#i keep meaning to learn but i am a lazy lady

[moonkissedmagic]

lavender & honey (chapter 1)

pairings: Agatha x Reader, Wanda x Reader

synopsis: As you begin to finally open yourself back up to the possibility of love, the ghost of your past makes her return.

a/n: Been reading about my ladies so much, I decided to finally just write for them :)

I love writing, but this isn’t necessarily my thing, so please be kind! As of right now, I have like half a plan for this, so if anyone has any ideas at any point, please let me know! Enjoy!

P.S. We love yearning and drama over here! I am dramatic! I use dramatic language! Be warned!

word count: 5.1k

— —- —- —- —- —- — —- —- —- —- —-

chapter 1 -

Morning comes softly in your little corner of town.

It seeps in slowly through the tall front windows of Lavender & Honey, casting golden light across the polished wood floors and the leafy silhouettes of potted ferns still heavy with dew. Outside, the street yawns to life with the occasional rattle of a bicycle or the whisper of a neighbor’s dog walk. But inside the shop, it’s a quiet that hums—alive with the scent of soil, morning-brewed tea, and a hint of cinnamon.

You open every day at seven. Not because the foot traffic demands it, but because there’s a peace in the early hours—when you can talk to the plants without anyone thinking you’re strange, and when the world hasn’t yet tried to ask too much of you.

The bell over the door gives a lazy chime as you unlock it and prop it open, letting the cool morning breeze sweep in. You set about your ritual: watering the succulents by the window, trimming browning petals from yesterday’s bouquets, checking the cooler full of pre-made arrangements. There’s a rhythm to it. One you’ve built safely around your work.

The day unravels as most days do—soft, comfortable, long. While you’re successful enough to keep the shop open without worry, you’re by no means a bustling business. Your plants keep you from going crazy, but don’t always ease the looming sense of loneliness.

Just before closing, the bell rings again and you look at the newcomers—a couple, young and in their early twenties. There’s a lightness about them, a softness in the way they walk shoulder to shoulder. They step inside carefully, eyes wide and delighted, whispering to each other in awe at the fresh arrangements. The bride-to-be clasps her hands in front of her, cheeks glowing with quiet excitement as she points to the peonies. Her fiancé lingers beside her, clearly smitten, nodding along like the flowers themselves are meant to impress him. You offer a gentle smile and ask if they need any help. They gush—sweet and unreserved—about their engagement, the bride half-laughing as she confesses she just couldn’t wait to start planning.

You keep smiling, offering compliments and congratulations with the ease of long practice, but something tugs inside of you. A familiar sting, quiet but persistent. It doesn’t hurt the way it once did, but the ache is still there—dulled now, like an old wound that flares up when the season changes. Still, you mean every word you offer them. Wistful envy is an emotion you’ve become quite familiar with, having learned to live beside it, rather than resenting it.

You lock up, motions echoing those from the morning, only now they’re slower, heavier with exhaustion that’s settled into your limbs like fog.

A long shower and your favorite takeout are sounding better by the second, but that plan goes out the window as soon as your phone buzzes on the counter.

Jen: Don’t even TRY to get out of coming tonight, Y/N!!

Jen: Your ass better be there by 10 or I’m blasting pictures from when you drank a whole fucking bottle of tequila

You huff out a laugh at how well she knows you, rolling your eyes as you immediately respond.

You: low blow, kale. low blow.

You: but i agree that was not my finest moment

Sighing, you convince yourself it would be nice to see everyone, even if you would rather be in your pajamas on the couch.

You: ugh fine! i’ll be there

Jen: Wear something sexy!!!! You know who is coming ;)

You: goodbye jennifer

You brush her off, but can’t deny the light blush that dusts your cheeks. You can’t help but picture her. Your current... Crush? Obsession? Something quieter and far more dangerous than you’re ready to name? Nothing has happened yet—you’re not entirely sure it will, considering you and your crippling fear of trust and commitment—but god, you want it to. You shake off the heated thoughts that begin to root themselves in your brain, finishing up and heading home to get ready.

The hot shower is grounding, steam curling around you like a cocoon, washing away the residue of the day. You lose yourself in the familiar ritual—curling your hair, drawing on eyeliner with a practiced flick, humming along to your favorite songs. Choosing your outfit takes longer than you'd like to admit, clothes tossed carelessly across your carpet like fallen leaves. Eventually, you land on a black lace top that clings in all the right places, sheer and hinting at the matching bra beneath it. It’s paired with a skirt short enough to feel daring, but long enough to still feel like you. Sexy, but not trying too hard. Jen would approve.

The lingering scent of your perfume and sound of your heels follow you out the door, nerves settling low in your stomach. You’re not exactly a club girl, and it’s been ages since you last went out. Still, you square your shoulders and take a deep breath, attempting to prepare yourself for the night ahead. You text Jen that you’re on the way, receiving an enthusiastic reply with way too many exclamation points.

You've barely stepped out of your car when you hear it. Warm and melodic and far too intoxicating.

“Y/N!”

Your breath catches. Of course. Of course she’d be waiting outside like some kind of beautiful surprise the universe left just for you. She stands there, radiant as ever in the glow of the club's neon sign, all flushed cheeks and tender eyes that make your knees feel weak.

Your smile is a bit tense, but nonetheless genuine as you respond, “Wanda! How are you?”

The Sokovian beams and it feels like your chest expands to make room for the way she looks at you. She drinks you in with those eyes, slow and deliberate, like she’s cataloging every inch of you for later. And when she finally speaks—

“Better now that you’re here, dorogoy.”

Your cheeks blaze. She always does this—calls you names, soft and accent laced. Makes your stomach twist in too many directions. Gives you a feeling you thought was reserved for only one person.

“You’re sweet,” you softly remark.

“Not as sweet as you, I’m sure,” she smirks back.

You chuckle and clear your throat in hopes of breaking the rapidly growing tension, not exactly sure how to respond.

This is too much, too fast you think. Realistically you know it’s not—it’s barely anything and you’ve known Wanda for months now—if anything it’s been too little, too slow. But there’s no buffer, no anyone around, and you feel exposed. You think you really like her and you don’t want to fuck it up. It’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone, let alone interested in anyone, and you feel severely out of practice.

Before you can spiral further, Wanda nods toward the club’s entrance where music pulses through the brick walls in time with your rapidly growing headache. “Ready to brave the storm?”

You smile gratefully, still a bit shy, and fall into step beside her. Her hand finds the small of your back, fingers steady and reassuring. It feels nice, you think—the combination of her warm skin and cool rings sends shivers down your spine. You keep your composure, refusing to implode from one simple touch.

Once you step inside, the world seemingly transforms. Everything is alive—the floor vibrates beneath every beat, lights strobe in sync with the music, bodies move like waves in the dark. The scent of cologne, sweat, and something sweet hangs in the air, overwhelming your senses.

Wanda’s hand remains firm against your lower back—if anything, she draws you closer as the crowd presses in, her fingers digging slightly into your hip to tether you to her. The gesture is subtle but grounding, and you lean into it instinctively.

You scan the room for any glimpse of your friends, hoping to find them sooner rather than later. Before you’re forced to look too hard, Wanda’s hand slides from your back to your elbow, down to your fingers. She links them with her own, wordlessly tugging you along. You bite your lip and take a deep breath, letting yourself be led—the comfort of her touch melting away whatever nerves still clung to your spine.

She cuts a path through the crowd with easy confidence, ducking past clusters of dancers and half drunk patrons until you reach a table tucked away in the back right corner of the club. You find Nat, Maria, Lilia, and of course, at the center of it all, Jen. The second she spots the two of you she’s smirking at the rest of the group, giving you a look you don’t have the energy to analyze.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” she announces, voice rising above the music.

You roll your eyes at her theatrics, lips twitching into a grin despite yourself. There’s always been something infectious about Jen’s energy—brash and bright and impossible to ignore.

Wanda squeezes your hand gently, her smile lazy as she steadily remarks, “My fault. I held her up in the parking lot.”

You groan internally. You can already see where this is going.

Jen’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. She leans forward, practically vibrating with delight. “Oh, I’m sure you did,” she says, the innuendo barely veiled.

Wanda lets out a soft, playful sigh. “Grow up, Jen.”

“Yeah. Grow up, Jen.” You piggyback off the Sokovian, further leaning into her touch. You start to relax, feeling more comfortable as she takes the lead.

The beauty guru raises her eyebrows, amused by your obedient echo. Wanda’s gaze dips toward you, eyes twinkling with approval as she rubs a teasing thumb along the sliver of exposed skin between your skirt and top.

Already a little tipsy and with eyes full of mischief and fondness, Jen reaches out, pulling you into a warm, slightly sweaty hug that smells of vodka and expensive perfume.

“By the way, you look hot. Like, ‘step-on-me’ hot. You’re welcome.”

You laugh, shaking your head, though you don’t deny the compliment. The rest of the group is scattered around the table, drinks already flowing, bodies swaying subtly to the beat. Everyone’s happy to see you, and the energy is easy—effortless in a way that only true friendships are. There’s no pressure, no need to perform. Just warm, familiar faces and the low thrum of alcohol softening the edges of the world.

You say your hellos to the rest of the group, slipping into the circle of chairs with Wanda never too far from your side. The night hums along with easy laughter and clinking glasses—a couple of rounds come and go, conversation flowing smoother with each sip. You're more relaxed than you expected to be—maybe it's the drinks, maybe it's the way Wanda keeps drifting just close enough to brush against your arm. At some point, your third (maybe fourth?) glass is empty, and before you can register the lull, Wanda glances over and offers to get you a refill.

She leans in, her breath warm against your ear, “What do you want, dorogoy?”

The way she says it—low, intimate, affectionate—makes your stomach flutter. You turn toward her, lips twitching into a playful smile.

“Surprise me?” you murmur, a little bolder now.

You hadn’t meant for it to sound suggestive—but the second it leaves your lips, you know it did. Wanda’s eyes darken immediately, her attention narrowing in on the place where you’d bitten your lip just a moment ago.

“Gladly, detka,” she purrs, voice smooth and languid like dripping honey. “You just sit there and look pretty, okay?”

It’s not a question. You nod without even realizing it, absentmindedly staring after her.

Someone clears their throat. Loudly. You blink and glance up, suddenly aware that every single pair of eyes at the table is trained on you. Some are smug, some are affectionate, but all are supportive. You duck your head in response, feeling embarrassed for seemingly getting caught.

Jen, unsurprisingly, is the first to speak. “Wow. You are down bad.”

Nat snorts beside her, “Can’t blame you though. Maximoff might be in even worse shape than you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try to deny.

They all look at you incredulously, not bothering to entertain the lie with any sort of acknowledgment. Before Jen can open her mouth with another taunt, you beat her to it.

“Okay, but how is everyone? It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you guys.”

She wants to push, but your genuineness is unmistakable and they know that while it's a diversion, you are truly curious about how they’ve been.

Jen rolls her eyes but softens, telling you about work and her frustratingly perfect relationship with a European male model. You nod along, chiming in and asking questions at all the right times.

Maria slips away to help Wanda at the bar, and Nat joins the conversation, launching into an animated rant about her gym and the unrelenting cloud of testosterone that hangs around the place. Lilia remains mostly quiet, content to observe, her eyes speaking louder than words.

Soon, Wanda and Maria return with overflowing cups, handing them out and matching them to their rightful owners. The Sokovian takes her place next to you, close but comfortable.

She slides a vibrantly colored drink towards you, “For you, printsessa.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, but gratefully accept the cup, “What is it?”

Her lips curl around her glass, “You said to surprise you, detka. It’s a surprise.”

She tips her head toward you, her eyes practically daring you to try it. You oblige, taking a generous sip under her unrelenting gaze. The drink is fruity, with just enough bite to make it interesting. As soon as you’re done, her eyes are on your lips.

“How is it?” Her eyes flick up to yours, smug but heated.

“Sweet,” you tease back.

She leans in, lips a breath from yours. “Not as sweet as you, I’m sure,” she repeats from earlier.

You feel a small flicker of courage as everything around you seems to fade away. You ignore all of your doubts and latch on as tight as you can.

“Why don’t you find out?” Now it’s you watching her, gaze drawn to the curve of her smile.

Wanda doesn’t waste a second. Her mouth claims yours like she’s been waiting forever, her lips soft but sure. When her tongue traces along the seam of your mouth to get a better taste, you open without thinking, letting her in. You try to muffle the whimper that escapes your throat, but she hears it—feels it—and you know from the way her smirk presses against your skin that she loves it.

You’re both panting when she breaks away, licking her lips and breathing into you, “I was right. You’re even sweeter than I thought.”

That’s about as much of a pause she gives before diving back in, devouring you more intensely than before. Her hands move to your face, rings cool against your cheeks, fingers threading into your hair. You lean into the contact; nearly forgetting where you are, who’s around, or what came before her.

Then—

A loud noise. Sharp, direct. Suddenly, you’re being yanked away.

“What the fuck?” You gasp, spinning to find Jen gripping your arm with a look that immediately sobers you.

You know that look.

“What? What’s wrong?” Your voice wavers.

“Don’t freak out,” Jen says carefully, too carefully.

Nat’s voice cuts through next, low and laced with warning, “Oh hell no.”

Wanda’s hand slips into yours again, grounding you, trying to help even though she’s clearly confused.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” You panic.

Before anyone can explain, you hear a voice you would know anywhere—a voice you could pick out of any crowd.

“Y/N?”

They’re still a distance away, but you can tell they’re moving in your direction.

All the breath leaves your lungs at once and you feel the color drain from your face. “Oh my god.”

Wanda gently tilts your chin towards her, trying to grab your attention. “Hey.”

“Y/N, it’s okay. We’ll just tell her to go away,” Jen offers, though her voice lacks confidence.

Maria scoffs, “Yeah, because she’s a great listener.”

Wanda’s brows are furrowed, Lilia looks like she’s sending up a prayer, Maria’s eyes are practically falling out with how hard she’s rolling them, and Nat’s gripping her glass so tightly it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered.

As soon as you’re able to open your mouth and attempt to form any kind of response, you’re cut off, and this time, the voice is much closer.

“Y/N. Baby.”

You shudder and somehow find the courage to look up, seeing Agatha Harkness standing not five feet away from you.

And just like that, your entire world tilts.

Time stops—or at least it feels that way. The chaos of the club melts into a distant hum, swallowed by the thunder of your own heartbeat in your ears.

Agatha. She’s just as devastatingly beautiful as ever, maybe even more so now that she’s been carved from absence. Her hair is long, curling in untamed waves that spill over her shoulders like ink. Her eyes—those impossibly blue, soul-splitting eyes—lock onto yours the instant you look over, as if she’s been holding her breath, waiting for this exact moment.

She’s dressed like a dream you’ve tried to forget—tailored pants that hug her hips, a low-cut blouse in midnight silk that reveals just enough to make your mouth dry, and heels that click with too much confidence for someone who should not be here. You meet her eyes for the first time in two years, and it’s as if no time has passed at all.

Surprisingly, Wanda is the first to speak up.

“Baby?” she repeats, her voice firm but questioning, a single eyebrow arching as she throws a glance your way. She doesn’t know who this woman is, but from the tension buzzing through the air like a livewire, she assumes she isn’t welcome.

Agatha’s gaze finally tears itself away from your face, whipping to where Wanda sits beside you. Shifting with something sharp, she sizes her up, jaw tightening with challenge.

“Yes. And you are?” The words are dipped in acid, thrown like daggers made specifically for the Sokovian. There’s no mistaking the bite, the way her tone seems to curl around jealousy and disdain. Agatha might not know who Wanda is, but she sees her. She sees her hand on your knee. Her lipstick on your mouth. Her presence next to you, filling the space that once belonged to Agatha.

To her credit, Wanda doesn’t flinch. She lifts her chin slightly, her expression unreadable except for the coolness in her eyes. It’s as if she’s weighing the woman in front of her—measuring her—and not finding anything particularly impressive.

She opens her mouth to respond, but Agatha cuts her off with an icy smirk.

“Oh no, sweetheart, I don’t actually give a shit.” Her lips curve upward, but her eyes—those eyes—betray the truth. They scream. They’re stormy and desperate and furious that someone else has touched what’s hers.

Her attention immediately returns to you like it never left, taking you in with a passion that steals the breath from your lungs. It’s the same way she used to drink you in—like you were her favorite sin—but now it’s hungrier. More frantic. Her eyes devour you like she’s been starved. She rushes to get her first fix of you in what has been far too long for her liking.

“Agatha,” you exhale, voice careful. You say her name like it’s just a word, like it doesn’t still echo through the hollow parts of you.

“Angel,” she breathes in return, the word breaking apart at the edges. It comes out raw and unguarded, like it has physically hurt her to be away from you all this time.

Even with music blaring, the silence that follows is deafening. It stretches on for too long, too tight, until it’s nearly suffocating. Agatha doesn’t seem to mind. She’s always thrived in tension, lived in chaos. And tonight, she’s in her element—content to stand in the middle of the storm as long as your eyes are on her.

“Can we go somewhere? To talk?” Her voice is quieter now, softer, but still firm. Still that same sultry, low tone that once consumed you so fully you forgot where she ended and you began.

There’s something beneath her request—a fracture, an edge of vulnerability that remains hidden from everyone but you. She stands tall, but you hear the tremble beneath the surface.

Nat’s voice slices through the moment like a blade. “She’s good. You, on the other hand, should definitely go.”

Agatha raises her eyebrow in sharp amusement, barely peeling her eyes away to glance at the redhead with a look teetering between condescension and beguilement.

“Natasha.” She dryly acknowledges, spitting out her name like a punch disguised as a greeting.

Nat’s jaw tics. Her hands are clenched. You’re pretty sure she’s moments away from launching herself across the table.

Jen, trying to salvage some kind of order, steps in with her usual exasperated flair. “Alright, everyone! We’re all adults here. Let’s act like it, yeah?”

“Act like it?” Nat snaps, eyes wide with disbelief. “What, so all of a sudden you’re on her side? What the fuck, Jen?”

“I’ve made it very clear, I’m on nobody’s side,” Jen says, raising her hands like a referee in a ring. “I just want to enjoy the night, so maybe if we just—”

“Fuck no!” Nat shouts, slamming her hand on the table. She rises to her feet, eyes burning and voice taut with anger. “She needs to leave. Now.”

The entire table bristles with energy—everyone tense, everyone watching. Even Wanda’s eyes have sharpened. No one’s speaking, but their body language screams. Lilia watches like she’s already predicted ten ways this could go. Maria sips her drink with steeled silence. The music keeps pulsing behind it all, the rest of the club unaware of the landmine that’s gone off in the back corner.

True to form, Agatha hasn’t moved an inch. She stays rooted to where she is, with her focus laser-locked onto you. She’s composed, but her stillness is a lie. You can feel the heat of her restraint—thick and searing—radiating off of her in waves.

You can feel her. That pull. The gravitational ache that’s always existed between you.

You take a deep breath and slowly stand, knowing this is your situation to sort out. You ignore the flutter of Wanda’s concerned gaze and the way Nat watches you like she’s ready to pull you back if needed. You don’t say a word, you just rise and face her. All of her.

She wastes no time drinking in every new inch of your exposed skin now that nothing is hidden from her view. But the look in her eyes isn’t just hunger—it’s need. Desperate, sharp, unfiltered. It goes beyond desire. It’s as if something buried deep inside her can’t help but call out to you, like her soul knows yours and is reaching through the spaces between you. It’s as if you’ve always belonged to each other and always will.

In her stare lives every memory, every laugh, every regret, every late night, every whispered promise she let slip away. It lives in her eyes and it begs. There’s longing written in every line of her body, and it makes you ache in places you didn’t know were still tender.

On the surface, it’s easy. She doesn’t deserve your time. She shouldn’t get another chance. Whatever excuses she’s spinning in her mind are nothing but smoke and mirrors. You know better.

But deep down, in a place you’ve tried to lock away and forget—you never stopped wanting her. Even when she hurt you. Even when she made you feel like nothing. You still wanted her—still want her. And that’s the most dangerous truth of all.

So when you open your mouth, you decide to keep it simple. You’ll calmly, but firmly, tell her to leave you be, and then you’ll turn around and get on with your night like it never happened. Easy, simple plan. You know she’ll push, try to stir up everything you’ve buried, but you also know that if you don’t break, she’ll have to let it go. You clear your throat, steeling yourself for what’s to come.

“I think that it’s—”

You don’t get the chance to finish.

“Agatha? Where the hell did you go?”

A new voice slices through the tension like a razor. Your stomach plummets. Your blood runs cold.

She turns slightly, just enough to confirm your fear.

Rio Vidal. Agatha’s co-worker—and more importantly, her ex-girlfriend.

Who just so happens to be the one person you can’t stand more than anybody else.

And in that moment, your heart shatters.

Every ounce of strength you’d managed to gather vanishes in an instant. Your breathing picks up. Your throat goes dry. And Agatha—god, Agatha flinches.

To everyone's surprise, you laugh. But it’s not light or airy—it’s broken. Jagged, like something torn loose under too much pressure. It scrapes out of you like it hurts, spilling into the air with a kind of devastation that silences the entire group.

“Oh, this is perfect.”

Agatha reaches for you, voice desperate, raw. “Y/N—”

“No, no! This is good. This makes sense.” Every part of you is trembling, like your body no longer knows how to hold itself together. You’re crumbling in front of everyone, and Agatha’s heart is breaking.

“Baby, no, it’s not what you think-”

“Do not call me that and do not say that to me!” you explode, the words ripped from your chest. “How can you look me in my face and say that to me, Agatha? After everything?”

And then Rio, in all her obliviousness—or maybe arrogance—steps forward.

“Look, sweetheart,” she says, crossing her arms like she’s doing you a favor. “You need to chill out. Take a fucking breath, okay?”

Agatha snaps her head just enough to growl, “Shut the fuck up, Rio.”

The older woman attempts to reach for you again, but your body moves before your mind catches up—pulling away fast, hitting the edge of the table in the process.

Nat immediately grabs onto your shoulder, her grip firm and steadying. She’s close, and for a moment, you find relief in her presence.

All at once, you start to regret every drink you’ve had that night as your stomach churns violently. Your chest rises and falls in uneven breaths as you manage to say, “I—I think I need to go.”

“What? No, don’t let her ruin your night, Y/N.” The Russian's voice is sharp, but you can hear the worry beneath it. Still, you can’t shake the overwhelming urge to escape.

You jerkily lean in, close enough that your words are a soft, urgent murmur against her ear. “No, I really don't feel good, Nat. I think—I think I'm going to be sick.”

Her expression changes instantly—eyes widening in alarm as she sees the color drain from your face. Without a word, she grabs your arm, pulling you into her with an easy strength. The chaos around you fades into the background as she moves, her steps quick and purposeful. She ignores the questions and protests thrown behind you, the buzz of rising voices all drowned out by the sound of your own pounding heart.

“Y/N, wait!” Agatha calls out, her voice strained between panic and guilt.

“Dorogoy, are you alright?” Wanda asks, her tone tight with unanswered concern.

You stumble slightly, but Nat holds you close—her pace unwavering as she leads you through the mass of people, weaving around obstacles like she’s done it a hundred times before. When you catch sight of the bathroom, you groan into her chest, the sight of a line of people making your stomach twist tighter.

The redhead seems to sense your frustration before you even say anything. She steps forward without hesitation, voice ringing out as she yells about some kind of emergency. Her words hit the air like a command, and before anyone can react, she shoulders her way through the group, moving with practiced ease. She doesn’t stop until she’s right in front of the door, slipping in just as someone leaves, locking it behind her with a soft click.

You don’t have time to thank her before you’re doubled over on your knees, emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. In the midst of everything, Nat’s hands are there—gentle but unyielding. She pulls your hair back, gathering it in a makeshift ponytail with a practiced touch, holding it away from your face as you heave.

When the worst of it finally passes, your body feels drained, like there’s nothing left. You slump back against the cool bathroom wall, your eyes closing as you try to steady your breathing. The pounding in your head subsides slowly, but you still feel off balance, like you’re drifting outside your body.

After a moment, you peek up at the redhead, finding her staring down at you with a mix of concern and something softer. You take a long, shuddering breath, trying to gather your scattered thoughts.

In the end, all you can seem to come up with is an exasperated, “What the fuck?”

The woman across from you huffs out a bittersweet laugh, but before she can even consider a response, there’s a knock at the door—light, but insistent.

“Y/N? You okay in there?”

It’s Wanda, voice laced with worry—but it's not just the words that have you sitting up straight. It’s the way they buckle, like they’re strained at the edges.

You exchange a glance with Nat, and without speaking, she stands, taking a step toward the door. Just as she reaches for the handle, another voice cuts through—this time, low and dangerous.

"Why don’t you take a step back, sweetheart? Let the grown ups handle this."

It’s Agatha. Because of course it is.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Byrd: I don’t get it, why can’t he just go there n’ join em? Wren: It’s not fucking checkers. Byrd: Psh, whatever.. I’m going to bed. Wren: Niiiight bird brain. Wren: He goes to bed earlier than a grandma, I swear to-.. awh, what’s the matter? Levi: I’m concentratiNG. Wren: Too little too late, numbnuts-.. suck it. Levi: Rematch? Wren: You said the best of three hours ago, it’d be easier to admit defeat at this point. Levi: [sighs] I’m incapable.

[lipglossanon]

Little Whispers

Prince!Chris Redfield x Lady-In-Waiting!reader (one shot)

Takes place in the Fairy Tale AU, A Dozen Roses

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, power dynamics, flirting, kissing, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✌️

“Brother, am I to believe you did not come away with a bride?”

You hide your smile, helping your lady pin her long fiery hair into place. Prince Redfield snorts and crosses his arms. 

“You are correct, dear sister,” he glares at her through her looking glass, brown eyes locking onto her blue ones, “she seemed to be spoken for.”

“By whom?”

He shifts uneasily, dropping his hands as he runs one through his messy brown hair. 

“I cannot say only that it seemed to be more of a social call,” he answers cagily.

His gaze flickers around the room until he meets yours, making you quickly drop your eyes back down to the Princess. 

“Did you hire yourself a new lass?” He asks humorously. 

“If you must know, Lord Burnside sent her from his estate,” Princess Claire huffs out, letting you place the last pin in her hair before standing up, “she is to stay with me and be my lady-in-waiting.”

Prince Chris nods, “Welcome to our home.”

You curtsy and bow your head, “Thank you, my lord.”

When you stand up straight, his brown eyes are staring at you, lips lifted in a grin. Attention shifting to his sister, he offers her a lazy salute. 

“I shall see you at dinner later. I’m taking the dogs out hunting,” he turns back to you, sending you a wink, “my lady.”

As he slips out the door, the Princess rolls her eyes. 

“Pay him no mind, he’s but an oaf,” she brushes her skirts down, “now, let us join the other ladies.”

After an extremely long, and quite boring, social call with the other ladies in the castle, the kitchen boy enters to announce supper is ready. Falling in step behind your mistress, you follow her into the grand dining hall where other lords and ladies have gathered. 

“Chris told me he asked these cretins to leave,” she whispers to you angrily, “they only sup at our table to try and garner his attention.”

You hum and nod, “Maybe he wishes to keep an eye on them, my lady?”

She frowns and lets you help her into her seat near the head of the table, catching the Prince’s attention. 

“And what gossip are you two lasses whispering about?” His brown eyes shift between you two, a smile playing across his lips. 

“Just that you have poor taste in company,” the Princess sniffs haughtily, “how goes the hunt?”

Prince Redfield laughs, voice loud and boisterous, “If not for my company, you would not have a little lord of your own would you, dear sister?”

His amusement turns to you, “What say you, lady?”

“It is not my place to judge, my lord,” you bow, stepping back from Princess Claire’s seat to stand with the other servants. 

“Aye, tis good you know your place,” he chuckles a little lower and it makes your body feel warm. 

As they dig into the feast before them, you sneak glances of the Prince. He’s tall and broad, his dark hair and brown eyes striking with his bearded face. A small scar cuts across his eyebrow, but it only enhances his looks. He catches you staring once and grins rakishly making you drops your eyes, shyness creating a warmth in your body. 

After dinner is finished, various manservants move the tables out of the way for that evening’s entertainment. The Prince and Princess welcome the band of musicians and dancers, sitting atop their thrones to oversee all. Being beckoned by your lady, she sends you off to prepare her rooms with the other maids so you may learn the routine. 

Once her chambers have been made ready, you bid the others goodnight and walk along the corridor to wait upon the Princess once more. A large shadow moves away from an alcove and you gasp, clutching the neck of your gown. 

“Didn’t mean to frighten you,” Prince Chris steps further into the light given from the sconces on the wall. 

“Apologies, Prince,” you quickly curtsy, “I am not used to the castle just yet.”

“How does it fair to Lord Burnside’s?” He steps closer, slowly corralling you into another alcove— unseen from prying eyes. 

“Oh it is much more impressive, my lord,” you smile, “such an honor to be here and serve his beloved Princess.”

“An honor?”

He hums and draws closer to you until you step away to keep some distance only for your back to press against cold stone.  Heat pools low in your stomach, knowing exactly what kind of intimate position this places you in with the Prince. 

“Is it an honor to serve me? Tis my castle you live in now,” he murmurs, hand brushing across your cheek to trace your jaw and down your neck. 

“O-of course, my lord.”

Shivering, you wet your lips, hands falling to your side. You won’t deny that you have thought the Prince a handsome man from the times he and his sister have visited Lord Burnside. You never dreamt you would catch his eye in such a way; it’s thrilling and illicit, arousal pulsing through your body. 

He braces a forearm against the wall next to your head, his other hand gripping your waist before trailing down your hip. Gasp hitching in your chest, your eyes flutter as he pets down your gown and begins to pull it up your legs. With a warm hum, he slips a hand under your skirts to cup your leaking sex. 

“Such a wet mess betwixt your legs, my pretty lass,” he coos in your ear, thick fingers petting across your clit before spreading your lips to tease against your dripping hole, “are you going to let your lord have a taste?”

“Whatever you wish,” you whimper, nipples tightening as he laughs and kneels down at your feet.

“Lift these skirts,” he directs, hands sliding up your calves to grip your thighs. 

A soft gasp falls from your mouth as you grab the bottom of your gown and drag it up, baring your lower body to Prince Redfield. With a wicked grin, he kisses your mound. 

“Think I’ll eat this fat cunt,” he noses at your clit, tongue parting your lips, “don’t be too loud.”

With those words ringing in your ears, the Prince laps at your hole, tongue spearing into your cunt with eagerness. Your fingers grip your skirts so tightly your knuckles hurt. Biting your lip, you keen in your throat as the Prince grinds his face up into your wet heat. His beard scratches at your sensitive skin and increases the pleasure to the point of pain. 

“Oh,” a soft whispering moan escapes your mouth when Prince Redfield flattens his tongue and drags it up to your swollen bundle of nerves. 

His tongue flutters wildly, lapping at your pudgy bud until your hips rock into his mouth. With a low chuckle, he slips his middle and ring finger into your leaking hole. 

“Such a dirty whore,” he pulls back and spits on your cunt, “letting me ruin you like this. What would your mistress think?”

Whimpering, you clench your eyes shut, trying to hold back any noise. Your body burns hot like an ember as the Prince laughs and goes back to licking and kissing your dripping cunt. Pleasure overrides your senses, the only thing you’re aware of is the mouth latched to the apex of your thighs; of the stillness in the empty corridor of the castle; of the utter mess leaking down your legs and dripping onto the stone floor. 

The Prince pulls away, his brown eyes nearly black in the torchlight, “Shall I use my cock so that we both feel good?”

“We shouldn’t,” you whimper while he stands up to his full height, hands undoing the lacing on his trousers. 

He pulls his stiff cock free and your lips part with a sigh. He’s thick and long, swollen tip dripping with seed as he strokes the length. With a low laugh, he presses you against the wall harder, hand gripping the base of his cock and dragging it against your soft folds. 

Whimpering softly, you cover your mouth while he taps the head against your swollen bundle before parting your cunt to dip into your hole.

“Shall I take you as a husband takes a wife?” He rumbles, dragging his cock back up to rub and bump against your clit, “shall I fill you with my royal seed til you’re dripping and staining the floor?”

You know you should say no, should beg his forgiveness and deny him any claim to your body. But you’ve only had a few fumbles in the hay with men no more knowledgeable than boys. Price Redfield is offering you a chance to experience something you’ve only dreamt about. 

Nodding, you dare not move your hands away from your mouth. He smiles crookedly and notches his cock at your entrance. 

“Good girl,” he whispers as he slowly presses inside your wet heat.

Your eyes roll back as he presses deeper and deeper inside your body, cunt sucking him in eagerly, inner walls fluttering and pulsing around his thick cock. 

“Greedy girl,” he rasps against your ear once he bottoms out, balls lightly smacking against your skin. 

He pulls out halfway before sinking back in to the hilt, your chest heaving in silence. 

“How does it feel?” He drops one hand away from the wall to ghost across your swollen bud, “how does a Prince’s cock feel in your fat cunt?” 

You gasp weakly, hands falling away from your mouth to scratch at his broad shoulders. He chuckles and dips down to kiss you, beard rough against your cheeks as his tongue delves into your mouth much how he ate your cunt earlier. 

He pulls away with a wet kiss, “Answer me, lass.”

Your mind feels like an empty pool of pleasure, body singing with it as he thrusts his cock into your squelching hole. 

“It feels good, my lord,” you mewl quietly, eyes fluttering as he rubs your clit in slow circles, “it feels so good.”

He groans and grasps your thighs, dragging your back up the wall and hoisting you higher. His next thrust makes you cry out shamelessly as his cock fills you completely, hole stretching to take all of him at a new angle. 

“That’s it, pretty maid,” he grunts in your ear, “scream for me. Let everyone know the Prince is fucking your soft wet cunt where anyone can see.”

Your blood feels like it’s on fire, the pressure and pleasure builds in your core until you teeter over an edge you’ve only heard whispers of between the other maids. 

“Aye,” he laughs, brown eyes crinkling with warmth, “you’ll gift me with your sweet slick as I in turn give you my seed.”

You gasp and he bites your bottom lip. 

He whispers against your mouth, “Let me ruin you, my pretty lass.”

His fingers thrum across your swollen bud at the same time he bottoms out inside your cunt and it snaps the tension coiled inside your body.  With another low cry, your nails dig into his shoulders as your cunt bears down on his cock, inner walls milking him for his royal seed. He groans, hips flexing as he grips you tightly, thrusting hard and fast to chase his own end. 

Leaning forward, he sinks his teeth into the skin where your neck and shoulder meet as he pumps your cunt full of his spend. You moan weakly, feeling the sticky heat of his cum breeding your hole until it spills out to drip down your thighs. He pulls away with a grunt, more of his spend spattering onto the floor as your used cunt throbs. 

“Your mistress will not miss you for one night,” his blown out gaze slowly moves from your swollen cunt up to your hazy eyes, “shall I show you my quarters?”

With your nod, he gently places you back down onto your feet and drops your gown to cover the mess he made of your cunt. He presses a quick kiss to your temple and grasps your wrist. 

“Then follow me, my pretty lass.”

[skobbeloff]

very rough and messy summary of the six the kids musical brainstorm first draft thing:

I think people liked the idea so here's the summary of what I came up with...

all of em – “Heavy Crown”

there is a sorta who lives who dies who tells your story vibe... it starts the musical i wanna establish that this musical is about succession and power.

OH!! this is how we connect the story. the crown drops cuz its heavy, it falls on ed, then mary, but it’s to heavy so at the end of their songs, the crown drops down, then finally liz. the crown falls on liz at the last part of her song (since her song starts w her as a child instead of crowned) and she puts the crown onto herself. (we're stopping there cuz of time concerns aka i got too lazy to read the wikipedia for what happens after liz)

//ah how do i… include the religious/political nuiances? //politics not my thing moment...

“Who will be next?” or “next in line” ig

just a small contextualising song (not even really a song). its giving that. "where will she strike next?" from wicked kinda vibe

henry dies! oh no! anyway…

establish liz and mary as illegitimate 

Edward VI – "King Before Dawn"

like a lullaby?? i was kinda thinking of bastille...? Idk but i guess i am also kinda going for the soft vibe yk. He's a bit inspired by rudolf from Elisabeth.

AURORA runaway, When the party's over, or

i feel like the climax would be like this waking moment for him? cuz all this time he’s been in a dream, but its not bc he doesn't want change, like he’s trying, but its like they’re forcing him to sleep or something. the original title was “sleep, little king”, so i mean… he's just a kid, so his wants and visions are only regardes as dreams

motif thing: i want the kids to like, learn from their mothers, and jane says "i hope my son will know he'll never be alone" and "my love is set in stone", so, i think… something like "in my dream, I'm not alone, love carries me on the throne, but then i wake and then it falls away"... I'm not using "heart of stone" cuz it goes against ed's airy dreamy vibe (yk.. cuz stone...)

"i close my eyes, so i could be, king for one more day"? "before dawn"?? i unno.

This would reflect Edward’s child-like ambitions and dreams of reform, but also his helplessness due to his age and the weight of expectations (i see him sorta like a puppet king, yk? cuz his reign is ran by council)

Thats why I imagine a dream-like setting. cuz during his rule he was “asleep”.

Lady Jane Grey - "Nine Days" (should we even include her)

ed: i need someone to take care of england like i wish i had (lists a bunch of characteristics as liz and mary kinda do this like.. comedic pushing each other and posing thing) it will be… Jane grey! (jane snuck onto the stage and the light suddenly shines on her and shes awkwardly standing there just: :) hiiii 

mary and liz: ??

Jane never wanted the crown but was executed so… it’s pretty tragic. but i want to give her a light number! to lighten the mood a bit!! Also because everyone else who git beheaded had a lit number haha we're keeping the trend!!

since she’s called the "Nine Days Queen", what if… her song is in a count down format? and it gets faster? Yes I took inspo from 10 rule commandments.

towards the end she screams "Have mercy upon me, O God"

“Third Succession Act”

or a next in line reprise... it's a lot darker tho. Mary and Liz ride in on. "horseback" and instantly you get this vibe like "o something is about to go down..."

i just want like chanting but it’s still a short interlude. 

there’s a darker turn to prep for mary’s song? i was thinking a bit of like the starting chant of "the plagues" from prince of egypt.

wikipedia says: “Mary rode triumphantly into London on 3 August, on a wave of popular support. She was accompanied by her half-sister Elizabeth and a procession of over 800 nobles and gentlemen.”

Mary: wonderful. take Jane out of here, please.

Mary I – “To ashes”

as in she will stand strong until she is ashes, but also burning the heretics to ashes.

when i first started my mind went: LADY GAGA!! but i actually... want her to have a much more serious and solemn kinda vibe, so...

its like… p heavy and intense in terms of beat like im imagining some iron clanging but also seriously good choir.  dark, dramatic, grand... im thinking a lot about like... olim from the hunchback of notredame (the disney musical one).

I pull out a dark edit audios playlist... nah, but ummm Everybody Wants to Rule the World (Lorde Cover), You Should See Me in a Crown, Castle by Halsey? but with heavy choir backing...? Or like The Seed by AURORA? or a few of the Soap&Skin songs.

other titles ive considered are: “By My Own Hand/ For Her Own Good” (her refering to england). yk i want her song to be more from her perspective, to show her motivation instead of just "bro's a serious arsonist".

motif thing: i will make my way (instead of no no no no no no no way)

i don’t know i just think it suits her

bloody mary frfr she gon be big scary lady muahahaha

“Heavy crown reprise”

A transition number showing Mary’s downfall, and the crown slipping again. Could be a ghostly echo of the opening song; mary is up bathed in red light and then thud! the light turns like this light and beige in a small jail bar square shape onto liz who is kneeling in white (getting out from imprisonment and starting small)

Elizabeth I – "For good(? glory??), Alone"

get it? the song name is like “for good alone” but also “for good, (i am) alone”

her inspo was originally kate bush, Chappell Roan, and marina. However, after doodling her I wanted to give her a much more reserved personality. I imagine liz with this mixture of ham burr and ham eliza where she is quiet until she is sure. I know a lot of people give her a much more light and loud personality but idk if i see that...

i feel like it starts small then slowly builds to become grand or something. I guess I kinda take Aurora as a reference for her...?

towards the end of the song, in the background i wanna add a choir going “gloriana”

could have a speaking segment (like in teach them how to say goodbye) cuz she got some pretty fire quotes

Motif thing: "Just not to lose my head"

from Anne Boleyn’s "Don’t Lose Your Head," representing like… a constant balancing act of power, survival, and public image; taking charge without falling into the traps her mother did.

keeping her head (literally and metaphorically) could also tie into the calculated patience???

touch on how she carefully navigated political waters and worked to build England's glory, all while dealing with personal and political challenges that could have caused her downfall at any moment

quotes to use? I will have no master; i saw and i kept silent

Closing? like… something like.. like “Still she remains”

I was gonna end with liz so the first ideas were “Gloriana”, "No King But Me”, “Still I Stand". But then six ends with all queens, so I'm prolly gonna do that (not really including jane, tho); see i would say “England remains” but yk… ireland was there too, so…

“A throne of my own” would be cool, but i want this to end outwards, as in this was the past, but now look at the present and future.

“still she remains” could start with referring to liz, then to england (and ireland).

The last lines could hint that even Elizabeth’s reign will pass, and England will continue, liz holds out the crown and the lights narrow on the crown, not on any one person.

liz drops the crown down (as how it had dropped on ed, then to mary, then to liz). Her legacy. what is a legacy? It's dropping crowns for queens who you don't get to meet-- /j

//idk are these all to heavy? probably. where’s my pop girlies :( //i don't know if anyone would get me if i said... they're burn blister and blaze coded...

I hope this was fun :P

[lover-of-mine]

I'm not your Lady Whistledown, but the Oliver stuff started very subtly following the joint interview. I think reality hit a few of them following that. They built it up as this big springboard for the ship and when it didn't go that way the, there were no more interviews, or promo for the pair from the show, anger at Oliver started to creep in. It was subtle until Lou closed his cameo, but once they lost their direct contact with him, lots of them blamed Oliver. They believe the show forced him to shut it down. And many believe Oliver had something to do with that. It didn't help that immediately after he closed his cameo he also stopped interacting with or answering their questions on Twitter. And of course Oliver started blocking people as well. There are lots of them who are also freaking out over the SWAT stuff because he's clearly going back to that show, in some capacity, and they don't know what that will mean for his availability as far as 911 goes.

Ryan's interviews aren't helping them either. He's kind of been systematically disproving each of their arguments with every interview he does. The Men's Health interview with Oliver, I think was just what finally broke some of them. He's not going to get on board with Tommy, whether the show gives him canon Buddie or not, he clearly isn't vested in or going to vest in B/T and I think that's getting harder and harder for them to pretend away. I think it's also becoming clear that Lou's enthusiasm for it has certainly dimmed as well, for whenever reason. They're not being fed anything to sustain them anymore because all of it was coming from Lou himself and once he stopped they didn't have anything else to cling too. So being mad at Oliver is all they have left because they're never going to blame or be angry at Lou. So now Oliver, Tim and even Ryan, because lots of them think Oliver would be fine with B/T if Ryan wasn't around, are to blame for everything. Their ship was never about Oliver or Buck. Once Lou made himself available to their fawning and played along with it, all while taking their money, it became a fandom about Lou. Buck was just the character paired with the actor they were fetishizing. Hopefully they follow him out the door.

wait, they are blaming Oliver for the cameos stopping? I mean, I keep joking if it came down to it the production is gonna do what keeps Oliver happy, but to say Oliver has that kind of pull is just a lazy excuse to hate him. Lou was creating a type of publicity that didn't line up with the route they were going. That's even if Lou was told to stop, we don't know that for sure, do we? Dude can just get tired of playing it up not that he got the exposure he could get and now it has run it's course. I have a little prayer circle for him to book something else and not come back, so if he's back in swat, you will hear me cheering, but seriously, the more I learn the more wtf i am. But it does make sense that they built the thing around the shiny new actor and now can't keep up because the part of the ship that actually matters doesn't care, that adds up. I kinda wanna scream tho, Ryan's interviews are because he's promoting a movie. The dude is not getting interviews because of 911, the fact that he can't shut up about buddie doesn't change the fact that he is not there to talk about them. And since the beginning, Oliver keeps talking about Buck being bisexual outside of Buck dating Tommy, and it's crazy to watch the fantasy crumble when there was never to back it up to begin with. Honestly, I do hope that when Tommy goes he takes that part of the fandom with him, because my god....

[thefcguy]

Thomas Astruc Newest Interview:

Thomas Astruc and Zag recently had an interview which they talked about things from season 6 specials and so on…

I am not 100% sure how official they are, so, don’t take this 100% seriously.

Spoilers below:

1- Vesperia isn’t forgotten by the writters.

They said that she hasn’t appeared in any posters yet because her model isn’t complete, and that she is important, and that the team does care about her…

(Wow, the team cares about Zoe/Vesperia? The girl that they added in season 4 and threw under the bus the moment they got rid of Queen Bee? The girl that didn’t even get a Kitty Noir transformation? The girl whose plot in Representation about getting a girlfriend that I forgot the name was deleted due to the runtime? Keep telling your lies, Astruc… keep telling your lies…).

(No, I don’t agree with the hate she gets. I like Zoe. But Astruc saying he cares about her, even after all he did is a bit… annoying to me).

2- The Japan Special is the next one:

They haven’t confirmed anything, but, since Zag said that Lady Tiger will be very important, cause she will be their first hero with cancer, and that we will meet her very soon, it’s very clear that this teasing indicates Japan special is next. And Rio Special is forgotten once again (wow, as a Brazillian, “thanks”, Thomas).

(I am also worried about how they will handle cancer, considering they didn’t even make what Rose’s sickness clear).

3- Samg won’t be returning:

Yeah, that’s it. Their lost work is the London Special. The artstyle will change, and they will try to keep the animating on France only due to the leaks.

4- Season 6 will be filled with hints that the audience will look with new eyes on Season 7:

They said that, once we start seeing season 7, out view on season 6 will change completely, and that these hints will be bombastic.

(right, they are “very good” with foreshadowing. And by “foreshadowing” I mean either blatant teasing for future events, or retcons).

5- They are considering a Live Action for Miraculous… again:

They said they still need to rethink and see if their budget can handle it… I hope not, it would be probably really bad with bad CGI.

6- Other Magical Creatures:

They said that there probably are other magical creatures besides kwamis and renlings out there.

(wow, we barely know 10% of the kwamis that exist, and they want to create more magical creature. I will just say I hate when people create more and more elements before flashing out their older ones. It’s lazy, it leaves many questions open and, summing up, just not nice).

7- The reason why Lila has become a villain and wants the miraculi was already revealed:

They said that they have already left enough hints to why Lila has become the new Hawk Moth, it’s just that we, the audience, didn’t pay enough attention to it.

(I wonder this time what will be the retcon. Lila is as old as Master Fu and is a rebel from the Order of Guardians? She is Manon from the future? Either way, I doubt it will be convincing. Except if it is that she is an orphan that wants her parents back).

8- Thomas Astruc already created many miraculous AUs:

Yeah, even the show’s own creator likes to make AUs about it. His favorite one is where Ladybug is similar to Sailor Moon and she leads her own super hero team. In this AU, there is also no romance.

(I wonder if any of his AUs are better than the canon he writes).

9- The Melody Movie I back on production I guess:

Zag explained about the movie synopsis, which is about a girl needing to learn how to trust herself with the power of music (yes, it’s pretty generic), and the main character will be voiced by Katy Perry.

10- Chloe will be back:

And no, she won’t be getting a redemption. Astruc said that they try to write their characters on a logical way, so that they are consistent. And, no matter how hard they try, they found no way of Chloe regretting her actions and be like “Oh, Marinette, I was so mean to you!”, so, it doesn’t matter what he wants, it’s Chloe’s fault she doesn’t want to get better…

(I am not even a Chloe stan and this angers me beyond relief. First, they try to write their characters with consistence. WHEN? ‘Kagami’s friendship with Lila, Felix’s redemption, the whole amok plot, anything related to Lila on season 5, the fact they changed why Marinette broke up with Luka, the concept of the bee’ are anything but consistent. And say that Chloe can’t get a redemption? There are many ways for a character to get a redemption. Amity and Hunter from Owl House, Peridot and Lapis from SU, Sasha from Amphibia, and Zuko from Avatar all got a redemption. If you guys don’t want to give her a redemption, fine, but don’t try this whole “she can’t”, she is a character! And you guys are writing her!)

(Also, bringing Chloe back? I though you guys were trying to break the formula with the season 5’s wish, not go back to it).

11- The Story will change:

Not because of a reboot or anything, they just want to make it more serious and gradual.

(No comments here).

12- The Team has ideas for how 12 series of miraculous would be like:

They know for sure the 6, 7, 8 and 9 arc, and are also still unsure of what to do with the opening.

(12 seasons… when shows like Steven Universe gets 5, the Owl House gets 3, and many others get only 1).

13- Andre will get a redemption arc:

Thomas said that, unlike Chloe, he clearly wants to change, and the scene in Collution was a big character point for him. They also want to, someway, somehow, tell about his and Gabriel’s backstory someday.

14- Fun Facts:

The Supreme (the bad guy from Shadybug’s universe), will make a comeback at the series; Zoe’s crush at Marinette was due to love at first sight at the bakery (I think this is cute); the writers love Rolland because he was inspired by Thomas grandfather (and Simplifier is their favorite episode due to this fact); Akumatized!Marinette is a possibility; the writing for season 6 is at is peak, and a better version of season 5 (wonder which criminal boy will be redeemed and which girl won’t get the same treatment and be sent to live with her abusive parent).

15- The whole story we saw until now is only 5% of all he showed Zag when he pitched the show:

You heard that right, miraculous has still 95% of stories to give to us.

(I know that Superheroes usually have many arcs and stories they face, but that’s mostly because they are usually on comic format. I am not sure if it’s worth telling so many stories in a cartoon series).

Now, I leave to my miraculous mutuals @natedogx15 @nerd-chocolate and @artzychic27

to share their opinions. They might even change my mind for season 6.

[random-introverted-blog]

Shadows of Shar [F!Reader x Selunite!Shadowheart]

NOTE: THIS IS PART 3 and a half TO FLICKERS OF LOSS

Told you it existed

Previously - No More

Intended Audience: Mature [scroll the age requirement wheel until you come to a year where you can bypass the age check, we all know you do]

The Bit: You're learning to sleep again with the help of your patient, cleric lover. But can you learn to live again? Or are the shadows of your past too hungry to resist?

Warnings/Advisories: Implied SA, emotional abuse, torture via magical wounds, mental abuse, gaslighting?, cute but cringey pet name, tickles, a distinct lack of sandcastles (that's in the end half, which I am still working on)

Words, all the word (count): 3,553 baebeee

Dedicated to my bestest bestie who also made and provided and chose the gif - @ethelspetals

MINIMAL EDITING - WE FORGET AND DIE LIKE SHARRANS (ALWAYS - PRAISE OUR DARK GODDESS SHADOWHEART)

Finally delivering (half) of my promise in 3...2...1

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

Chains...

Chains and prayer. Prayer and chains. And ceaseless prodding. All at the hands of an obscene mockery of a god. Eyes remained closed, fixated on perfect, endless darkness. Finding the comfort of her Lady's embrace even on the knees of her failure.

No.

This was many things, but a failure it was not. It was a test. A sacred task bestowed upon her by the Lady of Loss. Even across the vast expanse of stars and time, her goddess would not tolerate derision.

Darkness is where she derives her faith. Darkness is where she thrives her soul.

And it would come. In time.

For now she would withstand the well lit room. She would reach out across the links that represented the bond to her pet, forever bound through the Dark Lady's blessed markings, etched into your flesh. Claimed as hers for eternity. Through them she could remain somewhat vigilant over you. Attempt to keep you from straying so far down those delusions the inferior version of her was poisoning you with.

Sure, you stumbled and struggled in your training... but you still excelled far beyond her expectations. In time, she was convinced you'd make a fine Dark Justiciar... And once she freed herself, well... it would only be a matter of time.

The Nightsinger had plans for both her, and you. And those plans were far from extinguished.

______________________________________________

Sunlight filtered in through the closed curtains, it's warmth on your skin denied by the covers you've been tucked into. It wasn't odd for you to wake up alone and she was trying not to coddle you so much, but that doesn't mean you have to like it. You had begun your ritual of smelling her side of the bed when the sound of the door closing has you perking up and looking down the bed toward it.

Shadowheart, with her hair plaited and already dressed, can't help but huff a small laugh when she sees you. "Just as I left you." She teases, swinging her arms a little as she crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, folding her hands on her lap. The twinkle in her eyes accompanied with her soft smile as she watches you makes your belly flutter.

With a curious tilt of her head, Shadowheart lifts her hand to tenderly brush her fingers against your hair. "Time to greet the day, lazy bones..." the words laden with honey. The showering of her affection has your eyes drift closed a moment. "I would let you sleep longer if I could, but we have company arriving soon." She hums, her perfect nails delicately graze your scalp in that way that turns you to putty for her. Even as she reminds you of the trouble, you caused her last night.

There's been an improvement. Some nights you fall asleep easily, but wake up with a lurch, muttering Sharran scripture until she coaxes your mind back to her. Other nights you toss and turn in her arms. The first time she thought it was because you felt... trapped. After all, she shares a face, voice and body with your former "mistress". So that night she encouraged you to sleep on your side of the bed uninhibited by her hands or arms. On your own.

You woke up in the middle of the night, on her lap in the middle of your shared bed. Throat raw and Shadowhearts arms squeezing you against her, pinning yours to your sides while she finessed her soft hands, radiant with divine magic, onto your right one, which burned and stung. Tears were drying on your face, but you couldn't remember why. Shadowheart's voice in your ear alternating between whispering and murmuring promises of love and safety. And you could feel a warm wetness under your fingernails on your left hand. It took too long for you to realize you had apparently clawed your right hand in your sleep. Possibly in an attempt to destroy the markings.

That was the last night she let you sleep without being tucked deep in her arms, the soft lullaby of her heartbeat in your ear and her fingers in your hair. To her credit, that hasn't happened since she's insisted on holding you every night.

But you were finding nights where you slept peacefully, visited by pleasant dreams or dreamless. They were becoming frequent enough you actually felt hopeful. Maybe, little by little, she would regain the confidence to let you sleep outside her protective arms again.

Wait, she mentioned company... what company? Your eyes peel open, reuniting with the tenderness and love in hers she's lavishing you with, and she must read the confusion. "Do you remember? My parents arranged to come by and see us," Shadowheart explains patiently, not once allowing her smile to completely falter.

A white cat that you recognize, Pawtato, hops onto the bed, nudging Shadowhearts arm up to demand attention from her. Lifting her hand from your hair. Apparently, the ridiculous name was your fault. "Come, don't be shy. You may only remember meeting them once, but they care about you almost as much as I do. You made quite the impression... That hasn't changed." She encourages with a knowing smile, pulling the covers off of you to reinforce that going back to sleep wasn't an option for you.

Still, you try. Curling into a ball and burying your face into her pillow. "Oh no, you don't..." Shadowheart warns. You feel her shifting up the bed, shuffling closer...

Then her fingers dig into your ribs, and you cry out in pained laughter. Your arms and legs flail. In a chaotic mess of movement, a playful battle erupts over your shared bed. "I'll tickle you right out of this bed if I have to!" Her laughs blending with your own.

You nod feebly, struggling to use words between gasps and cries, but fate is kind, and she mercifully ceases her assault. As the dust of your short-lived war settles, you realize the position you've inadvertently found yourselves in.

Shadowheart's knee sits between your thighs, effectively straddling your leg. Her hands smooth over your now exposed sides in gentle, soothing circles.

Her knee forces your legs open wider for her, dark hair framing her even darker eyes, "keep these open nice and wide for me, just like I've taught my good girl... you're my good girl, aren't you?"

A kiss. Just beneath your ear. That's all it takes, and you're back in her arms. "You're safe here..." Shadowheart murmurs in your ear, her fingertips drawing circles and hearts on your sides before she uses them to pull you into her. "And loved. So very loved." The gentle sincerity in her voice could almost bring you to tears as your arms slide around her back. Her warmth, the smell of her, how you melt into her embrace... it's intoxicating.

She tenses slightly, pulling her head back to give you a pointed, teasing glare. The tiniest of smirks giving her away.

Then you realize where your hands are. "Cheeky... Part of your scheme to keep us in bed, I presume?" Shadowheart's smirk grows as you blink stupidly at her. Your hands unmoving from her ass.

With a soft laugh that bubbles from her chest, she presses a tender, lingering kiss to your lips before slowly untangling from you. "I'll leave you to get yourself ready, then. They should be here within an hour or so." She smiles as she rises from the bed and departs the room. Pawtato hops onto your chest, and you briefly consider using him as your excuse but know you'd disappoint Shadowheart if you did.

You sigh and gently lift him off of you and at last roll out of bed. Before long, you are cleaned up, dressed, and presentable. You think you made good time when you start down the stairs.

...Until you smell fresh tea and hear the sound of chit chat from the kitchen. "There she is!" Her dad is the first to notice your arrival, rising from his seat at the table in what you recognize is an instinctive move to hug you.

But you tense. And you hate yourself for it.

Clearly, these people know you and care about you, but everything in you is still... jumbled. Confused. Your memories are still foggy at best, and what you do recall is Sharran training. And... obedience.

Let no one close, leave only room for The Blessed Nightsinger in your heart. And your ears pure for your mistress...

Despite everything in you that wants to let that go, it clings to you like moss to a wet rock. Some days, it feels inescapable, deeply ingrained into your very being. Shadowheart has told you before the key to shaking yourself free of those webs, those shackles... is to move forward, no matter how daunting it may feel.

So you do.

Your feet close the rest of the distance where he stopped to provide you space. And force yourself through the motions. Stiff as they may be, the moment you actually embrace the man, it floods back to you.

The last time in your memory you saw him was when you and Shadowheart emerged from the portal. He had been staying in the home and tending to it, and its inhabitants in your absence. And until now, that was all you knew of him and Emmeline. But now you see flashes of times they came over for visits with their beloved daughter, embraced you into their family like you had always been a part of it...

And as you separate from the embrace, it shatters. "Godsdamnit, now?" You barely hear her voice before it dies in your ears to the agony.

Intense, searing, almost all-consuming, your right hand glows deep violet up to your wrist. Strong enough, it buckles your knees, as if a firm hand was pushing you down onto them. Without any indication or clue you knew exactly why, you somehow still understood the reason. It couldn't prevent you from pursuing Shadowheart, though it had tried. But it could still interject with others.

This was punishment.

"By the hells, how can she be this petty?" Shadowheart's voice was barely audible in your ears as the pain persisted. Vaguely, you felt her arms around you.

As suddenly as it came, it vanishes. Leaving behind a faint throbbing ache in its place from your traumatized, trembling nerves. "I'm sorry..."

"Hush, you..." Shadowheart soothes, giving your body a reassuring squeeze in her arms. "I, of all people, understand exactly what you're going through. You have nothing to be sorry for." She continues, moving one hand to tuck some loose hair behind your ear.

Once you seem more composed, she pulls away and helps you to your feet. Guiding you to sit on a chair at the table. A cup of tea waiting for you, right next to hers. Shadowhearts hand clasps to your right under the table. You waste little time swirling the spoon around the rim of your little cup to distract your thoughts

Conversation passes easily after that. While you're more an observer than a participant and your love tries to include you where she can, it's still difficult and not just because you still only barely remember these people.

Every time they talk about Selûne, practicing her faith, visiting her temple, it makes your skin itch and you hate it. Almost every time they opened their mouths about it, you had to bite back a retort from all your time spent studying Sharran scripture, listening to Her teachings.

Selûne's light will penetrate the deepest darkness. Find courage to embrace the truths that lie beyond, for her illumination is a beacon of clarity.

Falsehoods to fattened cattle fit only to be slaughtered. In the Moonwitch's light lies temptation to embrace false hope and misguided paths. For in Shar's dominion, shadows are not deceitful, but honest companions, revealing stark truths that the Moonwitch's light seeks to obscure.

The Moonmaiden's light will guide the way.

Only the blind need guidance. For in Shar's endless dark, one only needs to abide and embrace her wisdom to find their way.

Incredibly, it was like Shadowheart could read your thoughts when this happened. Every time you felt yourself slip, she would give your hand a small squeeze and it would be enough to pull you back.

You weren't so naïve. The weight of the amulet hanging around your neck, a gift as direct from the Moonmaiden as it could be, was the only thing preventing Shar from dragging you back to Her. If your... mistress got free, and you didn't have the amulet... It's like this thing was helping keep your thoughts your own.

Though sometimes it didn't seem that way.

"Love?" she says softly beside you, pulling your attention from absently swirling your tea with your spoon. "I'd written to my parents about this already and they've agreed... Perhaps some time outside the cottage would accelerate your healing."

Your hand stills and catches the spoon before it can circle the rim of your cup. Though you're not entirely sure why, a sinking feeling nestles deep in your stomach, strong enough you wriggle your right hand free of hers to hold your tea with both hands. This isn't the first time she's suggested the idea and despite her desperate pleas with you to elaborate on why you reacted this way, you didn't answer.

Because you couldn't. You couldn't put it into words and you doubt you ever could.

Little pet, whatever do you think you're doing?

As best you can to stifle your reaction to the intrusive echoes of her words in your ear, you can't hide the slight twitch of your brow, your right hand squeezing the cup. No, you're not letting this happen here. Even Shadowheart is hardly aware of these moments where you hear... this. Urgings of your former mistress to be obedient. Behave. Faint reminders of her teaching.

Still aware of the subtle tingling in the back of your skull like a tangible presence in your mind. The moment you try to push it back and out, your hand flares again. Not for nearly as long, but enough that if the cup weren't on the table, you'd have dropped it.

Relieved when her voice doesn't return, having successfully shut it out. You're starting to worry her voice would haunt you for the rest of your life. How were you supposed to keep it from Shadowheart like this? "Where would we go?" You inquire shyly.

Your favorite cleric flashes you a warm smile. "A little trip down memory lane, nothing overly excessive or taxing." As she lifts her cup and sips from it.

"It really is no trouble." Arnell insists with a gesture of his hand. "Jen—Shadowheart believes getting out into the world would do you good, and I can hardly fault her reasoning."

Blinking awkwardly, and realizing you're outnumbered, you sigh and drop your shoulders. Shadowheart takes this as your silent surrender. Her hand settles on your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "I may have already packed some of our belongings for the journey... We can depart at first light." She says with an encouraging, gentle smile.

All of these blatant acts against Shar and your mistress, and you have yet to feel the sting of your marks, demanding your submission.

Has she finally turned her back on you? "I... I'm going to check on the barn." You sputter pathetically and shrug out from under your lover's gentle touch, scurrying toward the door of the cottage. You don't dare to turn around and face their confused, probably disappointed faces.

Are you nothing more than a constant source of disappointment now?

‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐

It was a very roundabout way of getting here. You'll give her that. You set your heavy pack of supplies next to hers. Her altered Justiciar armor gleamed in the bright sunlight in contrast to your dark leathers. Better to be safe than sorry, she insisted.

Your feet gently dipped into the soft, shifting sands of the beach. It looked cluttered with a variety of small debris, but otherwise it seemed like any ordinary beach.

But Shadowheart's gaze fixed on a spot in particular. Almost in the center. A smile touched her lips, her eyes distant... in a memory of her own, perhaps. "This is as close as we can get to the beginning." She says in an almost reverent way.

Though you try to ignore the awkwardness, it must still show in your face when her eyes meet yours. With a sigh, she takes your hand and leads you closer to this random spot in the sand.

Like she knows.

More than a little dazed from your own rude awakening, you hesitate over the unconscious cleric. Her dark hair framing her fair face, almost deceptively appearing... at rest. The strange dongle clutched in her hand.

Perhaps you should... gods, what should you do? She had been nothing but a valuable ally so far, but... this half-elf was not all she presented herself to be.

Against your better judgement, you bend down, gingerly rest your hands under the spikey pauldrons of her armor and give her a firm shake.

She stirs almost instantly, eyebrows furrowing until her gaze meets yours. "You're alive." She mutters in surprise, "I'm alive... how is this possible?"

If it weren't for her hand on the small of your back, you'd probably have fallen backward with how abruptly you reenter your body. "This is where it all started, the beginning..." The words fall from your lips, but they don't feel like they belong to you. They taste foreign and strange on your tongue. Shadowheart slowly slides beside you, in your line of sight. You lock your eyes on hers. A brief flicker of the dream you just saw flashes before you, and for a second her hair is dark, she's wearing bangs and a mysterious circlet. "The beginning of what?"

Even if you tried, you couldn't miss the subtle sadness that weakens her smile. As if disappointed. Still, her hand tenderly takes yours. "The beginning of us, love." Her words gentle, careful. Expectant...

She's waiting for your markings too...

After a brief moment, Shadowheart guides you to kneel next to the spot on the sand, and she takes her place opposite you. "Think, Tav. Relax and let it come back..." she says encouraging, sitting on her knees with her palms flat on her legs.

While you're unsure at first, you humor her and take a deep breath. Easing the tension in your shoulders and staring into the warm grains of sand...

"We need each other, and we both know what's at stake." The cleric, Shadowheart states confidently. "I can't think of better company."

Well, when she says it like that, how are you to argue? "Suppose it would make the most practical sense. Two heads are better than one and all that. Very well. We're burning daylight standing around" You nod, once again hating how you're somehow shorter than a half-elf even if only by a few inches.

Her hand catches your arm before you fully turn away. "Before we go... I just want to thank you. For saving me." Shadowheart says, her hand lingering on your arm. "It would have been all too easy for you to run right past my pod. But you didn't." She pauses before she ends with a heartfelt, "I'll remember that." And nods.

"All too easy..." echoed in the distance. Shadowheart paid no mind as she started up the beach beside you, "all too easy to forget yourself, more like."

You watch helplessly as she admires the dark, ominous spear in her hand, before she grips it in both hands and glares at the mysterious Nightsong.

She rears the spear back

You taste blood—

And your hands fly to your skull, jumping backward from anything and everything, pushing back on your hands until the sand scratches your palms raw. Desperately bringing your knees into your chest, hugging them closer to you before burying your face against them. "Talk to me, please." Her voice pleads next to you, her touch on your hand.

All too easy...

You jerk away, her voice worming into your ear trying to find purchase in your mind again but you won't let her... you won't be brought to heel again.

Tense silence falls over you like a blanket, cold, wet, heavy. Suffocating, drowning, your chest coiled tight and ready to implode on itself. "Tav... it's me." The voice is different. Sweet. "Whoever you think I am," she continues, like a warm caress in your ears, "I'm not her."

She tries again to touch your hand and though you twitch; the response is more subdued and so instead she grips your hand. You feel her slowly, carefully moving closer to you, her other hand stroking the top of your head. "You're safe here."

Just like that, the seas calm and the waves subside. Timidly lifting your tear-stained face from the fortress of your knees, and Shadowheart, your Shadowheart wastes no time wiping away the lingering tears. "We'll get through this together, my love. You're not alone. I won't let you face this on your own."

For a moment, you dare to feel a flicker of hope in her words.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

I'm going to give a shoutout to my bestie who motivated me to write this and my biggest cheerleader and fan @ethelspetals

Go send her lots of love and appreciation and check out her youtube. The gif used here was picked out by her.

[withgreatpowercomesmyfuckingdick]

brief rant on me hating online school scroll if uninterested

i just. fucking hate online college.

im going to start with omfg these people don’t give two shits about their students which nah fucking duh. this is a technical college putting courses online to cut corners and do more courses with less teachers because they’re BROKE. it isn’t ideal and i am completely self taught. let me repeat that. i am COMPLETELY self taught.

i am also working at a tax office. during fucking tax season. my teachers are pretty much completely unsympathetic.

and sometimes im like well maybe im lazy, maybe im not doing enough, and then i have to remind myself: I’m fuckin ADHD. I’m severely under medicated, as in my meds don’t do shit anymore and I currently can’t access new ones. I TRIED to get on disability, because schools CAN get you accommodations for ADHD, and the lady in charge of the office ignored me. I emailed her several times, got the read receipts, and she ignored me. She doesn’t even have an office on campus, so I can’t ask to speak to her.

and it’s not like im dumb or can’t keep up in learning. i know my shit. i ALWAYS know my shit. i just don’t do well with conventional assignments and i don’t do well with the online schooling system because i have no way to separate my personal and school life. assignments just rack up in front of me and im procrastinating on them right fucking now because it intimidates me when its like that, even when i know if I don’t complete these my grade will get worse. i’ve hit a point where the urgency makes me shut down instead of going into overdrive because there’s too much shit going on at once for me to stress myself out, even though i SHOULD be stressing

I’m doing my best. I am, but the odds are stacked against me and my teachers are no help. I feel whiny and bratty saying that because it’s fucking college, ofc teachers don’t give a fuck, but I don’t understand how these people don’t even teach me and can’t find it in themselves to give me some leeway on an assignment I’m turning in late or didn’t even know existed, or straight up giving me a ZERO over an assignment I broke my BACK over because the annotations weren’t the specific format she wanted. im fucking exhausted and so so sick of watching the grades decline because I can’t keep up, and no matter how I try to explain, they’re giving me the polite, roundabout version of “skill issue, tough break, get good” and fucking moving on. i know im a drop of water in the bucket and this means absolutely nothing but its so FRUSTRATING and i’ve got parents breathing down my neck that hate to see C’s, and C’s might be the best I can give them at this point.

i want to just quit at this point honestly, but i wont, because i didnt get to this point just to fucking quit. im going to aim for B’s out of spite, and I’m going to bug the shit out of my teachers, and I’m going to ace my fucking finals just like I did last semester so i can walk out throwing birds over my shoulder.

thanks for coming to my tedtalk or wtv

[fake-married-my-dead-fiance]

And I wrote some fan fiction. Read it below or on AO3

*****

Random snippets of Mu-deok/Naksu's diary:

Master Kill List: -trader who sold Mu-deok -Joo-wol nah she's cool -Jang Uk I promised I wouldn't, but I might... - Park Dang-Gu (I mean, I like him but he's related to Park Jin so I have to keep him here) -Jin Cho-yeon (no regrets there) -Lady Jin -Sang-ho (how dare he not let me in to Songrim!) -Jin Mu -That guy who knocked the meat stick out of my hands -Crown Prince he can live

-This jerk is the most spoiled, most picky, most annoying, most whiney human being I have met in my life. I did not know people like this even existed.

-The Danju abandoned me, guess I'll go watch my own funeral. Not sure what else to even do. This body is the worst body. I used to have actual muscles. Like how long would it even take for me to be able to climb up the side of a bridge? Ridiculous.

-My only option is this idiot...

-The poisoning plan worked perfectly. No regrets

-If Park Dang-Gu or ANYONE touches my hair or attempts to pat my head ONE MORE TIME I am killing them right then and there. I don't care if they're mages and I'm powerless. Poison. I'll use poison.

-Why does Jang Uk take so many baths? I don't get him at all. Before I guess he got cold because his gate of energy was closed but he's supposed to be normal now. Why the baths? WHY?

-This is the best luck ever! As long as Jang Uk doesn't die figuring out how to use it, he's going to have a whole ton of energy! This dude is so lucky.

-Jang Uk thinks I have to try not to fall in love with him?! Full of himself much? Now Seo Yul...

-Jang Uk randomly hugged me today just because he was happy despite the fact that I was covered with filth. He's so weird. I wish he had spent some of his lazy childhood actually learning how to fight because watching him was embarrassing.

He did manage to draw his father's sword though. Progress!

Crown Prince seems fairly easy to manipulate, Seo Yul not so much. I gave my sword to the C.P., not happy about that but I didn't have much choice. Jang Uk cannot fight with the C.P. again until he's stronger.

-Jang Uk was crying. It was awkward so I left.

-Jang Uk is still sad. He does not understand the basics of burying the hurt until it becomes hatred which is used to fuel your relentless training. It's how I became so powerful. (I need my power back!) I'm not actually sure what to do other than kicking him. I have no use for a student who won't learn.

-Master Heo has horrible self-control for someone his age. Finally got my useless student to move. Also, weird seeing Park Jin and he has no idea who I am. Even weirder with Seo Yul...

-Came here to focus on training and Jang Uk just wants to take baths again...

-WHY WON'T HE JUST DRINK THE CHASTE TEA??? I would in a heartbeat if I could get my powers back. I would cut it off permanently! I would give up a hand! This is Master Lee! He is legendary. He is the strongest mage I've ever seen. Drink the freaking tea!

It's some weird guy thing. I do not understand men.

-Threw a knife at that bastard, he deserved it. I'm going to burn the whole cottage down if he doesn't start training.

Went into town and almost got dragged away. Learned that this body can't tolerate alcohol which is just... perfect.

-It's so strange to be here with other people. Far less lonely I guess. I wish I could climb my tree. I can hardly climb a shrub in this useless body. Jang Uk still can't control his hand.

-Jang Uk thought he was so fast but I poked HIM in the eyes. That's what he deserves. He said some weird stuff about my soul marks and standing close to people. Ridiculous.

-Decided to hand him over to stay alive. It's only right... Traded my life for a damn bird egg. But Jang Uk actually did Tansu! We might survive this duel after all

-WHAT DO THEY MEAN I'M NOT ALLOWED IN SONGRIM?

-Now that Jang Uk got what he wanted he might just leave me behind. I'm not staying here and working as a servant for the rest of my life. I should have blackmailed him before he went; I didn't know the stupid rules. How could he do this? Trained him to win and now I'm left behind. He better not forget about our promise. But unless I'm there how will I make sure he keep training? I'm not staying in this pathetic body for years...

-Is the Crown Price in love with Mu-deok? Also, I cannot even express how much I hate cinnamon.

-Shit. Why did he have to say that? What is wrong with him? It was *not* a love letter.

-HE IS SAD AGAIN! I do not know how to deal with sad people. Why does this jerk have so many emotions? Why is he so lazy? You just keep going no matter how much pain you feel.

Also, Songrim wont even beat a student who won't train? They also suck at torture. How has this organization even survived? Pathetic.

-Ha ha! Bet my bird egg to make Jang Uk train. Was forced to admit I value the jade egg. Overall worked great. I do hope he manages to get it back. Because I want my power back and that would prove he's improving, no other reason.

-Jang Uk keeps hugging me. It's weird. Why is he so clingy? At least he's happy now. I'll bring him some snacks.

Another woman attempted to bring Jang Uk snacks. I wonder if I should kill her?

-So do I love him? Maybe? Doesn't matter if I do; once I get my powers back I'm gone. He's the crazy one who thinks we could possibly have a future after all of this. It would never work. It doesn't matter, love is useless and fickle. It's not worth risking your life over.

-Stupid love. Stupid ice stone. Stupid giving up my chance at powers. Stupid people that I love didn't want to see die being inside the ice stone. Stupid stupid stupid. Now I'm stuck in this useless body forever.

[sillybeansss]

YOU MENTIONED YOUR SCHOOL DID WHAT????, MUSICALS????,STARTS LAUHING MANIACALLY (i am so jealous of you…what do you mea your school does musicals?? how come mine doesnt do that…)

also, yeahh, i can understand how the kids can ruin the school. not going to lie, i used to hate my school a lot to the point i would constantly talk about transferring. i merely dislike it now, ive sort of made peace with the fact that this has to be my school for at least one more year before i move…

it was mostly the kids. i was constantly getting teased and im not the best with ridicule. but i dont really hang around those people anymore and just keep to myself so. and i have made a few friends which i am proud of!!

though that isnt exactly the only reason. i just really dislike the principle, staff and school system overall. the only part of the staff i like are probably the afterschool…supervisors??? dunno what to call them. also the lunch ladies are nice. AND THE TEACHERSSSS I ALWAYS GET SO ATTACHED TO THE TEACJER HUT I WILL ADMIT SOME TEACHERS ARE ALSO HORRIBLE!!! like my math teacher!!! she was kind of my whole downfall but i wont get into that. sorry to hear the kids at your schools are jerks though!! it happens at times, really the best thing to do is ignore them. surround yourself with good people and stuff! 

omgg…the lower campus of my school had an auditorium and we were supposed to perform an end of the year play and. GUESS WHAT. IT NEVER HAPPENED???? I HAD ONE OF THE MAIN ROLES TOO. not that i wanted it, because i was an ungrateful brat and i wanted something with a little less lines but i guess it didnt matter in the end. SIGHH. 

annie and charlie brown are amazing though i wish i could see them…ough,,, the things one wants the most 💔

ooh ive heard of band!!! i think i have a couple of band kid friends…or at least one…and yall are living my dream not going to lie. the only instrument i can play is the flute but its alright because were there to learn amirite…(id probably get so embarrassed for messing up once but its alright i would still love it)

and can i just say i LOVE THE SAX??!?! I LOVE SAXOPHONES SO MUCH…too bad i cant play any wood wind instrument that isnt the flute (and i lost the hook)…or any instrument at all…

maybe i should pick up piano but im really lazy

ive only ever seen one musical but im really fixated on it (i think im slowly losing said fixation though due to hetalia. uh oh) and it was AMAZING(??? it was so cool i loved it im so glad i was introduced to musicals with that specific one…ALSO DONT WORRY ABOUT YAPPING!!! im yapping even more so really i should be the one feeling guilty here…um. sorry,,,

ALSO!!! good luck on your next concert!!!! i hope it goes tremendously well :D

(again, wish i were there to see it 💔)

~🫶🏽🎳

Im happy school has become less of a hate and more of a dislike but i wanna say I'm proud of you for making it so far already dude!! :3 hopefully things will gradually get better and WHAT!!! WHY WOULD THEY NOT DO IT THAT'S SO LAMEE!!!! I bet you would've done great in that role dude

And I think you should pursue piano tbh I play percussion I'm not the best at keyboard percussion/piano stuff but it looks fun and I'm sure with some practice you'll be able to figure out the notes and try playing songs yk? Starts small and simple and continue gradually!! Instruments take time and lots of practice but I understand what you mean about being lazy I think the only reason why I'm not so good about keyboard percussion is because I don't practice too often,,,

And the guys at my school SUCKKKK but I do try to ignore them when I can they just get under my skin/make me pissed off but my friends make school worth it yk? I try and be open-minded about school when I can cause optimism usually makes me happy (obv I think)

And Annie was the first musical I've seen irl it was FIREEE Oml I loved the music!! ^_^ and personally my favorite musical is Heather's,,, I think its just cause it was one of the first musical I heard about and it's stuck with me for YEARS!!!

[emrinalex]

Dear Xiao Zhan & Wang Yibo,

Hi. You don't know me because I am a slightly eccentric, white, retired lady with a spoiled Shih Tzu and dubious eyesight...but i digress.

As you two may recall, you both shot to fame in The Untamed (or CQL, as you probably know it better).

I watched your show in 2022, at which time I could not spell Beijing, let alone find it on a map.

Actually, it turns out - amusingly enough - i had the entire country of China in the wrong place in the map in my head (the same one where Reno NV is 5 miles from Las Vegas)!

I had China & Mongolia and Siberia/Russia completely flipped about. Who knew the Himalayas weren't near Shanghai! Not me!

Anyway,

Where was I? Oh, your live drama series. I'm a pushover for cute people in hanfu. And, see, I know translations are tricky to do well & can be awful (looking at you, Netflix).

So, i thought to myself, oh, it was somewhere in Episode 20 (around the time i wanted to punch Wei Ying in the face for being mean to Lan Zhan who had just spent 3 looooonng months in the wilderness with Jiang Cheng, aka "Grumpy Bro").

I thought: Self, if you could learn a bit of modern Chinese, you wouldn't be dependent on subtitles!

Yes! A brilliant idea!

And then i thought: Self, if you knew some Chinese history and some things about Chinese politics and culture, both ancient & modern, why if you did that, the drama (and Lan Zhan's speech patterns) would make more sense!

So, i hit the library. I googled. I watched history vids. I read articles.

And here we are, 2 years later, and I am still clueless why calling Lan Zhan "gege" (elder brother) is such a turn- on, but then, I don't get all the biting either. I just roll with it. Kind of like Wei Ying.

Fun fact: The Yangtze River is 6300 km long. It flows from a height of 5 km in the mountains all the way to Shanghai, where it dumps into the ocean in the same place it has for the last 11 million years. Except the Three Gorges Dam (built on ancient earthquake subsidence and fault lines) is stopping the silt from flowing into the area, so eventually poor Shanghai is going to sink beneath the rising tides of climate change. (Sure hope you guys don't own real estate there. Unless you want to swim in your livingroom).

Then there were oracle bones, the meaning of li, Confucious, chengyu, & the entire Han Dynasty, which gave me my favorite emperor, who is (given name) Liu Bang (劉邦). He was not a noble or even gentry. He schmoozed his way, more or less, into a job as a county deputy sheriff who was kind of lazy and drank a lot. A screw up (probably his) in a group prisoner transfer led to him becoming a war lord & then emperor of China. What's not to love!

So, thanks for it all, guys. I started out just wanting to fan girl you, and now I'm at least half-way into an associate degree in China, um, stuff. A bit eccentric of me, yes, but it keeps me off the streets and out of the pool halls, so i can't complain.

[yoga-burn-review]

Yoga Burn [Honest Review] - Is It Legit & Does It Work?

Though the origin of yoga dates again to centuries however the advantages of this exercise has enhanced day-to-day. The yogis throughout the globe are busy women who handle to carry out yoga amidst their jam-packed routine. They’re at all times searching for yoga guides and movies to carry out yoga anytime anyplace. The Yoga Burn is a information for yogis with step smart interactive movies which focuses on respiration and stretching. Some of the benefits that come with practicing yoga on a regular basis include weight reduction, balancing your metabolism, improving your cardio and circulatory health, increasing your muscle strength and tone, burning fat, improving your flexibility and much more. It is also a total mind and body workout and the deep breathing and relaxation that is involved will leave you feeling calmer and centered.

What sets Yoga Burn apart is its personalized approach to yoga fitness. The Her Yoga Secrets program is authored by Zoe Bray Cotton. This well-known lady is a female fitness expert and yoga teacher. She has been a yoga instructor for many years and she is quite a bit deal in the realm of women’s fitness. She is an expert in female fitness and body transformation and she knows a lot about the female body and how to get it to achieve its full potential. Unlike traditional yoga classes that follow a one-size-fits-all approach, Yoga Burn takes you on a journey through three distinct phases, ensuring that you build strength, flexibility, and confidence at your own pace. You will be using the dynamic sequencing technique. You will begin by learning the basic movements. Once you are comfortable with these movements, the intensity of the sequence is increased. The sequence will keep your body on alert. This means your body will be forced to face new challenges instead of becoming lazy. Yoga Burn strategically combines specific poses and movements to target muscle groups that activate the body’s metabolic rate. This results in an increase in calorie expenditure and fat oxidation, ultimately aiding in shedding excess pounds. Moreover, the incorporation of stress-reducing techniques helps regulate cortisol levels, preventing stress-induced weight gain.

If you've ever been to a yoga class, you probably feel like progress is very slow. This is because most classes don't build from week to week - you are really just doing a random set of poses and sequences each time. This is why most people never get the body they want from yoga - even with months of practice. The key to any successful fitness program is progression and adaptation - you need to force your body (and mind) to change.? An unstructured weekly yoga session isn't good for achieving that. 97% of women who follow the program for at least 12 weeks find that they lose weight. So, if you make a commitment to stick to the program then you can expect to see amazing changes in your physique and the way you feel. There are three different phases in the system. The set up allows you to build your skills so the transition into the advanced workouts is seamless. You begin at the foundation. You will build in a detailed and gradual manner accessible even to complete yoga novices. By going further and pushing your self little everyday will eventually result in you doing difficult yoga poses with ease and comfort. And this will boost your overall health. And by going further with increasing challenge you will avoid hitting a plateau in your workout progress. With this systme you are sure to find the best service which is sure to meet your expectations. Am a living proof here. Even I didn't believe at first but I wanted to give it a try as I was suffering from major depression. It not only lessened my depression but also my body changes were quite surprising.

Click Here to Download Yoga Burn System Now

[quinloki]

Alright, we'll separate these for those that need it, so the first one will be everyone's favorite Fineapple, from the upcoming Accidental Ornithology, a Mafia AU

No CW: good stuff, but not That kind of spicy.

“Handmade. A gift from my father.”

“…Oh.” You actually feel bad about that.

“Mm.” He agrees, taking another sip. “Oh.”

You lower your head in defeat. “It seems, good sir, I am at your mercy. Your, gods help me, very kind, and generous and understanding mercy.”

[censored secret stuff!]

“You work here, yoi?” He asks after a second.

You don’t know what’s with the verbal tick, but you’ll take a free syllable in that voice if the Universe is going to give it to you.

“More nights than not.” You answer, slowly straightening back up.

“You fight well, bartend surprisingly well, I wonder if you can dance well?” He questions.

Your face sours a little but you recover quickly. “I am, regrettably, formally trained in several kinds of dancing.”

“Formally?”

“Eh, it’s a complicated story. Nothing an’ old guy like- er, I mean, nothing a gentleman such as yourself would be interested in.” You correct with a grin.

“How old do you think I am?” He questions. He’s fully seated at the bar, chin resting on his hand, regarding you comfortably.

“Older than me,” you state, and he inclines his head a little. “Still young enough to keep up with me, though.”

He laughs, his ears flushing red a little. “We may just have to test that theory at some point, Miss?”

You give him a full smile. “(Y/N).” You say simply, giving him a small bow. “And you?”

“Not today.” He says, a lazy smirk on his face. “You’ll have to earn that right, young lady.”

You laugh at the jab. “Ah, it’s like that then? Well, I look forward to learning your name. For now I could call you Mr. E, eh?”

He groans. “That’s awful.”

“Alas. He’s got beautiful eyes, a smooth voice, and no sense of humor. What a waste.” You make a show of sighing dramatically. “Hm, then what do I call you in the meantime?”

“Hmmm… Mr. Ananas.”

“Muh - wait, you want me to call you the East Blue word for pineapple?” You question before looking up at his hair and taking a second. “I guess so.”

I feel like I am going to regret this, because you know what you do to me already with your writing...

What is a spicy WIP you'd be willing to share with the class?

hmmmmm >.>

Well, I have a Very Spicy, Very Dark excerpt from Passing Fascination that's a ways off still I don't mind sharing.

I also have a different kind of spicy, show casing everyone's favorite Fineapple.

<.< I could do both, or just pick one, but I'll leave it up to you for what kind thirst you're looking to sate from me <3 xD

[luwritesomething]

DAMIAN WAYNE HEADCANONS !!!

ah, love of my life. this man right here got me years ago into learning more about the batfam and now here i am. you can say it’s kind of his fault. anyways,,, no one asked for this but my brain did. 

requests are open! hit that anon button and tell me your idea!

warnings: swearing, hadn’t been proof-read.

damian’s head is a MESS. don’t get me wrong, the guy is a little genius, but imagine the chaos of languages he has -- arab, english, chinese, i’m a hundred percent he knows russian, urdu is nanda parbat’s official language... 

because of this (^^) he just sometimes shuts down and stays silent. he can’t even think.

he loves all animals but he can’t handle insects. jason found out, and damian bribed him with a collectors special edition of classical books. nobody must know his weaknesses.

he writes in cursive, i have no clues but also no doubts.

words are difficult for him, that’s why he talks the way he does -- so professionally, like he is from another age. 

can stand tim (in small amounts) but no longer they will always have an intellectual rivalry -- it’s probably more from damian’s side rather than tim’s.

he still feels like he has to hide that he looks up to dick.

damian searched what fanfiction was. he’s scarred for life now. 

he’s straight up bored of paparazzi. he’ll go lady gaga on their ass and stare at the ones that are hidden in a bush trying to take pictures of him in secret.

also he will go full cole sprouse on the people trying to take pictures on him while he’s walking through gotham (this means he will snap pictures of the civilians before they snap a picture of him. camera duels, that’s the name)

listens to A LOT of music. everything his siblings listen to, he does too. classical music is his favorite, however. (also enjoys jazz).

taking care of his animals and his duties as robin are his favorite activities.

doesn’t understand social media, but still uses it. he’s too stubborn to admit he’s bad handling that.

too lazy to figure out how to cook, but if he tried in the slightest, he would be an amazing cook.

damian is an incredibly fast learner. it amazes the fuck out of bruce how many new things he can learn in just one day. 

he grows to be an actually very kind person, but his snarky remarks and dry humor never disappears.

likes the addams family. what a surprise.

doesn’t get horror/slasher movies. he keeps getting bored and doesn’t react to the jumpscares. jason says he is dead inside, which everyone agreed on.

they don’t know (^^) that damian is making a superhuman effort to not kick someone when the jumpscares occur because this little guy has his senses to the maximum all the time.

can’t be bothered unless someone is being ignorant or trashing about his family. he’s the only one that trashes about his family >:(

texts like a grandpa but at least he knoews what’s happening (most of the times)

like jason, damian has been kicked out of the wayne family chat numerous times.

has an elderly person soul except for when he’s fighting. then he’s a vicious little shit-

plays piano. no, i will not elaborate.

will correct your grammar in a condescending tone of voice.

“don’t patronaze me.” @ everyone.

has general knowledge about a shit ton of things. and since he doesn’t know how to properly socialize (canon) will spill those facts in order to start a conversation during galas.

has threatened the police -- 10/10 will do it again.

damian couldn’t care less about gossip but since he’s a good listener he always ends up knowing the tea about  E V E R Y T H I N G.

cocky bastard. that’s it, that’s all i’m saying.

he has no idea how to handle compliments. it still makes him freeze whenever someone says he’s cute or has pretty eyes.

“no.” (damian’s answer every time someone calls him cute).

believes in soulmates and in love at first sight, not as a superficial concept but as a ‘i’m clicking and mystically attracted to this person rewardless of their looks’.

reads A LOT.

never as much as jason, and also he doesn’t just read like narrative books -- he reads those thick books about how to do things, biographys, and studies about subjects he randomly knows about.

barely sleeps, if he ever does. 

sleep is for the weak™

(^^) proceeds to randomly fall asleep during patrols or family dinners.

acts like a brat but he actually isn’t -- it’s so complicated to explain, i hope someone just gets it.

at 17 he’s taller than dick and almost as tall as jason. suck it, @ everyone who mocked his height.

jon kent is his Best Friend™

(^^) damian told me himself.

he’s very handsome (canon lolz)

no but like, i mean, he will actually be one of those men you think ‘good fucking lord, he’s handsome’

damian thinks selina is cool.

has a lot of anger and frustration inside. it calms him down knowing jason also has problems like those because it makes him feel more... normal.

because normal is something damian would have liked to feel if he hadn’t been conceived to be perfect.

he would love six of crows -- would really like kaz brekker.

secretly enjoys the ya genre, will never admit it out loud.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

King and Queen in The North

Chapter Five: Every Bit of You

previous chapter: Nothing But Dissatisfaction

pairing: robb stark x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ only (minors pls DNI), smut, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), normal GoT stuff, tiny bit of angst at the end

words: i was too lazy to find out the exact WC but somewhere around 2,000

a/n: eeeeeeeep i was/still am so nervy to write smut because i feel like i’m shit at it, so if this is a flop pls ignore it ✨

“Where’d you learn to shoot a bow?” Robb leaned on the wooden table between you, a drunken grin on his face as he studied yours.

The night had gone on far longer than anyone expected, with Lady Catelyn retiring to her chambers hours ago. Robb stayed with you at the table after dinner having wine, with one cup quickly turning to ten.

“My father taught me when we moved from Winterfell to Casterly Rock. I suppose he was worried about me protecting myself.” You shrugged, not remembering an exact reason why he’d decided to teach you. Regardless, it was hard to even try to remember with Robb’s big blue eyes looking at yours so romantically. You quickly looked down at the table, your fingertips tracing the rim of your goblet as you tried not to blush. “What about you? When did you pick up swords?”

“I’m having a hard time remembering anything with you looking like that.” He complimented, his voice thick and sultry as his eyes raked up and down your body. You shook your head and blushed with a grin before downing the rest of your wine.

“You’re insufferable.” You groaned as you laid your head on the table, unsure of how you were supposed to keep yourself from him any longer.

“Have I offended you, my lady?” He asked, his hand reaching over to grab yours. You shivered at his touch and looked at your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours slowly. Your eyes lifted to his, hoping to silently convey your deep desire for him with only eye contact. Robb tilted his head backwards, gesturing at his chamber. “Do you want to join me in my chamber? It’s a bit more private there.”

You watched as his eyes flickered towards the old woman, still awake and eavesdropping on your drunken conversation.

“It isn’t a noble act for a King to invite a woman into his chambers without marrying her first, your grace.” You smirked up at him, the alcohol in your system overriding all logic you used to possess. Robb stood up and held his hand out for you, making you chuckle as you accepted it.

It was quiet as you walked down the corridor to his room at the tiny inn, his heavy footsteps filling the hall as he walked in front of you. When you reached his door, he stopped and looked at the doorknob as his hand reached for it, seemingly taking a moment to reconsider his actions. You sensed the hesitation and reached for his arm, bringing his eyes to yours.

“You’re a good man…I understand if your nobility triumphs over your feelings for me, Robb.” You watched as he slowly began to shake his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you with sincerity.

“I want to be a good man..but if nobility means staying away from you, I want no part in it.” He whispered to like a confession and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling into his arms, kissing him deeply as he walked you backwards into the room. He shut the door and closed the latch before turning back to you, his hands grabbing both sides of your face in a passionate kiss. You tugged at the strings of his blouse as he walked you back towards the bed, the back of your knees hitting the wooden frame abruptly. Robb’s hands left your face and roamed to the back of your dress, his fingers attempting to undo the tight laces of your gown.

You chuckled at your mutual struggle, your laugh humming against his lips as you finally managed to untie his blouse. Robb hummed as your hands began running over his bare skin, pushing the fabric off of his shoulders. Finding new motivation, Robb finally managed to loosen your dress enough for you to get out of it, a proud grin on his face as you pushed him onto the bed. You stood in front of him, slowly stepping out of your gown until you were bare before him.

“The gods were kind when they made you.” He sat up and slid his big, warm hands up your torso until he was cupping your breasts. You were completely lost in him, with no hope for resurfacing again. Climbing onto his lap, you felt your center throb for him, his beautiful eyes looking deeply into yours as he wrapped his arms around you. His lips pressed against the valley of your breasts, tender kisses trailing up your skin to your neck. You tossed your head back when he began to suck and bite on your pulse, your hips grinding against his lap in a desperate attempt at relief. “I have loved you since I was a little boy…chasing you around the castle, imagining what it would feel like to hold your hand.”

“I want you to do more than hold my hand, my King.” You whispered as you leaned back into him, holding his face in your hands as you kissed him, his hands firmly gripping your ass and hips as you moved against him. “Take it all off for me.”

“Lay down,” He instructed, standing up and quickly kicking his bottoms off. You laid on your side, your head propped up by you elbow as you took him in. His body was glowing in the soft candlelight, his length proud as he crawled on top of you and hovered. “Is this what you want?”

“I want every bit of you, Robb Stark.” You reached up to his neck and pulled him down to your lips, your tempo slow and drawn out as you took your time together, his hips pressing into yours making you gasp. You both looked down at the space between your bodies, eyes fixed on his length as it slid up and down your wet center. Your eyes fluttered closed as he rubbed against your bud, a soft moan leaving your lips as you tossed your head back. Robb whimpered as he accidentally pressed the tip of his length inside of you, the sensation catching you both by surprise. You opened your eyes and smiled up at him, but he looked like he was filled with nerves. “Do you want to stop?”

“No, it’s not anything…I just…I’ve never…I’ve only done certain things, not…not this.” He avoided your eyes, ashamed to have never been with a woman in this way before. You chuckled at the fact that he thought you would care, causing his eyes to shoot to yours in offense.

“My beautiful wolf,” You stroked his curls back as you studied his face from underneath him. “Fuck me.”

“Y/N,” He breathed out like a prayer as his lips crashed with yours, his length pushing inside of you until he was fully sheathed in your arousal. You gasped against his lips as he drew himself out and back in at a slow pace, your thighs tingling at the sensation. He targeted the most tender spot inside of you with expert precision, making you wonder if you’d been lied to, but his shaking hand sliding down to your clit told you he was simply a natural. “You feel so good…”

“Oh, Robb…you know exactly where to—oh!” You moaned a bit too loud as he snapped his hips against yours at a new angle. He grinned proudly at his success in pleasuring you, sitting up onto his haunches. You hugged your knees to your chest and watched from the pillows as he began to find a quicker rhythm, his precision still perfect. His eyes met yours and he smirked as he watched your eyebrows furrow, his thumb stroking your clit just right.

“Is this alright?” He asked in a husky voice, watching as you nodded through your bliss, your head pressing hard against the pillows as your back began to arch. You let go of your knees and wrapped your legs around his waist, sitting up and climbing onto his lap. Robb accepted you onto his lap and continued fucking up into you as you hugged him close. “I love you, Y/N…no one will ever be as perfect to me…”

“I love you, Robb.” You squeaked out your affections for him as you slipped into your orgasm, your body trembling as you held onto your King. Robb’s pants and whimpers grew louder as he continued fucking you, his release building by the second. You knew it wasn’t wise to get pregnant, especially with your romance being practically forbidden, so you climbed off him and crawled off the bed to your knees. “Let me taste you, my King in the North.”

“You’re a dream.” He praised as he stood in front of you, looking down and locking eyes with you as you wrapped your hands and lips around his length. Robb’s head tipped back as you took him in and out of your mouth, sinful and quiet praises and promises slipping from his lips as his cock began to twitch. “Oh, fuck…”

His sweet release gathered in your mouth as he held your face in his hands, and you swallowed every bit he had to give you. His cheeks flushed pink and chest became covered in a sheen of sweat as he stood panting. After a moment, he helped you to your feet, pulling you onto the bed and into his embrace. You smiled as he drew circles against the skin of your back, your fingers running lightly over his chest.

“I’ve always been so caught up with being perfect, I feel as though I never really lived…until I met you again.” He confessed in a husky whisper, his throat still strained from holding in moans. You lifted your head and rested your chin on his chest to look at him as he spoke. “I thought if I wasn’t perfect, if I wasn’t just like my father…I don’t know. I suppose I thought I would be betraying my family name. But I’m realizing more and more that trying to be him is impossible. My father was a one in a million kind of man.”

“Yes, he was.” You nodded, watching as his eyes turned from the ceiling to yours. “But now that you know you will never be your father, you get to be something even more wonderful—yourself.”

“What if who I am tears me away from my mother? What if in becoming my own man, I lose my family?” He asked, his eyes conveying a fright you had yet to see in him. You felt your lips part, shocked by his vulnerability as you laid in his arms. You shook your head, unsure of how to help ease his burden.

“I don’t know, my King.” You watched as his eyes watered, looking back to the ceiling. “I only know that I will be there until you send me away. I will be there if you rule gloriously until you’re grey, and I will be there if everyone in the seven kingdoms turns their backs on you. I can’t make promises for anyone but myself, and I promise you that I will stay.”

“In my dreams we would run away, far away from this war and violence.” He adjusted himself so that he was on his side looking down at you as you laid against the pillows, his fingertips trailing up and down my stomach.

“Where would you take me?” You asked with a childlike smile, so caught up in everything him.

“We would sail for an island, somewhere where nobody cares about titles or who we are.” He smiled back at you, his hand flattening against your skin and rubbing your hip. “And I would marry you by the ocean, promising my life to you with no one around to tell us not to. Our days would be spent building a quaint cabin for our family to live in.”

“And our nights?” You asked, your fingers tracing over the scruff of his beard. Robb grinned as he leaned in to kiss you tenderly.

“Our nights would be spent creating that family.” He rubbed the tip of his nose against yours before placing another gentle peck against your lips. When he pulled away, his eyes were tender, though filled with sadness. “My mother…she intends to marry me off to Walder Frey’s daughter, or one of them, I suppose.”

“And?” You blinked, trying to prevent your eyes from welling with tears as you thought about your love living out his days with another. Robb’s thumb stroked across your bottom lip as he thought of his next words, knowing the weight they carried.

“And I’m afraid I will have to disappoint her.” He spoke simply as he leaned back in, your arms thrown around his shoulder as he climbed on top of you again, the need for more of each other interrupting the conversation for the rest of the evening.

[gillianthecat]

GAP — episode 2

It seems like my GAP reactions have become the space in which I wax philosophical about various matters political and personal. But it's an excellent show nonetheless, I'm starting to really like it!

below the cut are my thoughts while watching:

- So does Sam know that she has a crush and is flirting like mad? I honestly can't tell how self-aware she is.

- Sam's friends! I love them all already. I appreciate that this show is populating Sam's world with interesting queer women. It feels like they've studied the boys' shows and are applying all the lessons carefully and skipping over a lot of the growing pains. So if Sam already knows she's queer, maybe she does realize she has a crush, she's certainly waiting by the phone anxiously. Then again, she seems not very in touch with her feelings in general.

- Ok. I hate grandmother. I love both the sisters. And Freen is great at portraying the two versions of Sam—young, open and vulnerable, and grown up, hard and walled off.

- On the one hand, I’m guessing that Sam just wants an excuse to keep bringing Mon into her office. Which is adorable. On the other hand, I’m having to actively work to not get annoyed at how bad a boss Sam is being. Not so much the meanness, that I can handle, but at how unskillful she is at it. Just telling your employee (who is brand new to the office and to the working world in general!) "change it" and "it doesn’t wow me" without giving any specifics? That is not the way to get the results you want with any efficiency. On the third hand, I am relieved not to hear them rambling on about "influencers" and marketing." So possibly a win overall. And their dynamic is great.

- And Mon called her out for it it! Bless you, darling. Sam tried to pull that boss bullshit are you just lazy? thing, but at least I know the show isn't ignoring it. And that is enough for me to be content, I think.

- I think I may actually really like this show? I was going to watch it regardless as long as it wasn't completely terrible (and I made it all the way through fahlanruk, so clearly my tolerance for terrible is high) just to a) support Thai GL, and b) see what they would do, but it's turning out to be very good. A solid story, good characters, lots of really good details, and it feels genuinely queer. I'm so pleased.

- The one sticking point for me is the whole influencer social media thing, but thinking about it, I can see how that was the best choice. If they want to make a billionaire romance with a cruel boss and and an ingenue employee, which I fully support because it's a genre with a lot of delicious potential, especially when made lesbian (I have no interest billionaire romance when done straight á la Fifty Shades of Gray, but love it when it's played with in some way) then they need a company for the billionaire to run. And they need to find something that a) could realistically become profitable in this day and age, b) Lady Sam could plausibly be passionate about, because the tension between her love for running a business and grandmother's pressure on her to live a traditional heterosexual life is crucial to the story they're telling, and c) feels cool and hip to fit the aesthetic of the show. So it can't be a paper company or something boring, and advertisers have always been the sexy creatives of the business world. "Content Creators" aren't as interesting, but they are more modern and more plausible as a start up business. And so while social media marketing still makes me recoil, and I honestly think is responsible for a lot of ills in this world,* I do understand their reasoning and I think that will allow me to tolerate and ignore it. I just hope Sam learns how to be an effective boss at some point along the way too!

*I didn't find Mad Men's ad agency setting off-putting in the same way. Perhaps because the creativity is more obvious in what they were doing, perhaps because it was all set in the past so it had that nostalgic fascination rather than watching people work at something that is actively making the world and my own life worse today. Not that advertising in the 60's didn't do a shit ton of harm to the world that continues to fuck over the planet. But I don't personally feel it as viscerally. Plus I think there is less creativity in the sort of content creation that Lady Sam's company seems to be doing, although to be honest the whole show is keeping it all pretty vague for now.

- Tangent over. I love how full of queer women this show is! It's not just the main couple, it's both of Sam's sisters, probably all of her friends, and even the villain and/or faen fatale! The only heterosexual couple (besides the parents) were kicked off the show in the first half an hour, in a loss for workers' rights but a victory for gay rights. And the only confirmed straight guy is Mon's creepy friendzoned neighbor, who is all but discarded. (Kirk may be straight, but it's not confirmed yet.)

- Speaking of which, I'm kind of excited to see what this villainous woman is going to do.

- I suspect most people associate Heng with Sky and expect him to be good, but my strongest association is with his character from War of Y so I keep waiting for him to be at least mildly evil.

- I actually really appreciate that this migraine is a situation in which taking medicine actually makes sense to me. Characters in Thai shows keep taking medicines for ailments that don't seem fixable with medicine and it always slightly annoys me. I don't know if that's part of the general Thai approach to health, or if it's just a shorthand for caretaking that dramas have developed, but it is so different from my approach.

- Oh how tender. Her head on her lap. I like this rendition of the caretaking trope. It uses the tropes, but puts its own spin on it to make it feel interesting and real.

- (I feel like I had that shirt pattern as wallpaper as a child. I'm not knocking Mon's outfit, I love her workwear style! But it definitely has a late eighties/early nineties vibe, especially combined with the oversized blazer in that shade of pink.)

- I love how even half asleep and knocked out with pain and drugs Sam (pardon me, Hon. Lady Sam) is still bossy and prickly and rude.

- Sleepy taxi head to shoulder slide my beloved! (I don't know what to call this trope, but it's always a good one.)

- I don't think I've ever seen That Fucking House 1.0 from the street before. I always pictured it somewhere more suburban and quiet.

- I love their dynamic so much! And I'm glad that Mon is getting the stars knocked out of her eyes—it makes for a much more interesting story (and a healthier relationship) if she has to fall back in love with the real Sam, rather than coasting on hero worship.

- Omg, I adore prickly bossy Sam. She is so cat coded. Be polite. Why are you so formal. Text me. Why are you texting me, you should call. Why are you calling me. 😸 I thought maybe it was because I'd just watched Choco Milk Shake so I'm imagining cats everywhere. But no. Mon really is another cat. I love her. And just like Milk, she is totally confused by her feelings and has no idea how to act around her crush. She sure sat up quick though 😹

- Oh Mon baby. My darling. How heartbreaking to find out that your idol, your forever crush, is not the person you thought she was. That she's actually mean and rude and confusing and is a terrible boss. And you're just trying to be a good employee but you have no idea what she wants from you. Oh my darling.

- Oh my god, Sam has zero social skills. I mean, it makes sense why, but she is a disaster. Mon is doing a great job of telling her when she's being hurtful or confusing, and every time Sam doubles down on acting like an asshole. Sigh. I still love her though.

- I am glad that Mon has the spine to keep standing up to her. Otherwise their relationship would be doomed and hard to root for. She does it kindly, but clearly and with a strong sense of her own rights and needs as a person. That's hard to do for any brand new intern to their powerful asshole boss, let alone one who's been nursing a hero worship crush for over a decade.

- Oof this scene! Mon kneeling as Sam walks by glammed up with sunglasses on, and completely ignores her.

- I do like this accountant. And I'm inclined toward Kirk. No matter what his role ends up being. I appreciate his rich boy charm here.

- Omg. Of course she hand delivers the snack to Mon. In the rudest, most awkward manner possible. My favorite feral cat. And yes. The battle of wills has begun. ngl, I was nervous about the whole hero worship angle last week, but they're crushing that underfoot quite nicely.

- Does Kirk know about her crush? Maybe even before she does, lol. Also I'm so relieved that Sam has all these friends who tease her when she's got a stick up her ass and treat her like a human being and also genuinely care for her.

- What a spiky kitty cat. Calm your fur, girl.

- This courtship is going to be amazing. I'm so excited to watch Sam flailing around trying and failing to act like a human around Mon. Kirk is all of us in his reactions. 😹

- Date date date! Wingmanned by the fiancé! Which, honestly is necessary at this point. They cannot handle being alone together yet.

- Jesus Christ Sam. You are the embodiment of that Get out of my school meme. I cannot believe the things coming out of your mouth.

- Oh no. Kitty cat, sweetheart, you're going to burn off the roof of your mouth. Stop trying to act cool in front of your crush. Mon's face 😂

- Lol. Well she fooled all of us. I guess she really is cool after all.

- Look at them! Managing to have an almost civil conversation! I'm liking this Kirk-Mon allyship that's developing. I don't know if it will withstand the pressure of the angst to come, but it's something Mon, and their developing relationship, need right now.

- Cat cat cat! She is such a cat. She refuses to look at Mon even though 100% of her attention is focused on her right now 😸 ooh and the boyfriend comment made her gruum-py!

- I can't tell what Kirk knows (I can't even tell what Sam and Mon know about themselves at this point) but I love him for playfully calling out Sam about posing on her car 😸

- Damn! Sam is already asking who Mon is sleeping with. My beloved ill mannered alley cat. And she's so proud of her little joke 😸

- Aw. Mon's crush is back and she is giddy with it. And what an ending moment.

I'm excited about this show now. They're doing so many things right! The story seems solid and well structured, a good base to carry the relationship through to the end. And I feel like they're hitting the right balance for Mon and Sam's dynamic. Sam is spiking and mean and awkward, and a terrible boss, but we also see her with her friends so we know that she can take teasing and be human sometimes, and that she has people in her life that love her. She's mean enough to build that delicious tension, but vulnerable enough that I can see why Mon likes her, and I don't feel like I need to yell at her to run away. And Mon has a good balance between being open and awestruck, while still having the backbone to stand up to her hero. It reassures me that their relationship is going to feel equal, not like a creepy boss taking advantage of her employee. Those sorts of extreme power dynamics are not what I'm looking for in a story; what I like about subverted billionaire romance is seeing how the characters manage the power dynamics in order to have a real relationship.

Based on the trailer and the grandmother's everything, I'm pretty sure this series is going to get angsty and sad. But given the nuance with which they've been treating the characters so far, I trust them to handle it well.