryl dixon x female!reader warnings : implied age gap, crybaby!reader, he’s a bit ooc, overprotective rick wc : 2.1k a/n : i’m seriously debating writing for carol i want her so bad also can u tell i’m in love with rick
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it had been a week since the group returned from their last supply run. as usual, you'd found a quiet spot in the prison, back against the cold concrete wall, a pencil in hand, and your notebook resting on your knees. with each sketch, you could lose yourself in the lines and shapes, letting the chaos of the outside world fall away.
daryl had seen you tucked away like this more times than he could count. he often found himself stealing glances in your direction when he thought you weren’t looking, the way you focused intently on your drawings. there was something calming about it, a slice of peace in a world that had long since forgotten the meaning of the word. he liked that you managed to create beauty in such a bleak place, and it stirred something warm inside him.
as he gathered supplies for the next run, he couldn’t help but feel a pull toward you, the way a moth is drawn to a flame. but even as that warmth spread through him, a thread of hesitation tugged at his heart. he didn't know how to approach you without sounding awkward or making things weird. you were sunshine to him, and he feared his often grumpy demeanour would cast a shadow over your light. but he was trying, to be kinder, especially around you. the group made it easy, at this point, rick was almost like a brother to him, and carol a best friend. to his eventual dismay, this meant she knew a whole lot about him and could read him like a book.
“hey, daryl,” carol’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. she had a knowing look in her eyes, the kind that made him shift uncomfortably. “you’ve been staring at her again.”
he scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. “i ain’t staring.”
“sure,” she said with a teasing smirk. “just like you weren’t the one who picked up that flower for her last week.” 
that had been a mistake. you had looked so happy, your smile lighting up the whole room. and damn if that hadn’t made him feel all sorts of things. but now, he just shrugged it off. “she’s a good kid. just… i dunno, wanted to do something nice.”
carol raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on her face. “you’re not fooling anyone, daryl. you care about her.”
“i care about everyone in this group,” he replied a bit too quickly, his tone defensive. 
“sure you do,” she said, walking away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 
he watched you again, how you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, completely absorbed in your art. he wanted to be closer to you, to show you how much you meant to him. but the words always stuck in his throat, trapped beneath layers of his own insecurity. he knew he wasn’t good enough for you, but he wanted you like he never had before.
later that day, the group gathered to discuss the next supply run. rick, as usual, was leading the meeting, his face drawn and serious. “we need to get more medical supplies. that last run barely did us any good.”
you were sitting under carol while she toyed with your hair, comfortable inbetween her legs while she was sitting on one of the beds. flipping through your notebook, a page with a half-finished drawing of a sunset catching your eye. you liked how it reminded you of the days before everything fell apart. 
“we’ll need someone to stay back and guard the place,” rick continued, looking around the room. “any volunteers?”
before you could even think, carol spoke up. “i’ll stay. i can help keep watch.” 
“me too,” you chimed in, glancing at daryl, who met your gaze for a brief moment. there was something in his eyes that made your heart race, but you quickly looked away, focusing on the conversation at hand, hoping the heat rising to your cheeks wasn’t too obvious.
“you sure?” rick asked, his voice skeptical. “it’s dangerous out there.”
“we’re capable,” you said firmly. “if something happens, we can handle it.” 
daryl watched the exchange, his brow furrowing as he weighed the risks. he knew you were strong, but he also hated the idea of you being out there alone. he couldn’t shake the need to protect you, but he didn’t want to stifle your independence either. 
“i’ll - i’ll be careful, i swear” you added, sensing the tension in the room, especially from daryl.
after the meeting, the group dispersed, but daryl lingered behind, gathering his gear. he overheard rick talking to carol, their voices low and serious. 
“she’s too inexperienced,” rick said, frustration lacing his words. “what if something happens? we can’t afford to lose anyone.”
rick loved you, he really did, as much as everyone else in the group, but he also had a tendency to worry, especially about you. you weren’t new to the group, you’d been with them since the camp, same time as rick. rick had found you limping down the road, a herd of walkers following not far behind you. he’d scooped you up as quick as he could, and since then, he’d always felt rather overprotective of you. your naivety often put him on edge, his worst nightmare would be you ending up in a bad situation because you were often too trusting of others. you didn’t know what kinda guy he could’ve been when he’d picked you up in the middle of the street, but you didn’t struggle at all. he cared for you like a father.
“she’s tougher than you think, rick,” carol replied. “but she’s also got a soft side. you know that. don’t underestimate her.” 
“it’s not that,” rick snapped. “it’s just… i mean she’s irresponsible, she’s - ” 
you walked past them, catching the tail end of the conversation. your heart sank, unsure of what to make of it. you wanted to prove yourself, but hearing rick’s concerns made you doubt your abilities. you ducked into a hallway, hoping to clear your head.
daryl noticed you walking away, and for a moment, he considered following you. he wanted to check on you, make sure you were okay. but then he thought about the conversation with rick, and fear gripped him. he didn’t want to sound like a worried parent, but you were really important to him. 
he took a deep breath and made his decision. he would go on the run with the others, but he would make sure to bring back something special for you. maybe that would lighten your mood.
as the day wore on, the run took longer than expected. they fought off a few walkers and scrounged around for supplies, but daryl’s mind was elsewhere. he kept thinking about you, how you had looked when rick was questioning your abilities. the way your smile faltered, and your confidence seemed to waver. he hated that rick could make you feel small, even if he didn’t mean to. 
when they finally returned, daryl felt a rush of relief to see you sitting in the same spot, sketching in your notebook. the others were busy unpacking supplies, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. your brow was furrowed in concentration, and it made him want to protect that focus, to shield you from any negativity.
“hey,” he said softly, approaching you cautiously. 
you looked up, surprised, and your face lit up with a smile that made his heart skip. “hey, daryl! how was the run?”
“it was alright,” he replied, his gaze flicking to your notebook. “what’re you working on, sweetheart?”
“just a little something,” you said, your cheeks flushing. “nothing special.”
he leaned over, trying to sneak a peek at your drawing. “looks pretty damn special to me.”
you turned the notebook slightly, revealing a sketch of the prison with a sunset in the background. it was beautiful, full of vibrant colours, and it made his heart swell. “y’re real talented, you know that?”
“thanks, daryl.” you replied, a hint of shyness in your tone. “it’s just a hobby.”
“hobbies are important,” he said, feeling bold. “keeps you sane in this crazy world.”
“what about you?” you asked, curious. “do you have any hobbies?”
he scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “hunting, i guess. and, uh, taking care of my bike.” 
“i’d love to see your bike sometime,” you said, your eyes sparkling with interest.
“yeah?” he said, surprised. “i could show you. it’s not much, but it gets me around.” 
“i’m sure it’s more than that,” you replied, smiling softly. 
“here,” he said, shifting the conversation. “um, i got you something.” he pulled out a worn paperback book from his backpack, the edges frayed but the cover intact. “found it on the run. thought you might like it.”
your eyes widened, and you took the book from him gently. “oh daryl, you didn’t have to…”
“i wanted to,” he said, a hint of shyness in his voice too. “thought you could use a new read.”
you opened the book and gasped, looking up at him with a mix of disbelief and joy. “this is one of my favourite authors!”
“really?” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile. “figured you might like it.” 
you hugged the book to your chest, your eyes brimming with tears. “thank you so much!”
“ain’t no big deal,” he said, trying to sound casual, but the warmth in his cheeks betrayed him. “now don’t you go cryin’ on me.”
you laughed through your tears, and he felt his heart swell. “sorry, i can’t help it. ‘s just really thoughtful of you. you always do nice things for me.” you said, giggling through the tears now streaming down your face. you didn’t really know why you were crying, but you hoped daryl didn’t think too much about it.
“i just think you deserve it,” he replied, shrugging but unable to hide his smile. 
“you’re really sweet,” you said, wiping a tear from your cheek. 
“ain’t sweet,” he teased. “you’re just a damn crybaby.” 
you playfully nudged him, and he chuckled, feeling the tension that had built throughout the day start to dissipate. “you really like it?” he asked, wanting to make sure he hadn’t messed up.
“i love it,” you said sincerely. “and it’s just what i needed. i’ve never read this one before. ‘m gonna start reading it tonight.” 
“good,” he said, his heart racing. “maybe we could, uh, read together sometime.”
“i’d love that,” you replied, your smile brightening even more. 
he was struck by the way you looked at him, your eyes shining with genuine happiness. it made him feel brave, like maybe he could push past the awkwardness. “i mean, if you want to.”
“i definitely do,” you said, your voice soft. 
the two of you stood there, the world around you fading as the moment stretched on. daryl felt a surge of affection that he could no longer contain. he stepped closer, the heat radiating off you making him bold. 
“can i?” he asked, his voice low, leaning in slightly. 
you nodded, and without thinking, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours. it was soft and tentative at first, but then you melted into him, deepening the kiss. the warmth spread through him, and he felt like he was finally letting go of everything that had held him back.
when you pulled away, breathless, he couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “damn, you really are a crybaby.”
you giggled, a flush spreading across your cheeks. “maybe just a little.”
“well, if you keep bein’ so sweet, i might just have to keep makin’ you cry,” he teased, unable to hide his grin.
“i wouldn’t mind that,” you said, biting your lip, a shy smile creeping onto your face.
“good,” he said, his heart racing. “because i ain’t goin’ anywhere. you’re stuck with me.” 
“i wouldn’t want it any other way,” you replied, feeling a sense of peace settle between you two.
as the night drew closer, the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm, sharing stories and laughter, the world outside fading away. daryl felt a lightness in his chest that he hadn’t experienced in a long time, and he knew that no matter what came next, he wanted to face it with you by his side.
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🌀 daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz
@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi
taglist form linked in pinned post :3
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bitchslapblastoids · 20 hours ago
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Prompted by your post about dnp inviting audience interaction: it /is/ really brave, and so interesting! I haven't been watching them for long at all and one of the biggest things that just drew me in and deeply fascinated me about them is how so much of their work (not just on stage) is in some way a conversation/interaction with their audience and the more you watch the more you notice it. No wonder its easy to be parasocial about them and about the Phandom itself!
To me, at least, they seem to be the sort of performers/creators that need a relatively high level of audience interaction in order to be inspired or for their work to feel meaningful. Like, im absolutely sure they could also create things without this close relationship with their audience but it seems to be what their naturally drawn towards? Obviously the problem has been in maintaining boundaries within that but it seems like that's going better now than at some points in the past, which makes me really happy for everyone!
Sorry about the long yap, this is so interesting to me and I just needed to express it a little
yes!!! i love this!!! so beautifully worded! no need to apologize at all - i am in such hearty agreement and actually think about this so often. i think the engagement with their audience is their superpower, and it runs so deep. what was one of dan's favorite things about phil before he met him? phil's interactive adventure videos, in which he was creating an interactive experience for his viewers.
when they film pinof1 together, what are they doing? they're answering an audience-submitted q&a. the audience interaction is literally baked into their foundation! <3
2010, dan's uni dorm. what's displayed behind him on his wall? art and letters sent to him by viewers. he films danmail vids where he opens and reacts to said art and letters and personally thanks the senders.
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for years and years and years, what's at the end of every phil video? fanart! draw phil naked! (in retrospect literally so weird lol but shhh)
the ongoing avalanche of vyous and younows and tumblr reblogs/follows and responding to yt comments and retweets and and and. so much interaction. the videos directly engaging with twitter and tumblr creations. they see us, they know us, they get us.
their first book? included a double-page spread with dozens of pieces of phanart.
every single one of their tours has multiple essential audience interaction components, and even more brilliantly, with multiple different access points that are perfectly calibrated to their audience. too shy to speak up? send in a submission ahead of time. want to be a part of the masses? shout something out during the audience participation segments! and there's always the likelihood that they'll include fanart in the show itself, casually mention an actual actively popular fic, throw in an ancient phwedding manip, or just build whole segments of the show around our tropes and the world that we created with them. all of that keeps things exciting and engaging on stage, bc you never know exactly what's going to come next. but it also keeps their audience feeling seen, valued, and like co-creators in a way.
When you look at the other britcrew and big yters from the 2010s, they simply weren't generating that ongoing, authentic conversation with their audiences. their approach followed the simple format of: i post, you watch. and then it became: i post, you watch, then i try and sell you something while i call you my 'community' because you are all watching me and sometimes you talk to one another in the comments. but it's not like zalfie or joe and casper etc. were chiming in on the convos too, or at least not in any meaningful way. it wasn't a community in the same way.
dan and phil truly built community. i think communities require mutual exchange, communication, a sense of value and worth, commonly agreed upon truths, shared experiences, touchstones of connection, and leaders who have integrity. i know this is all starting to sound a little lofty, but i really do think dan and phil are good humans who have worked hard to wield their power and influence responsibly and compassionately. they set the tone for us, constructed this world, paid attention to what landed for us, how we responded to things, everything that we were up to in response to what they were up to. they listened. they made us feel seen and celebrated and appreciated, and in turn we continued to celebrate them. they created weird inside jokes, we adopted them, then we all shared the weird inside jokes. they existed, we created our own language and lore and encyclopedia in response, and now there's a whole stage show about it.
that's how you get people sticking around for 15 years. that's how you get people to actually want to spend money on you. and yeah, some more boundaries at times couldn't have hurt. they fostered a sense of proximity and entitlement that obviously put them in harm's way. but i'd say ultimately what they've manage to do has been a net good for them and a tremendous success.
you raised such a good point that it seems to be what they are naturally drawn towards. i think it's because they, too, were fangirls. phil was writing buffy fic. dan was running a lost wiki. they both understood the power of online fan community before they were the titans of their own. they get it, they get us <3
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Can you do the Moon Boys with a reader who has a massive amount of knowledge about true crime and how various criminals often behave and common MOs of killers. I'm a criminal psychology major who's working to be a criminal profiler, so I tend to have a lot of knowledge like this. But people always find it weird that I know all these things and joke about why i might know all of these things.
I think it would be interesting to hear your take on how Marc, Steven, and Jake would react towards a partner who's basically a true crime and criminal psych encyclopedia. Maybe having someone like that helps them hunt down bad guys better.
Ooo this is such an interesting idea!
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Moon Knight Boys x gn!Reader • Rating: 18 + pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •
Warnings: Murder, Khonshu, hit of sexy times, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!
Word Count: 405
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Steven Grant
Thinks it’s super interesting. I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again - Steven loves listening to people who are passionate about a subject, doesn’t matter what that subject is. If you’re interested in it, he’s interested. 
Definitely will ask your opinion about Ancient Egyptian murders.
Asks you to teach him some of your expertise so that he can help him figure out some of the drives/mindsets of the people Khonshu sends them after.
Makes a whole space in the shelves in the flat for you to store papers and books.
Will watch true crime shows with you if you want and complain with you about any inaccuracy.
Marc Spector
Playfully calls you morbid.
But listens to true crime podcasts all the time, doesn’t tell Steven or Jake about it, but finds some of them quite soothing for some reason. He doesn’t want to think about why in too much detail, but he’s pretty sure it’s to do with hearing how awful some people truly have been and that what he’s done under the direction of Khonshu (basically getting rid of these people) isn’t the worst thing in the world.
Doesn’t want you to help them on anything Moon Knight related, “that’s what he’s for.” *Gestures vaguely in Khonshu’s direction*.
Khonshu calls your work, “Interesting.” And Marc nearly throws hands.
Steven fronts only to tell Khonshu that he will find a banishing spell for the flat so that the god can’t step foot in there if he keeps this behaviour up. 
Jake Lockley
Basically gets you to do criminal profiles for him. But doesn’t like for you to be out in the action if you have no training. 
(Even if you do have training he’s a bit unenthusiastic. “I have the suit, amor, yes? Why don’t you get a suit from another god and then we’ll talk.” Marc: “Do NOT do that.” Jake (100% teasing): “They could be Ra’s, then we’d have a sun and moon thing going on.” Marc is about to burst a blood vessel.)
Ask you to analyse horror movie characters for him. Is very serious when you ask and utterly delighted when you do.
Threatens Khonshu very quietly if he brings you up when Marc and Steven aren’t around.
Has a bit of a thing for you explaining things to him and has to fight with himself not to jump your bones most of the time.
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Thank you for reading!
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novvabee · 2 days ago
Text
The Boys in the Band
AN: I got carried away with this one, but here is the second part to the band au
word count: 2.8k
cw: language? there is nothing really bad about this one.
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Since your first show, you had been quite busy. You had opened for a couple bands at The Common Room, you booked a few nights at the popular club, The Hog’s Head, and managed to snag a spot in another festival. You had become popular very quickly amongst the girls, gays, theys, and young people in the city. Each gig you noted more and more fans, crowds growing, singing so loud and dancing so hard. 
This is what you always dreamed of, performing and making people happy. You lived for the drama and theatrics of it all, dressing up on stage and singing your heart out. The girls felt the same electricity, the same passion as you. That made your bond as a group that much stronger.
Not to mention, you were all good friends. Lily had mentioned to you that she and Mary had been messing around and found out they actually sounded really good together. Then they asked Marlene if she would play drums, which she said yes to in a heartbeat. And then Lily realized they needed a front woman, someone who could sing and bring the most energy. She thought of you, your bold and fierce attitude, your flirty and fun personality. And that is how you started.
The four of you wrote all the music you performed; the fun and girly songs by Mary, the campy over-the-top songs about women by Marlene, the sad and slow ballads by yourself, and the thought provoking and experimental ones by Lily.
Mary had the upbeat, girly, pop songs down. Her personality just flowed with inspiration for them, so those were the types of songs that you mostly sang and performed. You weren’t complaining, her songs were half the fun.
Marlene was full of something you all liked to tease her about; lesbian angst. But all that angst made for great songs to perform and were usually the crowd favorites.
Lily was slightly different, she was full of thoughts and ideas about the world, and her medium to get them out of her brain and into the world, was through music and lyrics. She wrote a lot of songs for women, for rights for all and for political change. If you had to pick, you would say hers were by far your favorites. She didn’t write often, but when she did, she had a message, something to say. You loved that about her.
Your songs were all ballads and sad. The girls teased you about that too, saying you shouldn’t let a man make you cry. It wasn’t exactly your fault, you had just gotten out of a long term relationship, and were drawing inspiration from all the confusing, mixed feelings that came with that. 
You had been dating this boy, Matthew, for about a year and a half, but everything seemed to take a turn for the worse a couple months ago. Your once sweet and charming boyfriend had turned into this cold, vacant man right in front of you. You two argued all the time, about small things as well as very important, serious things. He started accusing you of sneaking around, hiding things from him, cheating on him. None of it was true, and you tried to tell him that, but he wouldn’t listen to reason.
So you had enough. You told him that if you two couldn’t work things out, you didn’t know if you could continue on. He said nothing, just agreed with you. He didn’t try to mend the broken relationship, didn't try to fight either for you or with you. You would’ve taken either, but he just walked away.
As much as you tell yourself you’re doing so much better, that you have moved on and don’t care about him anymore, that isn’t exactly true.
You leaned into the band to distract yourself, putting everything you had in it so that you wouldn’t be left with those feelings. You’re just glad you had your friends, your girls who not only could help you through it, but also help you see this band through. They ignited you.
You felt that way even just sitting on the floor of Mary’s apartment. The space was cute and cozy. You girls were sprawled out over fluffy rugs, a plush couch, and two oversized bean bags. 
Mary was nodding her head along to a beat that only she could hear, writing down what you could only guess were new lyrics. Lily was strumming a tune she had been working on for over a week. You and Marlene were talking about what to wear for your upcoming show. 
“I think you'd look good in that pink leotard with the matching cowgirl boots.” Marlene recommended.
“The pink tassels or the pink heart?” you asked.
She thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “The tassels, that way you can wear the boots and maybe a cowboy hat,” she paused looking at the other two, “maybe we can try out Pink Pony?”
Excited, you clapped your hands together. You had been dying to perform this new song in front of a crowd and this was the perfect opportunity. You were playing at The Common Room again, but this time it was only you. Unlike every other performance you had, this time there were no openers, and no one else after you. You got a whole set for yourselves and the whole night to perform and party with fans.
The night was going to be nothing short of magical.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
James followed Remus and Sirius into the stage door of The Common Room.
All three boys wanted to come and see the performance that The Pixies were giving tonight. They had gained a lot of traction recently, seemingly overnight.
James didn’t feel at all jealous or threatened, they were doing just as well themselves, and they made entirely different music. He was more curious as to the fact that this band came out of nowhere.
The Marauders were used to competition revolving around the music world. They had been doing this for a while now, they understood the fight to fill spots and book sets. This band was just another contender now.
James was more frequently used to The Snakes stealing their gigs or spots in festivals, but now even they were pushed aside for this new band. The Snakes was led by Sirius’s little brother Regulus, another person on the list James hadn’t spoken to in a while. James knew that Regulus was a grudge holder, hell, he was related to Sirius, so he shouldn’t be surprised that Regulus cut all contact.
He fucked up, he knew he did. But he still wasn’t ready to think about it.
Slipping through the crowd and continuing to follow as best he could, all three boys ended up in the back of the already packed room. 
“Holy shit,” Sirius began, “there are so many people. How much were tickets?” He asked Remus.
Remus answered with a head shake. “Don’t know, Lily told me to come in through the back door so we wouldn’t have to pay.”
James’s stomach sunk, maybe he shouldn’t have come. Lily didn’t even invite him, he just tagged along with Remus. But, she had to have known that would happen, right? The boys didn’t do anything or go anywhere without each other.
“Oh my god! Hi,” came a voice from a girl to his right. “You’re The Marauders right? I love you guys. I’ve been to, like, a bunch of shows.” James recognized this girl. She was always front row or close enough, always giving Sirius a look that showed she wanted to fuck him, or at least become a groupie. “Could I get a pic?” she asked.
Sirius smirked. “Course you can sweetheart.” he said while she handed her phone to someone she was with. She stood between Remus and Sirius for the photo, then thanked the boys, obviously wanting the interaction to continue. 
James did not. He would look like such an asshole taking pictures with fans at Lily’s show.
The thought was cut short when the house lights dimmed and the stage turned a hazy pink color. James lost every thought in his head when you came out on stage.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Walking out onto the stage, you were met by a wall of sound, cheers and screams. Your nerves and butterflies instantly fluttered away. This is where you were meant to be, up here on this stage, in front of a crowd, making music. You had dreamed of this since you were a little girl.
You pranced yourself out in a cowboy hat and high heel boots, a matching sparkly and intricately tasseled leotard to top it all off. Your ass may be out, but that was the fun of it, the aesthetic. Especially for the new song you had prepared for the night. 
“Hello my friends.” you said, the cheers and screams somehow getting even louder. “We are The Pixies,” you introduced, “and we are here to give you the night of your life.”
You looked around the crowd to see so many faces enhanced with intricate and beautiful makeup looks, so many fans copying looks from your previous performances, so many bodies in bright colors. So many people who felt confident in what they were wearing and how they looked. 
“We’re gonna start off with a new one if that’s ok with you.” You announced you got an astounding amount of cheers, noting many phones launch into the air to record this new one. “This song is a fun one but more importantly,” you paused, the whole crowd hanging on your breath, “it is about what my mother thinks I am doing with my life. Here is Pink Pony Club!”
The girls started playing the intro and you walked to the front of the stage, sitting down, legs dangling off.
I know you wanted me to stay
But I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA
And I heard that there's a special place
Where boys and girls can all be queens every single day
You stood, walking back to center stage.
I'm having wicked dreams of leaving Tennessee
Hear Santa Monica, I swear it's calling me
Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene
She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream
You whipped around to the audience
God, what have you done?
You're a pink pony girl
And you dance at the club
Oh mama, I'm just having fun
On the stage in my heels
It's where I belong down at the
You started dancing and jumping around stage, Lily and Mary joining you, smiles plastered on their faces
Pink Pony Club
I'm gonna keep on dancing at the
Pink Pony Club
I'm gonna keep on dancing down in
West Hollywood
I'm gonna keep on dancing at the
Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club
The audience had settled into the performance, had gotten into the groove of the song, and joined in the dancing and the fun.
I'm up and jaws are on the floor
Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door
Blacklights and a mirrored disco ball
Every night's another reason why I left it all
I thank my wicked dreams a year from Tennessee
Oh, Santa Monica, you've been too good to me
Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene
She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream
God, what have you done?
You're a pink pony girl
And you dance at the club
Oh mama, I'm just having fun
On the stage in my heels
It's where I belong down at the
Pink Pony Club
I'm gonna keep on dancing at the
Pink Pony Club
I'm gonna keep on dancing down in
West Hollywood
I'm gonna keep on dancing at the
Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club
The crowd was going crazy, right along with you, until you slowed down and the girls played quieter for the bridge.
Don't think I've left you all behind
Still love you and Tennessee
You're always on my mind
And mama, every Saturday
I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away, saying
God, what have you done?
You're a pink pony girl
And you dance at the club
Oh mama, I'm just having fun
On the stage in my heels
It's where I belong down at the
You jumped up and danced like crazy, the crowd joining in, loving this new song. Some picked up on the lyrics and were singing them back to you, the feeling indescribable.
Pink Pony Club
I'm gonna keep on dancing at the
Pink Pony Club
I'm gonna keep on dancing down in
West Hollywood
I'm gonna keep on dancing at the
Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club
I'm gonna keep on dancing
I'm gonna keep on dancing
You kept dancing as Lily and Mary played the outro, out of breath and so happy. Once the song was finished, the whole building was filled with cheering. You looked to Mary, then over to Lily, they looked just as ecstatic, you could imagine Marlene felt the same. 
“Thank you, thank you!” you said into the mic. “Well, if you like that Common Room, we’re just getting started.”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
James had never seen a concert, a band like yours. There was no way to describe it, you were just, stars already. 
The rest of the concert was filled with just as much fun, joy as the first song. The dancing and singing and laughing was indescribable. 
The boys waited after the concert, waited until the last of the fans trickled out, then they made their way backstage. Walking down the halls and to the dressing room that had a piece of paper with the word “Pixies” in bold letters, Remus knocked on the door. 
The giggling and sounds of excitement were radiating from the room, loudly even with the door shut.
They waited for a moment before the door pulled open, revealing Mary. The smile dropped from her face for a moment before she put another one in its place, this one though, was more of an uncomfortable grimace more than anything. “Hey! I didn’t know you guys were here.” Mary said, opening the door to let the boys slide through. She hugged each of them on their way in.
James made eye contact with Lily who was on the couch with Marlene. She didn’t break away. He quickly looked over to Marlene and smiled. “We wanted to come and say great show!” he said, directed at them all, but not being able to look away from Marlene, who just smirked, knowing the situation and that James was incredibly uncomfortable right now.
“Thanks.” Marlene replied smoothly. 
Sirius noted the tension and decided to break it. “Where is she?” he asked.
All eyes went to him as Mary asked “Y/N?”
He looked at her and rolled his eyes, “No, the queen.” he said sarcastically.
“Are you going to try to sleep with her?” Mary asked, not holding back.
“What, no!” Sirius denied as if it wasn’t exactly something Sirius would do. “I just want to meet her. ‘Know thy enemy’ and all that.”
Lily scoffed. “She’ll be out in a minute, I think she's taking off her makeup.”
And as if right on que, you waltzed right out of the connected bathroom and into the dressing room. Smiling, you looked at the boys standing across from the couch. 
“Here she is!” Mary ushered you over, chipper and still energized from the performance. “This is Y/N, Y/N these are the boys in The Marauders.”
Your smile grew. “The Marauders? You guys were amazing at the festival.”
Sirius smiled back at you, charming as ever. “‘I'm Sirius.” you looked to the next boy, who was glancing at a fuming Lily.
“Uh, I’m James.” He smiled, seeming to come back to reality and out of whatever thought he was lost in. 
You looked at the final boy, tall and leaning against the wall. “And you’re Remus, right?” you asked.
He nodded. “Yeah we met a while back, lovely to see you again.”
“Lovely to see you! And it is lovely to finally meet you two.” you said to the newly acquainted Sirius and James, they nodded and smiled politely. There was a noticeable tension between everyone in the room, was there really that much of a rivalry?
“I think the boys were just heading out,” Mary said to the three boys standing in front of her. “Isn't that right?”
Sirius huffed and led the other two out throwing a “See you all soon.” over his shoulder as Mary escorted and followed them out into the hallway, shutting the door beyond her.
“That was… strange.” you said to Lily and Marlene. They just looked at each other and laughed, rolling their eyes. You didn’t understand.
“They're idiots.” Marlene supplied.
“They're boys.” Lily corrected.
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Taglist 💌:  @adharalikethestar @mayuwolfstar @ieatboysalive @maraudereestauderelb @bugg06 @slytherinambitious (yell at me if I forgot anyone)
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thybirbman · 4 hours ago
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Bird, I just need you to know, I think about these dudes daily. I think about them and their little cliche every single day and I think about modern Konoha would react to them and how they would react to modern Konoha and I think about them so much, it's probably not healthy. I don't have the words to explain how much I think about them, but it's so so much.
Specifically I think about how you drew Haruka, I can imagine her voice in my head so fucking clearly from just those two first shots of her. Deep and smooth, still womanly just way deeper than average, she kinda sounds like she's constantly on the verge of yawning, but she's actually only one step away from the most terrifying growl.
But also I love how you drew the twins and Ichigo holding up Sakumo like he's simba, which he basically is. It's just such a kid thing to do. You find out you're about to have a little cousin, and you're old enough that you know kids are a rarity in your family, so you're just like, "YOOOO! CHILD!!!!" Even if you don't 100% get it, you get it's a big deal and the only way you know how to deal with that is hold the kid high and tell everyone about how YOOOOO THERE IS A FREAKING CHILD YOOOOOO!!! And I love how mischievous the twins look. I wanted to make all the noises when Haru said, "Oh boy, exciting stuff," about Orochinatsu looking at ants while leaning on them with one arm. It's just so- I can tell they're interested but also they don't get it, they're faking getting it because it is interesting and they do wanna know more and they do care, but they don't GET IT get it. It's an older siblings trying to get it bc well, they got nothing better to do, but also they care, so they wanna hang out with you, and they wanna GET IT get it. Well, they do have better things to do, they have PLANS, but they care about Natsu and want them to know that they're not saying watching ants is stupid, (they think it's a lil stupid in that it's boring but they're not gonna say that bc they care and it's not them watching ants so they're not gonna ruin it for them for no good reason) Natsu is clearly enjoying themselves, just they have this idea and if you have the time maybe you wanna join-
Also, Tesuo's panel. I love his expression when inner him is going; "I'm finally free!!!~" in contrast to his outwardly uncaring facade. Just love his design in general. I love all your Hatake designs, I am so mentally ill about them, I love the Hatake, I'm obsessed with them, and I love your interpretation of them.
I love the Nara twins' designs and Hiname's design too- absolutely love the Hatake twins having decided to be here minions for the fuck of it. God, that is so in character and such a teenage thing to do. "Hey, let's just be this lil kid's slaves for the fun of it. I got nothing better to do, and I think she's funny, I wanna reinforce her bad habits. Also, I just wanna see what happens." 100% said by at least 59 teenagers every day. And Shiruka just being so done with the twins' shit, but also not leaving bc those are her besties (she never said this, and if you ever say she did, she is... not stabbing you, too much effort. She's putting in a bad word of you to her friends tho and they have all the energy in the world to socially destroy you). If they lived in the real world, they 100% met in college and became lifelong friends. Shiruka crashed on their couch for a while while between jobs, and Shiruka picked them up from bars more than once bc they were both too drunk to drive.
Also, I'd go on depth of my love of Orochinatsu and Hiname, but oof ouch my fingies are cramping, so just know I love them both just as much. Tho the twins + Shiruka are definitely my favorite, but I love all of them so much!
And I just- aaaaahhhhh! Too many feels, too few words. I love them all so much. I love the rivalry they got going on with other clan kids. I daydream about them going about their day and the Naruto cast doing a "watch the series/read the book they're from" trope type thing except they're watching their ancestors and also love them bc I cannot contain so much love in one person and I have to imagine hoards of people loving them as much as I do to function.
Silly, early Konoha lore and oc things drawn while thinking about this post
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!!! early konoha my beloved !!! I have so many thoughts ab it, I want to write a fic that's just silly early Konoha things viewed from the perspective of the less important clan members and their everyday lives. I'm aware the audience for that is incredibly small but I have too much fun just thinking ab it to really care!
Ichigo remains the only naruto oc Ive ever actually written for (in one step three steps), tho Haruka has been mentioned in multiple fics of mine now just bc she fills the role of Tobirama + Hashirama's blood aunt that I needed to be filled in my "Kakashi interacts with Tobirama w the knowledge that they are directly related" fics, of which there are now multiple
but yeah, take some silly art and lore comics !! I had fun while making these and will now probably put all these ocs on a shelf where I will not touch them for some more months
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inmyheaddd · 2 days ago
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✦ nobody gets me, you do - averyjameson
a/n: wooo games untold release day!!! the first part of this is so silly help i love max summary: avery has the worst interview in the world, with constant interruptions and snide comments. jameson is watching it from home, (along with his brothers, max, and lyra) and finds himself going to see avery, despite her team telling him no. wc: 2.4k
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max was watching her best friends interview live on her phone, sitting in her boyfriends bed.
she could read her like an open book, and could tell something was definitely wrong. 
“xander,” she called out the boy next to her who was solving a 9x9 rubix cube leisurely, laying on his back with his hands up in the air. “are you seeing this? look what they’re doing to my girl avery.”
xander sat up, and watched for a few seconds. to xander, she looked how she did the first time he ever saw her: scared, uncomfortable, but trying to put on a brave face.
after just two seconds, he called out at the top of his lungs: “jamesoooonnnn.”
no response. 
max pulled xander out of the room — much to his dismay, and finally spotted jameson in one of the libraries.
she barely got a word in before jamesons eyes flickered to her phone that was still playing the interview. his brows furrowed, “you’re watching the interview too?”
“…of course i am,” she deadpanned, “i’m literally avery’s girlfriend.
xander raised a brow from beside max, and jameson and him shared a confused look. “oh… right.” jameson said as he nodded slowly. 
“yeah…!” xander added. “how could i forget?...” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as his eyes flickered between jameson and max.
“you guys are weird…” max trailed off, confused at their strange reactions, when she said something so completely normal in her opinion. 
 “but look!” she exclaimed, “she literally looks so… uncomfortable. in their right mind allowed this interviewer to have a job?” she said, as the two brothers looked at the tiny screen on her phone showing avery’s interview live. 
they quickly ditched watching it on the phone, because jameson suggested they watch it on the large tv in one of their living rooms.  
max rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that sounded like, “of course you’d suggest that.” but nodded anyway as the three made their way to the nearest living room. 
avery shifted in her seat slightly, her smile just a little off and strained as the interviewer asked another prying question.
“so, how does it feel to have your entire life handed to you on a silver platter- or shall i say, gold?” the audience laughed at the last line. his tone was light, but the implications were hard to miss.
avery smiled, like landon had rehearsed with her, trying to maintain her composure. 
“who the hell is this guy?” jameson scoffed, “seriously?” he stood up from the couch they were sitting on and ran a hand through his hair. 
“i wouldn’t exactly describe it that way,” she responded far too fast, so she went to correct herself— otherwise she wouldn’t her the end of it from her team. “but i’m endlessly grateful for all the opportunities i have, and for all the experiences.” she said with a smile that looked a little too sweet and practiced, that it made jameson sick.
the interviewer leaned forward, a cruel smirk on his face that made avery want to grimace. “oh?” he challenged, “so you’re saying the billion-dollar inheritance didn’t change your life overnight?”
xanders usual playful grin was gone as he muttered, “avery looks like she’s about to walk out.”
“she should.” jameson was now pacing in front of the TV, unable to stand still any longer. “if i’d been there—”
“but you’re not,” grayson said calmly, standing beside another couch that lyra was sitting on. “she’ll handle it.”
lyra had heard everyone in the room a few minutes earlier, and suggested her and grayson go see what was going on. 
jameson’s eyes focused laser sharp on the tv once again as he heard the interviewer mention his name, before turning back to look at grayson.
“she shouldn’t have to handle it, grayson.” his voice cracked with frustration.
her heart raced, but she managed a small laugh. “i think anyone’s life would change with something like that. my life has changed a great ordeal, but it’s more complicated than—”
“and what about your relationship with jameson hawthorne?” he interrupted, not caring for a single word she had to say. “was that part of the package deal?”
the live audience laughed, and avery just smiled politely, frustration flashing behind her eyes that only the people closest to her could spot.
grayson was going to say something to calm his brother down, but didn’t get the chance to. 
“oh, this guy is a fucking comedian, isn’t he?” jameson ran another frustrated hand through his hair, chuckling lowly as he exhaled. “i’m getting him fired— bankrupt for gods sake.” 
he knew how snobby-privileged-rich-kid he sounded even to his own ears, but he didn’t care. 
“yeah,” lyra chimed in, who rarely ever agreed with jameson.  “i’m with you on that one.”
jameson shook his head, letting out a blow of air that it almost sounded like a whistle, “goddamnit, i don’t care, i’m going. her team and the paparazzi can go to hell for all i care.” 
he turned off the tv, he couldn’t bear to see avery uncomfortable for another second.
nash stood leaning against the wall, sending a slight nod to jameson. “you need a ride?” he asked, alluding to the motorcycle jameson loves to use when he needs to blow off steam. 
with no complaints from nash, jameson knew that he was doing the right thing. 
he muttered something under his breath along the lines of: “too dangerous,” and shook his head. and with that, he made his way to the stairs. 
everyone shared confused glances — jameson hawthorne, saying something was too dangerous? something has seriously changed. 
“is it just me… or is jameson being weirdly responsible right now.” xander muttered as he looked at the turned off tv infront of him. 
grayson and lyra shared a look that communicated the message; ‘…he’s still not responsible.’ but didn’t say anything.
max nodded at xander in agreement. “it’s the avery effect.” she stated matter-of-factly. “i don’t know about you, but whenever i’m around her i feel like… woah, i just want to be a better person, you know?” 
xander thought about it for a moment with his hand on his chin, and then nodded ,like max had said something profound. 
he looked up at her, and then they both nodded in sync, sharing a high five. 
nash, who was still standing leaned against the wall, stifled a laugh, shaking his head in amusement before walking out of the living room. 
he was definitely going to be mentioning the “avery effect” to libby later.
— 
avery sighed as she finally got in the dressing room, leaning her head back on the door and shutting her eyes. 
she got to go home in half an hour now, finally. 
atleast she was done with that interview. 
she walked away from the door, slumping in her chair as she brought her hands to her face, looking into the large hollywood style mirror infront of her. 
she was hyper-aware of everything around her—the feeling of her clothes scratching against her skin, the way her makeup suddenly felt heavy on her face, the ache in her cheeks from smiling, and the slight tremor in her hands. 
avery re-enacted the smiles she gave throughout the interview, wondering if they looked too fake, if she needs to start tweaking them, and overthinking just about every small detail.
5 minutes had passed, and she was still staring into the mirror. 
surely this wasn’t healthy, but she stayed practicing the answers she gave, sighing in defeat when she remembered how people would take it as snappy and defensive.
god, she wouldn’t have wished that interview from hell on her worst enemy. 
her reflection started to look weird to herself, but she kept practicing the right way to smile, to not look fake.
suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and her attention was diverted from the mirror for the first time in 10 minutes. 
“yeah, come in!” she called out quietly, eyes fixated on the door, nervous to see who it was.
hair and makeup? someone from her team already there to scold her? or god forbid, the interviewer— her thoughts were all silenced when she saw pair of familiar green eyes.
“jameson,” she breathed out, “what are you doing here?” 
his hair was a tad messier than usual, and his eyes seemed panicked as he looked around the room, until they finally met hers. 
he shut the door behind him and locked it all in one swift movement and walked over to her, standing behind her chair she was sitting on. 
his hands found her shoulders, but she stood up and turned around, meeting him face to face.
“heiress,” he put his calmest voice on as his hands found their way to the sides of her face. “i was watching— we were watching the interview at home.” his eyes flickered between hers, “are you alright?”
she smiled a little, letting out an exhale. “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” she shook her head in an attempt to portray she was confused. 
it was slightly difficult for her to act like she was perfectly fine, when she had spent the last 20 minutes doing nothing but overthink. 
he brought her out of her thoughts once again. “avery.”
“what?”
“i saw the look on your face— you may be a good bluffer, but not with your emotions. not with me, atleast.” 
unfortunately for avery, jameson could see what she was feeling when she tried her hardest to hide it, even from her own self. 
she sighed, trying to shrug it off. “jameson, it’s just one interview. they ask questions like that all the time—it’s part of the job.”
“i don’t care if it’s part of the job. you never asked for this.” his voice was hard-edged, his hands moving down her shoulders, then down to her hands. “you looked uncomfortable, avery. you shouldn’t have to be fine with that.”
“i was managing it,” she countered, tilting her head up to look at him, trying to ease the tension. “that’s what i’m supposed to do.”
her hands fiddled with his fingers with a mind of their own. it was a tell tale sign she was holding her feelings back. jameson knew it better than anyone.
“and that’s the problem.” he didn’t speak to her condescendingly, or in any way that was trying to belittle her. he was just worried. 
he simply cared, and it made avery’s heart soar. 
“they’re counting on you to just handle it every single time, like it doesn’t get to you.” his voice was low, “you shouldn’t act okay with it just because it’s easier. it’s not right.”
she wanted to prove that she was okay, that she wasn’t bothered, and that he didn’t have to worry about her, but she couldn’t, because then she’d be lying.
she let out a small sigh of defeat, “you’re right, jameson.” she shook her head, “i know… i just— i don’t want you to worry about me, or anyone to worry about me.”
“tough luck.” he replied, voice low but unwavering as his eyes searched hers. 
she opened her mouth to argue, but his hand gently brushed a stray piece of hair from her face, and the words seemed to fade.  
“its the worst thing in the world, seeing the hurt on your face. i hate it.” avery looked down, but he tilted her chin back up. “and,” he murmured, “i hate the people inferior who project their own problems onto you, because they feel like they can, even more.” 
avery couldn’t argue with the rest of what he said, but she needed to say something. 
“no one’s inferior to me.” she mumbled 
“please,” jameson said with a deep chuckle, “i could name quite a few.” he said. “for starters, that interviewer—“
avery cut jameson off with a light laugh, a sound that made jameson feel like the sun was shining down just for them two. 
his eyes flickered all around her face, his own smile growing as he committed the picture to memory. “he was the worst. am i wrong? tell me i’m wrong.” he teased, selfishly wanting more laughter out of avery because he loved it so much.
she shook her head vigorously, “no,” she laughed, “god, no. he was the worst. i hate that idiot.” 
jameson let out another one of his bigger chuckles, “keep going,” he joked, “there’s my heiress.” 
avery rolled her eyes jokingly, feeling the last of her worry fade away. “i wanted to punch him square in the face,” she said, and jameson rose his brows in amusement and nodded enthusiastically.
she continued, “but that doesn’t matter anymore, because you’re here now, and that’s more important.” 
he let out a breath, his shoulders loosing the last of their tension. “is that so?” he murmured, his hand slipping around her waist, pulling her a bit closer.
“yeah, it is.” and before he could protest or mention anything about her emotions any longer, she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 
he melted into her, arms wrapping around her fully, and tighter. she felt like she could stay in his arms for all eternity as she put her arms around his neck. 
the kiss was brief, reassuring, but enough to melt away the last traces of his worry.
when she pulled back, jameson was looking at her with softness in his eyes— one rarely seen by others, but always seen by her. 
his thumb brushed over her cheek, and his eyes travelled her face all over. he looked deep in thought, and avery could sense a question was stirring. 
“heiress?”
she hummed, “yes, jamie?”
“you know, i never mean to be,” he hesitated slightly, “overbearing, or controlling, i just…” he paused, pressing his lips together in a line as he racked his brain for the right words. 
“yeah, i know, jamie.” she nodded slightly with her hand brushing the sides of his face, understanding what he couldn’t verbalize.
his hand held her hand that was on his face, and moved it back down. 
both their hands were locked together now, and jameson rested his forehead on hers gently.
avery was so sure he would lean in for another kiss, perhaps one less tentative, now that she could see the tension had dissolved from his shoulders. 
she let herself relax, realizing that she stopped fidgeting with jameson’s hands a while ago. 
he brought her so much peace without even trying. she wondered if she ever did the same for him— and then jameson broke the silence. 
“i’m still getting him fired, by the way.”
avery laughed quietly, almost scoffing in amusement. she bit back her smile as she shook her head, taking a slight step back, hands still intertwined. “of course you are.”
“for you, heiress?” his cheshire grin slowly returned, reeling her back in close. he shrugged, “i’d do much worse.”
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@anintellectualintellectual  @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07
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whatifitis · 1 day ago
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♡ All The Stars Aligned - EO 31 ♡
Summary: Esteban is a huge fan of yours, so when he finds out he's going to a premiere for your new movie, he nearly shits himself.
Author's note: This was based on this request and I won't lie, I had quite a bit of fun writing this. I hope y'all like it! <3
WC: 2k+ some insta posts
CW: fangirl esteban, fluff, masterminding, pierre slapping the back of estebans head :)
The planets and the stars aligned, allowing Esteban to be in the same room, at the same time as you. 
It was no secret that Esteban has had a massive crush on you, having watched everything you’ve ever been in and gone through every piece of media you’ve ever participated in - even voicing his crush for you on several occasions. Practically everyone knew of his crush on you, you’d even seen some of the things he’d say about you, flattering you and making your cheeks flush. 
When his colleague, and friend, Charles Leclerc found out he was invited to the premiere, Charles knew he had to invite Esteban, and Pierre could come along as well. 
Esteban's reaction was priceless when he found out he was going to be in the same room as you. His scream could be heard from across the paddock. Charles made sure to record his reaction to show you at some point, if he is able to make a move or two on you at the premiere. 
Esteban knew he had to make a good first impression and come up with a plan on how he would make his move. Most people played checkers, but he was playing chess. He’s gonna lay all the groundwork and then just like clockwork, the dominos will cascade in a line. 
Now, Esteban had a few ideas on how he could impress you, but which one will be the best route? He could either pretend he doesn’t know you and play it cool, but that would be impossible considering the whole world knows about his crush on you. 
After some deliberation with Pierre and Charles, Esteban settles on what he calls “The plan of all plans that will put all the other plans to shame”, it’s a long title and he is well aware but who cares, he’s gonna be in the same room as his celebrity crush, no one would be chill if they were in his shoes right now. 
The plan is simple really, in one of the films you starred in, you and your love interest communicated via handwritten signs on paper. Kind of like the ‘You Belong With Me’ music video by Taylor Swift. Esteban came up with the idea because it is his favorite film ever and he thought it’d be a cute way to get your attention. Now, as for what he was gonna write on said piece of paper? He had no clue. He knew he was gonna carry at least two pieces of paper, one with an initial message and another with his phone number. 
After much deliberation with himself, Esteban decided on a quote from a book he had read a long time ago. He wasn’t sure if you would understand the reference but he thought it would be cute regardless. 
Now, the amount of paper he went through, trying to make the sign look as perfect as he can, is not important information. Just know he went through hell trying to make everything perfect. 
Esteban stood back for a moment to admire his work. A white piece of paper with the words ‘No matter the weather, I want to be with you’. If this fails, Esteban will never face the world again. Ok, that’s a bit of a stretch but he would be very devastated. 
The day of the premiere, the boys were in their hotel room getting ready, watching as Esteban nearly had a mental breakdown. 
“Non, non, non, non.” Pierre and Charles hear coming from the restroom. They watch as Esteban comes racing out in only a pair of underwear, holding his dress shirt on a hanger. “I’ve steamed AND ironed this shirt and there’s still a fucking wrinkle on this fucking FUCK.” Esteban just screams. 
Sharing a look of concern with each other, Pierre and Charles walk up to their friend to see if they can get rid of the wrinkle that he supposedly can’t get rid of on his shirt. 
There’s no wrinkle, “Mate,” Pierre begins, putting a hand on Esteban’s shoulder, “There is no wrinkle. The shirt has no wrinkles.”
“Yes, it does! It’s right there.” Esteban exclaims, pointing at a wrinkle free spot on the shirt.
With a sigh, Charles takes the shirt from Esteban’s hand and tells him, “I’ll take care of the shirt, you finish getting ready. We need to be out the door in an hour.” “An hour?! Oh mon dieu. I still need to iron my pants and don’t even get me started on my hair.” Esteban says, rummaging through his suitcase, looking for god knows what. 
Charles grabs Esteban’s pants and shirt with him into the restroom to iron and/or steam them. Meanwhile Pierre did the best he could in aiding Esteban whilst having a drink or two. 
After a very chaotic hour of Hurricane Esteban, the boys were already walking out the door, making their way to the theater for the premiere. Of course, Esteban was still losing his head, asking the boys a million questions such as, “Did I bring the papers?” Oui, “Do I have my watch on?” Oui, “Do we have the correct location for the theater?” Oui, “Do we-”
“Esteban!” Pierre shouts, “Shut up before I knock you out so hard, you won’t make it to the premiere.” giving the fakest smile known to man. This very quickly got Esteban to keep quiet. 
By the time the boys arrive at the red carpet, Esteban is practically shaking in his boots. He’s scanning the crowd over and over again, listening to everything and anything to get a sign as to where you are. 
“Mate, I think we’ll know when she arrives. I think we will go deaf.” Charles reassures Esteban. 
Esteban looks at his friend and realizes, maybe he can take a breather for now. He can try and calm his nerves before your arrival. 
The boys felt so out of place and lost, they decided to stay in one spot until they found you. That plan didn’t work in their favor though, after about 5 minutes, a crew member for the premiere came up and told the boys to move so that the photographers didn’t have any obstructions in the photos. So they moved to another section of the red carpet, standing in place until they were told once again to move because some dancers would be coming by to do a performance. After being told to move about 8 times, the boys finally found a spot to settle into. 
Esteban took this as a sign that he could finally begin to calm down and relax. They have a nice, safe spot now, one where it would be easy to spot you upon your arrival. Of course, this moment of calming didn’t last long. 
As soon as the crowd of fans started screaming their lungs out, Esteban joined in as well, even though he still hadn’t caught sight of you yet. Charles and Pierre had to cover their ears, hoping they wouldn’t lose their hearing at this moment. 
Esteban had still been screaming for a minute straight before Pierre wrapped his hand around Esteban’s mouth, trying to calm him down, and keep him from embarrassing Charles and himself. Once Esteban had calmed down, he licked Pierres hand. 
“Putain de salope.” Pierre grimaced, shaking his hand as if trying to flick off the spit, “Pourquoi?”
“You were gonna embarrass me! If Y/n saw you covering my mouth with your hand, who knows what she would’ve thought?!” Esteban said, throwing his hands in the air. 
Pierre just stared blankly at Esteban, “I would’ve embarrassed you? Okay, mister. You were screaming your head off like a fucking goat. I just saved your ass.”
“Whatever, now, where is she?” Esteban stands on his toes, as if he isn’t the tallest fucker there. 
In the midst of forcing and faking smiles, your eyes met his through the crowd. 
Putain de merde, thought Esteban. You looked absolutely ethereal in person. You were adorned in a pastel, tulle dress. Pink, green, and blue layers of fabric flow down your body, your torso wrapped by a corset of lace.
He could not stop staring at you, completely enamored by you. 
In the blink of an eye, your silhouette started to make its way to him. 
Remember that plan Esteban had? The one with the pieces of paper with a quote and his phone number? Yeah, he didn’t remember. He was too starstruck to even remember his own name. 
“Hi, you’re Esteban, right? I’m Y/n.” you state. 
“I-, ye- eug- I-” is all Esteban could get out, that is until Pierre smacked the back of his head and ran off into the crowd, followed by Charles as he did not want to be left standing next to a stuttering Esteban. “Hi, yeah. My name is Esteban. How are you?”. There was no hiding his heart eyes from you. It was so painfully obvious, written all over his face. 
“I’m okay, kind of nervous, I’ll be honest. How about you? How are you finding this chaos?”
“It’s really interesting, actually. This is my first time doing something like this so I’m enjoying the show.” he says, giving you the cheesiest smile ever. It was quite cute actually. 
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Just before you go to continue the conversation with Esteban, you get called away by your manager, needing you to complete some interviews before heading into the theater for the screening of your new movie.
“Shit, I’m sorry but I have to go. I’ll see you later though?” you ask, watching as Esteban nods his head in approval. As you pick up the skirt of your dress, turning to walk away, Esteban asks “How did you know who I was? How did you know my name?” 
Without a word, you simply wink at him and make your way to your manager across the carpet. 
Absolutely stunned, Esteban turns around to ask his friends if he just imagined that whole interaction, only to find no one around him. Where the fuck did they go?
-=+=-
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entertainmenttonight Y/n L/n stuns in new (i have no clue who created this dress, couldn’t find the creator)’s dress, as she is welcomed by a warm crowd upon her arrival at the premiere of her new movie.
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User98 Did yall see y/n and esteban ocon together? 👀
↳User04 My worlds are colliding if that’s true
↳User77 who’s esteban ocon?
↳User32 he’s a f1 driver and he currently drives for the team Alpine!
User47 Y/n could hit me with her car and i’d say thank you
-=+=-
It was nearing time for the boys to head into their assigned room in the theater to watch the film and Esteban was growing anxious by the minute. He really wanted to be seated soon so he didn’t miss a moment of the film, but he couldn’t find his dumbass friends. 
After a few minutes of calling and texting them, receiving no reply, Esteban decided to just leave the boys wherever they were and he made his way inside the theater. 
On his walk to the correct theater room, Esteban couldn’t believe his eyes. The whole time he was freaking out about finding his friends, they were by the food tables the whole time?! Eating chocolate from a fountain?!
“Hey! Where the fuck did you guys go? And why are you eating chocolate without me?” Esteban questioned, mainly upset about the chocolate. 
With a mouth full of chocolate covered snacks, Charles explained “We didn’t want to be caught in the whirlwind of awkwardness that you were exhibiting. And then we found the fountain.”
Esteban just shook his head in disbelief, the utter betrayal he was feeling at the moment. He just took one last look at them before telling them to clean up so they could go sit in their seats. 
When the boys made it to their seats, the screening was about to begin. They watched as the director of the film walked before the screen, only to realize which room they were in. They were gonna be watching the film with the cast and crew?! They all exchanged some looks of disbelief and wondered if perhaps they had walked into the wrong room. Upon inspection of their tickets, they were indeed in the correct room. But how?
After a quick Q&A with the cast and the director, the film began and through the entirety of it, Esteban was captivated. He couldn’t even pay attention to the plot and the story running in front of him. Instead, he was captivated by you, the way your features would illuminate the entire room. His eyes were glued to your figure, always waiting for the next scene that would solely focus on you - you being the only thing that he wants to see for the rest of the night. 
As soon as the film ended, the room erupted in applause and cheers for you and the cast. You and your colleagues stand and bow, thanking the audience for everything and applauding the crew members who helped the film become what it was. 
As the applause and cheers continue, you turn, scanning the room for Esteban. Once you’ve spotted him, you watch as he claps and shouts loudly with a smile plastered across his face. You take it as a chance to blow him a kiss. He all but falls to the floor, needing Pierre and Charles to catch him and hold him up. 
You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene. This man is the funniest and sweetest person you’ve known, and you can’t wait to see him afterwards. 
As everyone leaves the theater, the boys slowly walk about, listening to Esteban rave about the film and how you were so beautiful and talented and smart. He was even gushing about the moment you blew him a kiss. 
“To me! She blew a kiss to me! Can you believe that?” he asks, pointing to himself and squealing like a kid in a candy shop. 
Just as they're about to leave. Esteban feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns and is surprised to find you standing there. 
“Hey, how’d you find the film?” you ask.
“I really enjoyed it. You were amazing, of course. Probably the best part of the film in my opinion. 
You softly laugh, “Quite the flatterer you are.”
“I try” Esteban shrugs, “ehm, I won’t lie. When I found out I was going to be here and that I might get a chance to meet you, I sort of came up with a plan on how I was going to impress you and such. It didn’t really go to plan, “ you both laugh, “I had this plan where I was going to hold up a piece of paper, like as a reference to one of your movies, and then I had another paper with my phone number on it, where I asked you on a date.”
“Can I see the paper?” you ask, genuinely curious as to what it says. 
You watch as Esteban reaches into his suit pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper and hands it to you. As you unfold the paper, your eyes widen when you read the words. 
“Oh my god! This is a quote from my favorite book, how did you know?” you look up at him, shock and surprise drawn all over your face. 
“What? It is? I genuinely didn’t know. I wrote it cause it’s from a book I read and I thought it was cute.”
You smile at his words, pocketing the paper for yourself. 
“Well, I guess I have to be honest too. I was the one who orchestrated our first meeting.”
“Huh?” Esteban lets out, jaw dropped. 
“I’ve seen the edits and such that fans tag me in, of you talking about me. I then went down a rabbit hole of videos and stalking your instagram. I thought you were cute and funny and I really wanted to meet you. So, when I found out Charles was already invited to the premiere, I messaged him on instagram, asking if he could bring you with him. He agreed and then I had to make sure you were in the right spot for our meeting, a spot that was the most secluded on the carpet, so we could have an actual conversation. I had my team and some of the crew members keep pushing you boys to different spots of the carpet until you went to where I wanted you guys. I also had them place you in the same theater room as me for the actual preview of the movie.” you confess, feeling your face heat at the confession. What if he thought you were a freak?
“You masterminded me.” was all he said. 
“What?” you question. 
“You masterminded me. You were the one playing chess while I was playing checkers. I was supposed to be the one to mastermind you!”
The both of you stand there in silence before absolutely cackling over the fact that you both tried so hard to get the others' attention. 
The chain reaction of countermoves assessed the equation of the two of you, so you couldn't lose. 
-=+=-
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y/n such an enchanting night under the twinkling stars 🩷
Just wanted to say a quick thank you to the cast and crew who helped make all of this possible and to the fans for showing up and showing out! It was amazing meeting every single one of you and I can’t wait for you all to see the film 
You and I ended up in the same room, at the same time, because I’m a mastermind 😉
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User99 ehm, wtf is up with that last sentence?
Estebanocon was an amazing night and I’m very thankful for our meeting 😌
Charlesleclerc thank you y/n for inviting us, the film was wonderful (sorry about esteban btw)
↳User44 now charles… wdym when you apologize for esteban 🤨
Pierregasly how he pulled you, i have no clue
↳User01 WHAT?!
↳Pierregasly what 🧑‍🦯
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