#i may post more of these for my muses as i come across them

[castiwls]

paramour - a.s

Paring; anakin x reader

Synopsis; A paramour is a lover, and often a secret one you're not married to.

Notes;ment to post this for may 4th but never finished it opps.

Masterlist

“Don’t look at me like that.” You kept your gaze on the skyline before you as you spoke. You’d sensed him entering your quarters a few minutes ago but had chosen to keep quiet. Despite your words, you felt his gaze continue to pierce through you as he quietly stood a few feet away. 

“How am I looking at you?” Anakin mused crossing his arms over his chest. A small smirk played on his lips as he watched your hands slowly squeeze the railing you were leaning on. Anakin Skywalker has been a constant in your life for as long as you can remember. 

He’d quickly become one of your closest friends in the temple and you’d found yourself spending almost all your free time with him. At first, your relationship had been completely innocent, but over time that had changed.

As you’d grown older your once platonic feelings had slowly begun to twist and mould themselves into something more romantic. While Anakin had happily taken this in his stride, you had been slightly more anxious about the idea.

You’d been taught your whole life that a Jedi must not hold attachments and still, you found yourself yearning for the touch of a man who by all means should be off limits. You heard Anakin release a small sigh before coming up behind you.

His arms wrapped around your middle as he rested his chin on top of your head. “You're nervous, I can feel it.” He squeezed your waist gently before pulling back slightly to turn you in his arms.

A smile grew on his lips as he raised a hand to your face, gently rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “I missed you.” He spoke quietly leaning down to brush his lips against yours. “You saw me an hour ago.” You responded feeling your breath hitch.

The pit of anxiety he’d sensed continued to swirl. What if someone walked in? What would happen if someone caught you in his arms?

He shook his head. “That doesn’t count.” He gently caught your lips with his own, using the hand still on your waist to pull you closer.

You knew this was wrong. Having feelings for Anakin was one thing, but acting on them was another thing entirely. At first, you’d resisted, pushing him away gently but you’d quickly learnt he was persistent. 

It hadn’t been long till you’d found yourself giving in to him. You’d spent countless nights wrapped in his arms, living in the fantasy of waking up beside him every morning without the guilt and worry you constantly felt.

After a moment you pulled back, a small smile pulling on your lips. Any worry you’d had was slowly beginning to melt away the longer you stood in his arms. “Are you staying?” You kept your voice quiet, the idea of being caught still lingering in the back of your mind.

Anakin nodded wrapping a hand around your wrist. “Of course my love.” He gently pulled you back inside and towards your room. He’d found the last few nights whenever he slept in his own room, his dreams were plagued with nightmares and things which made his blood run cold.

Sleeping beside you didn’t take those nightmares away but having you safe in his arms soothed the fear that coursed through him.

A small sigh of contentment left your lips as you fell against the bed. You turned your head feeling the bed dip beside you, Anakin moved to face you propping himself up on his elbow. His eyes slowly traced your face as he reached out to pull you close.

In the morning you both knew you would go back to being nothing more than friends and no one would know the truth of your relationship. Though for the moment nothing else mattered but the two of you. Nothing else mattered besides the fact that you had each other, and that was something that would never change.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: nice to see ya again!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Thor makes himself as permanent as the layers of sediment. Whether you’re in the dirt or looking over the charts and maps, making notes or sorting through your findings, he appears. Knowing he’ll be there keeps you coming yourself. Despite the short nights and long drives, thinking of him finding an empty site deters you from a day off, even against Sam’s pleas. 

The night before was filled with similar chiding from your friend. Sam is as persistent as ever. He always has a new account of his antics with Bucky and never forgets to tell you to take a break. You can’t stop though. You know if you do, you’ll have to think about everything you’re denying. 

The time away has given you time to breathe but it’s suffocated you in new ways. Along with that weight on your chest that has a name, there’s another you can’t quite understand. The one that sees you spending your spare hours alone and your working hours longing for anything but. You’re desperate to get out but terrified of the very same. 

When he arrives that day, you’re ready to give up. The tension in the air is giving you a headache and the dampness makes your skin feel sticky. You just feel gross. 

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d brave the weather today,” he muses as Thunder hops around his feet. You don’t look up, in a mood as grim as the sky. “You’d do well to stay in tomorrow. Trust me.” 

He’s always right about the weather. It must be the familiarity and yet it’s almost eerie how accurate he is. You might take his advice. You don’t like being wet and you’re starting to go cross-eyed from the hours and hours of concentration. 

Thunder yipes as you use your gloves to brush away clumps of dirt. Thor’s footsteps mulch patches of grass that sparsely carpet the dirt. He hums as his shadows looms in your peripheral. 

“Yes, my darling, I believe you’ve found the perfect spot,” he praises. 

You look over curiously. What is he talking about? You only notice then that he has more than the tiny dog with him. He has a basket on his elbow and a blanket under his arm. You sit up and watch him place down the former and shake out the latter.  

He spreads the blanket over the dirt and Thunder jumps onto it, rolling around on the fabric, digging her nose into the patched quilt as she wiggles across it. You clap off your hands and watch him as he gets down to his knees and flips open one side of the basket. He lays out several containers and two thermos’; one is the very same he brought you tea in.  

“I thought you could use a nice lunch before the weather turns,” he stands and nears the fence, “summer doesn’t last long here. You may as well enjoy it.” 

“Lunch?” You utter. 

“Brunch?” He suggest coyly. “Surely you can take a break. You are only human, you need to eat.” 

“You...” you lean to see around him, “you brought me lunch?” 

“I know it isn’t the most elaborate picnic but I thought it might be a pleasant surprise. I must confess I’ve been rather bored these days,” he admits, “so?” 

“Thor, that’s so... sweet,” you frown, “but...” 

“Work, work, work. Surely they can’t expect you to work yourself to the bone, pardon the pun,” he insists, “it will only be a bit.” 

“Yes, but...” you leave the sentence to hang. You don’t have a good excuse. You don’t know. It just makes you nervous. It’s a whole lot of effort for just you.  

“Oh, I don’t mind if you would rather stay over there. Only mean more for, eh, Thunder?” He asks the canine tramping around the blanket. “More than happy to sit here and enjoy my jelly cookies and hot coffee. 

“Coffee?” Your brows raise. 

“Freshly brewed. Promise, There’s nothing pickled. Though I don’t mind a nice herring,” he grins. 

Thunder bounces over and barks at you. She stands on her hind legs as she paws at the barrier between you. Now, how can you deny her? 

You stand and shed your gloves. You carry them over to the table beneath the tent and grab a wet wipe from the back. You come back under the open sky as you wipe your hands. 

“Sorry about all the dirt,” you scoff as you cross the dirt. 

“I don’t mind,” he assures you. He pulls apart the panels of the fence to let you through. It isn’t something you could ever forget but you can’t help but be stricken again by his sheer size. 

You bend to pet Thunder as she gets between your feet. She licks your fingers and you giggle. She’s cute. 

“Go on, pick her up,” Thor goads, “she loves it.” 

You scoop up the dog and stand. She squirms as she wags her tail incessantly. She swipes your chin with her tongue and you scrunch up your face. You carry her to the blanket and look over the spread. A leafy salad, pasta salad, sandwiches, cookies... There’s so much. Your protein bars and peanut butter and jelly can’t compare. 

“Oh gosh, this... a lot.” 

“Is it? Isn’t too much. We’re friends, yes?” 

“Friends?” You face him as you pet Thunder’s soft head. 

“Perhaps it is rather one-sided. You are obligated to be here, I just sort of haunt this place,” he chuckles. 

“No, no, friends,” you smile, “that sounds about right.” 

You turn away and lower yourself onto the blanket, sure to keep your boots off of it, as you hide your face. There’s a tinge of disappointment. You hear a far off echo in your head. How many times did Steve say the same; we’re friends, just friends, you’re such a good friend. Well, that’s all this is. No need to be so sensitive. 

“Do you ever take time off?” He asks as he gets to his knees. 

You look at him as you put Thunder down. He barely keeps her from chomping down on a rye crust. He lifts her easily and she kicks her legs. 

“Eh, you beast,” he points a finger at her snout, “be good.” 

He sets her back on her paws and she obeys. He tells her to sit and she does so. Her eyes continue to hungrily rove over the food. How can he resist them? 

“Like you said, the weather won’t last. Should get done what I can before the ground gets cold.” 

“Ah, yes, that is a concern,” he tuts, “how would you deal with that?” 

“Heat lamps, tiger torch... jackhammer if I really need but I’d have to put in a request for that...” you hadn’t thought too much into the inevitability of winter.  

“Ah, that’s...” he smirks, “I’m sorry but the idea of you with a jackhammer,” he snorts. 

“Hey,” you pout. 

“It isn’t to be mean but... you’re so gentle. When you dig, you’re so delicate about it.” 

“Am I?” You wonder. 

“Mm, is it a bit weird to say so?” He wonders aloud. “Yes, you are very precise, very cautious.” He takes out a set of plates and offers you one, “please, help yourself.” 

“It must be boring watching. Really, I’m the one digging and it gets dull,” you accept and pluck out one of the sandwiches. Salmon, you think. 

“You make it interesting,” he muses. “You talk to the bones.” 

“I talk to the bones?” You repeat, “what?” 

“Yes, I suppose you’re not aware of it. But your lips move when you’re focused. As if you’re chatting up the dirt,” he chuckles, “sometimes a few words do slip out.” 

“They do?” You blanch before you can help yourself to the salad. 

“You don’t say much. Usually something about the dishes, I’m not too sure.” 

“You never mentioned,” you look away shyly. 

“It’s... cute,” he shrugs. 

“You mean crazy,” you shake your head. 

“I say what I mean,” he counters. “No use in not. We can’t be happy if we’re not honest, not least of all with ourselves.” 

You’re quiet as you turn your attention to your plate. His words feel sharp despite his placid tone. You know it’s only because they’re true, especially for you. If you’d just accepted everything sooner, if you hadn’t been so dumb, if you hadn’t been so emotional, it would never have gotten so bad. No, if you’d just been honest. 

“I hope... I hope that didn’t come off wrong,” he says. 

“No, no, I’m... this all looks so good and I’m starving,” you assure him as you sit back with your plate. “Thank you again. This is... great.” 

“Well, I was thinking, you must miss your friends. I might be a paltry substitute but I thought i might fill that gap, even just for an hour.” 

“It’s really...” your eyes tingle but you push away the tinge of sadness, “it’s really nice.” 

“So tell me,” he scoops up salad onto his plate, “tell me about home.” 

“I...” you begin, surprised by the prompt. “It’s just home. New York. It’s busy and loud. Not like here.” 

“No, not that. Your friends. I want to know all about them. If I’m ever going to come up standards, I’ve got to know the competition.” 

You laugh. He speaks as if he needs to impress you. It’s nice to be somewhere where no one knows you’re not that special. You take a bite of the sandwich and chew, thinking out your question.  

You swallow, “well, my friend Sam, he calls every night to bitch at me. He’s great. Supportive but pushy. He likes to terrorise Bucky. He’s the strong and silent type, you know? Grumpy to boot but they’re... they’re awesome.” You smile without thinking, “before I left, they took me to this cocktail bar...” you blow out between your lips and roll your eyes, “real girly stuff.” 

“Ooh, cocktails. I’ve been known to indulge. I love finding new recipes.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yes, I love the sweet ones. I’ve only just perfected my blueberry basil concoction. I’m afraid I can’t share the secret ingredient unfortunately.” 

“Blueberry?” You ponder the flavour, “sounds yummy.” 

“Perhaps one day you can try it,” he suggest. 

“Maybe,” you say evasively. “Anyway, yeah, Sam and Bucky are... characters.” 

“They sound like it. How’d you meet?” 

“Oh, it’s boring. What about you?” 

“It’s not my turn,” he deflects, “tell me.” 

You don’t know why he cares. It’s as confounding as everything else about him. You still don’t get why he’s here watching you sit in the dirt. It sounds as grueling as watching a golfing tournament, in your opinion. Yet here he is, a man who looks like that, staring at you in your mud-stained khakis. 

“College. We met through a mutual friend,” you explain vaguely. 

“Ah, so you’ve been friends for some time. Yes, I see, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he hums thoughtfully as he toys with the braid that hangs loose by his face, the rest of his hair twisted back as always. 

“Steve,” you say without thinking, your eyes drifting off into the distance, “he was my best friend. We met in art history. We spent almost every day together. Studying, whatever. He was more of a partier than me but... fifteen years, more than, and we saw each other...” You choke on your words and scoff darkly, “sorry, that’s... I’m homesick, I think.” 

You bat away the glaze in your eyes and focus on your food. You take a few bites as he sits quietly. Thunder stands up cautiously and crosses the blanket. She settles against your leg, leaning her head on your thigh. It’s comforting. 

“Yes, I think I would be very homesick as well. I lived in the city for a while but mother and father, they need me. And I love this mountain. It’s home. There was nothing in Oslo for me. I can work from here.” 

“Work? What exactly do you do?” You ask, happy to divert from your own painful past. “Oo, are you like a farmer? Or a shepherd. There must be sheep up here or something.” 

He laughs, “there are some sheep, yes, but those are protected by the government. We’ve not much of a choice where they settle. No, I’m not so savvy as all that.” 

“Hm, you... oh, what could do you here?” You look around, “on a mountain... oh, tours? Do you give tours?” 

He laughs, “it’s not a bad idea, but no. I’m a business owner.” 

“A business. You must sell fitness or something.” 

“Must I?” He narrows his eyes, “and what else do you assume about me?” 

“Oh, it’s only you’re so...” you cringe as you eke out the word, “big?” 

“Genetics,” he affirms, “not that but close, in a matter of looking at it. You recall that tea I brought you, with the cloudberry?” 

“Uh, yeah, it was sweet. Yummy.” 

“I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he smiles proudly, “I make superblends. All Nordic ingredients. There is a demand for wellness and organic products. I found the right niche and I’ve not done too badly.” 

“Must not if you can live all the way up here,” you remark. 

“Yes, but... it’s a reason I moved back. Business is a lonely venture. Now I’ve got it all figured out, I have my managers and my business plan, I break even, I realise how much I put to the side,” he mulls his sandwich and takes a glum bite. It’s the first time you’ve seen him anything but bright and beaming, “I feel like I’ve fallen behind. Like I’m playing catch up.” 

His words sink in and storm inside of you. You crunch on the crisp lettuce and gulp. You wipe your mouth with a napkin and clear your throat. 

“I know exactly what you mean,” you say breathily. 

“Do you? You’re out here, on an adventure all you’re own, how brave,” his voice is wistful and his gray blue eyes reminds you of the clouds above. 

“Yes, I know,” you say, “better than you. Trust me.” 

You smile, a bittersweet tug in your cheeks, and he stares back at you. Your eyes cling to each other and you feel as if the world is moving around you. He smiles and a glimmer of something unfurls in your chest. You make yourself look away. 

“Well,” you push the salad around your plate, “what about you? You must have friends, aside from the girl in the dirt.” 

He hums and scrapes up a bite of the pasta salad. He takes his time chewing before he answers. You scratch Thunder’s nose as she sniffs at your plate. 

“Yes, if you ever come to sample my cocktails, you might meet a few,” he coaxes, “I think you’d get along. Hogan and Vol, and Fandy. All good company. Sif’s not around so often when my brother’s around but he’s as fleeting as the sun.” He tuts, “I would call Loki a friend as well but he does scowl at the very thought.” 

“Loki?” 

“My brother of course,” he explains with , “yes, he is quite the dour one. He might get along with that Bucky.” 

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 13)

A/N: i'm sorry yall, i feel like my posting is getting slower and slower. I know this a short one too but i've been so stressed with uni

WORD COUNT: 862 words

Series masterlist

Both Safia and Rose are waiting for you when you get back from your supper.

“Gods, i’m nearly ready for bed. I’m so tired.” You groan as you walk into the room but both of the girls can see clearly that you walk as if you’re much lighter than you have been for the past few weeks.

“Yes, princess. Your ride was very long today. You entirely skipped lunch.” Safia muses, fetching yours and her own needlework. She hands you yours before sitting on a settee across from the armchair you rest on.

“I suppose I did.” You murmur as you make yourself comfortable, not yet looking at the needlework.

“Your meal with Lord Stark seemed to perk you up.” Rose comments and Safia shoots her a pointed look for her impertinence. She always was the more bold one of the two. 

“I look happier because he said we should have my brothers over for a visit, not because I shared a meal with him.” You say sharply.

“That is wonderful news, princess!” Safia states politely but her joy is clearly genuine as well. She’s loved nothing more than playing with little Aegon and Viserys since her brother died.

“Yes, very wonderful.” Rose adds. It isn’t that she is unhappy with the news, she just senses that it isn’t the only reason you’ve come back to your chambers with such a smile on your face.

Rose is higher born than Safia and you can tell in these moments. She is much less frightened to speak her mind than the lowborn girl is even if she is only the daughter of a second born son whose house is nothing close to prominent. You’ve always liked that about her; Rose doesn’t let her station define her and that’s one of the reasons she’s your closest friend.

“You have other thoughts on your mind, Rose. Speak them.”

“I wouldn’t want to overstep, princess.” She replies. The girl may be bold but she isn’t stupid. She knows how easy it is to hit a nerve when speaking of your relationship, or lack thereof, with Cregan.

“You’ve never had that problem before.” You point out and Safia smiles at the comment, looking back down at her needlepoint right away.

“I just sensed that you were getting along better with your husband. It pleases me to see you smile once in a while. It used to grace your face so often back in Dragonstone, and even in Kingslanding. Now, it seems as though you haven’t smiled for weeks.” it's a sad notion but you aren’t regretful of your coldness.

“I am the last woman in this world to sit down and take the hand they’ve been given by an unfair dealer.” You muse. The anger all feels justified, thinking of yourself as an avenging angel. “If I am compliant in my own misery then every other woman will follow suit... They’ll have no choice. I’m the second most powerful woman in the world and I had no choice.” You say solemnly.

“Change is coming, princess.” Safia starts. “It is just… slow.”

“Look at your mother. Westeros had not seen a queen rule in her own right before her.” Rose says.

“At this rate, our children won’t even see a fair world.” You reply.

“But the later generations will benefit.” Safia says optimistically. “Prince Jacaerys will see that it is continued.”

“Yes… Jacaerys.” You murmur bitterly. “Is it so wrong that I want to benefit from it? More could be done.”

The girls ignore the slight against your mother and Rose speaks again, “It could take… unfathomable amounts of violence to accomplish such a thing.”

“Who cares for the lives of men who are unfaithful to their ruler?”

“And those men’s children, wives, families, are innocent but if you kill the head of their house, they would never forget it. They might not directly call for vengeance but most would resent a radical ruler. People of status rarely care for radicality. It diminishes their power.”

“Death would extinguish it.” You murmur. The girls know you aren’t truly serious but such laxness in reference to violence discomforts them. “Jacaerys will continue our mother’s progressions but that doesn’t make him any less of a man. He can’t truly understand.”

“I am sure Lady Baela will be of aid to him in that.” Safia adds thoughtfully.

But it could’ve been you aiding him. Though, the people would never chant your name the way they chant his.

“She will make a good queen one day.”

“Perhaps one day your brother will take you on as an advisor.” Rose suggests. She sees how badly you want control.

“If I’m not too busy tending to Stark’s children.” You scoff.

“They will be your children too, princess. I am sure you will love them as any mother loves their child.” Safia says kindly.

You ponder on her words for a moment, wondering if a mothers love if truly unconditional. Is there something inherent in childbirth that will make you fall in love with the babe that tears itself from your womb?

You’re not sure if you’ll ever love the children Cregan puts in your belly.

“Perhaps.” 

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[cozycottagetarot]

Quick Pick: Messages From Your Person

Hello, my loves! It's been way too long, but I'm finally back (hopefully for a long time) with a new reading as well as a bit of a rebrand. Today's reading is focused on messages from your person (kind of in the realm of a future spouse but generally a long-term partner) but I think for some of you it may come across as a current partner as well.

This is a pretty experimental reading for me. I want to start including an 'energy check' of sorts to help you better figure out if a pile is for you or not. I've done 'channelled' messages before but I felt weird about them so I've decided to give it a try again. The message aspect of this reading is just a free-flow writing of the cards that were pulled. And of course, I decided to play around a little bit more with my graphics. I'm always open to feedback, so I'd love to gather your thoughts on the set-up and reading itself.

Elle 🌿

P.S. I'm trying to re-do my masterlist but can't locate all my old pacs easily. If you come across one, I wouldn't mind if you send me the link. ��

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Disclaimer: When reading tarot, my aim is to focus on self-reflection and seeking guidance. The readings you'll find here are designed to add a pinch of fun and entertainment to your day. While I might sprinkle in some advice that hopefully vibes with you, please remember that these insights aren't a substitute for any professional advice you might need-- after all, you know your journey best! For any love-related or future-focused readings, consider them captivating musings exploring possibilities. Divination inspired stories even. I can't predict the future but I do hope to add some enjoyment and insights into your everyday. Lastly my darlings, please take from these readings what resonates with you most, be it some, all or none, and leave the rest. 🌟

PILE 1

Note: Pile 1 your pile gave me absolute hell the first time around 😭. I was writing/channelling the message and the energy literally just gave way at one point, I was flabbergasted 🫨. Anyway, the second pull was much clearer, but I included notes I felt were important from the first pull in the post-reading notes section.

Your Energy:

Going through an awakening. A need or call for self-reflection. A new cycle is beginning. You must face what you are running from within, but you must also be patient. Rely on your inner strength. Needing to learn more about yourself before doing/trying something different. Potentially finding yourself in part of a mentorship. Connecting with people similar to yourself. Navigating regrets. Needing to let go of the old you. Needing to ground yourself.  A strong energy of needing to look within yourself. It is time to prepare yourself for your next journey.

The Message:

Can you let the past go? We’ve been through so much, the both of us, on our own and together. Why do you hold on to it when our future is waiting for us? I know I hurt you and I apologize. You didn’t deserve any of the pain I caused you. I don’t blame you [it felt like there was a specific reason but I couldn’t get the specifics] but I feel lost without you. I could tell you why, I want to, but words mean nothing without action. You know my story. My relationship with my mother, how that shaped me. You know I love the attention of it all, having everyone’s eyes on me. Makes me feel good.. makes me feel. But no one else’s attention mattered like yours did. I felt most close to myself with you. Please, please let go of that version of me you’re holding onto in your head. I’m taking space because I need to heal. I need to heal my relationship with me first before I can heal it with us. This isn’t goodbye; just so long for now. I’m taking time to put that me in the past too and find myself and what I want from this life. I mean it’s simple really, I want you, us. I want to give you the good life you deserve, but I need to fix myself first. Give me the self-love I deserve.

Post-Reading Notes:

There’s a mature, sad regretful energy. Someone on a journey of self-exploration. Two hurting souls who met at the wrong time. One of you may be further along in your healing journey or you’ve both healed parts of yourself and your relationship that the other one hasn’t healed yet.

First Pull Notes:

One of the first things that came to mind for me is a dark night of the soul… I haven’t heard that term in so long and I’ve completely forgotten what it means, but for someone in this pile, I feel like that may resonate a lot. Going through a tough time. Blow after blow. Your higher self or inner wisdom is trying to reach you. Introspection before a new beginning. An ending of something you don’t want to let go of?

Big things are happening in your life, and significant changes are taking place even though it might not seem that way right now. Lots of air energy. Gaining mental clarity is super important for you right now. Breakup vibes? You two are like opposite sides or motivations of the same energy. Holding on when you know you should let go. This is definitely your person (one of the cards literally says ‘You’re my person’).

PILE 2

Your Energy:

For some of you are at the end of suffering but lying to yourself about the truth of the outcome, while for others you’re running from the mistakes made along the way. Maybe it's both. You’re still grieving all that is lost, be gentle with yourself. Hard work and consistency may await you but keep at it. Adventure is closer than you think. You’re on the brink of success. Moving forward hurts, but you must. Your person (or something you've been romanticising) is waiting for you. You just have to be brave enough to step through the gate. Opportunities are coming your way. If you're interested in floral hobbies or embroidery go for it.

The Message:

I hear you. I haven’t given up on you. I hear the songs you play for me, I hear the songs of your heart. You’re my love, my soulmate. We were meant to be, you and me. You’re not crazy or insane, or any other term you demean yourself with. You’re my everything. I can feel your soul even though we’re apart. If I close my eyes hard enough, I can feel you there. I can see your sparkling soul mirroring mine... sad eyes, bright smile, you leave me in awe. I know you call to me, and I’m sorry I’m not there. Don’t hate me for it, please. I’m leaving behind all that has been holding me back… the same as you. I’m sorry it’s so lonely. I want to meet. What do you say? Impromptu trip to the tropics? Somewhere cold? I just want to escape the world with you and lie in your arms. You’re my home. I sit in your energy and let it guide me your way. But I do need time. Please be patient with me. I haven’t abandoned you. I’m finding me, for you. I dream about you so often and being the kind of person you’d inspire me to be.

Post-Reading Notes:

"I need you to run to me, run to me, lover." (Run by Hozier, the chorus specifically. I know the song is supposed to be a metaphor but I'm suggesting it at face value). A very healing energy to your person's messages. Your person could also fantasise about you a lot... in a non-x-rated 18+ kind of way. It was mentioned on one of the cards but that part of the card felt awkward in the rest of the cards. They’re possessive, it doesn't seem like in a negative or extreme way but again, that's not something that was strong or clear. There’s something to do with the attention of others. They just want to be yours completely… Honestly, a submissive yet dominant kind of energy. A protector and/or provider (take that as you will) who is absolutely smitten with you and will do anything you say.

I don't typically read for it, but one of the cards had twin flame written on it. It could also be symbolic of mirroring each other in your personal journeys in life.

PILE 3

Your Energy:

Powerful yet solitary energy. A new chapter of your life. Accomplishing a big goal. Moving to a new location. Creating a good foundation for yourself in preparation for what comes next. Balancing your energies. Sleep issues. Struggling with anxiety or managing thoughts after a traumatic event. Celebration. Having security. Authoritarian role or vibes.

The Message:

Okay, I can do this: I can’t get you off of my mind. I’m constantly thinking of you, viewing your content, trying to set myself up to run into you. I know it’s silly, especially since you hurt me. Who pines after the person that hurt them? Well, it wasn't meant to be mean. You’re just so mysterious I can’t ever read you and it or you make me nervous. I’m always worrying about what to say. I want to talk to you but opening up to others is hard. I’m afraid I’ll start crying or you’ll hear my voice crack. You’re my person. I’m sure of it. You’re everything I’ve hoped for in a person, everything I dream about before I go to sleep at night. You’re doing so well for yourself, but I want to spoil you and be there for you. Not always materially. I know you can cover that for yourself. But being there for you and spending time with you… I heard you were seeing someone. I hope it’s not true and even if it is, I hope it doesn't last. No, I’m not sorry. I’m going to work up the courage to reach out to you soon.

Post-Reading Notes:

Oh Pile 3, you’re so intimidating to your person. Secret admirer vibes. I definitely think you’ve got a very serious or professional energy and an intimidating appearance. That may especially be true if you’re taller than average for your demographic/s. The energies here feel very balanced or neutral (not heavily feminine or masculine) on both your end and theirs.

PILE 4

Your Energy:

Such a beautiful light-hearted energy. There’s such a beautiful and hopeful energy in this relationship here but it’s also possible someone or something is working against you right now. A very important decision is being made. Someone could be trying to take something from you, but keep going. You’ve got this incredible power/energy to you. Vows are super important, be it making them with someone else or making a vow to yourself to gain or achieve something. Collaboration. Having everything you need to succeed. There could be challengers coming your way but you're strong enough to overcome them.

The Message:

I’m sorry. I don’t know, that was immature of me. I swear it wasn’t like you thought but don’t worry I’m going to do better. Honest. You know, I dream about us being together and growing old. I dream about our kids. They’re so stinking cute. We’ve still got growing to do, ok, or I’ve still got growing to do. Please talk to me. You know I hate it when you give me the silent treatment. I know I disappeared on you and that wasn’t cool. I just get so… I care about you a lot. I don’t want to see you hurt. I want the best for you. I know I act all big and bad but I’m a softie at heart. That fight was weird. I don’t like it. It wasn’t like us. It meant nothing I know. Would you pack up and run away with me if I asked? I hate the distance between us right now. Im always listening to our playlist. I know I acted like I'm uninterested in something serious but I am. I want you. I miss you. I want to spoil you and give you everything you deserve. Just give me a chance. Please hear me out.

Post-Reading Notes:

The vibes while doing the reading felt like very young vibes? There’s a youthfulness there. Someone who either is actually young in age or hasn’t grown up emotionally in a certain aspect. It felt like they did something prideful that was hurtful to you and you two are in a disconnect during the moment captured in the reading. It didn’t feel like a serious fight. More so when you’re upset with someone and acting like you’re madder than you really are (your vibes) and the other person is sweating and begging you to talk to them again (their vibes).

Also, idk why but Peter Parker kept coming into my head 🕸️. I’m not feeling to analyse it so take it as you will.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

you should post screenshots of all the marvel rivals magneto lore for those of us who don’t have the game 👀

"Max Eisenhardt was born with a near-limitless Mutant ability to manipulate magnetic fields. Suffering a lifetime of brutal persecution, Magneto made it his mission to ensure the survival of Mutantkind, no matter the cost. His unyielding crusade often puts him at odds with other Mutants who seek more peaceful ways to coexist with humanity. Magneto led the campaign to gather the planet's Mutant population and transport them decades into the future to a safe haven on the sentient island Krakoa, protecting his brethren from the growing dangers of the wider world."

magneto lore description + his signature :) i'll come back to reblog and add to this post as the rest of the stories are unlocked!

full Trial of Magneto story below the cut screenshotted AND typed up by Yours Truly

As he gazed off into the distance towards the line where the ocean met the sky, Magneto's cape fluttered gently in the calm breeze that was drifting across the coast of the sentient island nation of Krakoa. His was a life far longer than most people ever had the chance to live, and this was one of the few moments of true peace that he could recall. But he knew from experience it would not last for long. It never did.

"Something on your mind, old man?" a familiar voice asked from above, breaking the silence. As Magneto glanced up, there, hovering on the wind like a majestic goddess, was Ororo Munroe -- the Mutant weather manipulator known as Storm.

"Funny, isn't it," mused Magneto, "that we fought all those years for a better future for Mutantkind... and now we have finally found it, further in the future than any of us ever imagined."

Not so long ago, the sovereign nation of Krakoa had been swept up in a chronal storm -- a time-twisting anomaly that would have ripped the island to bits if not for Ororo's deft manipulation of its tumultuous currents. Instead of becoming lost in the timestream forever, Krakoa arrived safely on the other side of the tempest in the year 2099. The future that Mutantkind had always dreamed of was finally theirs to claim. And Magneto was never one to let such an auspicious opportunity pass him by.

"It matters not what century we are in," Storm said. "What matters is that our people have a home here on Krakoa, thanks to you, Erik..."

Magneto cringed as his old friend called him by his human name. True, he had gone by many of them over the decades -- Max Eisenhardt, Erik Lehnsherr, Magnus -- but they were monikers he had merely tolerated in order to better fit into a world where Homo Sapiens still believed themselves in control. Here, in this new era, he could choose a name that spoke to who he truly was. Magneto -- the Mutant Master of Magnetism.

"I may be leading the cause to find our fellow Mutants and bring them to this safe harbor, my dear," said Magneto, "but the success of this crusade cannot be attributed to one Mutant alone."

"You're damn right it can't, bub," a grizzled voice snarled from the edge of the jungle that bordered Krakoa's shore.

Magneto and Storm both turned to see a familiar figure walking out of a newly-blossomed Krakoan gate. The short, hairy figure looked as though he had just been to hell and back. And knowing Wolverine, that could very literally be the case. Alongside Wolverine stood a young Mutant, just old enough for her powers to begin manifesting.

"Found the kid who got sucked through that dimensional rift," Wolverine continued. "She's lucky I went in there after her. Limbo is no place for a new Mutant."

"I couldn't disagree more," another voice said, this one with a hint of a Russian accent. "This New Mutant has managed just fine there."

"Illyana? Can it truly be?!" Storm rushed over to the young woman who had just stepped through the gateway, instantly wrapping her in an embrace. For years, Illyana Rasputin, the Mutant teleporter known as Magik, had been like a daughter to Storm. Before she was claimed by the darkness of Limbo... Before...

"Nice to see you too, Windrider," said Magik with an uncomfortable smirk. "It's been... longer than I care to remember."

Magneto stepped towards the new arrival, not embracing her, but examining her closely instead. There was something strange about her. It was clear that she had walked a far different path than the Illyana Rasputin of his world. This child had been hardened by the horrors of war, something to which Magneto himself could closely relate.

"You are not the child we once knew," Magneto said. "But you are welcome here on Krakoa. All Mutants are, regardless from where or when they hail."

"How about people who grew up thinking they were Mutants, only to h ave their entire world turned upside down when they learned the truth years later...?"

Magneto audibly gasped as the question was asked by another woman who had just arrived through the Krakoan gateway. His gaze instantly shifted over to her as she walked forward. Her every step stirred ripples across his memory, for he had been there when she had taken her very first ones so many years ago.

"Wanda..."

"Hello, father," the Scarlet Witch said as she approached Magneto with a calm confidence that few had ever shown in his presence. She reached up and began to slowly remove Magneto's helmet, an action that would almost certainly be met with instant retaliation should anyone else attempt it. But Magneto stood as silent as solid steel, simply basking in the magic of his long lost daughter's company. His stoic expression softened as Wanda leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"How... How can you be here?" Magneto managed to say. He could bend Adamantium into any shape with his Mutant power, but these simple words were somehow nearly impossible to form.

"It took a bit of work," Wanda mused. "I'm not technically a Mutant like you, after all, which means Krakoa wouldn't normally let me through its gates. But a touch of chaos magic did the trick."

"What I meant to say is..."

"Oh..." Wanda's playful tone vanished faster than a stage magician's pet rabbit. "Your Wanda... She's gone, isn't she? I'm sorry... This must be difficult..."

"Quite the opposite," Magneto said, regaining his composure. "To see your face again, to hear your voice, to know that -- somewhere in this fast Multiverse a version of you has thrive -- is perhaps the least difficult thing I could ever conceive. It is all that any father ever wants."

"I wouldn't say I've been thriving, exactly," Wanda admitted. "I've been holding my own universe together by its threads for far too long. I truly believed that I was its only hope to survive."

"Like father, like daughter," chuckled Wolverine.

"But I've started to see the bigger picture," Wanda continued. "We're all fighting our own wars. The only chance we have of winning them and keeping ll of our universes intact is if we start fighting together."

"Speakin' of fightin', I'm late for a date with Natasha," Wolverine said. "We've got ourselves a tin-plated dictator that needs overthrowin'."

Magneto almost chastised Wolverine for entrenching himself in the petty squabbles between the humans of this era, but he paused for a moment and considered his daughter's words. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps his own war to preserve Mutantkind was just one battle of many, all of them equally important.

"Since Krakoa arrived in this future, my allegiance has been to Mutantkind alone," said Magneto. "I felt it best to isolate our people in order to protect them. But your words inspire me, my dear. It is clear that no Mutant is an island."

"Except Krakoa, da?" Magik chimed in playfully.

"In order to commit to such an alliance, however, it must be a mutually beneficial one," Magneto continued. "There are still Mutants out there, lost across space and time, who require out assistance in order to lead them home."

"That sounds like the perfect task for a Sorceress Supreme," Wanda said. "But I'll require your help. As fond as I am of your classic look, I think we're in need of use a helmet that's a bit more functional."

"Of course," Magneto said, raising his hand into the air. Within moments, tiny scraps of metal buried beneath the sand of Krakoa's beaches converged and reshaped themselves in a complex yet familiar device once worn by Charles Xavier himself -- Cerebro.

"If I recall, old school Cerebro was capable of tracking down Mutants anywhere in the world," said Wanda. "But a few arcane enhancements should expand the helmet's search area to include adjacent dimensions as well. Like you said, all Mutants are welcome here, regardless from where or when they hail."

"Well?" said Magik, her eyes burning with anticipation. "Try it on already, old man!"

The moment Magneto put on the helmet, he saw flashes of powerful Mutants scattered across the Multiverse. A telepathic ninja trapped in a strange world of unholy amusements. A king of the seas preparing to strike at the unsuspecting surface world. A powerful cosmic presence determined to burn the darkness out of the night sky. And thousands more, each yearning to defy fate and to find their place in an ever-shifting cavalcade of timelines and realities.

"There is much work to be done," Magneto said. "Far more than I expected. When do we begin?"

"No time better than the present..." said Magik. "Or the future, I guess. Wherever we are."

"You have given Mutants a gift this day, Wanda," Magneto said proudly. "Your efforts will not be forgotten."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Wanda replied. "And when the time comes, the army that you're about to gather may very well be the one that tips the balance in our favor."

"Then let this be a call to all Mutants across time and space," Magneto continued. "The gates of Krakoa are open to them. In the words of a dear old friend..."

"...to me, my X-Men."

[haapy]

Are You Sure?! Reception and toxic influences in ARMY spaces

I wanted to post this under a specific Youtube reaction chanel, but I got cold feet.. This is something I wanted to scream out loud for so long, so I wrote it off my chest just to feel better and pasted my rant here for probably no one to read haha.

___________________________________________________________

Surprisingly lot of people seem to have a problem when it comes to Jimin & Jungkook together (alone), they just don't want to see them together for some reason or prefer when another member joins them. No one wished other members to join when V did In The Soop with Wooga, no one complained about collabs between Agust-D and J-Hope or J-Hope and JK, However they accused Jimin of using JK for clout when he did the background vocals of his HIDDEN Track "Letter" on his FACE album. Now they accuse him of using JK to promote his Album MUSE with AYS. Is it possible for ARMY's to appreciate what Jimin & Jungkook give you without throwing awful hate, thowing their bond under the bus or wishing the content to be with another member or adding member X?

Let me explain...

I've come across numerous false and misleading allegations on various YouTube channels regarding Jimin, Jungkook, and those who appreciate their bond.

You’ll encounter individuals who vehemently argue against the clearly special connection between these two members, downplaying their bond and insisting that all relationships within the group are the same. This perspective is unrealistic; while all the members love each other, each of their individual bonds is unique. At the same time, these individuals emphasize the closeness between V and Jungkook, attempting to influence new ARMYs and reactors, while labeling those who cherish Jimin and Jungkook's bond as the most toxic shippers. However, anyone familiar with ARMY spaces knows that the most toxic shipper group is not made up of those who support Jimin and Jungkook. In fact, they represent only a small portion of the fandom. If this weren't the case, you wouldn’t see so many comments on YouTube trying to downplay their closeness.

Many ARMYs who aren’t involved in shipping spaces, don’t bias Jimin, or don’t pay attention to these dynamics, may lump all shippers together. However, there are significant differences between the various shipping groups.

It’s important to recognize that every shipping community can have toxic elements. However, one prominent group, which makes up around 75% (or even more) of the ARMY fandom, consistently discriminates against the bond between Jimin and Jungkook, particularly targeting Jimin with hate and disrespecting Jungkook. It’s misleading to claim that all shipping groups are equally toxic when one is rooted in genuine chemistry and real moments, while another is fueled by conspiracy theories portraying one member as a harassing figure and the other as a manipulated puppet, liar, and spiteful partner.

This issue dates back to when Jungkook released his first GCF in Tokyo featuring Jimin. Suddenly, YouTube channels emerged, gaining millions of views by manipulating their viewers with the most disgusting and deceptive narratives, portraying Jimin as a homewrecker, attention seeker, and even a sexual harasser.

If you frequent ARMY spaces and pay attention to Jimin report sites, you will see the most horrible things said about him. I'm well aware of solo stans and hate against other members, especially within the Maknae line, but none of it compares to the sheer amount of hate and vileness directed at Jimin, who endures the most horrific defamation, sexual harassment, and death threats on a daily basis, primarily because of this specific group of shippers, other vile solo groups and homophobes.

Even before the announcement of Jimin and Jungkook enlisting together via the buddy system became public, groups of the fandom accused Jimin of sexually harassing Jungkook and promoting the "gay agenda," putting Jimin at risk of being imprisoned under Article 92-6 of the Military Penal Code, which categorizes all sexual acts between members of the same gender as "sexual assault and/or harassment." They even tagged Korea's Ministry of Defense thousands of times, making it trend on X, which resulted in ministry officials having to step in. (This is no joke, I collected screenshots for proof).

Even today, some people deny that Jimin and Jungkook enlisted together, instead pushing their ship agenda or claiming that they aren’t close. It’s baffling to see the strong reactions they provoke, which should be telling enough.

New ARMYs, be careful who you listen to. If you aren’t involved in any ARMY spaces on social media, ONLY LISTEN TO THE BOYS and consume original content. You can make up your own mind. Conspiracies aren’t limited to politics; they exist in K-Pop too.

[pumpkins-journal]

✮ When He Smiles ✮

gn!reader x choso (can be platonic or pre-relationship)

You're curious about how the man could be so expressive, and yet... (Pure fluff n vibes)

inspired by that one panel of embarrassed choso and the thought of him sending dog stickers w a straight face just tickles me

also posting this on mobile bc im impatient so sorry its a bit ugly looking aUGH i might fix it when i get home (update i fixed it a lil)

Choso was an enigma to you. When you talk to him he'd have an aura of indifference about everything around him. He always seemed so… detached. Even with pestering his dear half-brother to call him big brother, the only semblance of excitement he'd show was a slight pitch in tone laced with a firm insistence.

Which is why you'd be caught off guard when you’d start communicating via text. You’d double-take at the cute emojis attached to his messages, the occasional puppy stickers meeting your gaze. 

you: choso is that a dog choso: Yes. Yuji taught me how to send these stickers. Do you like them? you: yea i do! choso: I'm glad. I'll be sure to keep using them then. 😄 choso: He also taught me how emojis work.

It was especially curious when you’d find yourself looking over his shoulder, watching him respond to his little brother in the same manner- emojis, stickers and all- and your eyes would trail up to see that same deadpanned look on his face. Once he returned your gaze, you leaned back, face warm with embarrassment.

“Ah, sorry. Was I too close?” you asked. 

“No, you’re fine.” Choso shook his head before showing his screen. “Yuji was showing me a trailer for a movie he'd like to see. It's supposed to be about the lives of people, their relationship with the creatures in their world and teamwork.” You looked down at the screen, watching a scene of a young boy with a small yellow mouse-like creature.

“I think I may like this one. He reminds me of Yuji.”

You couldn't help but smile at this.

“You really love your brother, huh?”

“I do.” he lowered the phone as the video played. “I love all of my brothers equally and as deeply. As the oldest, it's my duty to protect them and care for them.”

“Hmm.” you mused as you sat next to him while he replied to the messages. You stared out into the fields before you and leaned back, the silence keeping you company.

“Hey, Choso?”

“Hm?”

You tapped your finger against the bench, trying to form the question in your head.

“I've noticed that you don't… really emote much? Not outside of fighting, I mean. Not that that's a bad thing! I was just curious.”

“Hm.”

The silence made you acutely aware of an uncomfortable pit in your stomach, already regretting asking a question that probably drew more attention to how different he was.

Something you already know he struggles with.

“Hey, uh, you don't have to answer–”

“I'm not the best at expressing myself.”

You paused, tilting your head at him in surprise. His face was still focused on the screen.

“Emotions are draining. It takes so much energy to smile, to cry, to laugh. I can feel it all, and I embrace it– it helps me feel the slightest bit human, but it's hard to convey that. I'm aware oftentimes it makes me come across as uncaring, so I'm thankful for learning about emojis and stickers. Hopefully they can get across my feelings better when I talk to others.”

He turned to you, head tilted ever so slightly.

“Sorry if you’ve been uncomfortable all this time.”

“What- no!” You waved a hand. “It’s not a big deal, I was just curious! It kinda makes sense in a way, lots of people are like that.”

“..Are they?” You didn't miss how his eyes widened just a touch at this. You nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, some people can speak their mind, while others struggle. It's just a part of being human, I think. It doesn't make you weird or anything like that! Y'know, Nanami also tends to be straight faced, it adds to his vibe.”

“Yes, but I'm also aware that his 'vibes' make him incompatible outside of sorcery work. He doesn't seem to like to entertain Yuji or the other children when they're having fun, unlike Gojo.”

“What, do you wanna be like Gojo then?”

You watched as his face scrunched up in response, the line across his nose becoming uneven.

“I would rather be exorcised, actually.”

You paused at this before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Choso watched as joyful tears rolled down your cheeks, grin stretching from ear to ear. The mark on his nose settled into a warmer, more bubby form as a gentle smile appeared on his face.

A smile that you caught as you opened your eyes, your heart skipping a beat.

“..Hey, Choso?”

“Mh-hm?”

Your smile softened as well, cheeks tingling from your earlier outburst.

“You have a very handsome smile.”

The male tensed at this, covering his face as he turned away. You grinned at his bashfulness, nudging him slightly.

“Oh, c'mon! Can't take a compliment?” you teased, watching his ears turn a few shades darker. He tried to shoo you away with his free hand, only succeeding in making your playful bullying more insistent.

Expressionless or not, you knew that when Choso felt things, he felt them with everything he had.

That being said, you made sure to treasure the memory of his smile for the rest of your days, a rare treat for you and you only.

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter Two

Chapter Two! We have some good cute fluff because it's gonna start getting angsty after this chapter, so prepare for that. But for now, we have some wholesome interactions between y/n and the boys. For anyone that saw this posted before, no you didn't.

a.k.a., I may have had to make a couple changes to it after it went live that I forgot about haha

Masterlist

word count: 1.8k

warnings: food, canon skz chaos, I think that's it

Y/n woke up slowly, feeling a bit disoriented. She felt whatever was beneath her shifting, before she heard an Aussie accent. 

“Good morning sunshine.” She heard, opening her eyes to see Chan looking down at her.

“Huh? What the fuck? That wasn’t a dream?” She mused out loud, forgetting that she wasn’t thinking about it. She heard laughter coming from across the room, finding Changbin and Han bent over laughing.

“This isn’t a dream, we promise you. Now, do you wanna sit up?” Chan asked her, to which she nodded. With his help, she sat up and moved to sit against the back of the couch. 

“You can stop laughing at me, god dammit. It wasn’t that funny.” She lightly glared at the two men. It really wasn’t that funny, honestly, she was ready to slap them. If only they were in reach of her.

“Guys, chill out, please.” Chan scolds the two members, raising an eyebrow at them. The boys apologized to Y/n, bowing and saying sorry to her. She waved away their apologies, telling them it was fine. She really didn’t mind, but it’s still not fun to get laughed at.

“So, where do we go from here?” Y/n spoke up, wondering what would happen now. It may not have been the ideal soulmate meeting, but obviously fate didn’t care about that. There may not have been a big outward sign that they were, but she had never felt more at ease with anyone else ever. Even prior girlfriends she had, that she almost thought were her soulmates, never made her feel this right as these eight boys were right now.

“Well, seeing as you landed right in our laps, and also Binnie has our initials plus one more set, and once we match yours up with the last initial, I’d say you’re our soulmate. We can figure everything else out from there.” Chan said, taking charge of the situation. 

Y/n told them all her full name, and her initials matched up with the last set on Binnie’s arm. This prompted Felix to come over and hug her, whispering in her ear how much he’s glad to have found their last soulmate. He laid his head on her shoulder, his arms still wrapped around her, not letting go of her now that she’s here.

All of the boys’ phones went off, pushing them to check and see who’s messaging. Hyunjin groaned, “Ugh, we have to head back to dance practice, they’re looking for us.” He told the rest of them. This prompted many complaints and cries, the boys not wanting to leave their newest soulmate yet. 

“How long do you have to practice? I can just stay here, honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I have my phone and I can entertain myself till you all return.” Y/n said, smiling up at them. She didn’t mind being by herself for a little while, it would give her some time to process everything that’s happened.

“If we’re lucky, an hour? Depends on how much of a hardass Minho-hyung is today.” Hyunjin replied to her, not managing to dodge the slap from the aforementioned person. He rubbed his shoulder, feeling the pain from the hit.

“Yah! I don’t want to be away from our soulmate either, but keep it up like that and I’ll make you practice for hours.” Minho snapped back at Hyunjin, looking annoyed.

“Okay, let’s chill out, okay? No need to get violent.” Chan tried to pacify the situation, and thankfully it worked

The boys begrudgingly packed up, Minho leaning in close to Hyunjin as they left, telling him that he’d make a nice snack after 20 minutes in the airfryer at 180 degrees. Y/n laughed as she watched them leave, before moving to sit against the armrest, getting comfortable. She decided to think about her situation later, and grabbed her phone, opening up tiktok and scrolling the time away.

An hour later…

Y/n hadn’t realized how much time had passed, and when the door to the studio opened, she jumped and threw her phone up into the air, as she panicked. She however, managed to not fall off the couch, but her heart was running a thousand miles a minute as she tried to calm down. She held onto her chest, looking at the door to see the entirety of the group standing in the doorway, a couple of them trying to hold back their laughter, as others looked concerned. 

“Could give a girl a bit of a heads up, yeah?” She said to them, a bit over the panic.

“We didn’t think you’d be that absorbed into whatever you were doing, honestly.” Chan replied to her, moving to grab her phone from where it had been thrown, and bringing it over to her. 

She sat up, letting Chan sit down next to her. “That’s fair. I didn’t realize an hour had passed, to tell you the truth. But that’s because I’m bad at telling how much time has passed.” She explained. She truly had very little concept of time. She could look at the clock and five hours had passed when it only felt like it had maybe been an hour. It was one of her greatest weaknesses.

“Don’t worry, some of them get like that too.” Felix piped up, moving closer and sitting on the arm of the couch. “Chan especially, the man works and zones out while doing so.” He continued.

“Yeah, and the rest of 3racha are the same way.” Hyunjin pointed out, to which Han hit his arm. 

“Yah, we’re not that bad!” He shouted, pouting afterwards. His little quokka cheeks made an appearance as he did that.

“I don’t think I believe that.” Y/n told Han. 

He continued pouting, even his newest soulmate was being so mean. He couldn’t believe it, and there were giggles from his other soulmates, showing that they were on her side, not his.

“Well now that you’re all back, and I assume free from idol duties for a little while, I’d like to talk about where we go from here, now that we’ve confirmed I’m your last soulmate.” Y/n spoke up, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.

“Well, I think the first thing to discuss is how prepared you are to be the soulmate of eight other people, who I assume live very far away from where you are from?” Felix asked her.

“Well, considering that I’m from Canada, that’s not horribly far, but still a bit farther than I think is reasonable. So I think I’d be moving here, and not the other way round.” She told them, starting to think about the logistics of moving here.

“Ah, yeah. You’d have to move here, but we can help you with every step you need to take. We wouldn’t leave you to do it all alone.” Chan turned to look at her. “We’d have to move into a bigger place too, unless you’d want your own space?” He continued.

“I wouldn’t mind either option, really.”

“Okay, that’s fine, we can sit down with management and get that figured out. They can also help us look for a place for you as well, just as an option.” Chan said.

Y/n nodded, fine with that. She wasn’t picky, it really wasn’t a big deal to her where she’d be living. She’d just be happy to be near her soulmates, honestly.

Everyone went silent as Y/n’s stomach grumbled, the girl herself curling in on herself to try and hide. 

“And maybe now is a good time for food.” Felix said.

“I’m hungry!” Changbin shouted, making a couple of the boys chuckle.

Chan stood up, holding a hand out to Y/n, who took it as she stood up as well. He pulled her along as they followed the rest of the boys towards the JYPE cafeteria, as it was the easiest place to get actual food. It thankfully wasn’t that packed when they arrived, and the boys quickly picked out their food, while Chan helped her decide on what she wanted. She went for some tteokbokki, and the other boys decided that they didn’t mind sharing bites of what they chose, so that nothing was wasted if she didn’t like it

Y/n tried bites of everyone’s food, and enjoyed most of it, with a couple exceptions. Despite that, everyone enjoyed their lunch, and after everyone finished and cleaned up the table, they all headed back up to their practice room, deciding it was a better place to talk than squeezing into the studio.

“So, obviously we have to tell management about this, and also figure out how long you can stay here before heading back to pack up your stuff.” Minho spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, and I have to talk to my university and try and get that figured out as well. I’m almost finished with my degree, so I’d like to actually finish it off fully.” Y/n told them.

Wows came from a couple of the younger boys, and Y/n blushed a bit. 

“What do you study?” Seungmin asked her.

“History is my major in university.” She told them, proceeding to tell them some of the subjects she’s studied within history. She talked more about her favorite periods or topics to study, after the boys asked some questions about what in history she enjoyed and why she decided to study it as a degree.

The group continued talking about their own hobbies and other things they’d like to do in life, as Chan moved to check his and the others schedules, as well as notifying management that they needed to have a meeting. He found their schedules to have been cleared for the day, after he got a response from management that they could have the meeting in 30 minutes. 

“Well, good news and maybe good news?” Chan piped up, everyone else going silent, waiting to hear the news. “So, we now have a free schedule for the remainder of the day, but we also have a meeting with management in 30 minutes.” He finished. 

A round of groans commenced at Chan’s announcement, as the boys dreaded the meeting with the managers. Y/n looked around in confusion, wondering why they were reacting this way. 

“What’s so bad about the meeting?” She asked, tilting her head slightly in confusion.

“They’re not fans of the bureaucracy of being an idol, so they dread meetings with our managers and team.” Chan explained, rolling his eyes at the boys’ antics.

“Ohhh.” She understood now, it made sense that the whole bureaucracy of being an idol would be boring. She herself didn’t enjoy those things either, let alone how much of this administrative stuff goes on in the background of idol agencies.

The boys decided to go change into something a little less casual for their meeting, and thankfully, the boys had something that she could fit into. It wasn’t much, but it fit and didn’t look horrible on her, so that was what counted. They just joked around and the boys fought playfully until about five minutes till the meeting, when they all headed up to where the meeting was to take place, where they arrived just in time. Chan did a head count, before he pushed and held the door open for all of us to enter.

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Taglist: @queen-thiccness

[spotsandsocks]

Tumblr story time

Now you may not be interested but I was thinking it might be interesting to share how we all got stuck in here and tell the story of how you ended up as the tumblr blog you are today .I’ll go first 💜

Joined tumblr, 2015 looked around, thought hmmm a lot of people have very intense feelings about Sherlock and left. I suspect this might be the superwholock phase I hear tell of.

Time passed, I tried again, now there are two guys on my dash. A lot. Firefighters?

One of them did something the other one is forgiving him. People are quite invested in this. Maybe I can watch it somewhere, no.. not available here… but more gifs of them turn up, hope I don’t get dragged into something … no I can resist this … then the well scene hit my dash and well that was that for me. Then 911 came to a TV near me…

So I lurk and I move from McDanno to buddie tags on ao3, I read, kudos but I don’t comment, too shy to do that. I lurk some more on tumblr then I start liking, then reblogging and then summer 2021 I write something and put it on ao3 (it’s then I start to commet on fics because I understand what it means to get a comment now.) I post my fics on my blog.

A few more followers turn up which is exciting then I get tagged in a writing game and I’m off. My stuff, your stuff… Reblog reblog reblog, followers go up… Get braver start sending asks (anon) get braver and go off anon… make some friends sharing some more, more followers, more sharing more fun.

So I’m still a very small part of the fandom not a big blog in any way I think but now I’m spotty to my pocket pals, and people I’ll never meet think of me when they see dragons- and that makes me so happy. I have strangers I care about across the world and can make smile by sending a silly picture or an ask or just saying hi. It’s fun and I like it very much. The world is brighter because I ended up here and said hello to some of you and you said hello back. Thank you my lovelies.

My blog is now 60% 911, 20% sci-fi stuff and 10% randomness and the last little bit is the strange and peculiar musing of the spotty one herself . I have somehow gathered more followers than I ever expected and written nearly a million words of fanfic in 3 years.

How remarkable! How wonderful.

So here I am and I’d love to hear about your blogging journey if you want to share tag me in or just come say hi. Never be worried about coming to say hello to me, I adore it.

I know some people are on hiatus so no pressure but tagging you just in case (sorry if I missed you 😔)

@shortsighted-owl @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @thekristen999 @steadfastsaturnsrings

@inell @shipperqueen6 @rogerzsteven @underwaterninja13 @bekkachaos

@hippolotamus @bi-buckrights @djdangerlove @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck

@theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @buffaluff @honestlydarkprincess @daffi-990 @diazsdimples

@the-likesofus @eddiebabygirldiaz @thewolvesof1998 @hoodie-buck @ronordmann

@bidisasterevankinard @wikiangela @weewootruck @rainbow-nerdss

@tizniz @actualalligator @loveyouanyway @bewilderedbuckley @caroandcats

@elvensorceress @repressedqueen @jesuisici33 @exhuastedpigeon @lover-of-mine

@stagefoureddiediaz @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @spaceprincessem @pirrusstuff

[drones-of-innocence]

Hi,

The TL;DR of this post is this will no longer be a Mario blog, and I won't be participating in any kind of fandom here anymore.

This is for anyone who keeps tabs on me for any reason, but specifically my fanfiction I guess. I'm a writer so this will be a little long winded lol, but feel free to read what you want.

First I want to thank everyone who kept up with and read my story I'll Never Let You Go. At the time of writing, it was my best work and existed quietly in my drafts for seven or eight years as I built and built it up. It's the longest story I have ever completed, the eclipse of my skills and experiences at a time when all I wanted was to carry across a story about star-crossed lovers while I myself longed for such a fairytale love. While publishing, I invited artists to participate in a small challenge, which resulted in these lovely posts (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8), and set the stage beautifully for me to reveal the major twist of the story. I thank everyone who participated in making that moment so special for me. I'm very proud of the story and how it turned out after all this time. But I'm ready to move onto greater things.

And to anyone who has read any of my other works, thank you. My muse is an impulsive creature and I followed it toward many stories which sometimes had strange methods behind them but ultimately turned into projects I could be proud of. It means the world that my random explorations met any kind of audience with such positive reception.

Fandom has become a problem for me. What used to feel relaxed and creatively exciting now feels like a source of pressure. I caved into it once or twice and posted stories or art or whatever in the past specifically designed to heighten attention or exposure to my work. It never worked quite like I thought and always made me feel a little gross afterward. I may erase these works once I track them down. But now the pressure isn't even creative, it's become more or less of a social performance for me which I am not willing to participate in anymore.

So from now on, I'm going to blog what I want to and write whatever comes to me. Mario or not, fanwork or not. There are still some Mario stories mostly done that I want to share and I may do that in my own time, but it will not be with any intention except to please myself.

I think I'm moving towards more original ideas. There are fan concepts I want to finish out, and if I do it will take time.

Anyway. If any of this doesn't resonate with you, that's fine. Most of my stories will remain up and I'm happy to interact regarding those, but otherwise I would appreciate to not be included in the fandom community on Tumblr anymore. I'll hopefully occasionally find the will to browse for fanfic myself, though lately I haven't been much in the mood to read it. Feel free to unfollow or block or whatever you need to do. I wish you luck. I'm looking forward to being more active on my terms.

Thank you 💙

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Professional Indiscretion

Inspired by this post

Warnings: non/dubcon, degradation, demeaning behaviour, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki Laufeyson

Summary: a colleague returns from a recent vacation but is less than relaxed.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’ve honed the skill of indifference long ago. The voices that carry from down the hall meld together in a dull buzz as you push them to the back of your mind. You’re less concerned with the latest water cooler gossip as your deadline bears down on you. 

You hate when a project comes down to the line. It couldn’t be helped. What should have been a two-person assignment was dropped solely in your lap. It isn’t the first time and won’t be the last. Your colleagues are less than reliable. 

As their voices glaze over each other, you shrug of your resent. They all have their obligations; golf rounds or the windfall of courtside tickets. You’ve never been afforded the luxury of a half-day to go play. You are the dependable one; as far as your coworkers are concerned, you have nothing going on besides picking up their slack. 

Work is work. You don’t linger on it; you just get it done. A peel of laughter jars you from your focus. You should close your door but that’s just an invitation. The last time, they simply moved in front of your door and spoke even louder. It’s like a game to them. 

Caroline’s bubbly laughter trills down the hall. She’s joined the rabble. One of the young temps the men love to flirt with. ‘Oh it makes me feel young again.’ Ugh, you couldn’t imagine turning the clock back twenty years. You’re happy that era of your life is over. 

You squint at the monitor and review your work. There’s a subtle tap on your doorframe. Your flicks up and back down. Loki. 

“Yes, how can I help you?” You ask as your fingers flutter over the keyboard. 

“Good afternoon to you too,” he drawls as he breaks the threshold. 

“Afternoon,” you continue to type. You try not to think of how this was meant to be his project. 

“I’m only doing my rounds. As you know, I was recently abroad and I brought back some sweets,” he crosses your office and sets a blurry object down in your peripheral. 

“That’s generous, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.” You say. 

“You’re welcome,” he overrides your protest. 

You sniff, “thanks.” 

He’s quiet as he stands across from you. His gaze hangs over you like a dark cloud. You check the auto-save and retract your hands. You push your shoulders back and look at him. 

“You were the only who didn’t come out to congratulate me,” he muses. 

You sit straight. You are not unkind or inconsiderate. You just don’t come to work to socialize. You signed the card they sent with the flowers. 

“Congratulations on your wedding. It seems it was a success,” you say. 

He doesn’t react right away. He just stares at you. His green eyes are sharp and his lips a thin line. It isn’t the ego stroking he was looking for. You’re not quite sure what more to say. You’re not very familiar. 

He scoffs, “I see.” 

You blink, confused by the derision in his tone. You look at him past your monitor as he slowly pivots on his heel. It scuffs loudly and he marches to the door. He stops right before it then delicate grabs the handle and draws it shut. 

You tilt your head curiously, “I’m just finishing up a project, so I don’t have very much time--” 

“You’ve always been a dry old spinster, haven’t you?” He slithers as he faces you again. 

“Pardon?” You’re genuinely stunned by his accusation. It’s not the first time you’ve met with that sort of spite. There is a contempt reserved only for older women. 

“Yes, you strut around here as if you are a queen. Above us all, and I come to you with a token of good will, a souvenir from my honeymoon, and it only reminds you of how utterly pathetically alone you truly are,” he sneers. “So you offer me that trite look and your empty tiding.” 

You scrunch your lips in surprise and cup your hand in confusion, “nothing of the like. I’m sorry, I am rather busy with my work--” 

“Oh but this isn’t just today. It’s how it’s always been. You cannot be happy for anyone for your own misery,” he tuts. 

“If that’s what you think,” you sit back calmly. “I think you should go.” 

He lingers on the other side of your desk, “it’s because she’s young, I know it.” 

“What?” 

“My new wife. I see how it makes you bristle to know a man of your peerage couldn’t be bothered with you. You see, women age differently. They become bitter.” He snarls. 

“I hardly see how this is appropriate. I am asking you to go--” 

He sets his stance and lowers himself into the chair across from you. He smirks and pushes back his dark curls. Your spine locks up. That look in his eye, you’ve seen that in men before. 

“I know what the matter is,” he pushes his feet wide and grips his thighs. He postures so his shoulders are wide and high. “How long has it been?” 

You refuse to acknowledge his jeer. You shift to your monitor and go back to your editing. He clucks. 

“Months, years?” He suggests. 

“I’m busy,” you insist, keeping your eyes averted. 

“What the wife doesn’t know...” he growls. 

You flinch, appalled by his suggestion. 

“Leave,” you say. 

He snickers. “Are you so resigned to your feeble existence? Those lonely nights? In your condo, drinking your chardonnay, reclining on your chaise and reading the latest lascivious rag written for pruny old divorcees?” 

You freeze then slowly look at him. It could be a cruel assumption, though it isn’t untrue. In fact, it is far too accurate to be a coincidence. Down to the chaise and the chardonnay. 

“And that toy you keep in your jewelry box,” he curls a finger to mimic the curved shape. “Do you even feel it anymore?” 

“Get out,” you hiss. 

He smirks and arches a brow, “come.” 

He beckons with two fingers. You clutch the armrests of your chair and your nose flairs. You glare back at him, horrified. A newly married man and he’s here propositioning you. What’s more, he’s been watching you. 

“You’re disgusting--” 

“Get up,” he rubs his thigh. “And come here.” 

“HR--” 

“Oh, I know Bradon well. I will be happy enough to explain how you’ve grown so jealous of my young wife. You’re overworked so of course you couldn’t control yourself--” 

“He wouldn’t believe you--” 

“Wouldn’t he? We play squash on Sundays. He knows my character well. An upstanding member of the country club--” 

“Why are you doing this? What do you want me to say? Hm? Congratulations on your pretty young wife. Now, you should go home to her,” you snip. 

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he taunts as his eyes narrow snakishly. “I want you to come sit in my lap so I can show you how useless that toy truly is.” 

“You are--” 

“I am your villain,” he undercuts you. “And you have two choices. You can finish that project and submit it and have it tossed out for your indiscretions or you can do what I tell you and still have a job to support you wined-up erotica sessions.” 

You curl your lip, repulsed. There’s no point in asking why. Men do not operate on logic. 

“What’s it going to be?” 

You grit your teeth and take a deep breath. You push yourself to your feet and steady yourself. You move stiffly around the desk, eyes on the wall as you near him. As you get close, he grabs your hip and turn you. He forces you down so roughly that your ankles bend. 

You catch yourself on him, grabbing his hands as he grips you tight, and you writhe against his obvious arousal. A man like him can only get off on his own ego. You shudder and grasp his wrists. 

He pulls you back against his and rests his chin on your shoulder. You squirm as he untangles his arm from your hold. He hooks his arm around your stomach as his other tugs at your skirt. You huff and claw at his sleeves. 

“Alright, that’s enough, you’ve made your point--” 

He shoves his hand against your panties, pushing the satin between your folds. You gasp and twitch. You push your thighs together and crush his fingers. It only adds pressure. 

“You remember the day I started,” he turns to nuzzle your neck as he speaks, “and you had to make it known that you weren’t an assistant advisor, you were a senior.” He moves his fingers between the clutch of your tensed thighs. “That you were above me?” 

“No, I--” you gulp slap at his wrist. 

“Oh, and look at you now. Still above me, eh? Right there... on top of me,” he buries his hand against you and nips at your neck meanly. “You will be on your knees soon enough,” he flicks his fingers harshly and you spasm. “Right where you belong.” 

[pinchinschlimbah]

On "Coming Out" and Noel Fielding

I mentioned forever ago that I had this post in mind and then never got around to it, but now with the new interview quote I was yelling about recently it feels like a particularly good time to get it out of my brain and onto the page! tl;dr: musings on the concept of "coming out" as it has evolved over time, whether it's something that should continue to be necessary or expected of queer people, and why Noel is particularly inspirational to me in that regard since this is, after all, my brainrot blog. This may be extremely long and a bit disjointed but I hope some of y'all will enjoy it!

So a while ago myself and several friends were discussing the concept of coming out. All of us are some flavor of queer both in gender and orientation, but each is in a different place along their self discovery and identity journey, with some being long since out and proud, and others just starting to dip their toes into exploration past the expected cishet.

This discussion actually was prompted by a different discussion about Noel, spurred by comments we'd come across slamming him as being homophobic/transphobic on Bakeoff for making comments suggesting he has romantic or sexual attraction towards Paul, referring to himself with female-centric terms, playing female characters in the skits, and a particular moment where he brings up Old Gregg while talking to KimJoy and says "he was a sea transsexual....quite a demanding role for me" while laughing to indicate that that last part was said in jest. Hey fellas, is it homophobic/transphobic to be a little bit gay and trans? This got us talking about how the current culture of queer identity has evolved to the point where "coming out" feels more like something the public feels they're owed in order for them to view one's expression as valid, rather than its original purpose as something one does for themself in order to live most authentically. I don't think I need to go into detail about how many artists have been harassed by their "fans" into coming out before they were ready because people wouldn't accept the validity of that person's work without knowing exactly how that person identified, there've been plenty of articles and video essays and better written tumblr posts about that, but it's definitely a concerning trend. It can be particularly dangerous when it comes to people who aren't feeling confident or safe enough to come out, who end up being criticized and shunned by the queer community as being somehow problematic for not being able to fully articulate to a group of strangers the ways in which they're experiencing their identity. In this situation, the people who are struggling the most end up with the least support. Forcing people to either declare an identity or get out just leads to more people staying closeted out of fear of doing it "wrong" and never getting the chance to explore the most authentic and joyful versions of themselves, or even worse, feeling the need to out themselves before they're in a safe place to do so and suffering the resulting consequences. Questioning or cautious people deserve space in the community to experiment even if they haven't yet or maybe never will come out! My high school's Gay Straight Alliance was comprised entirely of "straight allies" when I was there. There was not a single "out" person in the school at the time. Nearly all of us in the GSA ended up being some flavor of queer or trans years later after graduation. But whether it was intentional closeting or just feeling an innate affinity towards something we couldn't quite pinpoint at the time, we all knew we belonged there and made that space for ourselves and others like us. Back when "coming out" first became a concept in the public consciousness, it was during a time where cishet identity was not just considered the default, but the only option. By coming out, queer people were giving genuinely revolutionary representation for themselves and others like them by telling the world that, as the old saying goes, we're here, we're queer, get used to it! Nowadays, we're lucky to live in a culture that is much more cognizant of queer identities being a thing, so in many cases coming out has become less about having to explain to those around you the basic concept of queerness existing, and moreso about which specific identity you fall under, and that's where things get messy.

My friends and I shared our own thoughts and experiences. One is currently identifying as "unlabeled" because they haven't found a term that feels correct yet, and therefore hasn't come out because they wouldn't know what to say. One spoke about how when they first came out they were much more insistent on what terms or pronouns people used for them but as time has gone on they've grown to find joy in being inscrutable and letting others wonder what they're perceiving. One expressed that given the state of the world they've been retreating somewhat back into the closet for safety reasons rather than being super outward with their queerness like they used to and is working on learning to embrace those parts of themself again. One said they felt like they'd already been existing as queer and expressing that queerness "before I even had the terms to come out to myself" and is now working on catching up on the conscious end of figuring out what's what. I myself never really had an official "coming out", I just became increasingly visually/socially/vocally queer as I became more and more confident in who I was and what I wanted to be and who I had on some level always been, and decided if people didn't get the hint that's their own problem. I came into consciousness of my queerness during the early 2010s original tumblr MOGAI microlabel boom, where there was a ton of focus on figuring out the hyper specific identity labels that exactly described what you were experiencing. I did a lot of digging and soul searching and experienced a lot of unnecessary stress trying and failing to find my perfect labels and landed on clumsy terms like "full time drag queen" because it was the closest I could get to what I was feeling about my gender, only to be told it was problematic for me to call myself that as an AFAB person because drag "belongs to cis gay men" (don't get me started on that statement, that's a whole other essay lol) It was a real wake up call once I distanced from these aggressively labeled and segmented online spaces and made my way into real world queer communities where I was relieved to find that in fact no one there asks to check your membership card before letting you in, if you feel like you belong there you're welcome no questions asked.

I had other people in these communities referring to me as "queer" and "fag" and "gay" and "queen" before I felt comfortable doing so myself based on online Discourse I'd experienced over who is Allowed to use certain terms, and having these community leaders I respected recognizing those things in me and welcoming me in like that gave me the confidence to really find my own footing in ways that attempting to find my exact correct identity label so that I could officially proclaim it never did. Once I could answer the question of what I was with a shrug and "queer I guess!" things became so much easier. Microlabels can be incredibly helpful and liberating for some, don't get me wrong if it works for you that's great, but let's not pretend that everyone is going to have the same experiences.

So anyway, back to Noel. Noel has never, to my knowledge, ever had any sort of official “coming out” or explicitly referred to himself as queer. So I know there are people out there who will disagree with me considering him to be queer. But so much of what he’s said and done throughout his several decades long career has indicated to me that this is clearly someone of queer experience navigating the world as such, and just as the queers in my local community welcomed me as one of them before I knew to do it myself, I extend that welcome forward. 

Let’s take a look at some of the facts. In the public span of his career, Noel has.....(in no particular order, also if anyone wants to add additional instances of note in the reblogs or comments please feel free, this is by no means a fully comprehensive list) -repeatedly called himself "the woman of the Boosh" or Julian's/Howard's "wife" in ways that suggest that's how he actually felt about it rather than it just being a punchline that he was mistaken for female in the show [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] -referred to himself at the GQ "Man of the Year" awards as "never been a man" and "a sort of girl, he/she" -been referred to by Sandi Toksvig as being "on the cusp" in regards to gender, to which he reacts with amusement and acceptance -consistently expressed excitement and appreciation when others refer to him with feminine terms or say he looks like a girl [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] -said "I love being a man-woman, it's much more interesting than being one or the other" and expressed that the loved shooting the Boosh Electro episode for this reason -referred to Vince Noir (a character who he's been pretty open about being based on himself) as "wasn't seemingly one gender or the other" -expressed that he felt most free and happy when presenting femininely [2] -had Julian, one of the people closest to him, express that Noel and Sandi (an out lesbian) may have "real sexual chemistry" because Noel is "all over the shop, he's a different sex" -used the "Confuser" line of "Is it a boy? Is it a girl? I'm not sure I mind" to refer to himself rather than Vince, and express that he's had to work to find new ways to feel as androgynous as he'd like now that he's older -referred to himself as a lesbian [2] -said that he "sometimes looks in the mirror and sees a woman", in the same interview that Julian implies that Noel is in fact a girl -referred to himself as a "girl/boy" -consistently referred to himself with feminine terms on panel shows and bakeoff -made a joke on bakeoff about not being a testosterone-based person -responded positively when asked about the ways Boosh had influenced queer and nonbinary youth -has said he's "quite obsessed with the man/woman mixup thing" -has said if he was an animal he'd want to be a seahorse because the males get pregnant -Had Lee Mack, who Noel used to live with, refer to him as "the little transsexual one, yeah I think she's fantastic" in a Boosh documentary and "a young lady who came out here happy to be herself" in response to Noel's Wuthering Heights drag performance -had his own mother refer to him as "the daughter I always wanted" -described his own appearance as that of a "transsexual witch" and when an interviewer attempted to make fun of him for calling himself "a transgender witch" by showing Noel a drawing the interviewer clearly found repulsive, Noel responded that the interviewer was "holding up a mirror" and called the image his passport photo

And I'm not even going to bother citing sources on the countless times he's made comments suggesting romantic or sexual attraction towards men. Literally just watch any non-character appearance he's ever done, it's kind of his whole thing??? Not to mention his penchant for picking up explicitly queer and gnc character roles, and also just [gestures vaguely to everything Noel and Julian have said about each other suggesting romantic and sexual tension between them and how they used their characters as an excuse to explore those feelings in a less scary way, again that could be a whole other essay on its own but ooh boy] I also think there's something interesting to explore in the idea of Noel repeatedly referring to his appearance as transgender or transsexual rather than identifying himself as such- at what point does the appearance of something become reality?

It all begs the question- is it even a joke anymore if it's that consistent? Either it's not a joke and it's an authentic expression of his real feelings and experiences, or he for some reason really really wants everyone to believe that he's queer when he's not, with this behavior spanning back to a time before the concept of queerbaiting was on anyone's minds and when being publicly queer could mean the end of your career. Which scenario do you think is more likely? And, does someone who’s been conducting themself like this for their entire career really NEED to come out? Honestly, I find this level of simultaneous authenticity and inscrutability aspirational.

In this Velvet Onion interview from 2012, Noel compares his penchant for dresses to both Grayson Perry and Eddie Izzard. This is interesting because those two people represent pretty opposite intentions behind their presentation- Grayson identifies solidly as cis male, and for him the shock value of crossdressing is the point, saying “I signed up for a gender and I want them to be very clearly delineated so I know I’m dressing up in the wrong clothes.” This doesn't seem particularly in line with where Noel is coming from given him famously referring to himself as "the Confuser" and stating in that same Velvet Onion interview that he "never even bothered giving it a label, I never went oh I'm a transvestite, I just went yeah if I fancy wearing a dress I do, never really thought about it really" Eddie on the other hand has famously said "They're not women's clothes. They're my clothes, I bought them." indicating that they were a genuine part of her authentic expression rather than a crossdressing costume, and has subsequently over the years identified more and more solidly as transfemme. I find Eddie's trajectory particularly fascinating because it's been so non-linear. In the 90s when the language for transness was much less public knowledge, she referred to herself consistently as a transvestite- a cishet man who enjoyed dressing as a woman, as well as using terms like "male tomboy" and "male lesbian" and "a full boy plus extra girl". Despite doing most of her standup shows in femme looks, most of her acting jobs were male-presenting, and there was a period of time in the 2010s where she dropped the femme presentation entirely in an attempt to be taken more seriously as the "crossdressing" was seen by many as a gimmick. Swinging back around more recently, Eddie has been explicitly identifying as genderfluid and transfemme, and in recent years has made the decision to "be based in girl mode from now on", and use primarily she/her pronouns. Since this announcement, in her trans advocacy work Eddie has described herself as being "out" as trans since the 1980s despite all of the above. She always knew who she was, it's just she's gotten access to more accurate terms over time to describe what she was experiencing, as well as feeling more safe to do so the more that transness became a known and accepted concept in the public eye.

The interview I mentioned at the very start of this post isn't really a coming out from Noel. And I don't think we'll ever really get one from him. In my opinion Noel has spent the past several decades conducting himself as someone who is in fact already out- it’s pretty clear Noel knows and is proud of who he is regardless of how he chooses to describe that identity. At this point, making some sort of official statement would just be for the benefit of others looking for clarification on their own perception of him and people who want to be able to put him in one box or another, and that’s not what coming out should be. The statement in the new interview is not "I am genderfluid", its "I've always been genderfluid", simply putting an accurate name to what's always been publicly visibly true now that he's got the terms to do so.

[bravevulnerability]

hey bv, you are so missed. if there's any chance you'd ever write again, please write something based on your favorite song.

A/N: set post season 4, after the events of Headhunters (4x21). Favorite song (of the moment): 'The Alcott' by The National (feat. Taylor Swift).

-

“I get myself twisted in threads to meet you at the alcott I'd go to the corner in the back where you'd always be And there you are, sitting as usual with your golden notebook Writing something about someone Who used to be me”

-

Her heart leaps to her throat at the sight of him, gunshot wound throbbing in time with her pulse. She’s circled back to their swings more times than she can count in the last year, but never did she expect to find them occupied. Not by him. 

“Castle?”

His gaze jerks up to meet hers, his eyes clouded like the skies overhead. The notebook open on his knee snaps shut and his spine straightens. 

“Beckett.” Her name scrapes past his lips, over heart abraded heart, and then he’s shooting to his feet. “Kate,” he amends, a tad warmer but still guarded. 

She swallows and takes a step towards him. “What’re you doing here?” she asks, her lips threatening to quirk at the mere sight of him, the simple fact that she’s interacting with him after over a year of… nothing. 

She lied, he left, and that was it. He stopped coming to the precinct, ignored the single call she made to him weeks after, and she took it as her sign to stop. To, for once, just leave it alone. 

He stopped wanting her. Somewhere between the blondes, the replacement cops, and the blatant chill of his silence, she got the hint. But her heart never really did. 

He arches his brow and she recovers quickly. 

“I mean, I thought you had a new book coming out today,” she explains, noting the flannel draped across his chest, the faded jeans clinging to his waist. Not at all dressed for a day of photos and glamor. 

“Ah, yeah,” he sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck, a sheepish expression claiming his face. “I may have played hooky. Phone’s on silent, so I’m not sure how much trouble I’m in.”

Kate gnaws on her bottom lip. “Mind if I sit?”

She watches his throat ripple, his eyes flicker to the empty swing beside him. 

“Of course not,” he replies, gingerly returning to his own swing, notebook pressed close to his sternum. 

He waits until she’s seated, swaying gently beside him. “How’d you know about the new book?”

She scoffs, digs the heels of her sneakers into the dying grass at their feet. Winter still has the park colored lifeless, naked branches and dead leaves scattered all around them.

“Just because we aren’t… I didn’t just start hating your books, Castle,” she chuckles ruefully. 

The corner of his mouth twitches, just barely. “Well, I’d recommend skipping this one anyway. Not worth your time.”

“What? New muse giving you trouble?” she teases, but he blows out a breath. 

“No new muses, Beckett,” he mutters, some of that familiar ice lining his words. “You should know that.”

“I should?” she echoes, tilting her head in askance. “Because we’ve really been keeping up with one another well enough for that?”

His gaze turns stony at that, any hints of blue gone and fading to grey. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Kate.”

“Me?” she snaps, incredulous, feeling that familiar pulse of a fire building in her chest. “You’re the one who disappeared. You’re the one who went radio silent on me before you even left.”

“Just taking a page out of your book,” he murmurs, the words cruel but his voice lacking the venom necessary to land the blow. 

Castle stands from the swings, his attention on the street ahead, and her legs follow, her hand reaching for him without thinking.

“I deserve that,” she states, fingers snagging the soft edge of his shirt. He stills, squaring his jaw against her. “But I also feel like I deserve an explanation.”

“For what?" he demands, but still fails to look back at her. "For trying to move on, for preserving my dignity?”

Her fingers tighten, refusing to let go. “This is what I’m talking about. Ever since the bombing case, you were so angry with me and then you left, you - you didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I couldn’t,” he growls, wiping a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was in love with you, Kate. Is that what you want to hear? That I loved you so damn much, that I was stupid enough to think you might love me back, until I heard you knew all along - what I said when you were shot.” Her heart plummets to her stomach, sinking into the acid of her gut, shriveling to nothing. Castle finally meets her eyes, the anger she so fiercely remembers gone. Nothing but resignation left. “You lied to me. I don’t know if it was to spare my feelings, or because you were embarrassed - it doesn’t matter. Especially now.”

He gently unhooks the slackened fingers from his side. 

“So there’s your explanation,” he mumbles. “And here’s your goodbye, Kate.”

“No,” she rasps, clearing her throat. “Castle, no.”

But he’s already walking away from her.

“Do you want to know the first time I felt it?” she stutters out, clutching the v-neck of her shirt, clutching the thin material shielding her scar.

Castle’s back is to her, but he stops, waits, and sighs. Giving in to her.

“Felt what, Beckett?”

“That I might - that I was at risk of falling in love with you?”

His shoulders shift at that, not quite relaxed but lowering from their hunched defense. 

“The day Dick Coonan tried to shoot you,” she recalls aloud, willing her voice to hold steady. “There was so much at stake that day, but the idea of you getting hurt, especially over me? It scared me in a way I’d never felt before. And then, when you came to the precinct that night, when we sat at my desk and had dinner together, I just - I felt it,” she confesses, her fingers instinctively twining around the chain at her neck. “I just wanted you with me.”

Castle hesitates, but allows the sway of his body towards her, the subtle shift of his step to see her. 

“Since then?” he murmurs, the question barely loud enough for her to hear. 

“Since then,” she confirms, the tight coil of nerves in her chest loosening ever so slightly. “It was the beginning of me recognizing it for what it could be, but every morning you showed up, with a coffee for me, with a smile, I just - god, it scared the shit out of me how I started to feel about you even then, Castle.”

A strangled, breathless sound, something akin to a laugh, skitters past his lips. 

“I know the feeling,” he breathes, chancing a tentative step towards her. “Kate, I-”

“Richard Castle, I am going to strangle you!” The hiss of a woman’s voice breaks the careful words between them. Kate glances to her left to see his agent - Paula, she thinks - storming towards him in a bright fuchsia dress and platform purple heels that sink into the ground. “Do you know how many people have been waiting on you? Do you know how long? Hours, Rick. Hours!”

“Oh no,” Castle expels under his breath, eyes darting between Kate and his agent. “Kate-”

“Remember that brunch place on Greenwich you took me to once? That day we had a murder in the village?” 

He blinks, blue eyes sparkling with memory. “Elephants and Castle?”

“Yes. Meet me tomorrow?” she asks, letting the hope bleed onto her lips, into her eyes. “We can get coffee, maybe talk?”

“Yes, yes,” he agrees, stumbling over the single word. 

“Richard. Castle. I swear to god-”

“Paula, I am coming,” he growls, an impatience to him she almost forgot about, shooting the other woman a fierce look. 

“One. Minute,” she growls back, pivoting sharply on her heel and storming towards the sidewalk. 

“You okay with noon?” he asks hurriedly. 

“Yeah, noon’s perfect,” she murmurs, feeling her lips curling beneath the pin of her teeth. 

His face mirrors hers, the two of them smiling like little kids with crushes on the playground. And for a lovely moment, it's as if the past, the pain, never existed.

“Hey,” she breathes, reaching for his hand, squeezing his fingers. “Thank you. For giving me a chance.”

Those blue eyes trip down to their hands, staring in something close to wonder as his large palm engulfs her slim fingers.

He squeezes back, strokes his thumb along the heel of her palm as they part. 

“Until tomorrow, Beckett.”

-

I sit there silently waiting for you to look up I see you smile when you see it's me I had to do something to break into your golden thinking How many times will I do this and you'll still believe?

-

His heart is rabbiting in his chest, his knee bouncing beneath the cover of the table, shaking his chair. A few of the other patrons shoot him a look of annoyance, but he can’t help it. He hasn’t stopped thinking about her, writing about her in that stupid notebook dedicated to her, since their run in at the swings yesterday. 

He breezed through the remainder of his book release event, signing autographs and taking photos on autopilot. His thoughts spattered with images of her - both new and old. She implied she loved him, loved him back, and now the last five years are tinted in a new shade of optimism.

What if it isn't too late for them after all?

Castle glances hopefully to the entry when he hears the whoosh of the door opening. The weather is uncertain today - grey clouds imposing on the sky yet again, bloated and threatening rain to accompany the winds tunneling through the city. Kate shoves the glass door open with her shoulder, her hair windblown and long, whipping against her too sharp cheeks, the collarbones protruding through her sweater. 

He waits, watching her gaze eagerly take in the room, searching for him, setting alight once she finds him. It makes his breath catch. 

She strides through the quaint restaurant, sliding in across from him in the wooden booth 

“Hey, Castle,” she smiles, tentative, nervous. Not something he’s used to seeing on her, especially not for him. “How are you? And how have you been? I feel terrible for not managing to ask you yesterday.”

He almost teases her for the attempt at small talk, but her expression is so open to him, so beseeching. 

“I think yesterday took us both off guard. Who needs manners in the face of a reunion?” 

She chuckles. “Well, the question stands nonetheless.”

He hesitates, but proceeds to tell her bits and pieces of the last year - Alexis’s graduation, her move to California to attend Stanford, his mother’s persistent presence in his life and the new love interest that has her out of the loft more often than not. He leaves out much talk of his career, ashamed of the swan dive into despair his writing skills have taken. He goes to ask about her, about the Twelfth, but as if sensing it, she steers him away from conversation about her own life. 

“How’d the rest of the book event go?”

He winces. “Well, let’s just say I’m on my third strike with Black Pawn.”

“Third, huh?” She arches a single brow at him. “Been getting into trouble without me, Rick?”

The flare of teasing in her eyes, in the curve of her mouth, is so dazzling in its familiarity. It’s like a punch to the gut, realizing how many pieces of her he’s been missing. 

“Well, not legally. Just some missed deadlines and events here and there,” he muses, nodding to the waiter who catches his attention over Beckett’s shoulder. “I ordered us lattes.”

The steaming mugs are placed in front of them, menus left on the edge of the table. She glances down, pleased. 

“And if you’re hungry-”

“I think I’m okay,” she murmurs, chewing on her bottom lip in that maddening habit she apparently hasn’t dropped. “I just have a lot I need to say.”

He bridges his fingers beneath his chin to stop them from shaking. “Gonna tell me about another time in our partnership that I won you over?”

He’s teasing, but she purses her lips, as if bracing herself. Oh, she is-

“When my apartment blew up. A little before, actually,” she confesses on a chuckle that wobbles its way out of her throat. “But that day… while I appreciated the heroics, it was more so the way you were there for me afterwards.”

He watches intently as she lowers her eyes to the billowing steam of her coffee, lashes kissing her cheeks and hiding her eyes. 

“You had this way of knowing what I needed, how much to push, when to take a step back.” Her mouth softens into a mournful curve. “It bothered me back then. I hated how in sync we were.”

“Hated how much you liked me.”

“Yes,” she sighs, but there’s a smirk tugging at her lips. “I did.”

The rawness of her honesty takes him off guard. As far as he knows, Beckett has only actually lied to him about one major event, but regardless, she has always been guarded. Never one to share or let people in. He’s certain he was an exception in learning as much as he did about her. But to have her sit before him, answering his subtle teases and nudges of inquiries with directness… it's nearly enough to startle him. 

But it isn’t merely openness on her face, vulnerability in her eyes, it’s determination, too. 

“Is that why… Demming, Josh?” 

Her palms cradle her mug then, her head nodding softly. “Yeah. It was… easier. How’d you put it - one foot out the door relationships?”

“I’m guilty of them too,” he says, needing to ease the frown claiming her lips, the obvious discomfort his question evoked. “I mean, my entire relationship with Gina… just that summer alone, all I could think about was you. It was all only ever because I couldn’t have you.”

“Oh, Castle,” she sighs, his name such a sorrowful sound on her lips. “What’s done is done, but we both wasted so much time.”

He echoes her exhale and reaches across the table, presses his knuckles against hers. Her skin is hot, radiating warmth stolen from the mug, and he lets it seep into his own skin. 

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To stop that?”

“I thought I was here to win you over,” she murmurs, tongue in cheek, and he can’t help the smile it elicits. The genuine smile that cracks his cheeks for the first time in nearly twelve months.

“You definitely set that in motion yesterday,” he chuckles, fitting his knuckles in closer against hers, letting the bones slot into place against hers. “The woman I loved for the last five years telling me there’s a chance? I couldn’t walk away from that.”

“It’s not a chance, Castle,” she says adamantly, her demeanor shifting, eyes glittering with resolve. “It’s a sure thing. You found out I heard you at Montgomery’s funeral.” And wow, she’s really just diving right into it, huh? “That’s what I’m assuming you mean when you accuse me of lying?”

His lips purse. “Yeah.”

Her hand abandons the coffee cup, disrupting his touch only to reclaim it, clutching his fingers with a gentle ferocity that she’s always owned. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, thumb stroking back and forth over his knuckles now. “I never wanted to hurt you, Rick. I hope you can believe that much.”

“I - my first thought wasn’t that you were doing it out of malice,” he manages, his mouth dry. “I just assumed you didn’t feel the same way.”

“Maybe ask next time?” she huffs before shooting him an apologetic cast of her gaze. “I didn’t feel like I was ready to love you the way I wanted to.”

He catches her thumb with his own, twining them. “In what way, Kate?”

He needs her to say it, to be as clear as possible. The last thing they can afford is another misunderstanding. 

Beckett shifts, her shoulders threatening to jump to her ears. Self-conscious, uncertain, scared. They were both so afraid of each other. 

“In a way that would last,” she breathes out, meeting his eyes with need in hers - the need for him to understand, to reassure, to reciprocate. “I didn’t want one foot out the door with you, Castle. I wanted to be all in. And I couldn’t do that with a hole in my chest and the PTSD flare ups, with Montgomery dead and my mom’s case feeling closer than ever, yet so far away at the same time.”

“You needed time,” he surmises softly, watching her nod grateful and slow. 

“I know we talked on the swings, but maybe we - I should have been more clear. But it all felt so raw, I didn’t want to touch it,” she confesses, squeezing his hand. “If I could go back… if I knew a year ago that this is why you were leaving me? God, Castle,” she rasps, lifting her eyes to the ceiling. “This past year without you has sucked.”

A laugh startles out of him, drawing a tiny smile from her own mouth to the surface. 

“Consider the sentiment shared,” he chuckles, tugging at her hand, but she winces - nearly gasps - at the movement. “Beckett?”

“Just sore,” she assures him, the smile on her lips waning. “Busy week at work.”

But her eyes have left him, falling back to the safety net of coffee growing cold. There’s something she’s not telling him, something she’s avoiding saying. 

“Beckett,” he murmurs, narrowing his gaze on her. “Kate, tell me.”

“Just… the guy who shot me.” She gently disentangles her hand from his. “We caught a lead last week and me and Espo went after him.”

He sucks in a harsh breath. 

“I ended up chasing him onto a rooftop. He - he threw me over the edge of the building, got away. Ryan found us, pulled me up before I could fall,” she explains, fingers knotting in front of her. He sees it now, the mottled bruising on her wrist, the stray cut along her throat, the purpling green hiding behind the layers of hair whispering along her forehead. 

“You… you’re never going to stop,” he realizes aloud, scrubbing a hand at his jaw, the stubble growing there. “That’s why they keep coming after you, Kate. Montgomery tried to ensure your survival with that package and you just-”

“Excuse me?” 

He blinks, realizing his error too late. They never had the chance to talk about this.

“Castle,” she says calmly, but he can hear the quaking of her voice. “What package?”

“Kate-”

“No,” she snaps, quiet but firm, a hint of interrogation in her voice. “You want open and honest, Castle? Well, so do I. Now what’re you talking about?”

It’s the worst possible thing he could do, letting this information slip, but it’s already too late. She won’t let it go. 

So he tells her. Tells her everything about Montgomery’s friend, Smith, and how the other man struck a deal with the people behind her mother’s murder, her own shooting. How there was only one condition to her maintained safety, her survival, how she was supposed to back off. 

For a long moment, there is silence, stillness, the sounds of the restaurant muted around them. 

She won’t look at him. 

“Are you a part of this?” she questions, her voice ragged and scraping along his sternum. 

“I just - I wanted to keep you safe.”

He feels the wall resurrect.

“You… cut a deal for my life, like I’m some kind of child,” she whispers, her jaw squaring sharp enough to slice. “Have the audacity to lecture me, to call me a liar, to walk out of my life for it, and all along…” The irises of her gaze have gone dark. “You were a liar too.”

-

I'll ruin it all over (Read my sentence out loud) And over like I always do ('Cause I love this curse on our house)

-

“Kate!”

She can barely breathe past the lump in her throat.

“Kate, stop!”

She keeps walking - practically jogging - down the sidewalk. She isn’t sure where she’s going, only that she needs to be away, away from him, from this damning new knowledge, from the hypocrisy of it all. It hurts too much.

She clocks the street. If she just crosses over to 7th Avenue, she can lose him at the next subway platform. 

But he isn’t keeping a bad pace. 

“This isn’t fair,” he calls after her, a lot closer than she hoped. It doesn’t matter now, though, because that has her spinning on her heel, slamming her fists into his chest when he smacks into her. 

“Fair?” she snarls, but he’s catching her wrists before she can shove him away. “That entire year, I needed a lead, and you kept it from me.”

“Kate, you need to listen to me,” he argues, walking backwards and jerking her along with him, off the public sidewalk and into a park. Perfect, she can abandon her heart in yet another playground.

“Listen to you?” she growls, ripping her hands from his grasp. “How am I even supposed to trust anything you’re saying to me right now?”

“How-” His chest heaves with a deep breath. “Because of everything we’ve been through together! You think you were the only one who was terrified of loving someone so much? You are the most… remarkable, maddening, challenging, frustrating person I have ever met and I have loved you damn near since the moment I saw you.”

His words batter her chest like a hammer to her ribs, splintering down her sternum, eviscerating the remnants of her heart. 

“When I was drowning in the death of Derrick Storm, with no inspiration, you came walking into my life like something I never knew I needed. Everything that followed, the four years of nearly dying on a regular basis, and - save for my child - there was nothing I wanted more than you.”

Kate scrapes a hand through her hair, paces towards a small garden in the park's center, a tiny pond of koi fish. Her bruises are throbbing with awareness, her fractured wrist aching, her brittle bones yearning for rest. The night before last, before she ended up finding her way back to a place she thought of as theirs and finding him by some chance that felt like a miracle, she should have died. It was enough to inspire her to reevaluate her life, to consider what she might want more than unattainable justice for her mother, for herself. To finally face just how much she wanted him. 

“I can’t pinpoint the moment I knew I was falling for you, Kate. But I knew when I was done for.”

“Castle, stop,” she rasps, swiping fingers to the paper thin skin beneath her eye, catching any moisture before it can fall. 

“The night Ryan and I were kidnapped by Tyson, when you burst through the door, sat with me out by the pool, I just remember thinking… this is all I need.” Kate glares up at the sky, willing away the stupid sting in her eyes, focusing on the darkening of the clouds instead. “And a few weeks later, when I kissed you… god, there was no going back. All I could think about was how I was going to do it again.”

“Stop,” she hisses, turning on her heel. But he’s watching her with such a striking ache in his eyes, mercurial and shimmering.

“The freezer, Montgomery’s funeral, the bank - all of it was some sick reminder from the universe of how much time I was wasting not being with you.” Castle advances on her slowly. She stands her ground, arms banded tightly at her chest. “Every time we nearly died, all I could think about was you.”

He stands a breath away from her now, towering over her by a few inches without her heels. 

“Tell me you didn’t feel the same.”

Her teeth clench as she forces a swallow down her dry throat. 

“I’m not going to lie again,” she admits on a rasp, holding the defiance in his eyes with her own. “But you left, Castle. And maybe it was for the best after all.”

His palms cup her shoulders before she can brush past him, anticipating her move before she can make it. 

“Did you fall out of love with me this past year? Because I’m damn sure still in love with you, Kate.”

-

I tell you the truth (Could it be easy this once?) It's the last thing you wanted (Everything that's mine is a landmine) It's the first thing I do (Did my love aid and abet you?) I tell you that I think I'm falling Back in love with you

-

“That - that doesn’t matter,” she whispers, the fight dripping out of her. Her fingers curl around his arm, ready to dismantle his hold on her at last, but his hands are already leaving her shoulders. Moving to cup her face. “Rick-”

He’s kissing her before she can think to back away, palms cradling her cheeks and mouth slanting over hers. Her body practically sinks into him, into his kiss, into the unique taste of home and reprieve only he has ever given her. The moan escapes unbidden and low, just like it did the first time, and her fingers fist in the sleeves of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

Her back connects with the nearest tree, spine arching, chest connecting with his. Castle hums and splays his palms at her shoulder blades, soothes her bottom lip between his. She rises on her toes, arms lacing around his neck as she kisses him back, deep and slow. Everything she’s wanted since he walked away from her.

“It matters,” he breathes against her lips, bumping his nose against hers. “I love you, Kate. Tell me that still means something.”

For a horrifying moment, she fears she’s started to cry, but the water on her cheek has Castle looking to the sky. 

“It’s starting to rain,” he sighs, his fingers scaling her sides, curling at her hip bones. 

“Then take me home,” she husks, unable to help the quirk of her lips when his gaze flashes back to her like lightning. She lifts her hand to his cheek, trails tentative fingers down his skin, tracing the angle of his jaw. She wants to learn every inch of him. “Because I want you to know just how much it means to me."

His hips bump against hers as he allows his hands to converge at the base of her vertebrae, arms coiling tightly around her and sealing her in close. 

She grins as she tilts her chin to kiss him once more, savoring the familiar heat of his mouth on hers, the perfect fit of his lips. The stray droplets are turning into a drizzle, but she doesn’t hurry the work of her mouth against his. 

“So take me home,” she picks up, glancing up to meet the gorgeous blue of those eyes she's missed. “Fall back in love with me completely.”

[dansevilpianotea]

what are some phancoded songs?

hiiii omg thanks for the ask!! i absolutely love talking about songs i associate with my interests!! (autism has been activated to the highest degree so this will be a long post, you have been warned)

here are some of what i think are classic dnp coded songs:

Guys by The 1975 (i see this as more about the phandom than about dnp tbh but its very very dnp coded no matter how you interpret it) That's So Us by Allie X Still into You by Paramore The Only Exception by Paramore

i have a whole ass 100 song long playlist about dnp but let me give you my favourites that aren't the usual classics:

Eighteen by Pale Waves

This city depresses me But you try to be everything I need We sat on the corner kissing each other Felt like I could finally see in colour I was 18 when I met you Poured my heart out, spilt all my truth I finally felt like I could feel for the first time When I met you

i mean????? thats 2009 dan and phil????? dip and pip??? hello!!??

also fun fact!!: this band is from manchester and this song was written by their non-binary drummer and lesbian lead singer (who lowkey gives lesbian version of dan). you should rlly listen to pale waves. idek if theyve heard of dnp but theyre true phannies to me.

Starlight by Muse

this song, man. never heard of muse until i got into dnp and then i this song was the first one is listened to.

Hold you in my arms I just wanted to hold You in my arms

i feel like it says sth about the expectations of being in a relationship while also presenting yourself on a massive public platform. wanting to be authentic and produce content^tm vs. being closeted and wanting to protect your relationship. 'I will be chasing a starlight, Until the end of my life, I don't know if it's worth it anymore'. Is worth it to constantly push the content out while feeling like a fraud for being inauthentic about your identity? 'And our hopes and expectations, Black holes and revelations'. the future may seem very dark and hopeless sometimes, it may not turn out how we expect or hope, but only once we face instead of fight it (embrace the void etc) we will forgive our past selves and see that the future really is bright. so yes, very dnp coded.

Anniversary by Autoheart

Years of nothing have subsided We have fixed each other up Giving you up? What are you on about? I'll never give up believing in us Giving you up? Now why would I do a thing like that? No I’m not giving you up, no way I will never stop when it comes to you

this song is not only dnp coded (kind of an october 19th theme song) but also has gained a new meaning since the return of dnp games <3. they didnt give up on us. they came back. and we really helped each other get here <3. think about it like that when listening and i guarantee you will be sobbing. the song also has some marriage themes bc theres wedding vows during the bridge so i will just let you live with that <33

Where the Lines Overlap by Paramore

Tracing patterns across a personal map And making pictures where the lines overlap No one is as lucky as us We're not at the end but oh, we already won Call me over And tell me how Well, you got so far Never making a single sound I'm not used to it But I can learn

we werent ready for their comeback / we're still learning to get used to it / just look at them / boiling frog theory / hard phaunch / do i need to say more

Yellow by Coldplay

this song became part of my playlist when phil didnt know a single coldplay song. unfortunately i cant take it serious anymore after dan was turned into a golden pig, then was literally glowing golden during a book event all while #pissyourself4dan was trending and every phannie on twt made their pfps yellow. i will curse your mind to with the lyrics and mental imagery: (im sorry but im also not bc this is how my autism thinks humour works)

Look at the stars Look how they shine for you And everything you do Yeah, they were all yellow ✨✨ Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones Turn into something beautiful ✨✨✨ And you know, you know I love you so 💛

✨✨✨

(im sorry again)

Safe & Sound by Tonight Alive

Dan in BIG: "for the first time since I was a tiny child I actually felt safe."

Nothing compares to what we share I don't have a care in the world Cause even if it all came crashing down, As long as you're around, I'll be safe and sound. 🧡

ending it with a nice one because its beautiful and sappy and its so them afterall. they really won rpf.

thank you for this ask, i enjoyed answering it!! (im sorry for taking so long. im on day 11 of a cold so ive not had much energy.)

[idolbound]

LET'S GET REACQUAINTED ! hey rpc ! lets be honest, datv brought us all back in one way or another either you're a veteran or new, i'm sure there is stuff that has changed or we don't know each other so let's have a game about it to reintroduce each other ! repost this to do the same & tag some pals if you want !

Name / Penname: Lexie for veterans, did you go by something previously ? if so what was it if you're comfortable sharing that name &/or penname: Nope, I've always gone by Lexie. age & gender( if comfortable sharing ): 30, female what was your first dragon age muse: I want to say it was my Cassandra, originally @stabbystabseeker , then I had my Hawke and Inquis both for a hot second as well as Meredith in 2015. do you have any other darp muses / blogs: I have Cassandra, my Rook, and soon to be Rana Savas on my multi @afraidofchange what muses / blogs do you have outside of darp: Mostly still just my multi, but I did throw my D&D/Bg3 Paladin Rama on a solo blog for the time being @wolfbluff thedas has two moons: true | false - is that not the canon?

single line, para, or novella: all of the above, but I don't like single line stuff to go on for more than a few replies/single evening. I need at least some exposition and description lol. plotting or winging it: Typically memes or plotting more generally. It doesn't have to be super specific but I like having mutually shared ideas. fighting threads, you bold enough for them?: I write a villain with a boss fight; of course I'm down to write them. Meredith is also a powerful templar, and isn't afraid to fuck someone up. (this would require plotting, obviously no god modding, but yknow). what content warnings are on your blog?: Drug usage with lyrium (or cocaine in modern verse), violence, PTSD, violence, gore/blood, uh, genocide of the Circle mages, etc. I don't sanitize Meredith, but I approach these topics with respect. what things do you need tagged for your comfort?: suicide & self-harm.

shipping preferences: single | multi | no ship | polyship (sorry Meredith is polyphobic xoxo)- typically, I'm open to separate ships, but because of who Meredith is, some plotting is necessary - I do not change her character to suit a ship (but I have a greater ability to ship her in post-DA2 verses or modern verse, where she isn't as limited). shipping boundaries: Meredith is a lesbian. I ship her with other female muses. She's also between 35-45 years of age during the Kirkwall timeline, and while I'm open to certain age gaps, I prefer to at least ship her with someone 25+ and has their frontal lobe fully developed. I'm pretty selective with my ships, but if there's a vibe, I'd be interested in exploring it (casual, short or long term). favorite ships in dragon age: There are so so many canon x canons, but if we're gonna count romance options in the games: Morrigan/Warden, Isabela/f!Hawke, Cassandra/Inquis, Neve/Rook. favorite ships from the rpc( tag your friends ships ! ): There are a few whose URLs are escaping me but trust me when I say that I see you, especially those of us that have been writing the same ships w the same people for years. So shout out to @sanctamater for writing Kirkwall's Worst Sapphics together <3

fun facts about yourself that may have changed since in the past ten years( when inquisition dropped )--

I moved halfway across the country and I'm 2.5 years into writing my doctorate. (Also it's been almost 10 years since I started writing Mere). My best friend is due with twins any day now (we only know Baby A is female, we still don't know what Baby B's sex is because they've kept their legs closed this entire time), but I'll be an auntie before 2024 is out.

be honest, did you miss darp. come on now--

I missed a lot of the people I wrote with back in the day and thankfully many of them have come back. I don't miss the crazy insane drama / insane behaviour that happened in this RPC, and quite frankly, I do wish more people would branch out and write more actually sapphic women, dwarves, and villains / morally grey protagonists (beyond blood mage Hawkes for example).

challenge round ! put a small top five things unrelated to dragon age !

Let's do Music things since spotify wrapped just dropped:

Chappell Roan's rise to stardom in 2024 (but I was a fan about a year before because @magicbound recommended me Red Wine Supernova on Discord).

Brat Summer.

Katie Gavin's solo album What a Relief emotionally destroyed me because it released a week after my break up, but I still bought it on vinyl.

Cat Burns did not only a cover of I like the way you kiss me but she also did teenage dirtbag and they're both amazing!

Megan Thee Stallion is the greatest rapper of our generation. I said what I said.

tagging: @sanctamater @theharellan @theodosiani @prophetries