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gguk-n · 3 days

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Chapter 3- Heartfelt confession

Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Oscar decides he wants to spend time with Y/N. The more time he spends, the more his feelings solidify. He likes her a lot. He just hopes she likes him too.

Lando was the happiest person when summer break began since he would no longer have to hear his teammate pine over his best friend's sister. Oscar was a quite and stoic man and nothing could elicit a response from him except Y/N. Even the thought of her getting hurt would make Oscar worry to no end; so he would resort to stealthy pestering Ansel while away for races on what was going on with his sister who honestly was of no help since he lived in another city. So, Oscar now depended on his mother and he would be lucky to catch glimpses of Y/N behind his mom on rare occasions. Nicole was happy her son was calling way more often then usual and she wasn't about to complain. Oscar had ulterior motives and would ask about everyone in hopes of finding out what Y/N was up too. He was sure his sisters could take care of themselves.

Summer break couldn't come any sooner for Oscar either. Oscar was back in Australia enjoying the cooler weather especially after he found out Y/N would also have July off from school when he over heard his mother talking to Y/N about her plans for July. Even Oscar wasn't sure if he ever booked plane tickets any faster than he did in that moment. Oscar decided to 'surprise' his family or another way to talk to Y/N. He texted her asking her to pick her up from the airport since he wanted to surprise everyone. That's how Y/N found herself awake at the crack ass of dawn since Oscar doesn't seem to understand timezones or so it seems and was landing in Melbourne at 5 am. Y/N would rather be asleep on the rare few days she got off from school without having to plan for the next year or make up a teaching plan for the next week. But here she was driving to the airport with the largest coffee mug she could find and a hoodie with Oscar's number on it. It was the warmest hoodie she owned and she had forgotten it was Oscar merchandise that she had stolen from her sibling.

Oscar was stood at the airport arrival terminal when Y/N drove her car to him. She rolled the window down, "You should be grateful I've known you for years because I was ready to leave you stranded at the airport when my alarm rang" she called out and popped her trunk open. Oscar placed his bags in and climbed into the passenger seat. "Thanks for picking me up" Oscar said. "I love you guys too much to explain to Nicole how I lost her son" Y/N replied after taking a sip of her once hot coffee. Oscar didn't really hear anything after 'i love you' honestly you wouldn't either if your crush directed those 3 words at you in any context. He gathered himself, "Take me to your place" Oscar asked rather commanded but who's asking. "What? Why?" Y/N asked now fully looking at Oscar who's eyes had travelled down to the hoodie Y/N was wearing and you could clearly see OP81 plastered all over it if you looked carefully enough since the hoodie looked like it was Y/N's favourite in her collection of clothes. "You're wearing my hoodie" Oscar pointed out. "What? This is my hoodie" she corrected. "It has my name and number on it" he corrected. And for the first time since she woke up she looked at herself and realised that she left the house in the hoodie she slept in which just happened to be Oscar's merchandise. "You support my merchandise" Oscar gleamed. "Ansel bought it, I stole it from him" she commented. Nothing was dimming Oscar's shine. He was just winning, in his eyes, since he landed.

"Why do you wanna come to my place?" she asked getting back to the topic. "I'm planning a surprise and I need to look prepared for it" he said while stealing glances at Y/N in his hoodie. "Since when do you plan surprises?" she asked. Oscar just shrugged and they drove to her apartment. Y/N helped Oscar grab his stuff from the trunk and brought him to her flat. The house was a mess but Oscar had seen worse. "There's coffee in the kitchen. The bathroom's that way. The guest bedroom is to your left. If you need anything, I'll be asleep in my room that's in front of you." she pointed around. "Are you going back to sleep?" Oscar asked with his puppy eyes. "I was going too, but you look like you want something. So spill" she stated. "Can we have breakfast together? I miss your pancakes, like the Japanese style one's you tried to make" Oscar pouted. "Those abominations can't be called pancakes. Now, I do make a really good pancake. So, for the flattery I will fulfill your wish" she offered.

Oscar got changed from the jeans he was wearing to a sweatshirt and joggers. Y/N had ditched the OP81 hoodie much to Oscar's dismay to wear another sweatshirt and joggers. He was hovering around her as she tried to make the pancakes, making her snap. "Okay, Osc, sweetheart, can you stop moving around so much. I can't work when people are in my space." she reprimanded him in the nicest way possible. Oscar took his place on the breakfast bar like a child that had been told off. Y/N served the pancakes with fresh fruits and maple syrup. "I didn't think those pancakes could get any better" Oscar moaned after taking one bite. Y/N smiled at him, "You flatter me" she smiled back. "Can you help me decide how to surprise my family?" Oscar asked. "I knew those weren't empty praises" she laughed.

Y/N was sat thinking while munching on her pancakes all the while Oscar would steal glances at her. "You should turn up to the house with flowers. I think they would like that" Y/N said after much deliberation on her part. "That doesn't sound grand" Oscar pointed out. "They are your family. IDK how to make it grand" she retorted. "Maybe you should take your time. It's like you want to get rid of me as soon as possible" Oscar pouted. This boy needs to stop pouting because for some reason his puppy eyes are working on her and she doesn't know how to get out of here, she thought. "Oscar, baby, I have holidays for the next few days before school and I would like to do stuff I can't when I'm busy" she said. Oscar lost his train of thought when she called him baby. "We can do stuff together" Oscar stammered, "As a thank you for helping me surprise my family" he finished. Y/N wasn't winning today, or ever again with Oscar for that matter. "Please" Oscar begged now holding on to both of her hands. Y/N for the first time since he became friend's with her brother looked at him, like really looked at him, his chocolate brown eyes or his cute little freckles that littered his face or the moles that were splattered across his face and neck; this stay wasn't going to end well for her she thought. She couldn't think straight when his warm hands were holding her's like they were the most fragile thing. She just nodded to him, pulling her hands away with a slight blush that was starting to form on her cheeks to put the dishes away.

Y/N and Oscar were sat on the sofa while Y/N was flipping through movies to watch on Netflix. "I thought you were sleepy" Oscar voiced. "I'm not anymore, someone wanted to have pancakes" she chided. Oscar just smiled and he looked like the cutest cat making her smile. She realised what she was doing so she quickly handed the remote to Oscar, "Watch whatever you want, I'm gonna get some stuff done around the house" she said walking to her room. Oscar switched the TV off and followed her into her room. "I can help" he offered, making Y/N jump. "Oscar, you scared me" she said. "Sorry" he apologised with a small smile. "You should get some sleep, you must be jet lagged. I'll wake you up for lunch" she said now pushing Oscar towards the guest room. "Try to get some sleep" she reiterated, closing the door behind her. That's how Oscar found himself lying on the bed while staring at the ceiling, imagining what it would be like to enjoy domestic bliss with her.

At some point in his daydreaming, Oscar fell asleep and only woke up at around 5 pm. He stumbled out of the room to a much cleaner flat and Y/N making dinner. "You're up" she said. "You didn't wake me up" he asked. "You looked so cute sleeping, I couldn't" she cooed. She thought I was cute, Oscar thought. "Cute in a OMG!! baby is cute way or cute in a damn that boy cute way" he asked. "Who's teaching you this stuff?" she laughed. Oscar just shrugged; "Obviously, OMG!! baby is cute way" she laughed. Oscar's shoulders seem to fall. "Dinner's almost done" she said getting ready to serve the food. Y/N and Oscar sat on the table with their plate of food. Oscar was playing around with his food; "Is it not good?" she asked. "No, no it's delicious." he replied. "But you haven't touched your plate" she pointed out. "I...do you still see me as the kid that your brother befriended?" Oscar mumbled. "Oscar, you are the kid my brother befriended" she highlighted. "But, do you see me as you know, someone who is older and more mature?" he questioned. "You are older now Oscar, and more mature too. You drive a Formula One car now, you have a life and career and we are all so proud of you." she said. Oscar hummed, "Are you proud of me?" he asked. "So proud. If you are worried about the season, it's your first season. You'll get better with time. The cars getting used to you, you're getting used to it. I'm sure next year will be the best ever. Mark my words" she reassured. Y/N thought Oscar was having anxiety with his career when he asked her that, but that was far from the truth.

"I know how to surprise everyone" she announced after dinner. "How?" Oscar asked. "We could throw a party at my place and then invite everyone. I think Ansel's visiting soon too. And surprise, you're here." she explained. "When will we do that?" Oscar asked. "Ansel is coming in 2 days, on Friday night we can have everyone come in. I'll send out the invites and you can greet everyone once they come in. I think they'll love it" she elaborated further. Oscar liked that he could stay here for a couple more days. "You're gonna have to help me" she said. "I will" Oscar agreed.

The next few days were spent cleaning the place, planning a menu out for the dinner, wrapping up the presents Oscar got everyone. They sent out the invites and everyone agreed to meet her at 7 pm on Friday. The two of them spent all of Friday decorating the place. You would find the two laughing along or having fun through out the whole planning. Oscar hoped that she would see him as more than just a kid. The time they spent together was precious for Oscar. He had bought her a necklace which he asked her to wear on Friday. "Oscar, this is beautiful. But it must be expensive" she said handing it back. "You should wear it today" he said placing it in her hands once again. "I can't take this. It looks so expensive" she mentioned admiring the necklace. "Please, it took me forever to pick out" Oscar begged. Y/N conceded.

They got dressed for the party. Y/N was wearing a navy blue midi dress, to highlight the necklace. She was struggling to zip up her dress which Oscar saw when he came to check up on Y/N. He quietly walked in and zipped up the dress; "Let me" he said. "Thanks" she whispered, her breath stuck in her throat as she felt his finger hover over her lower back. Before she could take the necklace out of the box, Oscar beat her to it, moving her hair aside, his fingers brushed past the small exposed area on her neck, bringing the necklace around and hooking it up. "Done" he mentioned. Y/N was looking at herself in the mirror with Oscar standing behind her, a small smile on his face. She turned around, "how does it look?" she asked. "Gorgeous" Oscar replied. Y/N was blushing and for the first time Oscar saw it. He felt his chest swell up at the thought of making her blush.

Everyone showed up almost at the same time, Oscar was waiting for everyone in the living room. The house was a bit cramped with everyone present but the laughter that could be heard echoing through the house was well worth it. Nicole almost cried when she saw her son and Chris gave him the biggest hug. Both of Y/N's parents hugged and greeted Oscar like their own son was visiting. Oscar brought out all the presents he had bought and you could hear everyone chatting away about the presents while Ansel and Oscar stood a little further away from the group; "You didn't even tell me" Ansel said skeptically. "It was supposed to be a surprise" Oscar reasoned. "Sure" Ansel replied sounding not so sure of Oscar's answer. "Don't you like the present I got you" Oscar quizzed. "Yeah yeah, I know you're trying to bribe me. Just don't take too long." Ansel said. "What do you mean by that?" Oscar asked and Ansel just shrugged his shoulders while walking away to help his sister set up the dinner.

Everyone had taken a plate and were sat where ever they could find a place. Y/N was playing with her necklace every chance she got; "Where did you get the necklace from? It is beautiful" Y/N's mother asked her. "You should ask Oscar, he got it for me" she replied after quickly swallowing the food in her mouth. "Now did he" Oscar's mother asked looking at him. "I just saw it while passing and got it" Oscar dismissed everyone. Lando will tell you, and I quote, "He sent me links to multiple luxury brand's necklaces which he vetoed within minutes of staring at them since they weren't good enough for his Y/N. Then he started dragging me around to a new shop in every city we visited and made the employee of the shop show him their entire inventory. It took him months to decide on the damn necklace. I thought I would have to get some one to craft him one" end quote. But Lando wasn't here and no one was about to know.

Oscar offered to stay back after the party even though Y/N insisted that he leave with his family. "I'm the one that wanted to surprise them. I should help you clean up." he stated. "The party was my idea" she retorted. "Let him help you Y/N. Come home early tomorrow Oscar" his father called out as everyone filed out. "Good luck" Ansel and Aldric called out simultaneously as they bid them good bye.

The house wasn't as destroyed and they were done with cleaning the place up in a few hours. It was almost 2 AM when Oscar finally sat, sprawled out on the sofa. Y/N was putting the last of the dishes away. She walked towards the sofa when her toe got caught on the mat on the floor and she extended her arms to brace herself from the fall. Oscar with his quick reflexes caught hold of her extended arms, stopping her mid-way. "You haven't outgrown your clumsiness" Oscar stated, his face inches away from hers. "I have" she whispered. "What would you do if I wasn't there to save you?" Oscar asked now pushing her back on her feet and placing her arms on her side. "I'm perfectly capable of saving myself" she retorted. "Never said you weren't. But I wouldn't mind being there for you" he retorted back. "Why would you be there for me?" she asked. "Because I like you" he said. There he said it, the words that he wanted to say for years. "Oscar" she began, this didn't sound good to Oscar. "You're my brother's best friend. I can't" she began. "But you would if I wasn't" he interrupted. "No, I wouldn't. You're younger than me" she said. "By a year, it doesn't even matter honestly" Oscar reasoned. "You probably feel this way since we've been spending a lot of time together lately" she said. "I've felt this way for years. Don't demean my feelings for you, Y/N. Do you know what you do to me?" he asked. "Oscar, you're ugh...you're you and it would never work out" she said. "You've thought about me" Oscar asked hopefully. "That's not the point" she said. "It is" Oscar pointed out. "I like you Y/N, I have for as long as I've known you. This isn't some silly crush I had when I was 12 or because of the close proximity. You make my heart beat fast and my tongue doesn't know how to speak around you. I've repressed my feelings for you for far too long. I just don't know if I've ever felt this way about anyone." Oscar said. "Oscar, you're" she began but was cut off; "I'm not acting impulsively. Take your time. I'm here for a couple more weeks. I'll leave tomorrow morning but I'll be at my house. Just think about it. Think about us, think about me. For Once" Oscar begged walking towards the guest room. While Y/N was stood there shocked, in her living room.

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reonnex · 1 day

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The infantilization of book!Wylan and show!Wylan really needs to be looked at.

This isnt a call out, or trying to hate on anyone, just an overall thing I've seen throughout being in this fandom

In the books while Wylan is a child he is also 16. People underestimate him into innocent and even younger. And while he is naive, this does not make him innocent. He has his own morals, own judgment that havent been ripped away from him yet. He is just trying to survive.

People use the "we could wake them up line" a lot snd I agree! But to also look at the full lines as well

Wylan gestured to the guards. "Is it safe to leave them, you know-"

"Alive? I'm not big on killing unconscious men."

"We could wake them up."

"Pretty ruthless, merchling. Have you ever killed anyone?"

"I'd never even seen a dead body before I came to the Barrel." Wylan admitted.

"It's not something to be embarrassed about," Jesper said, surprising himself a little. But he meant it. Wylan needed to learn to take care of himself, but it would be nice if he could do it without getting on friendly terms with death."Make sure the gags are tight."

This isnt him being ruthless. Its him being logical. He is taking what Jesper says to heart. Wake them instead of killing them unconscious. Which they do end up tying the soldiers to the pole and leaving. Him having morals shouldn't contribute to claims of him being innocent.

Wylan is worried about hurting people but will do so if nessecasry to save his friends. We can see this in the show and books. In the show he does not want to make bombs for Kaz, but does so in the end because he acknowledges he has to survive. He is worried about Alby, but goes along with the plan still.

All these are what makes Wylan, wylan. It is his fundamentals, his morals and idels. They are not however claims to see how sweet and innocent he is and how he was corrupted.

Ontop of this, while it is never y it is hevaily implied that Wylan is also autistic. (Also, correct me if im wrong please, but im pretty sure Jack did talk about this.) Autistic people get infantilizated already, and I've had my own fair share of this as well. ( I am autistic and have a learning disabilitiy, as well a speech impedament that I still struggle with.) I have to work harder to make sure people treat me as a twenty year old. Because that is my age, and there is a significant difference in attitude in how people treat me when they know im autistic, and when they don't.

And for Wylan, I feel like its the same issue. While it may not be intentional, ive been people coo over the fact Wylan has done simple tasks or teen experiences. Him having Jesper read to him, getting flustered when talking to him, Wylan not understanding social cues as well as others and taking things to face value.

You can be excited for him and think it's sweet, but to also acknowledge that there is a line between "Thats adorable" and "He's adorable." Wylan is someone who is neurodivergent. He was extrmetly sheltred as a child and was never given the proper tools to help his dyslexia, due to this he has struggles that shouldn't be overlooked or seen as "cute" when he experiences outcomes due to the situation he was in. Whenever he doesn't understand social cues, i.e., "Whos mark." People giggling and saying it's silly or cute when he doesn't understand the cues. That's infantilizating! You are viewing things he struggles with in the lens of watching a child understanding the world. Which Wylan isn't. He is a teenager, no matter the circumstances. His age should be understood.

This infantilization also effects wesper in how people view the two of them. Many people view black people as "older, the man in the relationship, rugged" while the white person is seen as the "women, younger, more innocent."

Infact, I think the show only worsned it for Wylan. As now there are faces to names.

Jack does have a youthful face, but still looks his age. I have a babyface and even now at 20 I look much older then I did at 16. The same goes for Jack. He cant control how he looks but because of his youthful features people only push for this racially hetaronormative mindset more between Wylan and Jesper (Even if its untitional).

Even Kit looks his age as well and has a baby face. He's 29 right now but was in his mid twenties during filming. Season 1 was filmed back in 2019 but due to covid post production got set back, and season 2 was filmed in the beginning of 2022. But why is it only Wylan who is infantilizated? Jesper struggles just as much with his ADHD and trauma as Wylan does.

Jack and Kit are only one year apart, the same in the books but still ive been Wylan be portrayed as the "poor innocent child who was abused." and Jesper as the "he needs to get over his addiction hes a grown man/ he's too mean to Wylan."

In society now so many black teens are seen as adults and treated as such, while white teens are seen as younger and not pushed so hard. The same can be seen for wesper.

Ive even seen people on Tiktok and other socials claim that Jesper was rude to Wylan and abusive. (WHERE???). Both Wylan and Jesper have said things that hurt the other, and they both apologized for it, and get grilled as well. In the show and books they learn and grow. The infantilization of Wylan doesnt hurt just him but plays into racial stereotypes and also microagressions. Why is it that when the white character is calling someone out its "deserved" but when the black character (who might I add had no idea) makes a side comment he is labled as cruel and abusive?

In so many shows and books the black character is usually portrayed as the joker character. Six Of Crows does this as well, which is something important to not ingore. Jesper is seen as the flirty joke character. However the only difference is soc also show more sides to his character by letting him be vulnerable. Letting Jesper show his struggles to the audience as well, how his neurodivergece effects him, letting him dress in skirts and bold colors that step away from the gender norm. So many times in media the black character is just there for shits and giggles, or is used as the villan/antagonist.

It believe its really important to understand this, and to acknowledge if your infantilizating him, or even using microagressions on Jesper unintentionally, then to learn to understand why and to grow from them.

#I had words I had to say #once again this is not a callout post!#please dont go hunting for any post as this has been on my mind for months now #I just see it keep happening over and over again and wanted to say something #six of crows #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #wesper #shadow and bone

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 2 days

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In Love and War (8)

Summary: The aftermath of all her family secrets might be more chaotic than Reader bargained for when her powers suddenly start to flare. Good thing her Warlord has more than a few ideas how to help navigate it ;)

Content Warnings: Depressive thoughts, Reader mentions wanting to die; Suggestiveness, Slight SMUT; Canon Typical Violence

Author's Note: To make up for the last chapter being so short, please enjoy that flirty little bastard being a menace! ;)

Chapter 7/Masterlist

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I don’t sleep at all that night. I lay there, Rhysand sleeping soundly beside me, exhausted from the events of the last couple of days. He’d barely kept his eyes open long enough to eat. I’d barely managed to choke down a few bites myself. The guilt has my stomach in a perpetual knot. I’ve dedicated so much of my life to hating this male, only to be wrong about all of it, and now I’m in too deep to even do anything about it. I can’t go home. There is no home to go back to. My family slaughtered an innocent mother and daughter. Rhys received their heads in boxes like some sort of twisted gift. They were supposed to be allies and my father betrayed them in the worst possible way. He paid for it with his life, with my mother’s life; it should have been the end of it. Tamlin was given a mercy and he should have taken it. He should have abandoned my father’s teachings and become a better lord, a better man. Instead, he perpetuated the cycle of abuse and suffering. He encouraged me to hate these people, to covet everything they had as if they were undeserving of it. All these years I loathed our miserable existence thinking the Mother hated us and was being unjust in giving these people all these things that we were never allowed. But we deserved it! We were the bad guys all along.

I roll over onto my side to look at him. He still sleeps in his armor, knife still strapped to his thigh, sword resting against the tent pole only a foot away. He’s ready to be up and fighting in a moment's notice. Our father’s were so similar, and yet, he turned out to be merciful and kind and somehow, so startlingly gentle that I often forget he’s still capable of intense prowess. He is the only male I’ve ever truly felt comfortable with, because that gentleness came as a response to the violence he’d seen, not because that violence was never there. He’d felt the cold sting of it, and chose to be something gentle instead of returning it.

And here I am, with all that righteous anger that had kept me warm on my coldest days, choosing to return all the violence that had been inflicted on me onto others. Just as Tamlin did. Just as my father did.

And looking at it I don’t want to be him. He ruined my mother! He took something good and kind and locked it away and used her for his own ends! I don’t even know if he ever really loved her. Why would you keep the things you love in a cage?

I sit up abruptly. Maybe he was as scared of being alone as I am.

I can’t sit in this tent anymore! I can’t-

Rhysand jolts awake as soon as I move, hand twitching for his knife, shadows swirling off his body in response to what his sleep muddled mind thinks is a threat. “What’s wrong?”

I put a hand on his chest, spinning onto my knees so I can kiss his forehead. “Nothing, I just need to relieve myself.”

He lets me push him down onto the mat, body relaxing and pliant beneath my touch. “You sure?”

“Positive.” If he tried to follow me out now I think I really might explode. My stomach feels like it's ripping itself apart. My bones ache, my skin feels like it's stretched too tight over them. There is too much nervous energy bound inside my body. I just need to get out and stretch my legs; get some fresh air and clear my head. I will be fine if I can clear my head.

“Take your knife,” he says, eyes already drifting shut again.

I strap it to my thigh as I slip from the tent, gulping down lungfuls of crisp, mountain air as I go. I just need to clear my head. Is finding a way to survive this fucked up world really me acting like my father? I’ve never killed innocent people. I’ve never withheld necessities or lorded my power over people. I’m just not being honest about my intentions. It’s shitty. I’m using a mating bond I’m still not wholly sure is real as a means to getting food and shelter and, hopefully, a decent helping of mind blowing sex.

Cauldron that sounds really, really fucked up.

But how am I supposed to tell him? Hey, I know that you really don’t like my family and they’ve done nothing but screw you over but I also accepted your offer to try and ruin your life and take all of your land and kinda only just changed my mind about it yesterday. And it would be really super cool if you just let that slide because I have nowhere else to go.

That would go over soooooo well. He’d be totally fine with it!

I ground my palms into my eyes as I walk behind a couple trees to at least make it look like I really did need to go pee. There are men on guard duty, no doubt someone is going to see me wandering around camp.

My brain feels like it’s being squeezed by my skull. There has to be a way to go about this that doesn’t get me tossed out into the coming snow, while also not lying so deeply about it. I do care about him. It was a lie at first but now…

I put my back against the tree and slide down until I’m sitting on the rocky ground, head still in my hands. I don’t know if he’s my mate. There’s something there, I feel it pulling at me, even now, but I can’t give it a name. And I want to be here. Not just because of the story he’d told yesterday. When Lucien tried to get me to leave, I really didn’t want to go back with him. But how am I supposed to live with the truth? How am I supposed to look at him and see that he wants this so much more than I do, despite everything?

Actually, why does he want this, despite everything? He’d asked me why I stayed. I never asked him why he brought me here. There’s certainly enough bad blood between our families to make even a mate hesitate to bring me in.

I lean back against the tree, the rough scrape of the bark against my aching skin a relief. My body feels so strange, being around Rhysand’s magic has made it feel like there’s something beneath my skin.

Tomorrow, in the morning, I will ask him why he still brought me back. Then I will decide what to do.

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He certainly doesn’t make asking him easy. Rhys wakes me up with his lips on my throat, along the fading marks he’d left a couple days before, trailing them down as his hands hike up my sweater. The heat of him against the early morning chill has my resolve slipping, all my plans slipping through my fingers as he runs his tongue over my peaked nipples.

I can’t think past the roaring in my ears; the ache in my body for more, more, more. There is nothing and no one but him as he trails lower, each kiss more forceful than the last as he heads for the waistband of my pants.

“Rhys,” I moan, voice still thick with sleep, even as my body arches under him. I want him everywhere. I need him everywhere. The stirring feeling beneath my skin is worse today, only quelled by the trail of his hands on my body. For once, my racing thoughts are quiet. If only we could stay like this.

“Hmmm,” he hums into my stomach, just beneath my navel. There’s a bit of stubble along his jaw, the scrape of it against my oversensitive skin makes my eyes roll back into my head. “Did you want something, mate?”

“You,” I groan, hand reaching out to tangle in his hair to try and move him where I need him.

He grins, I can feel the upturn of his lips against my stomach, but he refuses to budge. Just nips at the skin visible above my waistline. “You have me.”

Bastard! My whole body trembles beneath him. I can’t get a breath down fast enough. I need him everywhere all at once. “Need you inside me,” I bite out.

He simply hums again, hands tugging at my waistband with an inhumane slowness that makes me feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin. I use the hand not in his hair to grip the mat, trying to ground myself, trying to find some semblance of control again. I’m gripping so tight my bones ache, fingers feeling like they’re breaking. There’s a tearing sound, a pricking sensation in my palm and then a gush of something wet across my hand.

Even he looks up at that, and when I turn to look, I’m more than a little surprised to find that I’ve grown claws, and I’ve just tore them right through my hand!

“Shit!” He’s gone from between my legs in an instant, all the heat in my body leaving with him.

I can’t unfurl my hand. Can’t retract the claws, they’re stuck through my palm with my fist closed around it. I’ve only ever grown them in anger, how the hell had I done it now?

Rhysand comes back with a towel as I manage to sit up. “I thought you smelled different this morning,” he muses.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I hiss.

“Our magic can be protective. It can hide itself if it doesn’t feel safe. I don’t think you were born with too little, I think you were born with too much.” His fingers massage my wrist, trying to find the right pressure points to help me unclench my fist. “I think that it buried itself inside you to keep you safe. And I think, now that you’re here, it’s manifesting, and like the wards, it has its own scent.”

Fan-fucking-tastic!

“Well I’d like it to un-manifest,” I hiss. “I was doing just fine without it!” There’s blood dripping through the towel, if anything it feels like my claws are burrowing deeper into my palm. I can practically feel them trying to tear right through the back of my hand.

He can’t seem to find the right spot and trying to pry my fingers out of my palm is a no go. He frowns, lifting the towel for a better look. “I’m gonna try something.”

I’m prepared for a blow from his own magic, some form of glittering starlight or shadowy darkness, I am not prepared for him to kiss me again. The sound I make in surprise is somewhere between a growl and a gasp because what the hell is he doing? But even though my head is struggling to catch up, my body is not. On instinct, I lean back to allow him better access, his tongue slipping behind my teeth. The rolling feeling beneath my skin lessens, the tightness in my palm slowly releasing. I thread my functioning hand through his hair as my body gives what I can only describe as a sigh of relief. A moment later, the claws retract and I can finally unfurl my fist.

“Flair ups can be heavily tied to your emotions,” he says, lips barely off mine. “Probably wasn’t the best idea to tease you in the middle of one.”

It takes him all of thirty seconds to find some rags and tie up my hand, even though the blood flow is already lessening. All I can do is stare at it while he does it. This is certainly a new and unwelcome development to this whole mess.

“Is that going to keep happening?”

Azriel pops his head into our tent, unannounced as usual. “Are you two done in here or what? I, personally, cannot live with Cassian if he beats us around the mountain.”

“We’ll be right there,” Rhysand huffs.

“I’m seeing a trend with him,” I mutter.

He smirks, “It’s one of Azriel’s many charms.”

He helps me to my feet, holding onto me like he thinks something else might just burst out of my skin. Truth be told, I can still feel something shifting around, a prowling animal begging to be released from its cage. I’d thought it was my unease this whole time, but maybe it’s worse than that.

“We don’t know how deep your power well is,” Rhysand says. “And if it’s never fully manifested…” He blows out a breath. “When mine first started manifesting, I shredded a whole section of camp with starlight. There was a whole twenty-four hour period where my shadows blocked out the sun. And you’re my equal so, yes I think that will keep happening.”

Cauldron boil me!

“As long as you remain calm, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“I should think you would know better than to tell a female to be calm, Rhysand.”

He grins, “Well you can also spend the day making out with me, since that seems to be such a lovely little distraction with you.”

I go to hiss an insult at him but the only thing that comes out is an actual, animal-like growl. I clamp a hand over my mouth in embarrassment while he bursts out laughing.

“This is going to be fun!” He declares.

I am not at all inclined to agree.

----

I only manage to ride with him for an hour or two before the pull of his magic makes my skin start to itch. He was right about magic having a scent. Half way through the hour I suddenly become very aware of the jasmine scent of him. It’s everywhere. In every breath. Every brush of his chest against my back, every movement of his hands along the reins. My body is hyper aware of every place we do and don’t touch.

“Getting all worked up again, aren’t we?” He purrs in my ear.

My jaw feels like it’s snapping as a set of fangs tear through my gums, spurting blood into my mouth. Somehow his magic is the catalyst for my transformation and the balm all in one. I can’t be near him and I can’t be away from him, as I soon learn. When I jump off the horse and declare I’m going to walk beside him, my claws return, in both hands this time. At least they shoot out my nail beds and not my knuckles like Tamlin’s.

The thought of him makes another growl rumble through my chest and something that feels suspiciously like fur sprouts from the back of my neck.

“Wouldn’t recommend,” Rhysand warns.

The itchiness of my skin is even worse on the ground. I feel the wards tugging at me like I’ve been tied to the glittering magic that builds them with a string. The jasmine and overripe fruit scent of them is enough to make my nose crinkle. Apparently the transformation heightens my senses as well.

“I’m gonna tear off my skin,” I snarl, fidgeting with my collar. Why is it so itchy? Is it supposed to be like this?

He slows his mount to keep pace with me and I do not miss the grumbled complaints of the males behind us. My ears twitch every time one of them speaks, the sound sometimes like a shout and others like a far off echo.

“Breathe,” he says gently. “The more worked up you get, the worse it will be until we can find a way to safely expel it.”

I draw a shaky breath, then another.

“Good girl.”

A shiver works its way up my spine at that.

“Now come here,” he leans so far out of the saddle he’s only holding on with his thighs, and my first thought is how we can get this little caravan to pause so I can be the one beneath him. He gets an arm around my waist and hauls me back up onto the horse and damn if that’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever seen a male do!

“Let’s get these wards up-” I’m hyper-aware how every word rumbles through his chest, the way his body shifts on the horse. “-And we’ll find a place to camp soon enough, then you and I can work on this.”

“Make it stop,” I gently beg. “I don’t want it!” The itch beneath my skin is becoming unbearable! My claws scratch up my arms, tearing up my sweater.

His free hand covers mine, intertwining our fingers, even as the horse begins to move. “Focus on me.”

I focus my attention on the way his body molds against mine. The way the leather of his glove slides over the back of my hand. I let my eyes drift shut, focusing on the brush of his chest against mine, the swaying motion of his hips as the horse moves over the rocky terrain. It’s not enough. Not like the feel of his lips on mine had been this morning. As if he knows it, he drops his head against my shoulder, nose brushing over the exposed skin of my throat.

“I’m right here,” he continues. “Focus on me, just like you did this morning.”

This morning there had been a lot less clothes between us.

“Breathe for me.”

It is a physical effort to draw a deep enough breath in; another to pull my claws away from my itching skin. He settles our joined hands against my stomach.

“Again.”

I manage to do what I am told, just barely.

“Good. Just like that.” His voice makes a shiver run down my spine as my mind spins with all the other things I want him to talk me through. I think I could do just about anything if he explained it to me in that rich, husky voice he was using in my ear. “Part of learning to control it is finding your center. Find a safe mental space to retreat to.”

“Like what?” There are few places in the world I have ever felt safe. Thinking about how I used to sit in the rocking chair with my mother and listen to her stories only fills me with pain now. Or perhaps a couple weeks ago I might have thought about all those summers I spent at the creek with Lucien, but now it only makes the thing beneath my skin rumble and shake like there’s some sort of animal that lives caged beneath my ribs and is trying desperately to break free. What makes me feel safe?

“A good memory, a happy time,” he lists.

I have nothing. My eyes start to water and my throat starts to close, talons growing longer and sharper at my fingertips. I feel the give of my leather chest-piece beneath them. Everything good in my life has been a lie! Everyone that was supposed to protect me only ever hurt me in the end. None of it was ever real.

And this, this thing that could be something, that could be real, I had ruined it. I have to lie to keep it. I have to pretend that I had every right to hurt him, when it was really the other way around. The only person who had ever told me the truth, who could see me for what I was, and I had ruined any chance of it being real before it had even had the chance to start.

A sob slips out of me and with it, the tree we pass erupts in a flurry of leaves and twisting, screaming bark that makes the horse rear. The earth rumbles, random cracks splitting in the rock face, gnarled vines crawling out of them like tentacled monsters. The itching in my skin won’t stop! The more I try to trap it the more the world around us screams in protest.

“Breathe, Y/N,” Rhysand orders in my ear. “You have to breathe.”

“I can’t!” I choke out.

He slides his hand out of mine and brings it up against the side of my temple. It feels like a shadow unfurling from his fingertips, but the brush of it is not against my face, but inside my skull. Darkness clouds my vision from the inside out. It feels as if my brain is being emptied, piece by piece with shadows until there is nothing inside my mind but him.

“Breathe,” he commands, the voice of a Warlord. “Now.”

I choke on each breath.

“You are safe, Y/N,” he says, gentler. There is nothing in the world but the two of us in this dark little bubble. Nothing but the press of night chilled jasmine and calming, all consuming night. From somewhere far off, I hear music on the wind, the swell of stringed instruments pulling my attention away from the itch running beneath my skin.

“Why is this happening?” My body feels so impossibly small, yet like it’s being stretched beyond its capacity, my bones trying to tear through the confines of my skin all the same.

“Our powers can very easily get tangled with our emotions,” he explains, the hand on my temple drawing shapes into my skin. Somehow, after looking at the stitches in the tent walls, I know he’s spelling something out in Illyrian, but I’ll never know what. “The last twenty-four hours have been a lot for you, I’m sure.”

There is no room to think about it in this headspace, no twisted memories to plague me, only the music and the faint twinkle of stars for company. I let myself fall into it, let it swallow me and fill me until I feel disconnected from the pulling of my skin.

“I don’t want this power,” I whisper into the darkness.

The darkness caresses me, wraps itself around me as surely as his arm around my waist. “I know, but we don’t get a say in what we’re given, only what we do with it.”

When have I ever truly had a say in anything?

“What if I hurt somebody?” What if I am just as bad as my father in both intentions and power? If I am capable of plotting to ruin someone’s life based on a lie, how much more capable am I of turning these claws on someone else? Maybe power is passed from my mother, but that will never change the fact that I now carry the same weapons that were used to scar me, and Rhys, and probably his mother and sister.

“You won’t,” he assures. “I’ll be right here to teach you. You can control it.”

He has far more faith in me than he should.

----

Once we’ve stopped for the night and camp is set up, Rhysand takes me by the hand and leads me out into the empty, grassy plains beneath the mountain. The knee-high yellow blades are brittle this time of year, cracking under our boots as we walk until only the smoke from the campfires pinpoints where we left the others. We’re far enough away that I won’t hurt anyone if I lose control again.

Shame flushes my cheeks. I’ve always prided myself on being the calm one of the family; always able to keep my emotions shoved deep down beneath the surface to keep them from getting the better of me. I thought I was good at it. I was wrong. It’s only been the constant brush of Rhysand’s shadows against my mind all afternoon that have kept me from tearing everything I touch to shreds. Even now, my hands ache from often my new claws have sprung and retracted from my fingertips.

I must feel about as awful as Rhysand looks. The circles under his eyes have not lessened in the slightest, and every once in a while I’ll see him start to sway, like it’s an effort to stay on his feet. The scent of his magic has lessened, the night blooming jasmine fading behind the citrus and salty scent of him. He shouldn’t be out here with me, he should be resting, recharging his own magic so he can be prepared for more warding tomorrow. According to Azriel and the scouts’ reports, we should meet up with Cassian and Mor’s group by this time tomorrow and Rhysand will need all his energy to ensure both ends of the wards are fully meshed together.

We stop once we’re cushioned between two large hills, nothing but the chirp of crickets and the stars to keep us company. The Mountain looms dark and shadowy beneath the small sliver of the moon.

“This looks like a good place,” he says as he finally releases my hand.

I keep my lower lip between my teeth, hands shaking at my sides. I don’t want to do this! Entertaining the idea that I have powers to train and use is foolish. I don’t need to learn to use them; I need to learn to shove them back down into the darkest parts of me where they can’t hurt anybody.

“Let’s start with something simple,” he suggests. “Tell me where you feel your power the most.”

My hand comes up to poke between my rib cage, where the stirring and itchy feeling is the most concentrated. “Feels like something is trying to break out of my skin,” I say softly.

“The claws and the fangs could be a beast form,” he muses. “Or it could just be some shape-shifting powers you inherited from your father?”

The mention of that bastard makes the stirring in my chest feel like a tidal wave, raw energy crackling so hard and fast through my veins that I feel it crest out my fingertips. The grass around me withers and dies, the ground beneath it crackling and rumbling with what feels like the early stages of an earthquake. I can’t have powers like my fathers!

There is no shortage of pity in those violet eyes and I press my palms into my eyes with a groan. I can’t do this! It needs to stop! I need to bury it now before it runs away with me; while I still have some control over it. Because if it goes any further than this…

Maybe Tamlin was right to send me away. Maybe he did know about my powers and that was why he got rid of me. I couldn’t hurt anybody if I was alone in the woods.

Rhysands shadows drift along the floor until they can slither up my calves, rubbing affectionately against me in a way that reminds me of a cat. “It’s ok,” he soothes.

Tears stream down my cheeks. “Make it stop!” I beg. “Show me how to bury it again.”

His shadows trail higher, winding over my hips and waist, even as he steps closer, leaving barely a breath between us. “Y/N…” he shakes his head, trying to find the right words and I feel a strange pang beneath the movement in my chest.

“Please,” I whimper. “I’ll do anything! Just make it stop.”

He cups my cheek and I give myself the briefest moment to fall into the warmth of his touch. “I know it’s scary, and that it hurts, but this is good. It has to be released. You will die if you don’t.”

Then let me. The words freeze on my tongue when a tendril of his power flicks over his shoulder, down his wrist, to brush against my cheek, but that doesn’t stop the spiraling of my thoughts. Let me be free of this pain. Let me go out before I become a monster like my father. Let that awful bastard be right; let me be useless and worthless and incapable of doing anything he could be proud of.

As if spurred on by my thoughts, the grass around me continues to wither, until there’s a whole circle of dead earth surrounding me. The harder I try to draw it in, the wider the circle becomes. Power sizzle through my nerve endings, a fire that digs itself into my veins and when I curl my hands into fists to try and stop it, I pull weeds through the cracks in the earth, the gnarled, leafy branches reaching up like skeletal hands that wrap around my, and Rhysand’s ankles.

“Focus on that spot,” his free hand taps gently against my ribs. “Focus until it feels like you’re holding it.”

I try to imagine the power like a bowl filled with sloshing, dark liquid. I imagine myself reaching for the lip of the bowl, the cracked edges and rough wood a mirror to the one that used to sit on our kitchen table, full of apples I’d sneak when no one was looking. If I make it familiar, it feels easier to focus on. I imagine every crack in the bowl, every worn edge, focusing until I get a mental hold around the edges. Now all I need to do is tip the bowl over. If I spill out its contents, there will be nothing left inside me to unleash… right?

“Once you can hold it, focus on containing it. Imagine it like a bottle, get all that energy into the bottle, and put a lid on the top,” Rhys says like he can hear my plans.

The liquid inside the bowl bubbles and hisses as my conflicted feelings run circles through my head. He hasn’t been wrong this far, I should do as he says, but I can’t help but feel like indulging this is a mistake. I can hear my father’s voice inside my head, telling me that this is not how females are supposed to behave.

I can feel the weeds I’d summoned dying around me. Can feel every blade of grass as if it was somehow attached to my skin. The longer I hold that imaginary bowl, the more aware of this power I become, but it doesn’t feel like control. It just feels like more things pulling at me, trying to move me in directions I’ve never decided I want to go in.

The ground rumbles beneath my boots again as my mental grip slips, and when I open my eyes the weeds, dead as they are now, have slithered all the way up my chest, reaching for my throat like some decrypt hand.

The air leaves my lungs in a rush and with it, the dead vegetation crumbles and turns to dust on the wind.

Rhysand should be looking at me like I’m a monster. He should be stepping away, shadows swirling, that giant sword in hand. We are supposed to be enemies and he should be looking at me like I am one. But he’s not. He reaches out and brushes some of the ruined plant off my shoulder instead.

“It’s ok,” he assures. “No one gets it on their first try. Not even me.”

That compassion and understanding makes my chest ache worse than any restless power ever has. I don’t deserve it. I wish he would treat me like the horrible creature I am. He would be better off if he tossed me out into the woods like Tam.

He stiffens and I can’t help but wonder if I accidentally said that out loud because his eyes darken as he closes the gap between us and takes my face in his hands. “Maybe I’m taking the wrong approach.” His voice is clipped, husky.

Good, maybe he can finally see me for what I really am.

I am wholly unprepared for him to crash his lips against mine. My brain short circuits, the agitation I feel morphing into that desperate, needy thing I had felt this morning. Just as I tilt my head back, lips parting to let him in, he pulls back.

“Let’s play a game.”

The power in my chest feels like it’s going to rip out of my skin again.

“Match what I do and you’ll get a reward,” he explains. “If you can’t…” He takes a step back and it is an effort not to chase after him, but the message is clear enough: Matching his efforts means his hands, his lips, his body is on me again, fail to do so, and he puts space between us. It shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t make me want to try, but I do. Gods I do!

“Ok,” my voice shakes a little. In the back of my mind I still think it’s a bad idea. Maybe I will regret it in the end, but this thing between us is the only thing that makes sense. There is nothing between us when his lips are on mine. I need that distraction tonight.

He holds out a hand and a ball of shadows emerge, the tendrils of darkness crawling out from beneath his skin to form the swirling shape. “Find that spot in your chest and push it into your hand. It’s a part of you, it answers to you. Make it answer to you.”

I hold out my hand, matching his position and then close my eyes, reaching for that bowl of darkness again. Hesitantly, I tip it sideways, sloshing some of the dark liquid over the edge and imagine pulling it through my limbs. It makes my muscles spasm, my claws shooting out of my nail beds in defense.

“Breathe through it, you’ll pass out if you hold your breath.”

Selfishly, I want to impress him. Want to show him I can. I want the reward of his lips on mine again. Want to not have to think about whether I should be doing this or that, the only thought in my head him and how good he feels. I do as he says, drawing in a breath as I keep pushing that bit of darkness in the direction I want it. It makes my head hurt, trying to focus so intently, but I’m nothing if not persistent.

I feel the rumble of movement beneath my palm, and just when I’m starting to think that maybe I’m more capable than I thought, the tiniest, most wilted looking dandelion grows from my palm. And then immediately turns to ash. It’s the saddest excuse for power I’ve ever seen and I growl out a complaint like a literal beast as even the thing in my chest shows its disappointment.

Rhysand snorts out a laugh too, which makes it worse.

So much for powerful.

He clears his throat as he steps back into my space. “It was a good attempt.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I hiss. “That was embarrassing.”

He wraps his hand around my wrist and places his lips against my palm anyway, never mind that my claws are still out and drifting over his temple as he kisses right where my powers flared. “You still tried.”

I shiver at the contact of his plush lips against my skin, his breath warm against my palm. My senses are still incredibly heightened and even that bit of contact makes my skin buzz with excitement.

He quirks a dark brow as he looks at me from where my hand is still pressed against his lips. “Try again for me?”

I nod, not trusting my voice when he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me. His pupils are blown wide, barely a ring of violet left to see. He keeps his lower lip between his perfect teeth as he watches me with an intensity that makes my thighs clench.

Just like before, I imagine myself holding that bowl, this time, I draw a breath and tip it over, letting more of that strange darkness spill into the abyss that is my soul. It is strange to see it like this, to have some parts of it so clear and yet the rest of it is shrouded in fathomless depths. There might be anything living within the confines of my skin. I’d never bothered to look until now.

I push it towards my fingertips, just as before. The same spasm in my muscles returns, a knot forming in my bicep that I do my best to ignore as I keep pushing my power towards my hand. I remind myself to breathe when it flares in my wrist, making my claws retract and pop back out.

“Just like that,” Rhysand coaxes.

Cauldron his voice makes my insides feel like jelly.

Crawling vines emerge one by one from beneath my palms, twining around my fingertips like tiny snakes. In the center sprouts another dandelion, a little taller than the last. I manage to hold it for all of five seconds before the knot in my bicep and wrist become too much and the vines and flower die together. My bones ache. How does he do this so easily?

“Better,” Rhysand praises as he places the next kiss on the inside of my wrist, his fingers massaging the knot forming there.

“Is it supposed to hurt?” I grumble.

“It’s a process,” he murmurs into my skin, lips trailing higher, causing a shiver to run down my spine. “Think of it like building a muscle. The first couple days of using that muscle will hurt. You’ll be sore. But the more you build it, the stronger it becomes, and the less it hurts. Eventually, you’ll be able to perform bigger and bigger feats with less and less discomfort.”

That sounds exhausting!

I’m going to have to do this for the rest of my life? The thought sours my mood, once again turning my thoughts away from this lovely little distraction he’s been offering and back into the darkness that’s been threatening to overtake me all afternoon.

I swear he can hear the thoughts spinning through my head as he suddenly nips at the tender flesh of the inside of my wrist. “You think you can give me one more?”

I have a headache just thinking about doing it again, but he keeps looking at me through those long lashes, the intensity in his gaze making all rational thought fly out the window.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promises, lips trailing higher. He’s so warm and intoxicating, I think he might be capable of making me do anything, as long as his lips remain on my skin.

I focus on that spot, paying extra attention to breathe as I reach for that imaginary bowl a third time. Maybe if I let myself relax, lean a little heavier into the warmth of his touch, and stop trying so hard to hold on so tight, it won't hurt so bad. It has been like fighting a tide all this time; if I relax, go with the wave, will that make it easier?

I imagine that darkness spilling from the bowl like water instead, letting it flow like a river. The path from my chest to my fingertips is kind of like a stream, right? The water bubbling and rushing through me. There must be something to that thought process, because, when I open my eyes, there are more vines twining around my fingers and wrist, but this time, tiny yellow and pink flowers bloom from them. There is nothing dead or angry crawling out from beneath my skin, but something beautiful and alive. My claws retract as the vines spin around my fingers.

I can’t help but grin as I look to Rhys for his approval. “I did it!”

He grins right back, the sight so dazzling I think I might just stand here for hours summoning flower after flower to see it again. “That’s my girl!”

Instinctively, spurred by the excitement rushing through my veins, I stretch up on my toes and place a quick kiss on his lips. “You’re a good teacher,” and I mean it. Whatever this is between us, I am grateful for him, even if this is all we have. “Thank you.”

He slides a hand in my hair and kisses me back. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

I don’t know what it is I feel about it. It still feels wrong, or maybe it just feels different. Everything feels different these days, I’d rather not think too long about it. “Feels like I can breathe a little easier.”

“Good.” He kisses me again. “We’ll practice some more tomorrow.”

I slide my hand into the silky strands of his hair, nails scraping lightly over his scalp as he rests his forehead on mine. I won’t let myself think about tomorrow, or about these new powers. There can only be this moment.

“Just promise me,” he continues, “that you’ll keep trying?”

“I might need some convincing,” I return, clinging to this distraction with every last bit of willpower I possess.

He grins at the challenge. This is the best I can give him today; the closest to the truth I can admit without laying everything bare.

“I can be very persuasive,” he purrs and the next thing I know I am on my back in what’s left of the grass, the solid weight of him on top of me. “Maybe we should work on some self-defense while we’re at it. That was alarmingly easy.”

“The words every girl wants to hear when she’s beneath a man,” I retort.

“I just want you to be safe, is all,” he says as he kisses the tip of my nose.

I reach up a hand and brush some of the hair that’s falling over his forehead into his eyes out of the way. He is breathtakingly beautiful under the moonlight. I wish I could paint or sketch, immortalize every glorious sharp edge of him in ink and paper. “I’m with you, how can I not be safe?”

Cauldron boil me, I mean that too.

It’s not until later that night, long after I’d fallen apart on his tongue in that field and then tumbled back into camp, nearly asleep on my feet to nestle down against his warm body that I remembered I’d meant to ask him this morning why he’d still let me in after everything between us. By now I’m too exhausted to care; maybe I’ll find the courage to ask in the morning.

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

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thefandomenchantress · 3 days

Text

(Sorry for not just answering this in the comments, I had a feeling I was gonna go over the word limit (I was correct haha) and figured maybe I should just make a post about it).

Spoilers for Chapter Two Episode 13!

I'll be honest...I am very scared for Ace right now. A lot of his trial behavior is kinda suspicious if you squint, but then again, he's Ace, so he's always going to be hastily throwing around suspicion and be generally incompetent when it comes to solving the murder. And after watching all of chapter two...I just can't accept that it's him.

Now, it's fair to say that's just favoritism on my part. After all, I'm willingly to make a lot of stretches to keep on believing in my Eden's The Culprit agenda. And...Yeah, true, you are kinda right. Even if I was in a scenario where I couldn't find a single objective reason for him not to be the culprit, I still wouldn't be able to accept it was him until he was executed.

But I can't help but think I do have at least a little evidence to prove Ace isn't the culprit.

I actually made a post a while back about the Ace culprit theory, and how I don't think it works. And I'm going to reiterate a point I made there, since I'm not sure if I conveyed what I meant all that clearly.

This is about the tape.

Yes, yes, I know. Everything's about the tape these days, but I still think it's important!! After all, the grippy tape was used in the murder mechanism, and disappeared while only Ace, Eden, and Teruko were in the room. Meaning one of them has to be the one connected to the murder, (meaning they are at the very least an accomplice).

Teruko and Eden both technically could've taken it, Eden much more so than Teruko, but this isn't about them, so I'll skip that. I'm sure you've heard stuff about that before somewhere, anyhow.

Let's get to the main point:

Could Ace have taken the tape?

Okay, okay, fine, real answer time. In my opinion? It doesn't make much sense to me. After all, if Ace took the tape, we have two options:

Ace was planning to murder someone and already had a plan in mind when he took the tape, knowing he'd need it for a mechanism.

Ace didn't have a plan in mind and wanted to murder Nico when he took the tape.

Now, let's take those one at a time so I can tell you why I don't buy them.

Let's start with option one.

Ace knew he was going to murder someone with the tape down the line and took it.

Now, let's put this into perspective for a moment. Ace is actively being murdered. Even if we assume that Nico is not the true person behind Ace's almost-death, we can assume that someone was cutting Ace's neck open before this. And if Ace was conscious, he wouldn't wait for them or anyone else who can take advantage of his weakened state to come back. So Ace must be unconscious at least until Teruko and Eden make Nico run away.

That means the only time Ace can be having even sort of coherent thoughts is in the minute or so Teruko is investigating his body. He is actively bleeding out, someone just tried to murder him, and everything has gone to shit. On top of it all, he's a character who's usually rather impulsive.

And in order for him to have known he'd need the tape for his new murder plan, he'd need to have thought of a whole murder mechanism scheme while under those conditions. Seems a little iffy, but let's assume, for the sake of this post, he's secretly a murder-plan-making genius! So of course he easily thought of that entire extremely complex murder plan that far in advance!

That means Ace has a plan when he manages to get the strength to stand up. He knows he needs the tape, so he grabs it, while knocking Eden over and shouting in hopes it will distract them enough to not notice he took it (Let's also ignore that Teruko is watching him this whole time and probably would've noticed him taking it). He then pretends he's going to go kill Nico immediately, while secretly plotting to kill them or someone else in the future.

But if Ace isn't planning to murder Nico immediately like he says, then why is he so insistent on it? Non-culprit!Ace readings make this easily understandable; Ace's emotions are running high from the murder attempt and he's running off to find Nico because he's angry and thinks they tried to kill him. However, if Ace doesn't actually want to kill Nico, why does he bother putting on such a big act pretending he does?

If this is an act, color me impressed. Ace has, in the past, shown himself to be a pretty terrible liar who is also not very good at keeping secrets. So him being able to pull this off while bleeding out...Yeah, he definitely deserves an Oscar, haha. Because he really sells it. He's banging on Nico's door, yelling in a very aggressive and convincing manner, and tells Levi he is going to murder Nico almost nonchalantly. If this scene was later revealed to all be an elaborate 4D-chess move by Ace, I would be super surprised.

And none of it is even that necessary if it is an act. Ace could've stomped out of the room without telling them he was going to kill Nico if he wanted to, it's not like it was necessary for his plan. After all, if he was planning a murder, why would he purposely prove that he would be willingly to commit one? It's way better to play into his scaredy-cat tendencies here, instead, if he's trying not to gain suspicion. Like, imagine:

Eden: O-oh my god! Ace, are you alright?!? Y-you're bleeding a lot, let's go to the infirma--

Ace: Get the fuck away from me! I'm not trusting any of you fuckers to get anywhere near me! I was totally right to not trust any of you in the first place, you're all gonna try some shit like this eventually! You probably think that now's the perfect time to strangle me while pretending to help, huh?! Well, too bad! I can do it myself.

(Cue Ace getting the fuck out of there before they can realize he took the tape).

I mean, why would he possibly think that pretending he's going to murder Nico while secretly planning another murder is a good idea?! Even if people don't connect the tape to him, they're going to think that he's completely capable of an act like that if he's desperate enough. If he hadn't done this, his classmates might've kept on thinking he was too much of a scaredy-cat to seriously consider hurting anyone, which would help his chances of winning the trial.

You could say he did it to disguise the fact that he had a plan to murder someone later. No one would suspect that he was planning to murder someone later if he pretended to try to murder someone now. But no one was accusing him of plotting anything in the first place? So I really don't see how it's necessary. Better to play it safe than to risk actually running into Nico when he doesn't actually plan to harm them. His little charade can only go so far. The only way this even sort of benefits him is if in the trial, people say maybe he was plotting something, and he can refute with his reckless behavior here. But, uh...Would it really be realistic to say Ace, of all people, thought that far ahead and meticulously planned out every detail in the mere moments he woke up from the turpentine? I don't know, seems like a little bit of a stretch to me.

Let's remind ourselves that, in this scenario, Ace is most likely scared for his life. He is scared someone else is going to murder him now that Nico tried, and that is why he is planning a murder now. In that case, I think the most important thing is that Ace's primary emotion is that moment is fear. Which he doesn't have a very good track record of hiding. When Ace is scared, you will know. So if Ace was scared and planning a murder in result during that moment, I don't think he'd have masked it as well as he did. Ace doesn't seem scared, just angry. Because he hates that, in his eyes, Nico was able to make him vulnerable like this.

I just...Don't think the dialog of Ace in the hallway scene after his almost-death would work as well if he was secretly not trying to murder Nico and only refusing help from the others because he was planning a different murder, and not because of his own character flaws. None of his lines seem disingenuous in the slightest to me. Which is weird, considering all the other times Ace has lied, it's pretty easy to tell.

In short, I simply don't understand why Ace would do the things he did if he was just secretly planning to murder someone. To me, his behavior makes much more sense if he's actually blinded by rage instead of secretly planning something super smart and complex.

...Alright, let's move on to scenario two.

Ace was actually planning to murder Nico when he took the tape, but plans change, and he uses the tape for murdering Arei instead.

Unsurprisingly, I don't buy this either.

If Ace really did plan to murder Nico in this moment and was admitting it full-heartedly, with no qualms about getting caught, why would he hide that he took the tape? He tells Levi he's going to murder Nico upfront, so obviously he doesn't care that they know what he's doing.

In that case, he wouldn't have stealthily picked up the tape while Teruko wasn't looking and put it in his pocket immediately (Both of Ace's hands are seen in his sprites, so it's not like he was just holding it in his hand, if he did take the tape he took it as quickly and unnoticeably as possible, hid it somewhere on his person, then didn't mention it).

If he's planning to murder Nico and hasn't thought about what happens afterwards, or knows he will be executed and still doesn't care, then it's not like he has anything he's going to do with the tape after he murders Nico. Meaning the only reason he would take it, is if it had something to do with murdering Nico.

And in that case, Ace doesn't care about how much the others know when it comes to how he does the murder. So he wouldn't be shy about admitting he was going to use the tape to uh...Idk, strangle Nico? Or restrain them? I don't even really know how he would use only grippy tape to murder them anyways. It's not like he'd use it to put over their mouth to keep them quiet, he's shouting threats to them in the middle of the hallway for everyone to hear. He could not give less of a fuck about who knows Nico is in danger.

Ace has literally no reason to be secretive about taking the tape in this scenario. The only way it would work is if Teruko and Eden just so happened to not notice even though Ace wasn't bothering to be subtle, which is...Kinda weird, since Teruko's usually pretty damn observant.

Plus, Ace has a lot of blood on his hands during the gym waking-up scene, but maybe he managed to get the tape in his pocket before any blood could get on it? Since there wasn't as much on his hands before he woke up? Idk, possibly still notable.

To summarize this whole section a bit, if Ace was planning to murder Nico when he took the tape, he'd have little reason to take it and no reason to take it sneakily. If he was secretly planning another murder, it's hard to justify why he pretends he wants to murder Nico in the first place, or how he even thought up his murder plan so quickly and under such intense circumstances. And since Teruko was presumably looking at Ace the whole time, Ace would have a hard time even picking up the tape in the first place without Teruko noticing.

(I've also seen people say that if Teruko and Ace can't 100% confirm each other's witness testimony about the other not taking it while Eden was on the ground, you can't really prove who took it in the trial).

...So that's it with the tape, I think. All in all, I don't think Ace taking it makes much sense, or at least not as much sense as Eden does.

That's my main reason for being doubtful of Ace being the culprit, but I guess there's maybe some other things I could mention...

Ace is supposed to be the Mondo of the Chihiro-Mondo = Nico-Ace murder situation.

This can be seen by how the almost-murder takes place in the gym, and how Ace is the one who wants to be strong despite feeling deep down that he is weak. He's also the one who is afraid of getting hit by cars, and the one who's friend mysteriously died...

Yeah, I'm willing to bet Ace's friend being dead and Ace weirdly mentioning being afraid of cars hitting him in chapter 1 probably means his friend met a similar fate to Mondo's brother. Except without all the biker gang stuff, haha.

Which, uh, isn't good if we're trying to make Ace not the culprit, since that secret was one of the major reasons Mondo killed and all that. And I was worried about that...Until Ace just sorta brought Taylor up unprompted in the middle of trial. Like, if that was a big, personal, secret reason for why he murdered Arei, not sure why he would just randomly bring it up now when the DRDTdev could just--Have him talk about it later, when he's the culprit. And if we assume Ace thought that Taylor dying was his secret and killed so that secret wouldn't get out, then that wouldn't make sense, since Ace brings it up in conversation without hesitating. Even Ace wouldn't kill for a secret and then blab about it only a day later. So I doubt Taylor's death is going to play any sort of role in Ace's motive to murder.

(Unlike Eden, who's secret does include someone she was close to and probably regrets not being honest with when it came to her feelings and--okay okay fine I'll shut up now sorry--).

Plus, Ace having Mondo parallels doesn't mean he has to be the culprit. Nico wasn't the victim just because they had Chihiro parallels, so the same can be true for Ace. It does make him a little more suspicious, though, sadly.

Also...

I wonder how this would pay off if Ace died? I immediately assumed that oh, Levi will die, and Ace will realize that this statement was not true. But it could go in way more directions than that.

This line has to be pretty damn important if it got the bold yellow letter treatment. That statement is going to affect Ace or Levi (or both) in a very major way.

If Ace dies, then...I guess I'm not sure if that statement would affect Levi as much without Ace being there. Levi has already said that he would not care if Ace died. It would simply be as if he never knew him, like he was a stranger. And I guess, in my mind, it makes a lot more sense if Ace is a living embodiment of what he said to Levi than him just being gone.

I mean, imagine if Levi threatened Ace and then Ace was the culprit in chapter 1. Levi would not care nearly as much about what he said, because everyone thinks Ace did a bad thing by framing Teruko and not admitting to the class that he murdered Xander, even if it was with good intentions.

Now imagine that Ace is the culprit of chapter two. He murdered Arei with not-good intentions, framed Eden, and never admitted he did it until the bitter end. No one liked Ace before, and they certainly don't like him now. He took advantage of Arei's trust in Eden and for that no one will forgive him. Ace was not a good person, and most of Levi's classmates will reinforce this. So if Ace wanted Levi to die, it doesn't matter, right? Levi tried his best to help him, and he failed, but he tried his best, like Eden said.

What I'm trying to say is that if Ace dies here, I'm not sure how one would make it so that this line really resonates with Levi enough to make a significant enough impact on him that it's highlighted. If Ace is gone and made out to be a no-good murderer by the killing game system they're trapped in, and no one thought Ace was a good person as is, Levi wouldn't put stock in Ace's opinion nearly as much as he would, say, Eden's. Ace was a bully and a murderer, so his opinion doesn't matter, right? I doubt anyone else in the killing game will disagree, so I'm guessing none of them will be ecstatic to defend Ace's honor if Levi asks anyone about it in chapter three.

Long story short, this line makes a lot more sense to me if both Levi and Ace survive trial two (Or I guess if Levi gets executed because of that 'all murderers must pay for their crimes' rule but still).

Other than that, a few other points that make Ace being the culprit less likely are that we have no evidence of Ace knowing about where to find Hu and Teruko's old clothes and that sort of thing. Then there's the spelling mistake I don't think Ace would make given how he acts in the investigation and trial, as I said in another post (Would they really make a point to have Ace of all people correct Teruko's language twice only to have a sticking point be that a word was misspelled in a letter he wrote?).

Plus there's the fact that, allegedly, the culprit made the time ambiguous so that no one would know they did the murder at AM not PM, and Ace didn't have an alibi for either time slot. It'd be weird to do that and then not get yourself an alibi for the fake PM murder time. If the culprit didn't do that on purpose, then I guess they just got really, really lucky when no one found the small piece saying pm or am. Like, that's a smaller piece, so it's not surprising no one found it, but it being such a small piece of the note makes it look like it was ripped out purposefully.

Honestly, the only thing I'd sort of like about Ace culprit theory is that it would confirm Ace writes all fancy and nice, haha. Which would be a really funny subversion of expectations, but not funny enough for me to not be sad he's the culprit and is going to die.

Another thing I've seen floating around is that if the culprit really did copy/reuse the Nico-Ace murder contraption, they would need to know how it works. And if Ace was in the gym that night, that would mean he knows how it works and would be able to replicate it!

But this entire time, we've gone under the assumption that Nico (or whoever almost-murdered Ace) knocked Ace out with the turpentine, and that's why they stole it. Ace is pretty strong physically, so someone needing to knock him out to overpower him isn't too unbelievable. And in that case, Ace wouldn't have gotten much of a chance to look at the crime scene, since he was unconscious for the whole murder attempt. The only time we saw him awake was in the time he woke up bleeding out. And seeing as Ace isn't exactly the brightest, I doubt he could've just looked around while actively dying and immediately have known exactly what was up and how he almost got murdered. And on top of all that, if he was secretly planning a murder, he'd have been focusing on his whole pretending-to-want-to-kill-Nico thing, too, further dividing his attention. Whoever set up the mechanism or saw it for a longer period of time without bleeding out, probably would've had a better shot at knowing how the mechanism worked.

Oh, and before I go: I've mentioned this before, but "All That Glitters" and "A Good Person" aren't really themes that I think would suit Ace as a culprit. After all, they mean 'not as good as it seems' and 'being a good person'. Unlike some other characters, Ace hasn't had any involvement in the Good Person dilemma except telling Levi he's not one. And I don't think anyone thought Ace was 'good' in the first place, let alone not as good as he seems.

I could probably go more in-depth...But I'm tired so short, straightforward theme explanation it is, haha.

I...Think that's all? Honestly, I might be able to think of more reasons in the future...But for now, I think I'm done. I refuse to accept the culprit is Ace, so I'm just trying to point out any evidence I can that it's not him. My heart wouldn't be able to take it...

Still, I don't judge anyone who does buy the ace culprit theory, I just don't buy it personally. So there's the answer you were probably looking for, in way less words, haha.

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #ace markey #theory #answering inbox message thingys #kinda

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jisatsuwaifu · 2 days

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Life is incredibly frustrating, stressful, and exhausting. Everyday I think “it’s okay, it’ll get better, try again tomorrow” but it just keeps proving me wrong. When I think things are getting better and I can finally relax, something else comes along and puts me right back into panic mode. It’s always something, there’s never a break. I never feel safe. All I do is complain about how sad or frustrated I am and I’m sure everyone around me is sick of hearing it. Which is fine, I wouldn’t want to be surrounded by misery when my life is good either or listen to a broken record when there’s much better music to be heard. I am my own responsibility, I shouldn’t rely on others.

My thoughts consume me. Not in a cutesy I’m just a girl cringe kind of way but in a “I need to go to sleep as soon as possible to prevent an accident” because I cannot trust my own head to comfort me but to only make scenarios worse or feed into my paranoia. I am not built to be left alone. I constantly feel like I’m too much and not enough. I’ve never felt more loved but also so alone in all my life. Everything is black and white there is no grey areas with my mind.

I just don’t think anyone knows or understands how thin I’m being stretched and how badly I’d just love for everything to stop and to be able to catch my breath. Just for a day. I’ve cried for help but I don’t think the one person I need help from genuinely hears me. I dont trust many people to begin with. There’s only so much a single person can take before it starts to cripple them. And I know I can be over dramatic and too emotional at times but this genuinely feels like the end, I can’t see past this point in my life. And the sad part is I do not know how I got here. Or this far to begin with. But I am so tired. It’s times like these I wish I had my mom back or even just a family to lean on and seek advice from, but I can’t even entertain my own sister long enough to talk on the phone with me. I don’t understand why I exist or what my purpose is if all I’ve ever been exposed to is pain and abandonment. There’s some aspects of my life that I know I serve a purpose for and want to make proud, I’m trying my hardest for that one thing. I just don’t want to cause anymore damage than I already have. I can’t be like my mother.

I just needed somewhere to vent, some outlet. It won’t change anything. I feel hopeless and empty again. I might just delete everything. I don’t know.

The best I can do right now is try again tomorrow.

( if you read all of this thanks for listening to my rant and I’m sorry I wasted your time when you could have been scrolling onto something cooler like tiddies or anime idk but ty anyways <3 )

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artificialbreezy · 2 days

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Matt as a twin dad has been planted in my head so, dad omens is back!!

disclaimer: all photos found on pinterest, none of them are mine. this is simply a work of fiction, none of this has happened. ever.

so many thoughts under the cut ◡̈

started as a simple kind of moment tbh

a nice date, he just got home. he’s gonna be home for a while, no touring. what better way to tell Matty you’re ready.

“Matty, i love our little life and our fur babies but i think im ready to try for a real baby.”

you didn’t expect the first try to work tbh

and you really didn’t expect such an early positive test

and you really don’t expect two babies

Matt though? he was so excited

he gets to have TWO BABIES?!??

he’s texting the omens group chat the moment at appointments done

“YOU BITCHES ARENT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!!! THERES TWO LITTLE DUDES IN THERE!!!”

thus the planning begins

he’s never leaving you alone, he won’t let you mom by yourself. he WILL be an active dad

and when he finds out they’re both girls??? oh brother is fucked

he’s crying so so hard

“honey we need to pick another name, we only had one planned for each one.”

you settle on “Mira Jean Dierkes and Meadow Brooke Dierkes”

whenever he talks to them, “why hello my sweet M&M’s how are we feeling today?”

he was really excited for a lotr nursery but when you guys settled on the names he said no way, we have to do a subtle little candy land theme

Davis comes to paint the cute little candies above each of their cribs

Noah is Meadow’s godfather and Lana is Meadow’s godmother

Folio is Mira’s godfather and Davis is Mira’s “godparent bc Folio fucking took the godfather name”

you decide on a c-section with your obgyn, she makes sure to explain you can have natural birth after this one but it’s not fully recommended.

“don’t worry, we only wanted two and well we got them”

the birth was smooth, Matt was holding your hand the whole time

he cried more than he’d ever tell the guys

Noah, Davis, Folio and Lana all camped out in the hospital waiting room

with gifts

and balloons

and flowers

and Lana made a huge goody bag for just you

Matt and you swear to never dress the girls identical, you refuse to let either of them feel unseen

he carries both car seats to the car on the way out, helps you into the car, helps you to the front door, helps you straight to bed and then he’ll join you and his little ones

as they’re getting older and their personalities are coming in

you can definitely tell that Mira is just like her dad, has so much interest in his work and his shows and his movies and his music and she just loves her dad.

“you’re my little shadow, aren’t you Mira?”

and Meadow? loves her mama, loves sitting with her while she crochets and loves sitting with her while she reads and Meadow has her own little book, loves being with mama.

Mira looks like her mama though

and Meadow is the copy paste of Matt

buys them valentine’s day gifts

takes them each on one on one daddy/daughter days

and group days

Matt likes to joke with them too once they’re 4-5, purposely mixed up their names

“Mira here is your peanut butter and jelly with no crust and extra jelly.”

“Meadow here is your ham and cheese, hold the cheese.”

and he’s just chuckle a little when he sees them switch plates

ugly cries on the first day of school

every year tbh

high school about takes him out

what do you mean they’re gonna date soon???

what do you mean they’re gonna drive soon???

what do you mean they only have 4 years left???

Mira would rather skip out on the dances but Meadow begs and pleads her sister every time

so now you’re dress shopping AND suit shopping

“i’ll go Dow, but i am NOT wearing a dress.”

“that’s fine, i think you and J- “

“MEADOW SHUT IT.”

Matt and you just look at each other, and know. Mira is seeing someone.

and you guys don’t know much on it, until picture time before the dance comes around and you see the oldest Ruffilo child and Mira closer than usual and that’s when Matt calms himself

“god at least it’s his kid, could’ve been way worse.”

“i mean, do you think Mira was really just picking a pick shirt for nothing?” Meadow would bring up

“they had to match her suit to her dress.”

Nick comes up and talks about it later, wondering how much you two knew versus them.

everyone’s just happy they’re happy

they’d stay together throughout high school, finally coming clean end of freshman year

they decide a college together (with Meadow picking a college not far from her sister)

and suddenly the house is empty and Matt’s standing in the door way of the girls’ area of the house holding their baby book

“can’t believe they’re all grown up, honey.”

“we did good Matty.”

#dad omens #matt dierkes fanfiction #matt dierkes fluff #matt dierkes blurb #matt dierkes headcanon #bad omens blurb #bad omens fluff #bad omens headcanons #bad omens headcannon #matt dierkes headcannon

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zxoaii · 2 days

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Between Us

fem! reader x (aged up) Yuji Itadori / Sukuna

Summary: When Sukuna makes a move for Yuji, they both find themselves fighting for control of the situation.

WC: 1.1k

Note: Hi everyone! I don’t usually post JJK fanfiction here but I just started a new wattpad account so I’m trying to get some traction. If you enjoy this short chapter please consider checking out my preferences/oneshots book on wattpad! Characters include all popular JJK men.

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

"Do you know what I had to do to drag this brat up here?"I couldn't looked more shocked. Sukuna. The four eye, the markings, the assurance.

He leans against my doorframe and takes me in. "You really are beautiful." I could look more shocked. "I'm sorry?" Sukuna takes two steps forward into my apartment.

"This is ok, right?" His rhetorical tone is permanent when asking for anything. Because who would be stupid enough to say no to him?

"Did you know he's been keeping me away from you?" Is he talking about Yuji? "You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you." Right.

"I do know how to be a gentleman."

"Is that so?"

We both stare at each other for a moment. I'm sure this is when he'll kill me. "It is." Sukuna takes a seat on my couch.

He gives an annoyed sigh, shaking his head. "I'm sorry." Yuji was keeping Sukuna away from me specifically? He can't possibly mean he has... Romantic feelings for me.

Is he even capable of loving?

"Y/n, I am so sorry. I would never just let myself in like this." Yuji stands up from the couch. Did they just switch? In that moment?

"Stop being a pussy." He slaps his hand over his cheek. It's so much to take in I almost feel frozen. "You are a very beautiful woman and I'd love to take you out for dinner sometime, just maybe not tonight. I need to work some things out."

I shouldn't feel so flattered. They share a body and a mind. It's probably only natural if Yuji fell for me... Sukuna would too.

Right?

I follow Yuji to the door as he lets himself out. "I'm so sorry. Goodnight." He takes not one step out the door before locking up for a moment.

"See? He just can't do it." Sukuna lets himself back into my apartment. "I can." He shuts the door, leaving his hand next to my head. My back presses up against the door.

"Are you scared?"

There's no point in lying, the only real feeling I can distinguish right now is fear. I nod my head slightly. "That's fine." He pulls away to give me space.

My heart races in my chest. Why does this feel so exhilarating?

"What are you doing here?" My voice doesn't tremble like it did the last time I spoke. "That's a little delayed." Despite his space I haven't moved off the door.

"You can't actually be saying to me that you have... What, a crush?" I laugh at saying it aloud. "That's not possible."

"You're right. This is a need."

Oh god, my hand grips the door handle to support myself. "Are you going to run?" Sukuna leans against my counter. "No." Anyone with half a mind and a will to live would run.

"That damn brat..." I watch as the markings fade before me. Yuji has a softness in his gaze Sukuna could never fake.

"Are you ok?" He rushes to my side, grabbing my waist to help me stand. "I can stand I was just feeling a little..." What? Turned on?

"I wanted to make it romantic when I told you. I didn't want this asshole cornering you because it turns him on." I place my hand on his chest. Between the two of them I might need Sukuna to come back.

Is that cruel?

"Are you ok?" Yuji asks again. "I like you too Yuji-" "Really?" He cuts me off before I can finish my sentence. "Really? Would you want to go on a date?" Is he serious?

"Yes, but-"

Yuji cups my face and presses a kiss onto my lips. Finally. I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. If anyone else suddenly started burning up while we were making out I'd be worried.

The kiss gets rougher. I don't need to open my eyes to know Sukuna is kissing me. And I like it. I must have a death wish.

I have to pull away for a moment to catch my breath. Sukuna takes the opportunity to move down to other places. My head falls away from his, giving him better access to my neck.

His hands slide down to my hips. I really need these two to figure something out. Yuji pulls away from me, brushing his hair out of his face breathlessly.

"What do you want?"

An impossible question. I like Yuji. He's the person I fell for. I shouldn't want anything to do with Sukuna but that moment... I've never been kissed like that.

"I just need a minute to catch my breath." I say as I walk into the kitchen to give myself something to do. Yuji trails behind me slowly.

"I don't want him to mess this up."

"I don't think he wants to either."

The room is silent as I fill a glass with water. I turn the faucet off and immediately start gulping everything inside down.

Yuji grabs the glass from my hand when I finish and leaves it on the counter.

He's less assertive and bold with his movements but when his hand grabs my waist it kills me to not have my body against his.

When our lips finally meet again I notice the hunger behind each movement. He's letting himself have it. Each touch is lingering. His lips are more demanding.

I make my way blindly to the couch, holding him against me the entire way there. I pull away for only a second as my heel hits fabric to lay down.

The glazed look in his eyes remains for a moment before he's switched back to Sukuna. I expect him to say something but it never comes. Instead he leans over me and picks up where we left off.

His hands are more curious. They follow the curves of my body, exploring areas Yuji wouldn't go near. Sukuna kisses me with so much power and lust. I can feel my lips are swollen already.

"Are we going to make out all night?" I whisper against his lips. "No. Just for a few more minutes." He trails some kisses down my neck then attends to my lips again.

It seems like as soon as we start he's pulling away. Instead of going any further, Sukuna fixes his hair and makes his way towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

The grin on his face is all too telling that I gave him exactly what he wanted. A confession that I want him too.

"I find it's so much better when you play the long game with these things."

I watch from the couch as he leaves my apartment. A tease? Did I just get teased by a special grade? Was I really stupid enough to give in? Am I stupid enough to desperately wait for the next time?

Maybe I am.

#fanfic #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #itadori #itadori x reader #sukanaxreader #fanfiction #x female reader #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk fanfic

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solsticeswackstuff · 2 days

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College! Angela requested by @thesixthimmortal :)

Ok-they said College!Angela, so I am going to take that and RUN. if you know me IRL just a warning this is cringe

Angela flung her bag onto her bed, scattering its contents across the floor. She hummed loudly as she danced and buzzed around the room, tossing clothes into the laundry basket with exaggerated flourishes. She gallivants around the room loudly tidying up her side, but your voice cuts through her commotion, "Hey, could you keep that down for like 10 minutes? I really need to prepare for my next lab." Angela freezes, looking you over as you are hunched over your desk, paper spread out all around you. Angela can't help but notice that you've moved the coffee machine from the kitchen to your desk and she eyes your two cups, one actively filling coffee and one you are finishing. "Yeah, for sure, I will just head out for a bit," she responds.

You watched her rush out, a familiar pattern for you two. Typically, when she goes out this late, Angela brings someone back, and you are forced to room with one of your friends for the night. You silently pray that Angela doesn’t continue that part of your routine. This lab isn’t just any lab; it’s the one that could make or break your grade. The pressure is immense, and studying with distractions is the last thing you need.

As Angela wanders to the store near your dorm, her mind can't help but wander back to your slumped form and disheveled appearance. Mindlessly wandering the aisles, Angela half-haphazardly tosses things into her cart. She abruptly stops as she realizes she's in the soup aisle, she begins hesitating as she realizes you haven’t eaten all day. Angela had always admired your dedication, and seeing you so stressed tugged at her heart. Maybe she hadn’t always been the most considerate roommate, but today, she wanted to show she could be more. With that thought, Angela tosses a can into her cart.

When Angela enters the room, she makes sure to be as quiet as possible, a complete reversal of her earlier actions. While you work, she puts away her groceries, except for the soup. She prepared it with meticulous care, even tackling the dishes��a chore she usually avoided unless you told her to. As Angela stirred the soup, she couldn’t help but think of how she often took your friendship for granted. Angela also thought back to when you shared your notes and coffee during her rough exam period, this small act was her way to give back.

You are so completely engrossed in your work that you don’t hear her set the bowl down until she clears her throat. Angela’s voice was soft, almost hesitant as she said, "I brought you some soup. I know you’ve been working hard and… well, I just wanted to make sure you ate something." before quickly flopping down in her bed, not knowing how to respond to your silence. A brief pang of doubt crossed Angela’s face as you returned to your work. Had she overstepped? Did you even appreciate her gesture? Angela's doubt stopped when you looked up you gave her your thanks, before diving in. As the warm comforting liquid falls into your throat, you can’t help but think that this is the best thing the best soup you have ever eaten.

The alarm you set to go to class blares and as you are physically (and mentally) preparing for this hell of a lab Angela, no louder than a whisper asks “Would you want me to walk you there?”. Surprised by her sounding so timid you can’t help but find it endearing. You nod and you two walk out together and begin discussing your days, busy but in different ways. Angela wishes you luck as you head in and you can’t help but appreciate how much she has been there for you today.

After the lab, you were extremely exhausted. As you walked out of the building, you saw Angela waiting for you. She had her usual energy returned and told you humorous stories about her day while gesturing wildly. Feeling tired, you started to wobble, so Angela supported you by holding your waist—just to support you, she repeated herself. You leaned on her for the rest of the journey home, grateful for all she does for you.

The door opens with a creak, and Angela practically drags you into bed, waiting for you to let go. As you cling to her, she hesitates before climbing in beside you, watching the tension leave your body for the first time that day. She holds you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and watching for a reaction. You pull her closer, and she gives you a small nod. You close the gap between your faces, which had always seemed too large. At that moment, you realize that the soup was good, but this—this closeness and unspoken understanding—is something far more precious.

#angela thoughts #angela giarratana #angela smosh #smoshblr #angela asks #angela x reader #answered asks

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lunar-years · 1 day

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Jamie spending so much time with Roy and visibly being so close to Roy that even Roy’s little niece takes note and ensures he’s invited to their Uncle’s Day celebration as Uncle Roy’s best friend, YET Jamie still being surprised, flattered and excited several episodes later when Roy does something as simple as invite him out for a beer, because that’s clearly something that’s unprecedented—the first opportunity to hang out as friends without any guise of it being for football—is just soooooo!! The implications are so silly. Roy definitely spent the entire season framing every interaction he had with Jamie around “work” and “training” even when he really just needed to be around someone (well, specifically around Jamie) because his ass couldn’t just admit he likes having Jamie around. We know from the show he showed up at least once in the evening for “once more before dinner” (Roy…it was literally dark outside and you’d already had Jamie running around twice that day. be forreal)

…so anyway! Roy bringing dinner over to Jamie’s 4 nights a week and it’s really because he doesn’t want to eat alone and having his meals with Jamie is just better, but he still disguises it every time as “well I obviously need to make sure your nutrition is sound and you are eating enough and the right things this is a very important part of your training. I am doing you a crucial service.” Roy bringing Jamie along with him when he watches Phoebe because Phoebe and Jamie adore each other, but Roy “makes” him show her some footie tricks in his back garden and claims it’s because “being able to explain it to someone else is how you become a leader on the team this is very important” or else has him haul phoebes around on his back or whatever as “strength training” to make himself feel better about just wanting Jamie to be there to hang out. Roy following Jamie back home after matches because he needs to “assess his post-match routine and make sure he’s not overdoing it,” but really it’s just them plopped on Jamie’s couch watching bad reality tv and judging it together. And then *obviously* he might as well stay over, so that he can also observe and give Jamie his helpful advice on a morning wake up and stretch routine. Totally necessary!

And look, part of Jamie understands what’s really happening here and at least sort of knows Roy really does like spending time with him outside of just work and training (hence all his best friend teasing on Uncle’s Day), but Jamie is also a bit of an idiot (affectionate) who in equal measure sort of believes he’s just deluding himself and that all of this really has been an elaborate and effective training scheme from Coach Roy.™️ They perplex and bewitch me. s

#Roy your incredibly stunted ability to express the overwhelming weight of the emotions inside you enchants and alarms me #silly silly boys #also yes I am still on the bones and honey scene lmao I’ve been thinking about it a LOT this week #like even if you set aside that Jamie may have thought roy was asking him out (a theory I tend to agree with)#isn't that even MORE bewildering?? like that means Jamie was THAT happy and shook about being asked to hang out as FRIENDS.#because roy really has never once done that without pretending it's actually about something else #roy you stupid idiot (affectionate)#Jamie Tartt #Roy Kent #royjamie #ted lasso

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urfavfakeblonde · 3 days

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can u write a smut where fem reader is a virgin and stiles is some what experienced and stiles goes slow with her??

ₛₜᵤdy ₛₑₛₛᵢₒₙ

hi!! yes <3 thank you so much for requesting love

Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader

warnings: lots of foreplay!! fuffly, fingering, HEAVY makeouts oml, game sex??? idk lol, p n v, virgin!fem!reader, implied!experineced!Stiles

mdni

I cautiously walk up the steps to his house, nervous fingers picking at my chipped nail polish. I take a deep breath as I knock on the door lightly, my other hand fiddling with the ends of my hair. It's just a study session, stop shaking. At least that's what I tell myself before the door opens softly, and I'm face to face with Stiles. He smiles at me, and I almost forget how to breath. "Hi," I say with a smile, eyes avoiding his gaze. He moves to the side to let me in, responding with a 'Hey'.

"Thanks for coming over," he says, closing the door gently. My mind is swirling with thoughts, emotions-- and honestly, I don't know how I'm going to get through this evening. "I'm pretty sure you understand English a lot more than I do," he remarks, turning around to face my timid figure. I smile, blush creeping onto my cheeks. "I don't know about that," I giggle, looking around the house as if I hadn't been here before. But before, I mean that was just a pack meeting, this--this is more than that.

Well, not really, were just studying, but this is the first time it's just been me and Stiles. Alone.

I follow him up the stairs, and into his bedroom. "Where's your dad?" I question, setting my bag down beside his bed. "Work," he replies, sitting at his desk, shoving aside all his crime papers. I nod, even though he can't see me, and look around his room. A simple grey wallpaper, the typical teenage boy posters; half-made bed, a lamp, and of course-- lots and lots of papers. Eventually, we sit on the floor, looking through my notes, (because stiles didn't take any) and write his English paper. "Okay, I'll quiz you. What's a Caesura?" Stiles thinks for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as he lies on his back. "When the punctuation is in the middle of the poem before the line ends?" He finally says, glancing up at me. I smile and nod, flipping to the next flashcard.

"Okay, what's a Syntax?" He looks back up at the ceiling and furrows his brows. "No clue," He utters, sitting upright. "It's the-" suddenly he takes the flashcards out of my hand as I give him a confused look. "I was gonna tell you what it was," I say, sighing. He looks at me, and I feel my heart flutter. Pink starts rising into my cheeks again as he holds the flashcard in front of him. "Tell me what it is," he asks. "Why? You're the one who needs the help Stiles-" he cuts me off by shushing my lips with his finger. My heart literally skips a beat as he slowly drags it down, my lip following obediently. He moves his finger back to the flashcard, an action that he believed to be nothing but innocent. He asked me something again, but I continued to stare at him, specifically his hand. "Y/n?" He asks, shifting his head to capture my eyes again. This stopped me from zoning out; quietly clearing my throat. "Sorry," I mumble while my fingers pick away my nail polish again. "What's a Syntax?" He asks again, eyes boring into mine. "The way the piece is structured," I say as he smiles. It's quiet for a moment, and when my eyes lift up, my gaze is locked with his.

"I have an idea," he says, standing up. He reaches his hand out for mine, and I take it hesitantly. "You've been helping me, it's only fair I help you." He says, pulling me to my feet. When I'm up, I notice how close I am to him, especially that he hasn't let go of my hand. I swallow hard, trying my best to maintain eye contact with him. "We'll play a game; you ask me questions and every time I get one right you have to take off one of your clothes," he whispers softly. My eyes widen, and I feel my heart starting to beat faster. "And if you get it wrong?" I whisper back, leaning in closer. He just smiles as he dips his head, connecting his lips with mine.

I cannot believe this is happening to me. I am fucking kissing Stiles Stilinski, my crush since elementary school and God does it feel just how I always imagined it would. The kiss is gentle, caring. I pull back slowly as I make eye contact with him again. I swallow hard and feel my hands start to shake a little in his soft hands. "Um, I've never really...kissed anyone before. Well, before now," I whisper, nervous beyond belief. He just smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "See? You teach me, I'll teach you." He gives me a comforting smile before cupping his hand behind the base of my neck, pulling me in for another kiss. This time, it's more feverent, hurried. Like he was going to lose me if he stops. I learn as he kissed, opening my mouth enough for his tongue to slip in, a gentle hum coming from my throat.

My hands, more comfortable now, move up to dance through his dark hair, nails gently scratching his scalp. He was taller than me, causing my head to have to lean up just to kiss him, but it felt magical. I felt safe in his hold, rough, but gentle hands tilting my head up to meet his kiss. He pulled away enough to kiss down my jaw, down to my neck as my head tilts back with eyes closed. My fingers continue to dance through his hair, a soft whine releasing from my mouth when he found my sweet spot. I felt him smirk against my neck, mouth traveling back up to meet my mouth again. He moves me backwards, letting us fall softly on the mattress. He kissed back down my jaw again, but further this time as he reached my collarbone. He sucked a hickey on the side, causing my core to ache and clench around nothing. "fuck sti," I whine, letting my hands fall to his biceps. He liked the nickname--I could tell; a soft smile forming on his kissed lips as he rested above me.

"Ask away," he whispers, leaving sloppy, wet kisses all over my neck. In a way, it was all almost too overwhelming, but somehow it felt like it was supposed to happen. I couldn't focus, not with my core aching, legs moving softly as if to get some release. "What's a -fuck,-an enjambment," I ask, hands roaming his body. "Mhm," he kisses my collarbone again softly, lips trailing to my ear. "When the line ends with no punctation," he says, smirking as I nod. He lets his fingers dance under the hem of my shirt. He slowly peels it off, letting it slide over my head before throwing it on the floor somewhere behind him. He's quick to kiss my stomach, my body arching up into his gentle touch. "Next," he whispers, kissing the tops of my breasts. My breathing intensifies, hands running through his hair again. "How do you spell philanthropy," I ask, my teeth catching my lower lip. He looks up at me and grins, as he licks his lips. "If you wanted me to take my shirt off, all you had to do was ask," he chuckles, leveling his face above mine. "That's not how the game works, " I giggle, running hands down his arms. "I bet you don't even know how to spell that," he smiles, taking off his shirt.

The navy-blue cloths fall onto the floor with a quiet, thump as he repositions himself above me. "But you wouldn't know if I was right, would you?" I playfully ask, biting my lip. He chuckles softly, catching my lips in a kiss once again. My fingers trace his stomach, soft enough to make him shiver. "What's a metaphor?" I ask as he looks down at me. "A figure of speech when a word or phrase is applied to an object or action that has no real relation to the word," He answers proudly. This time, his fingers dance under the hem of my jeans, before his fingers undid the brass button and zipper. He helps me drag them down, before adding them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. "Fuck," he whispers under his breath, eyes taking in the thin white panties that so effortlessly match with the bra. I bite my lip, trying to overcome my nerves. My body wants to close up, run away but I can't bring myself to do it. Not when he's looking at my body like he wants to fuck me till morning.

His fingers hover above the straps along my hips before lifting them up slowly before letting them snap back against my skin. I gasp, the wetness in my panties growing larger, it was almost embarrassing. "How do you spell rhythm?" I ask, a grin forming on my face. He rolls his eyes, kissing my stomach. "r-y-t-h-m-n," he answers, confident in his answer. I giggle and shake my head, "r-h-y-t-h-m-n," I say, watching as he sighs in defeat. He slips off his jeans, throwing them in the darkness somewhere. "Okay, I see how it is ms. I'magoodspeller," he says, messing with the straps of my bra. My face starts to flush, the realization that this answer could leave me bare in front of him.

"How do you spell Indispensable?" I stay silent. I have no fucking clue how to spell that word. Fuck. "I-n-d-i-s-p-e-n-s-i-b-l-e?" I answer. "Wait no, it's with an "a"! I-n-d-i-s-p-e-n-s-a-b-l-e!" I say quickly, trying to retract my previous answer. "You got it wrong the first time, no take backs," He chuckles, hands slowly lifting down the straps to my bra before reaching behind my back to unclasp it. It lays limp until he slides it off my arms; perky nipples on display as goosebumps litter my body. He lets his eyes linger for a moment, admiring the sight before him. "Fuck you're pretty," he whispers, his rough hand moving up to massage the soft flesh. I bite my lip, watching as he leans down, pausing for a moment before taking the bud into his mouth. "Oh shit," I whine, my hands returning into his dark hair once again-this time pulling and tugging. He swirls his tongue around before sucking it gently to let it go with a soft pop! He kisses between my breasts, taking the other bud into his mouth to give it the same attention.

My body arched up into him, my clothed clit brushing against his hard erection in his boxers. "Please Stiles..." I whine, my core pulsing at the lack of attention. "I know, I know," he whispers, sucking onto that sweet spot once again. His hand finally travels lower, antagonizingly slow I might add, as he slips his fingers over my white, lacy panties. He begins to rub small circles over my clit, kissing my neck, jaw and chest as I arch into his touch. He brings his lips back up to mine, accepting my moans as he fastens his pace. My legs wrap around his torso, my aching and empty hole begging to be fucked for the first time. "Sti-I, fuck, please-" I whimper, head thrown back in ecstasy. God if he can do this with just his fingers-no his hand, then fuck. The wet patch in my panties begins to grow, fingers rubbing fast and small circles around my bud. "please, please, please...fuck sti!" I moan, hips moving back and forth to fasten the rhythm of his hand.

Suddenly, he slips his fingers into my panties, letting a digit slip into my sopping hole. I moan loudly into his mouth as he kisses me, letting another digit in to fuck me softly. My body starts to shake from the overwhelming feeling, the band breaking as he curls his fingers into my G-spot. My mouth opens as a loud moan escapes me, body shaking as he slips his tongue into my mouth, fingers riding out my high. "That's it, I've got you," he coo's, kissing my neck as my body settles down the shaking. I close my eyes, sweaty body breathing heavily against his chest. I feel him slip my panties off, throwing them in the pile of jeans and shirts. "You okay?" He asks, caressing my face softly. I nod, licking my lips. "I want more," I whisper. "Please." He smiles at my question throwing off his boxers. "Whatever you want," he answers, kissing my cheek. He leans over to his drawer, grabbing a condom as he slides it over his length. He leans down to kiss me as he moves his hands under my legs, bending them forward as he pushes into me. I let a satisfied whine out into his mouth, the feeling of him inside me already feeling so good. He kisses me deeply, letting his tongue explore my mouth. He starts slow, letting his forehead connect with mine, heavy breaths coming from our mouths.

"Fuck you're amazing," he groans, pushing out slow before bottoming out quickly. This let moans come as they will, back arching off the bed, and the steady shaking from my legs to make it all feel so lifechanging. It didn't take long before I felt the cord in me about to break again, my hands cupping his neck as I moaned out soft praises. "Sti-" I whine, met with a groan from his lips. "Fuck, I know, me too-" he says, fastening his pace. My legs began to shake once again, breathing becoming heavier than before. "Fuck, please Sti-oh shit," I moan, hips meeting his thrusts. The cord finally snapped, body arching up off the bed as Stiles kisses my neck again. "Fuck," he groans, pulling out quickly to release in the condom. He lays next to me, tracing my stomach softly. "Are you okay?" He whispers, sitting up. I nod and smile, glancing at him. He smiles back, going to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and return with a wet rag. He drags it across my body, soaking up the sweat and spit from his kisses. "You wanna stay the night?" I nod as he leans down to kiss me.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski x reader smut #teen wolf #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylanobriensmut #dylan o'brien #smut #✨🎀✨🤞

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elderberries-and-honey · 3 days

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𝙈𝙮 𝘾𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨 & 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜

A while back I received this question asking if I'd mind explaining what my creative process is like and some wanted further explanation about what goes into planning multiple generations & arcs. I do apologize that this is so overdue, and it's literally taken me months to get to. My process is always changing, and I'm constantly adding in pieces that help make the process easier. Because of this, the way I answered the question back then is also quite outdated, at least in terms of how I plan each shoot/post, and I'll hopefully provide further clarification below the cut.

However, first and foremost, I want to say I am by no means an expert and different processes work for different people. Your creative process might look totally different than mine, and that's okay! Whatever keeps you coming back and sharing your work is always going to be the best & most efficient way of doing things.

But I do think it's helpful to get insight into what works for others when you have no clue how to plan things like this, or where to even begin. So, without further ado, here is my process.

Mainly, I use a website called Milanote. It's super helpful for organization purposes, and it's mostly free. They have free templates you can use, or you can make your own. The only downside to it is you're limited on the number of "cards" that are available to you. They do have a promo that you can use where if you get someone else to sign up, you get more cards, which is what I did.

My main folder basically looks like this:

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙀𝘼𝙍𝘾𝙃

The research folder is an unorganized, organized mess and basically just looks like this:

This is where I keep all my resources, and all of the things I've researched for my story. As you can see, this includes various sources like YouTube videos, various articles, quotes, photos and even some music as well. I like having this all in one place so it's easily accessible for me, but you could just easily keep all of this in a Google or Word doc if you're low on 'cards'.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝙍𝘾𝙎

Next we have these two sections. Obviously, I had to cover them up to avoid spoilers but I did label them to hopefully provide insight. Essentially, for this decade in particular, there are going to be various arcs happening at once, especially since the children will be growing into adults and laying their foundation is going to become crucial to the story. However, I'm trying to limit myself from having too much going on at once, which is why I try to limit myself to only four arcs playing out at once.

I will also say that Plot's A through C are interconnected, or at least they will be eventually, while Plot D concerns one of the children and will impact things later down the line. This is super important for really tying different ideas together, and making sure random plots don't seem to just pop up out of the blue.

The table for myself helps a lot with this, so that I can easily see what arcs have been started, and how many 'scenes' each one has. I find this to be useful because then I know that none of the arcs are stretching too long, which ones might need more fine tuning and which ones have yet to flourish or even begin.

Each arc basically has something like this going from beginning to end, essentially following the classic three act structure. Not all of them have five components, some more or less, but generally it ends up being five. Now, this doesn't mean every plot is only five posts or anything like that. Most of the time, the timeline of events needs to be broken off into bite sized pieces and that's okay.

The resolution doesn't always mean a happy ending, and can also serve as a way for me to introduce any new arcs for a specific character, which would then start the process over. You can kind of think about this when watching a lot of television shows. We watch all this build up starting on episode one, and things get more and more intense until we finally reach the season finale. And then woah, with two minutes left of the episode, we see that the character they just thought was dead is actually alive?! Which then leads us into season two.

I do think planning this way could feel really tedious for some, but I like to map things out before I start introducing any arcs so I at least know it isn't a quick "one shot" plot, something without actual purpose or an arc that doesn't really seem to have any sort of end goal that makes logical sense. It also just helps me remember what everyone's up to, especially when there are so many characters to keep track of.

𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙀

Before I go into the game, I basically write out a "rough draft" of sorts. This includes dialogue, any background noises (things like a clock ticking or the tapping of a pencil), a brief description of each shot/photo (including any post-editing things like adding blur effect), and a summary of what's happening in each panel.

Because I only use one document for this, and clear it out once I complete a scene, I do not have any examples to show from The Baudelaire Legacy, so I created a mock-up scenario in which Ozzy flunks a difficult test at school, as seen below.

Once I have that written, I plug it into my 'scene planning' board. However, I only include the shot/photos, and the short summary. On Milanote, I also plug in the location, time of day, attire and any pose accessories I might need (so that I remember to create an extra outfit for it). This ends up looking like the example below.

I typically will only have this open on my second monitor while I'm shooting the scene, and I just tick the boxes as I go along. This is really nice if you have to stop mid-shoot, and helps me pick up where I left off without getting confused.

I do also edit each panel in-between shooting to make sure I'm getting the shots I want, however, I don't encourage everyone to have Photoshop and Sims 4 open at the same time.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙎

Then we have the character sheets for each of our characters. Right now, I'm only focusing on Lawrence & Winifred (though, the children's arcs are in a 'idea dump' document).

For me, this is the most important piece of the story. One of the reasons shows like The Sopranos and Breaking Bad are considered some of the best writing in television history, is mostly due to the fact that, in my opinion, they prioritize this as well. It's always good to have a strong character in mind before you begin, and this is because you don't want them to step outside themselves.

Of course, your character can change and bend within their environment or plots happening around them, and they certainly should, but you also need to ask yourself if it's being done logically. Asking yourself, 'Why did they end up this way?', 'How did we get here?' and 'How would this character specifically react to an intense situation, stress or hardship?' is crucial when writing a character that feels alive.

Having something like this helps me build their "character arc" and map it out so no one ends up being left in the dust and makes sure that everyone is important in some way. Each of the children will have a sheet created for them once they reach the teen life state as well.

I also use this page as a way to record any quirks, or habits they have. These don't have to be major or super important either. So for example, on Lawrence's character sheet, I have it written down that he wears glasses to read; a very small thing casual readers probably wouldn't even pay attention to, so it feels like an important detail to me.

𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙋𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙎𝙃𝙀𝙀𝙏𝙎

In addition to Milanote, I also Google Sheets/Docs. This is where I keep my spreadsheet and write / keep a hard copy of my story.

My spreadsheet is basically broken up into four different tabs - one for the main sims information (the Baudelaire's), side household information, my story posts and my ageing table.

My information tables look something like this:

For story posts, I use @aheathen-conceivably's method of tracking, which you can read about here. The only thing I have added in addition to what she has is a "notes" section, and this where I include any sort of post that doesn't specifically fit into any arc but is still important - things like birthdays, marriages, holidays, etc.

𝙈𝙄𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙇𝙇𝘼𝙉𝙀𝙊𝙐𝙎 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉

In addition to all of these things, I also use Pinterest to create moodboards for each decade, as well as each character. I like to include all sorts of things like any inspiration I'm drawing from (so, things like Greta Gerwig's Little Women or HBO's Gilded Age), photos, quotes, etc.

Annnnd that's basically it! I'm hoping this provides some good insight, and is helpful in some way. I know it seems like a lot, but the more you do it, and the more you plan, the more natural it will start to feel. Again, I am not an expert in any way, and it's always difficult to explain your process in this way (and probably why I put off trying to do so for such a long time). So, please feel free to ask for clarification in regards to any part of the above.

Happy Simming ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃

#i have started and stopped writing this out so many times since i first got this ask #like why was this so hard #anyway...this is the level of madness that goes into the baudelaire legacy 🫡#it's a labour of love though i swear!!!#resources and tutorials #baudelaire extras

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crisis-starter · 19 hours

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Mirabelle’s thing took more effort than I thought!

Mostly because I… can’t really take anymore of the innate desire to scrap what I just wrote because the grammatical and punctuational errors in the Change God’s dialogue, though purposeful, are driving me up the wall.

For now, have a Mirabelle Loops thing…

)•{+}•<>+<>•{+}•(

Mirabelle was… perplexed to be brought back to the room where her Change God statue was, even though they already had obtained the Keyknife (or Knifekey, as Siffrin called it after it was sharpened). The group had looked the room up and down and had nothing else left to investigate. So why were they here again? Siffrin seemed to look at the statue in thought.

Mirabelle glanced at Bonnie, who seemed to try and gauge the correct timing for something. Mirabelle was about to ask before Siffrin called, “Mira, can you put your hand on the statue?” The housemaiden turned to look at Siffrin before complying hesitantly, “Hm? Um, sure?” It was a fairly simple thing. It wouldn’t hurt to try.

It wasn’t painful, but hearing a whistle and then waking up in a white void is not something you expect to experience on a normal day. Or, rather, as normal as the day before the end of the world can get. But hey! At least Mirabelle isn’t alone! Siffrin is with her!

She was about to ask Siffrin to hear their opinion before the rogue entered a fighting stance and informed, “Someone’s there, Mira!” Mirabelle’s head snapped to the figure approaching them, startled. She needed to help Siffrin! But wait… isn’t that… “The… the Head Housemaiden?”

Euphrasie looked almost… offended? Then a buzzer sounded for some odd reason. It slightly distracted her before she noticed the Euphrasie was replaced by Bonnie! The shape shifting figure feigned despair, “mirabelle!!! how could you not recognize little old me!?!?! (·•᷄∩•᷅ )” How on earth did the figure do that with their mouth? Things aside, “They changed shapes!” It was… nice to know Siffrin was just as unnerved as she was.

The figure shifted to look like Siffrin for a sec, startling the rogue next to Mirabelle a bit. They put their hands on their hips before giggling, “well yeah!! don’t you know who I am?? (*´▽`*)” Mirabelle took a second to think before expressing her own little version of shock, “The Change God?!” The figure shifted into Bonnie before twirling and exclaiming with a big smile, “ding ding ding!!! hiya! it’s me, the change god!!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧”

Mirabelle paused to interpret what she was seeing. The guilt of being a bad housemaiden started to hit her like a truck. And if Siffrin’s concern and the Change God’s shock were anything to indicate, Mirabelle was bawling. In a state of surprise, the Change God shifted to look like Mirabelle for a second before turning into Isabeau, trying to comfort her, “mirabelle!!! what happened?? im sorry if i upset you!! (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )”

Mirabelle wiped her tears, hiccups lacing her words, “No no… it’s th-that… I’m sorry for being a bad housemaiden. For stagnating, for not trying new things… For not… Changing…” She feels safer, just being cutesy Mirabelle. Even the title of Savior stresses her out to no end! So undergoing Change itself? That would feel tantamount to scaling a mountain with nothing to break your fall.

The Change God looked blankly at Mirabelle before saying, “oh that!!! dont worry about it ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭ I dont care” Now it was Mirabelle’s turn to be confused, “Huh?” The figure shifted to look like Odile before explaining, “if i was mad about it then i wouldn’t have helped you as much as i did right? but well wouldja look at that! you got the keyknife!!! i did it because I believe in you!! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-“ Siffrin looked less tense, but still bit alarmed. The Change God continued, shifting to look like a star… person for a split second, “also… THIS PLAY NEEDS MORE VARIETY. BUT DO NOT WORRY. YOU WILL FIND AID. YOU JUST NEED TO LEARN WHEN TO CATCH IT.”

Mirabelle stopped crying. She was startled by the final thing the Change God told her. A play? Nonetheless, she felt at least a bit reassured. The Change God shifted to look like Isabeau before starting to talk, “i will tell you something very important, so listen close. ( •̀ - •́ )” The change god reverted to Isabeau’s image, “for a ton of reasons, you won’t remember it!” They cocked their head sightly to the side, “well, your mind won’t but your heart will!!! ଘ(੭´꒳`)°* ੈ‧₊˚” They sighed, “it’s true that i don’t help humans much, but my measly god powers are nothing compared to yours!!! ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) you’re doing incredible mirabelle, even if you don’t believe it at first (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) but, just in case that isn’t enough…”

The Change God abandoned the appearances and revealed Mirabelle’s statue, but animated. They softened their voice to something gentle, a far cry from the dramatic display they gave prior, “you are loved, mirabelle. i see you changing, even if you do not. you are always changing, always evolving. you are not stagnating in any way. and even if you were, that would be fine, because life is about changes but it’s also about staying right where you are sometimes. I am proud of you,” they immediately switched back to their expressive self, “and i love you!!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡ and i love the stupid ugly face you gave me and i wont ever let anyone destroy it!!! o( ˶^▾^˶ )o remember that okay!!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)”

Mirabelle smirked before giggling, “Thank you, Change God. You are nothing like I was expecting, but…” The housemaiden gave a big smile, “I would expect nothing less from you!” She thought she spotted something from the corner of her eye. Was Siffrin still… suspicious? But the Change God has been so…

Then the god snapped her out of her thought process, looking like Bonnie this time, “before you go, i have a gift for you! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ꕤ*.ﾟ” the whistle of wind sounded in her ears. Mirabelle looked at the Change God confused, “What wa-“ The Change God giggled before saying, “bye bye now!!! i’ll talk to siffrin and then it’s back to the mission at hand!!! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ”

Mirabelle panicked, calling out, “WAIT! WHAT…” her voice faltered when she found herself in the prayer room again, “…was that?” Siffrin woke up from a trance seconds after, slightly pensive about… something. Mirabelle felt weird. Something like… being able to learn more? No, not that exactly. More like… agh it barely makes sense in her head.

Isabeau questioned if she and Siffrin were alright. He commented that it looked like you both looked almost… half conscious. Hm. Mirabelle caught Odile’s suggestion that the team should proceed if everyone was okay. You agreed with her assessment. You and your rag tag group of friends should get going.

You have a king to defeat and a country to save after all.

)•{+}•<>+<>•{+}•(

MIRABELLE IS DONE

Okay, so here’s what I’m going to do about the filler posts. I’ve decided that I’ll put the filler posts through a queue.

I‘ve also decided to maybe try all of the options. Because most of them are very new to me.

I don’t doodle or draw as much as you’d be led to believe (and even then they are quite abstract I guess?), and I’ve never touched digital art. I’ve never run an ask blog before. I’ve given WIP commentary to friends on Discord but not on Tumblr. So… I am just the slightest bit nervous that I might do something wrong…..

But anyway, here is my challenge on Odile’s chapter:

Putting this entire scene into words from Odile’s perspective.

To my darling audience:

Good Morning

Good Day

Good Afternoon

Good Evening

Good Night

#caught in a spiral #in stars and time #isat au #isat #isat mirabelle #isat siffrin #cias au

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