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#i might be going inactive for a very long time
battlecriesandroses · 2 years
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@date-mate-re-animate @deanwinchestersfloralwallpaper @gilmorenatural @drlobsterman @haboat + all my other friends that I'm too nervous to tag (I don't want to bother you): I love you guys more than I can put into words. every time I saw your name in my notifications, my day was immediately cheered up. I just wanted you to know.
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skipppppy · 9 months
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No offence but I feel like some people got a little too comfortable with telling people to touch grass and swung all the way round to just straight up shaming anyone who might have a less active social life than them to feel better about themselves. “She should be at the club” was a really funny meme until people started acting like fucking middle school bullies towards people who don’t go out with their friends a lot. All those drinking/drugs/sex milestone polls were fun to engage with until it became a wierd circlejerk making fun of people who haven’t done those things before. People on twitter are once again dogpiling someone for wanting queer social spaces that don’t revolve around alcohol or loud music and telling them it’s their own fault for not having friends.
Like I get that nightclubs and sex have strong ties to queer culture and are often the first targets in the hellscape of respectability politics. It’s important we remember our roots and protect these spaces from conservative scrutiny. I mean that. They are important. But just on a surface level it seems like people are starting to see having an inactive social life as some kind of moral failing which…it’s not. I feel like an insane person for feeling like I have to say this on the fucking queer autism website but like. You aren’t inherently a bad person if you don’t have friends. You aren’t “falling behind” if you haven’t had your first kiss in your 20s or never done drugs. The real world isn’t a movie. And if you see someone who doesn’t go out much and instinctually think “wow what a terminally online loser. I bet their social life sucks because they’re a sheltered creep and not because of systemic barriers beyond their control” you need to have a long hard look at why you feel that way.
There are very real barriers that prevent isolated people from finding community and connection. Do you think you’re superior for being able to breach them? Time, money, sobriety, accessibility, none of those factors were a problem for you, so it shouldn’t be for them, right? Right?
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d4rkpluto · 4 months
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ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛꜱ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴛʀᴏɢʀᴀᴅᴇ
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thank you for the 10,000+ followers! a game with no exchange will be released:)
now that i've written and understand planets in retrograde thoroughly they will be included in chart readings for free.
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THE SUN AND THE MOON CANNOT BE IN RX.
MERCURY IN RX
♇ having mercury in rx makes someone think more often, especially over the most pettiest things they think is big. they're very anxious people, and since it is in retrograde it could be implied that they're "wired differently" they think more out of the box, and even speak different, how they speak and write could be very distinct.
♇ mercury in retrograde could give someone inactive relatives, or cousins and siblings they're not close to. and since they're people who doubt themselves a lot, they could stall themselves from the path they're supposed to take, being their own obstacles. they could also be people who take some time to take in/process information.
♇ as i said they're people who hold themselves back a lot, this could link to their childhood, might've had people speak over them and silence them when they were younger.
VENUS IN RX
♇ people who have venus in retrograde might focus on love too much, and they could be people who have a struggling relationship with women. sisters, women who are their cousins and women who are their friends.
♇ they could also be very secretive people, they have a hard time opening up, which could make them be deemed as cold. they have a hard time giving and receiving affection.
♇ they could be bad at handling money, and might think everyone is out to get them. they could find it hard to love themselves, having venus in rx, is the peak of the "tortured poet".
MARS IN RX
♇ those who have mars in retrograde could have a hard time getting along with men, or even with the opposite sex. to have mars in rx could mean you could be considered as someone who i very intense. can a hard time expressing your sexuality and aiming for your goals.
♇ instead of learning life lessons quick, they are normally stubborn people and barely listen to advice given to them by trusted people. could be people who are too hesitant, say and do things at the wrong time and place.
♇ people with mars in retrograde might've gone through sexual trauma, could be scared to be intimate with other people. they're people who hate authority or people trying to have dominance over them. the type of people to not listen to the rules and break them.
JUPITER IN RX
♇ people who have jupiter in rx are the definition of "thinking out of the box", they're people who do have moments that question their faith and some of these people tend to have a God Complex.
♇ sometimes they feel like they're the unluckiest person in the world, might feel like they wont be able to travel the world like they want to. could also have long cycles of depression.
♇ having jupiter in retrograde can mean they're someone who marches to the beat of their own drum, they can be very detail-oriented people, which sometimes mean they feel like they can judge anyone and think of themselves to be flawless. jupiter in rx people are the type of people who want everything in their future to be perfect also, without life's trials and tribulations. can be unrealistic.
SATURN IN RX
♇ as it is told, saturn in retrograde brings a father that wasnt in the person's life, the person who has the saturn in rx can make someone feel like they're being punished by life all the time.
♇ this could also mean they might find it hard to express themselves emotionally, could be due to their childhood. they go through many trials and tribulations, makes them depressive, but in the end they become really wise.
♇ they doubt themselves a lot, could have trouble balancing themselves, and their masculinity, could be too domineering.
URANUS IN RX
♇ people with uranus in rx do not like change, they're likely insecure, [not all are going to be due to different commodities in a chart], but these are usually people who think they are not going to succeed in life.
♇ they sometimes feel like they're in control of nothing which pushes them into their need of controlling everything. they're quick-thinkers but still over-thinkers. they feel like they can never feel nice in a platonic or romantic connection.
♇ it leads them into being paranoid and chaotic. they might also put themselves in a box to make things easier, don't know they're limiting their potential when doing that, they're so much more and need to understand it.
NEPTUNE IN RX
♇ to have neptune in rx could make the kin be very delusional, might find it hard to separate idealistic views with reality. definitely reminds me of alice in wonderland. they're very spiritual people but can over-whelm people by adding their faith into everything.
♇ could be really good at manifesting; trust issues but sometimes are stubborn from learning their mistakes. can be deemed as very dreamy and compassionate.
♇ they could have this feeling of needing to save everyone. their trials and tribulations are a creative outlet for them, another indicator of being the tortured poet. [but the tiring and damaging things they go through are usually expressed through their art, which includes writing, story-telling, writing music, painting etc].
PLUTO IN RX
♇ i do get surprised when i come across these in a natal chart reading, but, pluto in rx folks definitely do hate constraint, they dislike authority and feeling like they're being controlled, which could push them into trying to control other people.
♇ could be escapists through drug and sex, they could also find it hard to accept their dark-self. easily infatuated people, people can get easily obsessed with them as they can get with other people.
♇ good money makers, could manipulate others with materialism, though, they might not be confrontational, could feel easily intimidated. sometimes could never see the potential in themselves can be their own obstacle.
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masterlist
pluto
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New Year's Kiss - p.b
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‣ paige bueckers x reader
‣ wc: 3567
‣‣ synopsis: you were known as one of the calmest, most well-tempered players on the ucon wbb roster. so what happens if you lose your cool for the first time in a game? takes place at the uconn vs notre dame game on dec 31, 2022: based off this post/req from my nonnie 🫶, and lowk inspired by paige's bloody nose at the uconn vs seton hall game!
‣‣‣ a/n: hey guys.... i'm so sorry for being so inactive but the writer's block hit me HARD. I have a few more drafts in progress I hope to release this week, thank y'all SO MUCH for the support and patience! Also, for the opponent in this game i refer to her solely as the, "marquette girl", as i don't know their players that well and don't want to use an irl girl!
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Up until the second half of the game, everything had been going decent for you. Sure, this game was one of the most aggressive of the season, but you were right in the peak of your season, so it made sense that emotions were running high with the pressure to do well.
But that didn't excuse the fact that the Marquette girl that had been assigned to defend you had been playing dirty the entire night. After the fucking hellish week you had just gotten through, this girl was about to be the straw that broke the camel's. your, back.
After Paige's acl tear in August and the work and energy you had been endlessly pouring into your game from the past two and a half years till now, you had basically solidified your place as one of the main starters on the team, which meant you were receiving a lot more consistent playing time. The thought of being a more prominent player on the team didn't panic you the way it might others, as you you were known for always being a very level-headed, reliable player under pressure, as you had been dubbed by the media as the "Silent Assassin". But tonight was proving to test your limits to the max.
Any time you were on the court for the first two quarters, the Marquette girl had been glued to you, illegally all up in your space, pushing and shoving at you, taunting you over and over again, and even tripping you once when you lunged for the ball. All of which she had done without receiving a single foul, which not only pissed you off, but also your teammates on the court, the players on your bench, and your coach.
And of course, the one time you had defended yourself against her in the second quarter was the only time the ref called a foul on both of you. She had nearly pressed herself up against you the second your hands came in contact with the ball, leaving you with no choice but to pass to your teammate Aaliyah to sink a layup, when she hooked her arm through yours and pulled just as the ball left your hands.
Her unnecessary aggression caused something to snap inside of you, as the second you felt her yank on your arm, you turned around to push her off of you, hard. She stumbled backwards a little bit, not tripping or hitting the ground in any way, but the damage had been done in the, very biased, eyes of the refs.
The two of you rapidly reacted, approaching each other as you were yelling out meaningless threats and a long string of curses. Thankfully, your teammates holding the two of you back firmly, preventing any further physical altercations.
The two of you both received technical fouls for the unnecessary physical contact and unsportsmanlike behaviour. However, the foul you received only irked you more. Why were the only fouls called on her when it involved you pushing back? Could they not see the way she was treating you the entire game?
And of course, Geno wasn't thrilled about one of his starters getting a tech in the first half of the game. While benched, he had chewed you out for losing your temper at her, especially for cursing, which was something refs never let slide. But his reprimands didn't hold the usual level of anger or frustration, as he internally agreed that the Marquette girl had it coming for her, but, he had to remain professional.
Of course basketball was a physical sport, and with aggression came some conflicts with other players, but her behaviour tonight was unprovoked and incredibly aggravating to you. Which only worsened in the third quarter.
After your tech, you had been trying your best to ignore the incredibly annoying actions of the Marquette girl, but you simply couldn't anymore after she had purposely elbowed you in the nose to make her shot.
You immediately stumbled backwards, folding over at the waist as your hands came up in an attempt to alleviate the intense throbbing your nose felt. You could feel the blood begin to dribble down to your lip as you walked over to the bench with Lou escorting you, awaiting the ref's call.
The refs decided to not call a foul on the other girl, claiming that she hadn't reached backwards on purpose, it was simply the angle of her basket and granted UConn two free throws. The call enraged you, and something inside you snapped. You very quickly forgot about the tissue you were firmly holding at your nostrils as you approached him, insisting with him that the call was blind and blatantly biased.
You hadn't noticed the blood resumed to flow down your face while arguing until it hit your mouth, but you paid no mind to the taste of iron that filled your mouth as you persisted angrily speaking to the ref.
"Paige, go get her before she gets another tech," Geno whispered into Paige's ears over by the bench.
She nodded at him, making her way over to you to pull you away from the ref who was now threatening to eject you from the game.
"Okay enough, you need to get checked out by the team medic," Paige wrapped her arm around your waist to pull you away from your heated conversation, despite your struggle against her. She wasn't that much taller than you, but the extra two ish inches she had on you were proving useful right now.
She dragged you over to the bench, ignoring your many protests. She pried the used, bloody tissue out of your fingers to toss to the medic waste bag, grabbing new ones from her hand to help your bloody nose. It was apparent to everyone on your team, even the fans watching, that your stubbornness wouldn't allow you to accept the call that easily and allow the medic to clean you up. So, Paige would just have to do it herself.
Since your first day on the Uconn campus, you and Paige had become extremely close. With the two of you being assigned roommates your freshman year, the COVID year, it would've been impossible to not become best friends, considering the fact that you spent all of your time together.
If not at practice or hanging out with the team, the two of you were trapped inside your dorm, forced to find company within each other for the entire year. And with Paige's injury her sophomore year, you were one of the only people she was able to open up to, other than Azzi, and you had become her comfort during her rehab time, both then and now. Despite no longer being roommates, you two still always hung out at each other's respective dorm, even having frequent sleepovers.
Your incredibly close relationship wasn't left unnoticed by the media either, especially social media platforms like tiktok. When Paige and Azzi denied the relationship allegations at the same time you made it clear that you liked girls, the internet quickly refocused their attention onto you and Paige, and neither of you had the heart to deny any rumors circulating. Considering that after Azzi, you were the least active on your social media when it came to anything other than basketball, it wasn't too hard to ignore the internet's speculation.
All of which to say, Paige had made it incredibly easy for you to catch feelings for her. Until her, you had never known what it was like to be completely head over heels for someone. The way your heart skipped any time the two of you made eye contact, the way your cheeks flushed when she brushed against you, and the chemistry the two of you shared on and off the court was undeniable.
Unbeknownst to you, she felt the exact same way, and for the last two years, everyone but you two could see the feelings you harbored for each other.
If only you could feel the way her heart was beating as she held your face in one hand, using the other to apply pressure to your nose and wipe away at the blood on your face, neck, and jersey as she listened to you rant about the refs and how they were cheating you guys out of fouls the entire game. Although, she wasn't able to focus on the words coming out of your mouth, only the plumpness of your lips as they moved, something you noticed as your verbal attack slowed down so you could take a breath in between your sentences.
"She's literally fucking stuck up my ass and the refs ignore her which is actual bullshit, the amount of times this girl has literally made unnecessary contact or-, Paige are you even listening to me?"
Her lingering gaze on your mouth quickly snapped up to your eyes, a sheepish smile settling onto her now flushed cheeks.
"Yeah, yeah sorry."
She wiped the remaining blood from around your nose before calling over the medic to check your nose. A small bruise had formed near the bridge, but thankfully it wasn't broken. While she was checking your nose, Paige did her best to avoid meeting your curious stares.
Of course the two of you had small moments where you could envision that Paige felt the same for you. But never one that was so blatantly obvious as her staring at your lips, especially so publicly.
Nonetheless, you barely had time to analyze the interaction before the medic was clearing you to return to the game, Paige patting your butt (this) as you jogged by her to sub back into the game, which, until the handshake line, went without any further incidents, despite your team beating them by 13 points (HVL VS TEXAS Y'ALL).
When passing by you, you heard her mutter under her breath, "fucking bitch," in response to your half-hearted, "good game". It was safe to say you didn't take that well, responding to her with, "you wanna come say that to my fucking face? Pussy ass bitch." For both of your sakes, Dorka and one of her teammates were able to keep pushing the two of you down the line and out to the lockers before the post-game conference with Lou, Nika, and Dorka, which Geno insisted you attend to apologize for your behaviour.
***Small Time Skip***
"So Y/N, the multiple incidents that occured tonight with you and (BLANK) from Georgetown, do you have anything to say about them? I mean, you're known for being a very calm and collected player, but tonight we saw a very different side of you," a reporter questioned you. The questions for you from tonight's post-game conference mostly avoided the fight, treading the waters carefully as it was unlike anything you had ever been involved in.
"I'm not gonna try and cover for myself or anything, it was unprofessional and unacceptable for me to lose my temper on the court like that. Like you said, I've always tried to place an emphasis on just basketball when playing and avoid any other personal feelings or problems, but I guess tonight I didn't do as good of a job on that as I could of. This is something that I will keep in mind for all of our upcoming games as that's not the kind of image or reputation I want to set for myself or the team I represent. I would never want this kind of behaviour to be defining moments from our games because my teammates really put their all into every single one of their games, especially tonight's, and I don't want to create any personal animosity with the girls on the Marquette team, as I have a lot of respect for them."
Your diplomatic and cordial answer had appeased majority of the reporters, along with Geno and the team publicist in the back corner of the room. Except for one nosy reporter who seemed unhappy with your tactful response and was practically feining for drama.
“This one is for y/n, but with the events of today, you mentioned that you try to keep all personal feelings off the court. Is that an implication of some external underlying tension or problems between you and number (BLANK), as the two of you got quite physical today?”
What the fuck? Now they really were trying to start something between the two of you that never existed in the first place.
“No not at all. I have no connection with number (BLANK) off the court and don’t even personally know her. As I mentioned before, I have nothing but respect for the girls at Marquette and there are no hard feelings on my end. You know, basketball is a physical contact game and that just means that there a few rough moments here and there, it’s just part of the game.”
If they ask any more stupid questions about you and the Marquette girl you were actually gonna lose your mind. Especially if they somehow tie in the fact that you like girls with the fight.
Which, thankfully, they ended up dropping the fight for the rest of the interview, and you and the others were finally allowed to go out and celebrate New Year's Eve the way they had originally planned to.
The whole team, and Kayla of course, was prepared to celebrate at your favorite local bar, Ted's. All of the girls who were taken were bringing their partners along and those of you who were single were all ready to hunt someone down for a drunken kiss at midnight. Except you.
You were far too down bad for Paige to even fathom kissing someone else at the moment, especially not while going out with her and the rest of the team, who all knew about your ginormous crush on Paige.
Nonetheless, you still did your best to get ready quickly, wearing your baggiest pair of low-rise cargo pants and a very cropped white halter tank top in an attempt to cheer yourself up from the fact you wouldn't have a New Year's kiss this year, again.
But by the time you were throwing back shots at the bar like they were water, you couldn't find it in you to care about how single you were. It was common knowledge that you weren't the best at holding your liquor, as the team often made fun of your ability to get drunk off of two to three shots, which is exactly the position you found yourself in.
Until, of course, "guardian angel Paige" decided she needed to intervene in your drinkfest, walking up to your barstool and effectively cutting you off by having the bartender replace your drink with a regular shirley temple just before midnight so that she, or any of your other friends, wouldn't have to deal with you throwing up at four in the morning.
"You gotta go easy on the shots y/n/n, you're gonna hate yourself in the morning if you keep drowning your liver in alcohol."
"Funny, coming from Storrs's resident party girl, Miss Madison," you teased. There were only about twenty minutes left until bar's tv would depict the ball dropping in New York, and the disparity of your situation had begun to sink in.
Not only would you be suffering through another New Year's with no midnight kiss, but you had no relationships since last year or even a single talking stage, no potential relationship prospects for the future, and worst of all, no Paige.
"Yeah well, at least I can hold my drinks. You, on the other hand, are the most lightweight out of all of us. Besides, what happened to your little New Years tradition, the whole eating the grapes thing to find the love of your life or whatever?"
You went off on a little drunken tangent at this, complaining that it was completely ineffective, but also, the fact that it made you look stupid in front of the entire team when absolutely nothing came out of it.
"I mean it's so dumb. I don't get why my love life is so barren, like actually non-existent, it's not like I'm super unattractive or anything like that. Right? But like, I don't even have a midnight kiss this year, again," you grumbled to Paige, unaware of the way she was staring at your lips for the second time today, mesmerized by their movements.
"You are most definitely not unattractive. You're like one of the most attractive people I know. Besides, it's not like I'm kissing anyone this year," Paige reassured you, and somehow, your drunk brain simply did not process the way she had flusteredly complimented you.
"Yeah but you're Paige Bueckers," you emphasized, "you could kiss anyone in this bar if you wanted. Men and women, single and taken, would literally form a line two blocks down if you even mentioned wanting to kiss someone," you gazed up at Paige from your leaned position against the bartop, watching as the gears turned behind her eyes.
"Anyone in the bar? Like, anyone at all?" She asked you curiously, a small smirk graced her features as she peered down at you.
"Yeah probably, but there's only like two minutes left or something, so you should pick someone soon."
"Oh I already have someone picked out, I just don't know if they would kiss me back."
"Oh?" You felt your stomach drop at her statement, and you couldn't stop the jealousy from coursing through your veins if your life had depended on it. But Paige's unwavering gaze never left your face, and you could feel your cheeks flush at the way she was intently looking at you.
"Quite the staring problem tonight P?"
"Well it's pretty hard to not stare at the prettiest girl in the room," she flirted, scooting closer to you, effectively closing some of the distance between you two.
"I-, what?" You stuttered, taken back by Paige's actions.
"How many hints does I have to drop before you finally start picking up on them? I want to kiss you y/n, I want you."
The ten-second countdown had begun as Paige confessed to you, and you were left gawking at Paige's face, your heart threatening to give out from how fast it was beating.
"FIVE, FOUR,"
You yanked on Paige's belt loop, pulling her flush against your body as your eyes focused in on her lips.
"THREE, TWO, ONE, HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!""
Your right hand reached up to grab Paige's jaw at the end of the countdown, pulling her lips firmly down onto yours. The bar's loud chants barely registered to you as you lost yourself in the intoxication of Paige's lips. Your tongue glided across her lip as your mouths moved in unison, causing her to groan into you. You took it as an invitation to slip your tongue into her mouth, the kiss deepening with unrestrained passion.
Your built-up need for each other was apparent as you made out, sending shivers down your spine at the pressure of her mouth against yours. It felt as if she was the oxygen you needed to breathe, and now that you had her, there was no way you could let her go now.
***The next morning: New Year's Day***
Your eyes fluttered open with a pounding headache, yet, the utterly familiar weight of a certain pairs of hands around your waist provided a sense of comfort you knew only she could provide.
Paige's soft snores rung out throughout the room, and as you gently reached forward to her nightstand to grab your phone off charging, you realize it was still extremely early in the morning, not even eight a.m.
And yet, your phone was blowing up with notifications from all social media platforms, even your text messages had over a hundred notifications.
Confused, you click on the apps to check what all the fuss was about, quickly realizing what had happened.
The entire interaction between you and Paige at the game was recorded by the cameramen and had instantaneously made it's way all over the internet, only fueling the dating rumors about the two of you.
The comments and posts were going feral at the way Paige was the only one who could calm you down, the way she wrapped her arms around your waist to pull you back, her holding your face ever so delicately, her smacking your butt as you ran back onto the court, and of course, her transparent staring at your lips the entire time you were an inch apart from her.
"What are you looking at baby," Paige sleepily mumbled into your neck, tightening her grip around your waist to pull you further into her, slinging her right leg over your waist.
You put your phone down and turned in her hold, wrapping your arms around her body as you peered down at Paige's sleepy face, admiring how beautiful she always looked.
"Your fans are going crazy about how obviously down bad you are for me P," you teased, running your foot up and down her calf as Paige pressed her face into your chest to absorb your body heat.
"Let them, just go back to sleep with me for a little bit longer."
And of course, how could you ever say no when your girlfriend was asking you so sweetly?
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a/n: thank you for reading all the way through, and i'm so sorry if the ending is kinda rushed, i just wanted to finally get another fic out 🤗
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kira-dofc · 3 months
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Bodyguard! Gojo x K-pop Idol Male reader
Part 1
Part 2
Notes: Sorry I was inactive for so long 😔 the Kuroo x male reader is killing me idk what to write so I js thought to myself what if I'd just made one for Gojo? Well anyways yes there's going to be a part 2 of this and yes I'm working on Kuroo 💖
Word count: 2400
Warnings: none 💖
-
Oh, to live a life like yours. You’re successful beyond measure, with a voice that can mesmerize, moves that can captivate, and a bank account that reflects your hard-earned fortune. But more than all of this, you are stunningly attractive. Fans fall to their knees at the mere sight of you, screaming your name with fervent adoration. Every world tour you embark on with your group sees you receiving the loudest chants, the most impassioned cries. You are undeniably the favorite, the center of attention in every sense.
Your popularity knows no bounds, transcending borders and cultures. Men and women alike would go to extraordinary lengths just to catch a glimpse of your perfect figure. Who wouldn’t? Perfection seems to be synonymous with your name. Every time your group makes a comeback, it is you who shines the brightest. The camera adores you, the spotlight gravitates towards you, and almost all of the lines in your songs seem to be crafted just for your voice. You are, without a doubt, the nucleus of your group’s immense success.
The world is in awe of you. Fanboys and fangirls from every corner of the globe idolize you, dream about you, and dedicate their lives to following your every move. Yet, amidst this whirlwind of fame and admiration, one thing perplexes everyone. Why, with all your perfection, are you still single? Any idol would be ecstatic to be with you, regardless of gender. Your charm knows no boundaries, and your appeal is universal. It’s a mystery that keeps fans up at night, fantasizing about the possibility of one day being the one to capture your heart.
Speculation runs rampant. Fans weave intricate fantasies where they imagine themselves by your side, filling the role of your perfect partner. Despite their daydreams, no one can figure out why you remain unattached. It's a paradox that adds to your allure, making you even more enigmatic and desirable. They imagine a million scenarios, all the while hoping that perhaps, just perhaps, they might be the one to break your spell of solitude.
But what the world doesn't know, what they couldn't possibly fathom, is that you've been in a relationship for almost two months now. The very day your group made its most recent comeback, you found yourself entangled in a romance that has brought a new kind of light into your life. The secrecy surrounding your relationship only adds to its intensity. It’s a connection built on mutual understanding, shared dreams, and a love that transcends the superficial adoration you receive from the masses.
The reveal of your significant other will be nothing short of earth-shattering for your fans. They’ve spent countless hours speculating about who could possibly be worthy of your affections. When the truth comes out, it will send shockwaves through your fanbase. The person you've chosen isn't just any idol; they are someone who matches your perfection, complements your strengths, and fills your heart in a way that no one else could.
In the end, the world will see that behind your flawless exterior, behind the spotlight and the chants, there is a person capable of deep, profound love. Your fans will be surprised, yes, but they will also come to understand that even someone as perfect as you deserves to experience the joy and intimacy of a genuine relationship. And as they daydream about marrying you, they'll have to come to terms with the fact that your heart already belongs to someone extraordinary.
-
4:00 a.m. The plane touched down, marking the penultimate stop of your extensive world tour. Just one more show remained before you could finally indulge in a well-deserved rest. You gathered your handheld bag, stepping off the aircraft with a sense of weariness and anticipation.
As you approached the "Arrivals" section of the quiet airport, you noticed the stark contrast between the calm you expected and the frenzy that awaited you. Despite the ungodly hour, paparazzi had gathered in droves, their cameras flashing incessantly, almost blinding you with their intensity. The cries of “Y/N! Over here! Y/N! Y/N!” pierced the early morning silence, mingling with the shouts of enthusiastic fans who seemed undeterred by the time.
You sighed, mustering a smile for the cameras. It was an experience you had grown accustomed to, yet it never ceased to astonish you how dedicated your fans were, even at such an hour. As you continued to navigate through the cacophony of lights and voices, your mind drifted to the comfort of the hotel room awaiting you.
Suddenly, the chaotic crowd shifted, and out of nowhere, a fan broke through, sprinting towards you with an intensity that caught you off guard. Your heart raced, but before you could react, your personal bodyguard, Gojo, intervened. He stepped in front of the fan with a menacing presence, his cold stare stopping them in their tracks. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, his voice low and threatening.
The fan recoiled, visibly shaken by Gojo’s imposing figure, and quickly retreated back into the crowd. Gojo turned to you, concern etched on his face. "You okay, sir?" he asked, his voice softening as he etched a reassuring smile.
"Y-yes, thank you!" you stammered, bowing slightly as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. You were grateful for his protection, though his proximity always seemed to make your heart flutter in a way you couldn’t quite explain.
A van soon arrived to transport you and your group to the hotel. The bodyguards formed a protective circle around you all, ensuring your safe passage into the vehicle. The drive was mercifully short, a brief 30-minute journey that allowed you a moment of respite from the relentless pace of your tour.
Upon reaching the hotel, the sense of exhaustion weighed heavily upon you. The events of the day had drained you more than usual, and all you could think about was the comfort of a bed. The receptionist greeted you with a polite smile, handing over the keycard to your personal room.
You thanked them and made your way to the elevator, your body moving on autopilot. The elevator doors closed, and you leaned against the wall, letting out a deep breath. The journey to your designated floor felt like an eternity, each second dragging as your mind wandered to thoughts of sleep.
Finally, the doors opened, and you stepped out, navigating the corridor to your room. You swiped the keycard, the door unlocking with a soft click. As you entered, you took in the serene ambiance of the room, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The bed looked inviting, and you could almost feel the soft sheets against your skin.
You set your bag down and took a moment to appreciate the solitude. The tour had been exhilarating, but it had also taken its toll. As you prepared for bed, your thoughts drifted to Gojo’s protective presence and the fleeting moment of connection you felt with him. It was a small comfort amidst the whirlwind of your life, a reminder that even in the chaos, there were moments of genuine human connection.
Finally, you slipped under the covers, letting the exhaustion wash over you. The last thought before you succumbed to sleep was of the final show tomorrow and the promise of rest that lay just beyond it. The world outside could wait; for now, you were content to let the quiet embrace of sleep take you away.
'
You woke up with a sudden woozy feeling, your eyes reluctantly opening to the glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. "3:00 p.m.," you groaned, checking your phone for the time. You stretched, blinked, and smacked your lips as you stared at the blank wall in front of you, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.
"Woof woof!" Your dog, Cherry, whom you managed to bring along despite the hectic schedule of your world tour, barked enthusiastically at you. He wagged his tail back and forth, jumping onto your lap with a joyful energy that brought a smile to your face. You patted his head, feeling the softness of his fur beneath your fingers. "Good morning, Cherry," you murmured, though it was well past noon. "Let's go. I'm so hungry..." You squeezed his cheeks affectionately before getting up and heading out of your room.
Before thinking about food, you decided to freshen up with a shower. Grabbing a towel from the neatly arranged drawer, you made your way to the bathroom. The hot water cascading down your body felt rejuvenating, washing away the exhaustion from your travels and performances. You stood there for a while, letting the steam envelop you, a rare moment of peace in your otherwise hectic life.
Once you were done, you dried off and rummaged through your luggage, looking for something comfortable to wear. Settling on a plain shirt and a pair of black jogging pants, you felt a sense of relief. The casual attire was a stark contrast to the elaborate costumes you wore on stage, and it felt good to just be yourself for a while.
With two days until your next concert, you decided to take it easy and rest. You picked up your phone and thought about how to pass the time. An idea struck you—why not do a livestream on Instagram? It had been a while since you connected with your fans in such a direct way, and it seemed like a good way to unwind.
Setting up the livestream, you watched as the viewer count quickly climbed, reaching 15,000 and still rising. "How's your day?" you read aloud from one of the comments. "Nothing much really, I'm just soooo tired," you chuckled, scrolling through more questions. The familiar 'will you marry me Y/N' and 'are you dating anyone' questions popped up, causing you to smile wryly. It was flattering, but also a bit overwhelming.
"Y/N, what do you think of Kim Chaewon?" another question asked. You raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Hmm, she's nice, I guess. Also, if this is one of your guys' traps, I'm not falling for those anymore." You stared into the camera, your fans admiring you through their screens.
As you continued to interact with your fans, you suddenly heard the sound of your door opening. A wave of panic washed over you. Had someone broken in? How could they have gotten past security? You had sworn you locked the door. Your mind raced with possibilities.
The door opened wider, and you saw a white-haired man kneeling, putting his shoes away. "Babeeee, what do you want to eat? Do you want to get it delivered, or do you wanna go out?" His voice was casual, but it sent a shock through you. You gasped, trying to quickly turn off the livestream, but it was too late.
The comments exploded in a frenzy:
"BABE?????"
"WHO IS THAT 😭😭"
"HE'S DATING SOMEONE!?!?!?!?"
"IT SOUNDS LIKE A GUY"
"OMGGGGGGGGGGGGG"
"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT BABE MEAN???"
You panicked, letting out a little squeal as you finally managed to turn off the livestream and shut your phone. "GOJO!" you screamed, your heart pounding in your chest.
"What?" he replied, looking at you with a mix of confusion and amusement.
-
"What do I do? What do I do? What do I do..." You paced back and forth, muttering the same words over and over, your mind racing. Gojo watched you, a smirk playing on his lips.
"You know, it's not half as bad," he said finally. "People will know that you're my property from now on."
"Still! I never wanted them to find out this way..." you sighed, collapsing onto the couch beside him. The weight of the situation settled over you, a mix of anxiety and resignation.
"It'll be okay. No matter what, I'm always with you." He reached out, touching your chin gently before pulling you into a hug. You hugged him back tightly, the comfort of his embrace grounding you.
"Thanks..." you whispered, feeling a sense of calm wash over you despite the chaos that had just erupted.
After a moment, you pulled back, determination in your eyes. "I need to do this right," you said. "I'll post a confession about us dating. It's better than letting rumors spiral out of control."
Gojo nodded, his expression serious. "Whatever you decide, I'm here for you."
Taking a deep breath, you picked up your phone, opening your Instagram app once more. You composed a heartfelt post, explaining how you had been dating your bodyguard, Gojo, for a while and how much he meant to you. You acknowledged that the livestream slip-up wasn't how you wanted to reveal your relationship, but you hoped your fans would understand and support you.
As you hit 'post', a sense of relief washed over you. It was out there now, and there was no turning back. You and Gojo sat together, waiting for the inevitable reactions. Notifications started flooding in almost immediately, a mix of shock, support, and a few inevitable negative comments. But overall, the response was more positive than you had expected.
Your fans, though surprised, expressed their happiness for you, many of them emphasizing their continued support no matter what. It was a heartwarming realization that even in your highly publicized life, there were people who genuinely cared about your happiness.
You turned to Gojo, a smile playing on your lips. "Looks like we're officially out in the open now," you said.
He grinned back, squeezing your hand. "About time," he replied. "Now, about that food—I'm starving."
You laughed, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Let's get something delivered. I think we've had enough excitement for one day."
As you placed the order, you felt a sense of peace. The world knew about your relationship, and while it wasn't how you planned, it felt good to no longer hide. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way. And with a concert in two days, you had plenty to focus on. But for now, you were content to enjoy a quiet evening together, knowing that no matter what, you had each other.
424 notes · View notes
brooklynisher · 2 months
Text
Hey all, you ever hear of Jaunty?
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[x]
Do you WANT to learn more about Jaunty?
Well I dug deep, and found some things I never thought I could find. I'm really excited to share what I've found with y'all. This post is sort of a little journey of how I found Jaunty.
There's a few sections to this.
Skip to But where does Jaunty come from? If you just want answers
Is Jaunty even a real character?
Jaunty, from what I originally found, is SUPPOSEDLY a Steam Powered Giraffe character. But where have we seen this character before? Was it the comic? Was it the timeline? Maybe in a song cover? Does the band ever talk about Jaunty?
And to answer all of your questions, no! At least not that I knew of. The only source of Jaunty’s existence is here.
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The Steam Powered Giraffe Wiki
So that makes this whole thing pretty complicated right? The wiki has info, and it’s not too inaccurate most of the time, but some of the lesser known/more nuanced information tends to get scuffed.
It really doesn’t help knowing that David has mentioned before that the information on the wiki wasn't that accurate.
What I’m saying is, the only proof we have for the existence of this character is on what might be one of the more unreliable sources of SPG information.
But despite that, this page is special in the fact that SUPPOSEDLY it was uploaded by Steam Powered Giraffe themselves!
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[x]
However, there isn’t really much of any information on this user at all. All we know is that they founded this wiki, added a few characters and a bit of information, and then became inactive. Really our biggest reasoning for believing that this was an actual SPG member is the fact that they are the founder and have been around for a very long time.
Okay, suspicions aside, let’s see what I found about this thing.
What the wiki tells us
One, this image was touched by the founder of this wiki twice, it was uploaded in 2011, and in 2014 they protected the page, which means only the administrators can edit the page.
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[x]
Both are pretty major years for SPG being the year Upgrade left the band and the year Rabbit transitioned, but there’s not many connections you can make with that.
This user was first active in 2010 and last seen in 2015 [x]
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Cool dates to have, but not a lot to work with. It mainly gives us a clear vision of what SPG was looking like at the time of the creation of this page. I can see this thing being used for a special, slightly themed show.
Of course, the information the wiki alone offers is very limited, but we know two things for sure. One, this character is a robot being under the category of robots, and two, these photos were taken by Cineria.
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[x]
So, here's the problem, you'd think that by having the name of the photographer, we could get far with that, but unfortunately, it is such a vague name, that there is just no way we could figure out who Cineria actually is. It really doesn't help that they don't seem to be a professional photographer. The only page I could find that connects both the name Cineria and Steam Powered Giraffe is this one.
Useless information
I started searching for stuff by reverse searching it. It wasn't really successful, as I was expecting, but I did find one thing.
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A different source.
This source doesn't go anywhere must you know. The ORIGINAL site, florist.buketbunga.com is still up an active serving as an Indonesian site for selling flowers, but this very specific link is broken, and the Wayback Machine doesn't know a thing about it.
The good news is, the link title alone gives us a ton of stuff to work with! Appropriately, the last part of this link translates to "Flower Bouquet Florist Shop Address Nearest 24 Hours Online", which makes sense.
What DOESN'T make sense is everything else coming before it. Specifically the Team Fortress 2 Wiki. This made me believe that someone used these sites to create a scam link, but it's weird because somehow, it's relevant?
Yandex was able to match these images of Jaunty to this site, and what's crazier, Jaunty is in the title of the link! But it's not just Jaunty, it's the Jaunty Explorer.
I did some searching, and discovered that the Jaunty Explorer originates from a TF2 livestream charity event called Tip of the Hats! Donations can earn you medals known as the Jaunty Explorer ($10 Donations), the Jaunty Ranger ($30 Donations), and the Jaunty Mountaineer ($100 Donations). They can come in many different color variations, but here are the main ones.
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[x] [x] [x]
There are TWO connections between this and SPG. One, the shared name of Jaunty, and two, hats. Steam Powered Giraffe is pretty big on hats. But, bad news, these are completely unrelated. Main reasoning? The image of Jaunty was posted to the wiki back in 2011, while Tip of the Hats as an event started back in 2013. Can't even take the "SPG was inspired by TF2" route with that.
Okay, but what even IS it?
Now we get into the visual aspect of this!
I tried to see if there was at least any way to identify what this is, but that solely relies on observational skills. There are two images of this thing, but the image with the blue background is much easier to make out.
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[x]
There's a lot that's going on with the design of Jaunty. Unfortunately, I'm not smart enough to identify what half of the doodads are. This machine, whether it's an actual machine or just a prop, is definitely a one of a kind as I couldn't find anything like this.
I talked with @boneinator about this, and he was able to read the text: "STAND CLEAR!" on the top of the doors of this machine which lead him to believe that it might be a time machine of sorts.
What we both managed to agree on when it came to the design of this thing however, was that it looks like a cabinet.
Now, like I said, this thing has a one of a kind design, so it's not going to look exactly like one thing or another, but it has similar features to other things such as to this cabinet
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[x]
Two longer doors on the upper half, and two smaller doors/drawers on the bottom. Is that actually what it is? I didn't know, but there is a resemblance.
One thing that's REALLY interesting about this machine is the intense amount of steam it lets out.
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[x]
So it's definitely a very active machine.
But where does Jaunty come from?
Something I've been wondering is how much of this is actually connected to SPG.
Is it theirs? Is this a part of a bigger thing? Is it just associated with them?
A bigger thing. There is one example of a big SPG show that comes to mind, and it was not just them.
During their 15 Year Anniversary Livestream, the band was asked about their favorite memories. Bunny mentions that one of her favorite memories was at a show called Clockwork Vaudeville. This was one of the band's first time having a massive audience. According to her, this was a time traveling show, and they performed alongside others.
I looked into it and found that the full name of this performance is called Clockwork Vaudeville Circus Cabaret. And there, I found a little advertisement for it as well!
youtube
The Kickstarter for this show started in late 2010
I did some more searching and realized there is a bunch of video from this show out there though all these clips are recorded at random intervals. Assuming that the uploader posted these clips close to the date of the actual show, we can see that this show took place in February of 2011!
About one month after this show, this page was added to the wiki.
I checked the clips, and guess what.
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Right there in the corner, there was Jaunty.
But that's not all
Not only have a found a video that contained Jaunty, I found a video that contained Jaunty in action!
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Unbelievably enough, it was a video of the band performing Honeybee alongside a pole dancer. And thanks to the title, we now know that this show took place February 19, 2011
Which all this confirms 100% that Jaunty IS a time machine.
Now with all things considered, Jaunty is not necessarily an "SPG character" as in they didn't create it. It's hard to say if Jaunty is even a character at all at this point! But it does exist in their world and they actively interact with it!
Who cheered? I cracked the code!
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barrenclan · 10 months
Note
sorry if this is spoilers bc we might learn more later. I'm super confused with Rainhaze's thought process. When he was saying its pointless. like. I get not wanting to go back bc he killed his mom. but what did that have to do with Asphodelpaw? Couldnt he just walk away? Did he see her and decide he wanted to be part of Defiance? And this was the tipping point to prove it? I'm super confused. Was it because if she left she'd tell someone? I assume we'll get a better explanation later?
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Absolutely! I've actually been waiting for a chance to really dig into this. Like Rainhaze himself, his issue is written with a lot of confusion and uncertainty, and it's not very straight-forwardly, so I understand why his motivations are easy to miss. So here it is!
Firstly; Rainhaze as he existed in BarrenClan and Rainhaze as he is now are two very, very different beasts. Obviously he's still the same person, but he's gone through a mountain of trauma, violence, and was forced to confront the fact that if pressed, he would kill a family member - even his own mother. Sure, in the moment he was threatened into doing it, but it opens the possibility that he'd even do that. Maybe he would've done anything to protect his family then, but it's been a long time.
Then, over many months, he's subjected to propaganda, murder, and terrible treatment. His mental state from where he was when he killed Dustfeather is massively changed. He's depressed, listless, and much more willing to kill. Not only that, but Defiance propaganda has worked on him.
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(Issue 24)
With so much constant killing in his life, and being constantly vulnerable, he begins to see death as a good thing. Something that ends suffering, something that doesn't really matter in the end.
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(Issue 28)
So now we're at Issue 31. Rainhaze is in a "doldrum", like Ranger says (a period of inactivity or lethargy). He's so torn between his new life and new beliefs, and his old regrets and old connections to BarrenClan, that he's basically attempting to end his own life through inactivity. Ranger doesn't want this. Here's his plan:
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Ranger knows that BarrenClan lives opposite the forest, across the prairie. He specifically orders Rainhaze to "kill something", planting that idea in his mind. He's hoping that Rainhaze will find one of his Clan members, and make the decision to kill one of them. This would push Rainhaze over into whatever full breakdown Ranger wants, and solidify his ties to Defiance. And that is what happens. So why did Rainhaze make that decision?
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We already have the basis of an incredibly traumatized Rainhaze. He views himself as he is now, and who he used to be, as different people. And he belives that's completely beyond redemption.
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Yes, all those months ago he promised he was suffering in Defiance for his family and Clan, but it's really hard to hold onto those noble morals when you're being put through hell every day. Rainhaze hasn't even seen his family in months. They don't seem real to him anymore.
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Then he is finally confronted by Asphodelpaw, the symbol of everything he's put himself through torture to protect, and all he wants to do is go back to Defiance. And here we go, getting to these lines;
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Rainhaze is a coward.
He's separated from Deepdark and Ranger, by at least several days. He could absolutely come home with Asphodelpaw and warn all of BarrenClan - they could evacuate in time, be far away by the time Defiance arrives on their territory. But then he'd have to face his family, face his sister whose mother he violently murdered. Have to stand there and have them look at him and know him and see the scars on his body.
When he says, "this is vile, pointless, irredeemable, monstrous", he understands that killing Asphodelpaw is a disgustingly cruel action. He knows that. He understands that he's choosing Defiance over her, and over them. But that's the choice he feels he needs to make to protect himself. He's not thinking about his family any more.
So he does something so completely vicious and irredeemable that he is forced to choose Defiance. Because there's no way that any BarrenClan cat would forgive him for this. There's no way he would forgive himself for this.
And thus, Rainhaze figures himself out, and burns every other bridge entirely. He makes his choice.
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olenvasynyt · 7 months
Text
Feyre is a shitty friend to Lucien if she’s ever been a friend to him at all
This is going to be a long post and yeah I have made two tiktoks about this already and yes people got very mad at me but I’m going to post in on here anyways!!
In Chapter 3 of ACOWAR, Lucien says, “You are a better friend to me, Feyre, than I ever was to you.”
And I couldn't disagree more. This is just so so wrong.  I think Feyre has been such a shitty friend to Lucien if she’s even been a friend to him at all.
If you can’t handle criticism towards Feyre then just scroll past!  And I have so many things to say but Feyre being a shitty friend definitely starts in ACOWAR.  She’s constantly lying to him, making wrong assumptions about him, she uses him.
And I understand that is all for her plan to take down Spring; she can’t really tell anyone the truth because it’ll ruin her cover but a lot of the things she does concerning Lucien and how she’s his friend, are kind of fucked up.
Constantly lying to him and using him in Spring
Now I thought the nightmare scene with Feyre and Lucien was excellent and very entertaining to read but when you think about how Feyre is using Lucien, her “friend”, in a sexual way to get back at Tamlin and turning them against each other…it makes her a shitty friend.
Chapter 5 of ACOWAR: I waited the five minutes it took Tamlin to decide not to kill Lucien, and then smiled. I wondered if Lucien had pieced it together…  A nightmare, I had told Tamlin. I was the nightmare. Preying on what Tamlin had feared from my very first days here… I had no doubt Tamlin was now running through every look and conversation since then.  Every time Lucien had intervened on my behalf…weighing how much that new mating bond with Alain held sway over his friend…
And she continuously gets Lucien to touch her to goad Tamlin’s jealousy and also Ianthe’s jealousy.  She does it very often while they’re in Spring: an example is when they sleep in the tent together.  They basically end up cuddling each other and Jurian sees.  And though it wasn’t on purpose, Feyre thinks about how it would be perfect if that got to Tamlin.  
Chapter 6: I’d rolled onto Lucien’s bedroll at some point, any schemes indeed second to my most pressing demand—warmth.  But I had no doubt Jurian would tuck away the information to throw in Tamlin’s face when we returned: we’d shared a tent, and had been very cozy upon awakening.
She is using him.  She admits it when we get to the scene with Ianthe SAing Lucien.
Why she saved Lucien from Ianthe
And getting to this point soon:  
So in an earlier conversation they have, Lucien talks about how he did the rite in Tamlin’s place and he completed it with Ianthe.  Feyre can see that lines were blurred.  Ianthe had continuously sought Lucien and she got what she wanted.  And Feyre says she should have been there to stop it.
Chapter 3 of ACOWAR: He might have completed the Great Rite with Ianthe of his own free will, but he certainly hadn’t enjoyed it.  Some line had been blurred—badly… The weight of that jeweled knife and belt seemed to grow.  “I wish I had been there to stop it.  I should have been there to stop it.”  I meant every word. Lucien squeezed our linked arms as we rounded a head, the house rising up before us.  “You are a better friend to me, Feyre,” he said quietly, “than I ever was to you.”
And this brings in the quote I brought up in the beginning. ANd I will make a whole separate post on Lucien’s inaction in ACOMAF but what he says just tells me that he feels guilty for not doing enough to help Feyre with Tamlin locking her up.
Feyre said she should have been there to stop it.  Alright well, when the time came and she was given an opportunity to stop Ianthe, Feyre was thinking about how she could keep going and just leave Ianthe to SA Lucien and let it happen.  She is going against her word.  and that makes her a hypocrite and terrible friend.  
Chapter 9: Keep going.  They were distracted, horrible as it was. Keep going, keep going, keep going. “I thought you’d seek me out after the Rite,” Ianthe purred.  They couldn’t be more than thirty feet through the trees.  Far enough away not to hear my presence, if I was quiet enough.
And Feyre realizes that her using Lucien was a bad move, so Feyre’s guilt encourages her to save Lucien not out of any genuine friendship. 
“You don’t act that way with Feyre.” A silk-wrapped threat. “You’re mistaken.” “Am I?” Twigs and leaves crunched, as if she was circling him.  “You put your hands all over her.” I had done my job too well, provoked her jealousy too much with every instance I’d found ways to get Lucien to touch me in her presence, in Tamlin’s presence.
But another thing that causes her to save him is because this moment reminds her of when Ianthe assaulted Rhys.
I made it about a hundred yards into the cover of the trees before I halted. I heard Lucien first. “Back off” A low female laugh. Everything in me went still and cold at that sound.  I’d heard it once before—in Rhysand’s memory.
and Lucien saying “do not touch me” is exactly what Rhys says and this is what pulls Feyre out of her plans to keep going and save him instead.  
Chapter 21 of ACOMAF: Rhys learned close to breathe in her ear, “don’t you ever touch me.  Don’t ever touch another male in my court.”
Chapter 9 of ACOWAR: “Do not touch me,” he growled. And then I was moving.
This moment is echoing Ianthe going after Rhys, from the way Ianthe acts to the hand-breaking situation because Feyre was replicating what Rhys did to Ianthe’s hand.  And in my opinion, Feyre breaking her hand was not only revenge for Lucien but also revenge for Rhys.  And that’s not inherently bad but Feyre is not saving Lucien because she’s a good friend and she cares for his well-being.  If that were true, she would have never thought of leaving him to get SAed by her in the first place.
Not trusting him, questioning his priorities 
When they’re traveling through Autumn she continues to not trust him, she continues to make assumptions about him and assume the worst.  She questions his priorities when it comes to Elain and assumes that he’s only coming along to get what he’s owed.  But then she wants him to have sympathy for her and Rhys as mates.  It’s just very one-sided.
Chapter 12: “You kissed Under the Mountain.” “I had little choice in that as I did with the dancing.” “And yet this is the male you now love.” “He didn’t know—he had no inkling of the personal history, the secrets, that had opened my heart to the High Lord of the Night Court.  They were not my stories to tell. “One would think, Lucien, that you’d be glad I fell in love with my mate, given that you’re in the same situation Rhys was in six months ago.”
Compare this to Chapter 11:
“And that’s why you’re here.  Not because it’s right and he’s always been wrong, but just so you can get what you think you’re owed.” “She is my mate and in my enemy’s hands��“
So Rhys and Lucien were in the same situation: both had their mates in their enemy’s hands and want to keep them safe.  Was Rhys only getting what he thought he was owed as well?  No.  So why can’t Feyre offer the same courtesy?
Again, ready to abandon him in Spring
And there’s literally a part when they're running in Autumn where Lucien basically asks “are you actually my friend?” and Feyre doesn’t answer.  
Chapter 11: “You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned?  Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply of fear of what it might do to [Elain]?” I didn’t answer.  “Well?  What was your grand plan for me before Ianthe interfered?” I pulled at a stray thread in the bedroll.  “You would have been fine,” was all I said.
To actually answer your question, Lucien: she wasn’t planning on sparing you.  She used you and was ready to leave you.
Lucien is a bigger man than me because I would have probably yelled in her face.
Again, uses him to get revenge against Tamlin
Also when he asks her where he’ll fit in in the NC,she thinks about how she would only offer him the position to keep Elain from Spring and to get back at Tamlin.
Chapter 12: “And where, exactly, do you believe I will fit in?  The Night Court? I didn’t answer.  I didn’t have one, honestly.  As High Lady I could likely offer him a position, if we survived long enough to make it home.  I’d do it mostly to keep Elain from ever going to the Spring Court, but I had little doubt Lucien would be able to hold his own against my friends.  And some small, horrible part of me enjoyed the thought of taking one more thing away from Tamlin, something vital, something essential. “We should leave at down,” was my only reply.
Lucien is vital, but not because of his talents as an emissary and how he would benefit the Night Court.  It’s because Tamlin wouldn’t have an emissary.
Feyre just lies to him and assumes stuff and uses him…overall, she’s just such a selfish friend and I’m fairly sure that she doesn’t even consider Lucien her friend at this part, despite several things that would go against that.  Lucien seems to consider or had considered her a friend.  
And then I got a part two because there’s just more things.
Being unwelcome when they get to Night
And now we are getting to one of my biggest gripes with Feyre.  When they get back to the Night Court she has the reunion with Rhys.  They almost immediately go off and have sex and sure, I get it: they’re mates, they haven’t seen each other in a while, they didn’t know if they would ever see each other again.  It’s very emotional.  But when they are done having sex, Feyre goes down and sees Lucien in the sitting room, still in his dirty clothes.  Feyre thinks about how she should offer him something…but then the thought vanishes as soon as Rhys steps to her side.
Chapter 15: “Lucien was waiting in the sitting room when Rhus and I came downstairs at last… I fought my cringe as I halted at the threshold.  Lucien was still in his travel-worn, filthy clothes.  His face and hands, at least, were clean, but…I should have gotten him something else.  Remembered to offer him— The thought rippled away into nothing as Rhys appeared at my side.
FEYRE.  You literally just finished fucking him and putting on your wedding rings, stop thinking of Rhys and offer your “friend” some clean clothes, a bath, SOMETHING!!!!  He has his face and hands washed probably because he washed them in the fucking kitchen sink because he doesn’t know where the bathroom is because no one has given him a tour and they still don’t give him a tour after this…
This is infuriating to me.  So infuriating.  It’s not only being a shitty friend but also a shitty hostess.
And then they have their talk where they explain everything to him, Lucien finally understands what has been going on, he knows that Rhys has been wearing a mask the whole time and that the NC is good…and then he is finally offered clothes and a bath.  By fucking Rhys too not by Feyre.
Chapter 16: “I assume you’ll need clothes,” Rhys went on, nodding toward Lucien’s filthy jacket and pants—which he’d worn for the past week while we scrambled through territories.  Indeed, that was…blood splattered in several spots.
Not communicating, having no important talks as friends or allies
And then the entire time Lucien is in Night, she does not try to have any meaningful talks besides the one where she and Rhys explain everything to him.  She often says it’s for another time.  But they never have any sort of conversation, even if it would just be beneficial as allies, if not friends.
There is a weird sort of mistrust for him. They not only don’t trust Lucien with Elain but also just information in general and this mistrust takes way too long to fade.  From a political standpoint, I get it: he is / was a close friend and courtier to Tamlin, they did ally with Hybern.    But Feyre acknowledges he was remorseful.  And when they’re in Spring he speaks up and tells Tamlin his mistrust and dislike towards allying with Hybern.  But Feyre just speaks over that.  
And I just don’t understand this mistrust with Elain and assuming he’ll steal her away, which is what Rhys implies.  
Chapter 19: “If he got Elain away, back to Spring or wherever…do you believe, deep down, that he wouldn’t sell what he knows?  Either for gain, or to ensure she stays safe?” I considered his question: Did I trust Lucien?  “I don’t know, either,” I admitted, and sighed.  “I don’t like that Elain is a pawn in this.” “Did he discuss what he feels regarding Tamlin?” “Non.  I didn’t want to push on that.  He was…remorseful about what happened with me, and Hybern, and Elain.  Would he have felt that way without Elain in the mix?  I don’t know—maybe.  I don’t think he would have left, though.”
But Lucien explained to Feyre that he hated how Elain was in an enemy’s hands and wanted to make sure she was okay and he knows now that the IC is good and she’s safe, but you still mistrust him?  You are just completely ignoring everything and thinking the worst of him, and as I said before, not offering him the same courtesy you want him to have for Rhys.
Also Elain is a pawn because you are making her a pawn.
Lucien has good intentions.  He wants to do good.    With Hybern, he has not only explains his dislike for allying with them before to her but he sneaks off and sent stuff to Nuan for research to find a preventative against faebane.   He goes to find Vassa to basically redeem himself, he says it was “about time he did something”.  
And about Elain: Lucien is not demanding to see her.  He literally just sits around on his ass and waits and is courteous.  There’s no malicious intent.  He is so kind and respectful.  And if you are so mistrustful towards him that you set up rules for him to follow, maybe just ask him.  Ask permission to look in his mind maybe?  
Feyre and Rhys and the IC have a set of morals that they follow sometimes but then choose not to follow when it conveniences them.  That is a whole other discussion in itself but literally so many things that went wrong with their friendship could have been solved if they actually talked and Feyre wanted to listen to him.  
When Lucien and Elain finally talk one-on-one and Feyre goes into his mind (again, out of mistrust), Feyre discovers that Lucien has no ill intentions.  Lucien didn’t even mean to find Elain there in the library.  He just wanted a walk and to get a book, he didn’t realize she was there, he did not intentionally seek her out and break Feyre’s rule, despite what Rhys says.
Chapter 24 of ACOWAR: He hadn’t expected her to be here.  The other sister—the viper—was a possibility, but one he was willing to risk…he’s been cooped up in this wind-blasted House for two days. He just wanted a walk—and a few books.  It had been an age since he’d ever had free time to read, let alone do so for pleasure. But there she was. His mate.
Getting jealous he has friends / the entire fight they have in ACOFAS
Feyre seemed to have redeveloped her affection for Lucien by the end of ACOWAR but it took way too long and she is still an ass even after everything he’s done for her and for the good of Prythian.  
In Frost and Starlight with their fight that causes him to leave before the Solstice…by fucking god.  I truly hate everything about this conversation.  Feyre is just so wildly frustrating.  I discussed it before so I feel like I don’t need to go a whole lot into it because I already ripped this scene apart word for word.
Chapter 18 of ACOFAS: I rose as well.  ‘But Jurian and Vassa’s is fine?’ ‘You’d be surprised to see how well the three of us get along.’ Friends, I realized.  They had somehow become his friends.  ‘So you would rather stay with them?’ ‘I’m not staying with them.  The manor is ours.’” ‘Interesting.’ His golden eye whirred.  ‘What is.’ Not feeling very festive at all, I said sharply, ‘That you now feel more comfortable with humans than with the High Fae.  If you ask me—‘ ‘I’m not.’ ‘It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without their homes of their own as well.’”
Lucien talks about how he and Vassa and Jurian have been getting closer and Feyre gets almost jealous that he has found friends and a life outside of the Night Court and the Inner Circle.
Of course he wanted to find other friends besides you, Feyre.  It’s not like you have welcomed him with open arms.
And then this quote: “It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without homes of their own as well.”
So you’re admitting that the Night Court isn’t his home?  That he’s not welcome here, he has no friends here?
And then she realizes she fucked up she tries to correct herself:
Chapter 18 of ACOFAS: “Lucien stared at me, long and hard.  ‘Happy Solstice to you, Feyre.’” He turned toward the foyer, but I grabbed his arm to halt him.  The corded muscle of his forearm shifted beneath the fine silk of the sapphire jacket, but he made no move to shake me off.  ‘I didn’t mean that.  You have a home here.  If you want it.’”
He doesn’t want it.  He talks about how he can’t go to Spring anymore not just to Tamlin but to the court outside of the manor because of how Feyre ripped down Spring.  Feyre shows no remorse for that.  And he also talks about how he can’t stand to be in Night around Elain.  He doesn’t feel welcome here for all of those reasons and from the fact that you are just the worst friend ever.  
And then she proceeds to make fun of the Band of Exiles and mock him despite the work they are doing for the land she used to live in as a human.  The Band of Exiles is a stupid name but Feyre doesn’t have a right to call it bullshit.
They have not had any meaningful conversations about their friendship.  They could sit down and actually talk about what happened like civil people, I think they both have to still fully admit where they were wrong and apologize for the mistakes they’ve made.  But Lucien seems to have already apologized more than Feyre ever will.  He apologizes, he says Feyre was a better friend than he was, he feels guilty, he says he needs to actually do something and he looks for redemption.  In ACOWAR when he is still in the Night Court, he has better manners than Feyre does, he apologizes and says thank you so many times.
And their fight in ACOFAS is basically the last thing we got of their friendship because he does come to the solstice party in Silver Flames which I am amazed by actually.  I feel like he is still holding on to Elain and his allyship (I’m going to call it allyship) with Feyre and the Inner Circle.  After everything she’s done to him, he’s still pushing through it.  And I think that makes him a better person than Feyre.  Strong opinion but.  Jesus.
I could go for even longer but I’ll stop and I’ll end by saying Lucien deserves better.
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s1llysmut · 2 months
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Hello I’m not sure if your requests are open or not but can you do nsfw alphabet or headcanon for Carmilla or Velvette (I’m down bad for them)
A/N: Sorry for being so inactive guys!!! Been super busy with work sorry!!
NSFW alphabet for Carmilla
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Her eyes immediately go from lustful to full of love. She kisses your forehead and curls up with you to sleep. She’ll clean up in the morning.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Her favourite body part on herself is her hands. They’re big and that can be used for many things. Her favourite part of your body is your waist and your muscles, depending on your body type. (She loves all body types)
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
She won’t let herself get too dirty which is why she will never allow you to cum on her body. She just finds it gross.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
She would be into stepping on you while she’s in her pointy shoes.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
She always knows what she’s doing.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Riding you or missionary.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Serious the entire time until you’re both finished.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
She doesn’t shave. She’s all natural everywhere.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
It depends on her mood, the occasion, and your mood of course.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
She doesn’t masturbate ever. She only does it if she’s in front of you to tease you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Oh she’s a dommy mommy. This lady is tying you up, blood play, knife play, degradation, bdsm, sadism, and if you’re lucky you might get a bit of praise.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Your bedroom or the sex dungeon that she has.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
If you get bratty or catch an attitude she is putting you in your place ASAP.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
She won’t let you top/dominate her. Ever. It just makes her feel incredibly weak, insecure, and uncomfortable.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
She likes making you eat her out. She will tug you by a leash even.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
It depends what will torture you more.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
She doesn’t do quickies. She finds them impractical and inconvenient.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Yes. She will take risks of all sorts. Unless it involves her losing control/power, or puts you in any real danger.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
She can go for so many rounds. Soooo good luck you’ll need it.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
She will use toys on you. Anything that you show interest in, she will buy it immediately.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Very unfair. Edging you is one of her favourite things ever.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
She moans and degrades you a lot. Occasionally she will praise you.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
She makes you call her mommy or mistress in the bedroom.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
She’s got some massive honkers. Mommy milkers if you will. Fat ass too. She a thick lady.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Fairly high. Probably every other day.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Almost immediately. As soon as you’re in her arms.
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xshines · 6 months
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mizu x reader enemies to lovers
sry for being inactive, im lazy af; also i might continue this one
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Falling pieces of snow slowly began to cover the surface of the broken sword, thrown somewhere in the distance on the cold ground, no longer incapable of saving you. The cold snow slowly began to compact and melt beneath your shivering, warm body. The cold metal of your rival's sword blade hugs your thin neck. You dared to look up at her as she hovered over you, her expression blank. She finally has you. She looks at you lying so pathetically in front of her now. She squints those blue eyes of hers to scan you once again, your scratches, your torn clothes, a moment longer she lingers on your torn side, which stains your clothes and the snow beneath you with a dark crimson. But finally her eyes land on your face, finally able to take a closer look at the face of one that has been getting under her skin so much lately. Her enemy. Oh, how she hated you.
You know your fate very well, you are very aware of what is about to happen. Even though your body is shaking from exhaustion, from the snow and cold wind, you try not to show your fear. Despite your increasingly throbbing wound, you don't even hiss or whine. You're not asking for mercy. On the contrary, you frown and even give her that defiant look. Like you're daring her to cut your neck.
She hesitates, hesitates the longer she looks into those big eyes of yours. She has killed countless men, but their facial expressions were different, they were afraid, they were begging, they were screaming, asking for mercy. You are different. The sight of your helpless body, covered with blood dripping from your side, invokes sympathy and nostalgia in your eyes. For some reason, she finds in them a strange innocence that she herself was stripped of a long, long time ago. You look so soft. You look so pretty. “You’re so young…” her voice whispers while her eyes stare into your face. You could only wonder why she hadn't yet swung her blade and sliced your neck cleanly once and for all. "Does it matter now?" You answer in an equally quiet, hoarse voice. The cold wind blows strands of hair and sticks them slightly to your forehead.
Your words echoes in her head. She is brave. You haven’t shown fear nor pleaded for life, which makes her feel…something. She is strong. The cold blade still doesn't pierce the soft skin. "Why didn't you ask for mercy...?" She speaks quietly, only a silent breeze passes by, whispering snow in her hair. She is special. Not many survive an encounter with her, even those who have begged and fallen to their knees.
More and more you felt the blood flowing down your side, staining your clothes and coloring the snow. You just snorted at her question. Despite how much blood you've already lost, you still collect the remaining energy to growl in response. "I am not a dog. I'm not going to whine for mercy." You even dared to give her that determined look again.
All sorts of thoughts were running through Mizu's head now. She’s not afraid. She doesn't know her place. She's just like me. She lowers her katana. Her enemy is more than just an enemy.
"What are you doing?" The question falls from your lips as your eyes follow the blade as it moves away from your neck. „You should kill me.”
The moral monologue battles deep within Mizu. She still wants me to kill her. I should kill her. With the sound of the blade, Mizu raises her sword and returns it to its scabbard. Her gaze falters — a rare moment of weakness. "How old are you?" She steps closer as her voice echoes in the snow-covered landscape, while her blue eyes scan their enemy's body, taking in every tiny detail — bruises, scars, wounds. A glance at the blood that continues to seep down your side and stain the snow. An unexpected feeling, unknown to her, wells within her. An urge to protect this young person, as if you had reminded her of her younger self.
This sudden change in attitude surprises you. You swallow, gritting your teeth as you consider whether to answer the question or ignore it. After all, you no longer have a weapon, and even if you wanted to get up and run away, with this wound by your side, it wouldn't be difficult to catch up with you. "… 20." Mizu frowns when she hears the answer. She really is just like me. You are only a few years younger than her, but you have already chosen this terrible path of violence. “Stand up” she demands quietly. You look sharply at Mizu, as if trying to feel the catch. Slowly, you tuck your legs and push yourself up into a sitting position with your arms. You grit your teeth and widen your eyes as now your wound reminds you even more of its existence. After a moment of deep breaths, you gather yourself to get up. You'd rather bite your tongue than hiss in pain in the presence of your enemy, and finally you slowly, swaying slightly, stand in front of her.
Mizu’s gaze remains fixed on her rival, not taking her eyes off you for a single second. She sheaths her katana entirely, and a soft snow breeze fills her senses. The sound of snow crunching beneath her enemy’s feet resonates inside her mind, echoing inside of her heart. "What is your name?"
You think for a moment. You don't have the strength to think about why she's suddenly asking you so much information about you. The only thing you focus on is the throbbing pain at your side. "[Y/N]" You reply quietly, your head slightly bowed as you grab your side and try to apply pressure to your wound. “[Y/N]…” Mizu repeats after you. Her enemy’s name echoes in her mind, as if a whisper. The cold wind passes by, caressing her senses, touching her face with invisible fingers, carrying a hint of fresh winter air. Her blue eyes soften, as if looking at the most beautiful thing in existence. “Your name…is beautiful…" she sighs, unable to take her eyes off her enemy. “…like you,” Your face relaxed slightly at this sudden compliment. It's been a long time since anyone complimented you or your appearance. You opened your mouth as if you wanted to say something, but after a while you remembered the situation you were in and frowned again. She is your enemy. „Shut up” You groaned, unable to hold in the pain any longer. You lowered your head and clenched your eyes and teeth. When you looked at your hand, entirely stained with blood, you shuddered. Mizu watched your reaction very carefully. Deep down, she admired you for still having the nerve to tell her to shut up despite bleeding profusely and being on the verge of death. She's strong. She’s beautiful. “I’m taking you with me,” Mizu said sternly, as she approached you. She lifted you, her enemy into her arms.
Her closest enemy. Oh, how she adored you.
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moeblob · 8 days
Text
As an attempt at a polite "going forward" comment...
I do not plan to draw for Three Houses or Hopes for a long while. I know a lot of my followers are from the past four years and I appreciate that you followed me at all! But if you are only interested in the art of those characters I wanted to be clear and say you can unfollow me at any point if what i draw no longer aligns with what you want to see.
I might draw for other FEs (like Heroes or 13/14/17) but I do not want to get involved with 3H any more. I do have other interests and across tumblr, twitter (now inactive), and sometimes on discord I've heard enough "I thought it was (FE3H character)".
This is not one person doing it and it is not simply one character being mistaken. I simply want to distance myself from 3H and have unfollowed a few people that reblog art of it because it just leaves a lingering bad taste in my mouth.
My ask box will continue to remain closed on this account for a little while longer which I apologize for. If you are okay with continuing to follow me but have something you would like me to tag as a warning please DM me for it! I do not want you to be uncomfortable if you want to stick around but I do not have the ask box open for a couple reasons currently.
Thank you very much for your time and I hope you can find artists who can provide art for topics you like.
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mrinafria · 4 months
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Just last night I was sitting there going through my edit drafts, and I looked at this scene, to notice all these things Seon Jae does before/during the live radio call.
Really wasn't going to write about OG Seon Jae after my last post on him. I never knew I had such a masochistic side to me until Lovely Runner because all I've done since this show started is go back to rewatch episode 1-4, over and over and over and over again as if this was a hell loop I created for myself.
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There's hope, anticipation, a bit of excitement too. He will hear her voice. Again. He will get to talk to her. For the first time. Yeah. The OG Seon Jae never got to talk to Im Sol. He admired her, crushed on her, liked her, observed her, tried whatever he could as a 19yo to save her, but he never, ever got to talk to her. This is the very. first. time. he's able to have a conversation with her.
But she doesn't pick up. And he has to put a leash on his emotions in those few seconds because this version of Ryu Seon Jae stopped showing his true emotions long back. Ah, this was the only chance I had. I wish I could talk to her. I wish I could hear her voice. I wish I could know how she's been doing. Just once. Just this one time.
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He introduces himself using his name. Not along with his band name, which is the usual practice, mind you. And a very little pause before going "Do you know me?"
Sometimes when you long for a person, crave for their voice, their smile, their presence in your life and your world, you desperately want to be present in their world too, no matter how trivial your presence or your existence might be to them. Seon Jae hoped she would remember; even if she didn't consider him her savior (which he never thought he was) he desperately wanted some semblance of familiarity in her voice, even if it was out of nothing but resentment. Maybe even something as painful as How dare you call me.
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And she does share her resentments, not towards Seon Jae the 19yo boy who she doesn't remember, but Ryu Seon Jae the idol, along with everyone present there, for putting her through this misery, triggering her worst trauma and twisting the knife in her wound that has already driven her to the brink of ending it all. Everyone is uncomfortable here, except for this one guy. He's back to reliving that incident that forever changed her life, his life and brought them to this moment here. He is reminded of just how big of a failure he is, for failing this one person he never wanted to fail. He is reminded how a moment of indecision/inaction on his part led to the person he loves the most to be this miserable. In this moment above, you look at him and realize it's no longer Ryu Seon Jae; it's the 19yo Seon Jae, the one at the reservoir, the one who kept chanting mianhae to an unconscious Im Sol, the one who waited on that bench while she underwent surgery--clutching on to the watch in anguish as if that was the only thing keeping him from falling apart--the one who stood by her hospital door, listening to her screams while shattering into a million pieces inside. It's the 19yo Seon Jae who would be haunted by her screams and live for the remainder of his brief life in extreme guilt and regret mixed with intense longing, until he meets his untimely demise on that fateful night.
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I often wonder if he could sense it from her voice on the call. Just how close she was to the edge, how she was probably going to do something that very day right after the call ended. Was it because he felt her pain as if it were his own? You see him springing to action right when we think it's over, as if he is desperate to help her, any. way. he. can. You see how restless his eyes get all of a sudden? He likely wants to say so many things to her. Sol-ah, I'm glad to hear your voice. Sol-ah, I'm sorry. Sol-ah, I hope you are okay. Sol-ah, I'm grateful you are here. Sol-ah, I'm really sorry I couldn't do better. I'm so sorry I failed to wake you up. I'm sorry I let you miss your stop. I'm sorry I didn't reach you sooner. I'm sorry I couldn't be more careful. You can hate me all you want. I'll live the rest of my life being sorry to you. You don't have to forgive me. I'm fine as long as you're okay, you're fine, you're happy. Sol-ah, I miss your smile. I miss the sound of it. I miss knowing you're happy somewhere, even if I am nowhere in your somewhere. Sol-ah, thank you. Sol-ah, please, please live.
But oh, he can't say any of that to her now. So all he says is "Thank you, for living. The ones by your side will thank you for that". And yes, he means himself.
He wanted to be the umbrella she once was to him, the gift she has been to him all his life, both literally and figuratively. And because Ryu Seon Jae is a person who will receive the affection/love you give with the utmost appreciation, increase it 10x more and return it to you gift-wrapped with sparkly ribbons, he chooses to be her umbrella this way, the only way he can.
He wanted to pull her out of the reservoir, literally and figuratively, so she could live. He didn't mind spending all his life stuck in that reservoir himself.
This was supposed to be a response to @thedeathdeelers rewatch post here and as usual, it ended up being a mess of feels (why do I even try really) I swear atp I feel like we're the same person watching feeling the same things lmao. You, don't ever shut up about this show please :')
p.s. I love writer Lee Si Eun for ultimately wanting to save THIS OG Ryu Seon Jae, and therefore initiating the memory flashback with pieces from this timeline. Although my heart will forever ache for this OG boy, it finds some comfort in that.
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cuubism · 2 years
Text
for @magnusbae, as usual 😂
--
“If you relent now, you may be offered a small degree of mercy,” Dream told his captors from where he was sitting cross-legged in the summoning circle. Irritating, to have found himself summoned again. He was going to have to devise better protections against this sort of thing. At least he had his clothes this time, that was a small comfort.
A greater comfort was the certain knowledge that someone was coming for him. Rare, that feeling, and brilliantly warm in its newness.
One of the men sneered down at him. “You aren’t in a position to be talking about mercy, Dream of the Endless.”
His name spoken in such a way sent a prickle up Dream’s spine. The disrespect.
“I speak not of myself,” he said, then fell silent, watching a look of unease flash across his captor’s face, the worried expression he sent to his compatriot. The realization, there, that he meant someone was coming after him, and the fear of what kind of being might be loyal to one such as him.
If only they knew.
“Although,” he continued, “there are a great many fates worse than death in this world. Perhaps death itself will be your mercy.”
They would not enjoy what Dream would do with them when he got out.
They ought to know what they were messing with. They had summoned him as Nightmare, used a spell that called to the darker elements of his nature. But then, human folly knew no bounds.
The men had not contained Dream very well, either. Tonight, when they slept, he should be able to slip into their dreams and compel one of them to break the circle. That was if someone else did not get there first.
Dream hoped someone else got there first.
He felt it was only fair to get a little show in return for his trouble.
The men looked truly unnerved now, but Dream offered no more explanation. Let them stew in what they had wrought. It was satisfying, incredibly satisfying, to watch them shake in it.
--
Dream did not have to wait long for his reckoning.
The door flew open, banging into the wall. Hob stood in the doorway, haloed by the hallway light, one hand grasping a crowbar that Dream knew he usually kept in his car. Dream’s summoners were armed with guns, but Dream was not concerned, and not only because Hob could not die.
“Hello, Hob,” he intoned. The other men looked between the two of them, shocked into inaction.
“Hi, love,” said Hob. His tone was light but the look in his eyes was not. “You alright?”
“I feel deprived of my day off,” Dream complained. “We had plans.”
“Hmm. That we did.”
One of his captors, the one who had scorned his offer of mercy, finally regained his senses enough to raise his weapon. Dream propped his head in his hands to watch.
Some days, Dream wished he could have seen Hob on a proper battlefield, sword in hand, ruthless, brutal efficiency on full display. There was no elegance to the way Hob fought, only experience, instinct, and an utter lack of pretension characteristic of one who had used those skills for illicit gain and survival rather than showmanship. Dream loved every second of it, especially when it was brought to bear for him.
Hob cracked the man across the hand, knocking his gun aside, then smashed him overhand with the crowbar. Dream heard the man’s skull audibly split.
Hob spun for the other, who was scrambling for his gun. Dream watched with disgust. Such amateurs dared to summon him? They knew not what they meddled with.
Hob backhanded the man across the cheek before he could even properly grip his gun, and the man shrieked, falling backwards. Hob turned to Dream. “You wanna…?” He waved a hand as if to indicate plunge him into endless torment.
Dream shook his head. Such sorry excuses for men did not deserve his effort.
Hob shrugged and smashed the man over the head with the crowbar again, not quite killing him but pushing him very close to his sister’s embrace.
Footsteps down the hall, and then two more men burst into the room. One held a cattle prod instead of a gun; Dream could only assume it had been meant for him, and they simply had not found cause to use it yet. Hob’s gaze zeroed in on it, and something dark sharpened in his eyes.
“You’ll regret that, but you won’t have long to do it,” he said, dropping his crowbar as he ducked the man’s lunging blow with the cattle prod to grab him around the back of the neck and knee him in the gut. The man doubled over, gasping, hand spasming as he dropped his weapon. Hob twisted him into a headlock, his arm an iron bar across the man’s throat.
“Next time you mess with beings beyond your understanding,” he growled, “consider that they might have someone waiting at home for them.”
Dream’s breath caught. He watched as the air seeped out of his captor under Hob’s grip until he slumped to the floor. This was all far more satisfying – and attractive – than he’d even anticipated.
He was so caught up in the vicious heroics of it all that he didn’t realize the final co-conspirator had pointed his gun at him until Hob said, very low and very dark, “I wouldn’t.”
Dream looked up at the last man standing, either the smartest or dumbest of the group based on his current antics, depending on which way one looked at it. His hand was shaking where it was pointing the gun at Dream’s chest.
“I’ll kill him!” his captor insisted, voice squeaking up an octave in fear. Was Hob frightening? Dream supposed he was, from that angle. The thought thrilled something in him.
“I wouldn’t,” Hob repeated, the man’s fate should he do so very clear in his voice. A bullet would not kill Dream, of course, but bound as he still was by the summoning circle, it would probably hurt. Besides, it would upset Hob, and that was not acceptable.
The man looked wildly between Dream and Hob as if trying to decide who would be less likely to kill him. At this point, he would probably be better off jumping into the summoning circle with Dream and being consumed by his nightmares. The look on Hob’s face was not charitable.
True to Dream’s supposition, the man swung back around to point his gun at Hob, but hesitated half a second before firing. Hob moved in the space of that hesitation, moved like shadow in a way Dream’s nightmares themselves could learn from, grabbed the man’s arm and forced it up and back so the moment his finger pressed down on the trigger the bullet went right between his eyes.
Blood splattered. The body dropped. Dream didn’t bother to watch; instead, he was watching Hob. The sweat just prickling his brow, the way his chest rose and fell with exertion. The utter steadiness of his hands.
Hob strode over to the circle, brushing through it with his foot, then stepped in to crouch beside Dream. He took Dream’s face between his hands, looking him over with concern. “Are you alright, my love?”
“Quite.” Dream’s lips tipped up in a smile; he leaned into Hob’s hands. “I enjoyed your heroics.”
“Oh?” Hob’s concern fell away, replaced by humor. “Did you?”
“Mm. You were gallant and ruthless.”
“Didn’t think those could go together,” Hob said.
“And full of contradictions,” Dream added, and Hob laughed. Dream rested his hands on Hob’s sides, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. “I believe you may be featuring in some nightmares now. For the ones who are remaining, that is.”
Hob hummed, evidently not upset about it. “Should see yourself.” He traced under Dream’s eye.
Dream had thus far neglected to let his eyes slip back to their more human appearance after the summoning. When he smiled, his teeth felt a bit sharper than usual. “They summoned Nightmare, and Nightmare is what they received.”
Hob kissed his forehead. “Summoned,” he repeated, a banked flame in the word. “Oh, I hope you weren’t scared.”
“They trapped me poorly, I would have escaped as soon as night fell. But failing that…” Dream pressed Hob’s hand to his cheek. “I knew that you would come for me.”
Hob pulled away again to look at him, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. There was something in that look, too, beyond fondness. Like he was proud of Dream, almost. “Always.”
He helped Dream to his feet. Dream didn’t need the help, but Hob’s touch was pleasant. He leaned into Hob’s side as Hob rested a hand low on his back.
“You know…” he mused, “it can be quite tiring for one to be summoned.”
Hob looked at him sidelong. “Are you trying to get me to carry you?”
“…If it is on offer.”
Hob sighed heavily. “Suppose it wouldn’t be a proper storybook rescue mission otherwise.”
“Precisely,” Dream agreed.
���You’re a menace,” Hob declared, but obligingly bent and scooped Dream up in his arms. His body was pleasantly warm after the exertion of the fight, and solid as always.
Dream tipped his head against his shoulder, hiding a smile. “Gallant,” he murmured.
They were nearly to the door when there was a fluttering of wings, and Death was standing in the center of the room. She looked from Dream in Hob’s arms, to the bodies scattered on the floor, and back again, an aggrieved expression on her face. “Please tell me this wasn’t elaborate roleplay.”
“It is my understanding that role play should not come with a body count,” Dream told her solemnly, and she shook her head.
“Whatever it is, I’ll leave you to it.” She tipped her head at the bodies. “I have work to do.”
“Sorry,” said Hob, not sounding very sorry.
Death sighed and waved them away, crouching beside one of the collapsed men. She whistled. “You did a number on him.”
“Nobody gets to try to capture Dream anymore,” Hob said, indignant, arm tightening around Dream’s shoulders.
“Quite right,” said Death. She looked up at them again with a small smile. “Take care of him, Hob.”
Dream should have felt more offended by this. But it was hard to care about much when Hob was carrying him so delicately.
“Always will,” said Hob, his tone soft but certain, and Dream pressed his face into his chest.
“You know,” Hob murmured as they left the building and stepped out into the cool evening air, “it could be elaborate roleplay.”
Dream’s lips tipped up in a smile. He leaned back against Hob’s arm to look up at him. “In the Dreaming all things are possible. No permanent bloodshed required.”
Hob smiled down at him, sharp and fond at once. “My thoughts exactly, darling.” 
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sirianasims · 3 months
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Chapter 43.6
My mother taught me that sometimes it rains. Sometimes it pours, and you’re soaked through and miserable and it feels like it may never stop. But no matter how heavily the rain falls, no matter how drenched you get, you are not the rain.
Some day you will be dry again.
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Things have been easier since I blocked Paul, the pain slowly fading to a dull ache, barely noticeable as long as I don’t dig too deep. I try to keep myself distracted, reading Lucky Girl for what must be the fifth time. It’s my comfort read, Evie reminds me a little of myself. I think we could have been friends, hanging out and agreeing that being in love is the absolute worst, actually, while we yearn for our respective idiots.
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The memory of Paul is not the only thing I’m trying to escape. With all my channels inactive, even the haters have gone quiet and my views are dropping every week. I’ve toyed with the idea of simply abandoning everything and starting a new brand, but I don’t want to rebuild my follower count from scratch. I don’t have time for it. My bills are starting to pile up, and while I can still pay them for now, it won’t be long before I have to either crawl back to mom and dad and ask for help, or get one of those real jobs people keep talking about. I’m not even sure which option I would hate the most, so I hide in my book for now.
A sharp knock on the door jerks me away from Evie admiring Jude in an art gallery and back to reality.
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I hesitate for a moment. I have no idea who it could be, and I don’t want to see anyone, especially not some smarmy salesperson – or worse, my landlord. With a sigh, I put my book face down on the armrest and shuffle to the door.
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Miranda is leaning casually against the doorway, her high heels making her look almost as tall as Samara. At their feet, a couple of large shopping bags are threatening to fall over and spill their contents on my doormat.
“See, Samara? I told you she was still alive.”
“So you did. Then I sure hope she has a very good excuse for refusing to see her best friends for almost two months!“
I feel my cheeks get hot. “Uh, hi. I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ve just had a rough time since, you know. But I promise to call you, maybe we can make plans soon?”
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“No need, we’re here now, so you won’t have to worry about that.” Samara’s smile is cheerful, but her tone is resolute. Even so, I try to object.
“Seriously, it’s not a good time, I haven’t even showered for like three days, and the place is a mess.”
“Girl, since when do we care about mess? We’re here because we love you – stinky or not.” She wrinkles her nose, making the freckles on her face dance.
“What is this, some sort of intervention?”
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Miranda smirks. “Pretty much. Sorry, but someone’s gotta save you from yourself, and we’re not letting you waste any more time moping over a man who didn’t deserve you. We’ve got snacks and a box of rosé with your name on it, so you might as well get out of the way.”
“Fiiine, but no judging the absolute state of the place.” I roll my eyes and invite them in with a dramatic flourish of my arm, but I can’t help but smile. Samara bounces through the door despite the heavy shopping bags, and Miranda goes straight for my laptop.
“What’s your login?”
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“It’s just my birthday, and before you come for me, yes, I know that’s bad.”
Miranda shakes her head as the laptop plays a jaunty tune and lets her in.
“You’ll get the full security lecture another day, right now it’s time to declare inbox bankruptcy. We’re getting rid of all this bullshit so you can get back to business.”
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“Miranda, there are literally thousands of messages. It’ll take days to go through, maybe weeks.”
She doesn’t even look up, her perfectly manicured fingers a blur over the keyboard.
“Give me an hour. I’m going to delete anything that contains profanity, and then I’ll sort the rest into folders, so don’t worry, you won’t be losing anything permanently. But I’m going to mark everything as read and archive it so you can get a fresh start. If anyone wants something important from you, they’ll reach out again, trust me.”
I stop myself from protesting further. Miranda knows what she’s doing, and it really would be a relief not to worry about everything.
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Behind me, Samara has stopped unpacking the groceries.
“Just let Miranda work her magic and get your smelly butt into a bath. And make it a nice one, soak for a bit and pretend you’re a mermaid or something. We’ll get everything set up in here while you scrub off the sadness.”
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I feel a slight pang of embarrassment as I walk into the bathroom. The sunlight is creating little islands of warmth on the black tiles, but it also mercilessly illuminates the limescale in the shower and a couple of cotton swabs that missed the bin. The sink is decorated with a few dried clumps of toothpaste, each of them outlined in red from last time I dyed my hair.
How did I let it get this bad?
I turn on the taps and leave them running while I undress. Then, I lower myself awkwardly into the tub and let the water cascade through my fingers. It would be nice if it was this easy, washing away the sadness and frustration, the longing and the hurt.
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The gentle sound of flowing water is mesmerising, and before I know it, the tub is full. I add a small handful of bath salts and swirl it around. A soothing scent of lavender rises with the steam.
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When I lie down, the hot water envelops me like a hug. It feels like it’s thawing something in me that I didn’t even know was frozen. I close my eyes and listen to Samara and Miranda laughing about something. It’s almost like being home and hearing my parents talk softly in the other room. It always made me feel safe. Less alone.
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As the water begins to cool, I scrub down, slowly, methodically, running soapy hands along every inch of my body. It feels good, like I’m massaging life back into my limbs. Tonight will be fun, I decide. We’re going to stuff our faces with junk food, get absolutely smashed on cheap wine, and pretend that my heart was never broken by some has-been actor from Tartosa.
I watch as the tub empties, imagining that all my sadness is flowing down the drain with the water and the tiny undissolved purple specks from the bath salt. Finally, I move to the shower to wash my hair and rinse off.
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When I get out, I stop and examine myself in the mirror. I look a little tired and worn, like I’ve been sick. In a way, I guess I have. But the black tiles are radiating warmth under my feet and there are birds singing outside my window and I’m beginning to feel like everything is going to be fine.
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Samara’s blue face glitters in the candlelight. The packaging from the masks we’ve applied is littered with adjectives like “rejuvenating” and “revitalising”, bold statements, but they do actually feel pretty good.
“Sorry, Julia, I know you love this crap, but I just can’t get over the cake tongue. Who decided cake would be the best bait for people? Are we really that obsessed with desserts?”
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I look over my nails one last time and put down the file. “I’m actually more disturbed by the whole chin udder situation. I mean, who came up with that?”
Samara makes a disgusted face, but she’s not ready to change the subject. “Seriously though, even if you were absolutely starving and cake was your favourite thing in the whole world, would you really approach a plant shaped like a giant cow head with huge teeth? Really? And then try to grab what is obviously its tongue?”
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Miranda giggles tipsily. “No, but can we talk about how Ned’s relationship with the cow plant is super toxic, though? I mean, it always starts out slow, right? Oh, so it eats meat, little bit of a red flag there, but it’s probably fine. And before you know it, you find yourself luring your neighbours to their deaths just to keep it happy.”
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“Yeah, it’s classic, the way he keeps making excuses for her? She didn’t mean it, she’s just misunderstood! She only bites me because she loves me! I’m like, Ned, your girlfriend is eating people, you need professional help.”
Samara laughs. “I guess some men would literally rather feed their neighbours to a plant than go to therapy.”
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My phone vibrates on the armrest behind me.
“Sorry, it’s Marten again, I better let him know I’ve got company. He’s been super busy with his exams so we haven’t had much time to play lately.”
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Miranda raises an eyebrow.
“And he’s still fine just being your friend, is he?”
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“Why wouldn’t he be? I mean, he was fine being my friend even though I was dating Paul. Besides, I haven’t even seen him in person since GeekCon, it’s been almost a year…”
I stop. Almost a year since I met Paul. It feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder what would have happened if I’d cosplayed as someone else, or if Paul hadn’t been there that day. Maybe I could have been dating Marten instead of having my heart trampled by some fickle celebrity. Nice, normal Marten with his mousy hair and his robot facts. I smile.
“Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Marten. Or anyone else, for that matter.”
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Miranda sends me a mischievous grin. “That reminds me, you know that hot bartender from The Rooftop? Super flirty, cheekbones that could cut glass?”
“The one who gave us free refills on Samara’s birthday? Shane or something?”
“Yeah, him! He asked about you last time, wondered why you hadn’t come with us for like three weeks in a row.”
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“How does he even know my name?”
“He didn’t, he just asked about our red-haired friend but you’ve clearly made an impression.” Miranda winks. “Maybe he’d be willing to help you get over Paul.”
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I shake my head. “No thanks, I’m pretty sure he’s slept with like half the regulars. And I’m not looking for hook-ups, not now. I need to get my so-called career back on track, but I want to do something… different.”
I think of Paul, of late nights in hotel rooms, laughing at the most ridiculous b-movies before having amazing sex and falling asleep with his arms around me. “I don’t want to do cosplay again, absolutely nothing with movies or comics or superheroes.”
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Miranda looks thoughtful. “What about just fashion stuff? I started out with just my shoe reviews and now it’s more general style advice and outfits to match your heels, but you have an eye for it and you know a lot about cuts and materials and design.”
“I guess? I don’t really know a lot about classic fashion, though, like couture and such. And it’s a really tough business to get into, plus I’d kinda like to keep the expenses down for now.”
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“You could always just jump on one of the big trends. I bet you’d make bank as one of those clean girl aesthetic influencers or something.”
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“That’s actually a good idea. I mean, I can probably get pretty far with just the makeup and clothes I already have. And I could move my sewing machine and rearrange the room, set up my camera and the lights…”
Miranda laughs. “We can start right now as long as it means we don’t have to watch any more terrible movies tonight.”
I reach for the remote. “Not a chance.”
beginning / previous / next
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chaoticsimp · 2 years
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Sweet Dreams
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18+ | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Relationship: Aizawa X Reader (NSFW)
Content Warnings: NSFW/18+, praise, light dirty talk, oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, begging, a dash of overstim?, established relationship (between Aizawa and reader).
A/N: Please let me know if I missed any. This is my first time writing smut so I'm still learning!
Summary: After years of being inactive you agree to a new mission. With the nerves creeping in, your partner (Aizawa) does what he can to help you relax.
Word Count: 2103
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It wasn’t often you accepted an assignment. You were happy to hang up your cape and raise the heroes of tomorrow. It felt like a lifetime ago that you’d spent years patrolling the streets, working in covert operations that had you shrouded in secrecy. It made it difficult to earn the respect of your students. So few had heard of your hero name and yet by the end of the first semester, you easily became a class favourite. You loved being a teacher. So, when Detective Tsukauchi reached out for your talents it surprised you how easy it was to say yes.
“You should be asleep.” You jumped at the voice and scrambled to gather the papers on the table.
“So should you.” You sighed, and you stopped trying to hide the papers having already been caught. You looked up to find Aizawa leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his bare chest, grey sweatpants hung off his hips and his tired eyes were on you. You briefly wondered how long he’d been silently standing there.
“I couldn’t sleep,” You admitted, although it was obvious. “The missions starts tomorrow, I-I guess I’m more nervous than I thought.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Aizawa had asked this more than once, but the question felt like it held more weight tonight. He moved closer to you, taking your hand in his and you knew he was also worried but didn’t want to make his worries your own.
“Yes. All-Might trusts Detective Tsukauchi, and I trust All-Might.” It was a response Aizawa had grown familiar with.
“You know, I could use the help of a certain Underground Hero.”
“And who would be left to watch my lousy kids? You could barely substitute for them,” He reminded.
“It’s hard to pull that icy glare you’ve perfected,” You teased earning an eye roll in response.
“If only they knew how intimidating you could be.” You smiled and looked back to the notes littering the dining table.
“I’m just going to go over it one more time, then I’ll…” Your words failed you when Aizawa hooked his finger under your chin, and he tilted your head to face him. Your heart sped up as his thumb ran across your lower lip.
“It’s late,” He reminded.
“I just want to be prepared,” You countered.
“Then let me help.”
Aizawa dropped his mouth to yours. The kiss was slow and sleepy, his lips were warm against yours and the slight taste of mint toothpaste had you thinking he had planned this all along. He made you stand, his mouth leaving yours to expertly hit the spots on your neck that made your breath hitch. He moved at a leisurely pace – his hands skimmed under the shirt of his you had on and found purchase on your hips. You were suddenly very aware of what little clothes you had on as Aizawa lowered to his knees. He took his hands from your hips and slipped the hairband off your wrist.
“What are you…” You felt the heat in your cheeks grow as you watched Aizawa pull back his hair, securing it in a low bun before he moved closer. You didn’t need to ask what was next as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and you steadied yourself by grabbing the edge of the table.
“Sh-Shota maybe we should-” Your request was interrupted when he pressed a soft kiss against your clothed cunt.
“Maybe we should…?” Aizawa’s words vibrated through your core and your nails dug into the table in anticipation as he pulled your panties to the side.
“We-We should go…go to the…” Aizawa dipped his tongue between your folds, and you shuddered a breath as you leaned into the table. His fingers dug into the thigh draped over his shoulder and you released the table with one hand to grip his hair when he pulled back. He pressed warm kisses against your thigh, and you gasped as he sucked and gently bit at your skin.
“You know I don’t like when you don’t finish your sentences,” He teased, and you almost laugh. A quick retort held behind your teeth because as much as you wanted to tease back, you wanted his face lost between your plush thighs even more.
“We should go to the bedroom,” You finally gasped. His scruff rubbed against your sensitive skin, sending chills up your back and you briefly met his gaze as he tilted his head up.
“You want me to stop?” You quickly shook your head no. You never wanted him to stop, you were addicted to him, and he knew it. The moment he put up his hair, you were a goner, and all thoughts of the mission slipped away as you used your hand in his hair to tug him closer.
“Eager, aren’t we?” He asked the question as if he hadn’t been the one to kneel before you first. You didn’t respond, and Aizawa decided not to make you beg as he licked your clit. It was late – the minutes felt like seconds, and he wanted to savour every moment. Your head fell back, Aizawa always knew exactly what you needed. He had turned eating you out into a skill, one he had mastered. He knew where to apply pressure, and just when to slow down and speed up. He knew how to make your head spin, and your thighs trembled when he curled two fingers into you.
“Sh-Shota.” Your moans were like a song, and Aizawa couldn’t get enough. The table slid a little as you pushed your weight into it, your back arched and your lips parted as he wrapped his mouth around your bundle of nerves.
“Fuck,” You gasped, and your hand jerked in Aizawa’s hair as his fingers found your sweet spot. You could almost feel him smirking against your skin as your walls fluttered around him, and that familiar coil began to tighten in your stomach. You rolled your hips, and he knew to move his fingers quicker.
“Don’t stop. Please, please just like that,” You whined as you drew closer to the edge. His fingers felt too good, and his lips suctioned around your clit just right.
“Sho, I-I’m-” You couldn’t get the words out as you tipped over the edge. Your toes curled, your thighs shook around his head and your hold on his hair became painfully tight as your orgasm crashed over you. He didn’t stop until you were done, until your back lowered and you rested your weight against the table. His fingers left you first and you slowly released your hold on his hair as his stubble tickled your thigh.
“Good girl,” He mumbled against your skin. You looked down at him as he gently lowered your leg, your balance uneven and you felt a slight twinge in your back from the edge of the table as Aizawa pulled it back into place. He wiped his mouth with his free hand and before you could say anything he lifted you onto the table.
“One more.” He pressed a kiss beneath your ear, and the papers on the table crinkled as he pushed you to your back.
“Just one more and I’ll give you everything,” He promised. All you could do was nod as he repositioned himself between your legs. He hoisted up your thighs, his hands beneath your knees as he spread you open. Your legs trembled in his hands as he ran his cock through your folds, coating it in your slick.
“Shota,” You whined.
“Patience,” He replied, but you couldn’t be sure if he was speaking to you or to himself. Aizawa let out an uneven breath as he slowly sunk into you, his grip on your thighs prevented you from moving closer forcing you to endure his drawn-out pace.
“So tight,” He breathed as he pushed himself to the hilt and paused. You tried to wiggle your hips, but his iron grip held as he met your pleading eyes.
“Patience," He repeated, and your eyes clamped shut as he pulled out slower than he had entered. You could have cried as he drew out each thrust, his hips moved in that slow methodical rhythm again, and again, and again. The coil in your stomach had already begun to retighten as he pushed your knee's back a little more and thrusted into you a little deeper.
"Shota, please," You begged. At this point, you'd do anything to have him speed up even a millisecond.
“Look at me,” He demanded, and you managed to meet his gaze through your lashes. Part of him wanted to give in, spoil you like you deserved but the other was lingering on every pant and moan that escaped your lips. It was the part of him that wanted to draw this out and relished in the way your body moved in response to his slightest adjustments. You took him so well, and if he could burn the image of you beneath him behind his eyelids he would.
“Good girl,” He whispered the praise against your calf.
“So, fucking good for me.” Aizawa hooked his arms under your legs, and you lifted yourself up from the table as he pulled you into him. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he boosted you up, using the edge of the table for stability and angling you just enough to hit that sweet spot with every thrust. 
“M-More,” Your plea is barely audible.
“What was that?” He grunted.
“More, more, more,” Your pleas hit his ear again and it made Aizawa’s hips stutter, briefly breaking his steady pace. Aizawa loved your intelligence, loved your way with words. He had watched you handle the press, students, and parents with unparalleled grace, but there was something that stirred deep inside him when he was able to turn your mind to putty, to reduce you to one-worded sentences.
“Go ahead.” For once he doesn’t make you beg more than you already had. He doesn’t take you to the edge and keep you there for however long he cared to, and you found yourself babbling thanks as one of your hands left his neck to draw circles on your clit.
“Fuck,” Aizawa breathed. He could feel you tighten around him, sucking him in so beautifully as he bounced you on his cock. Your skin was like fire against his and it was a warmth he already found himself missing.
“Sho, I-”
“Cum for me.” It was all you needed to tip you over the edge again. That coil snapped as your body tightened and your second orgasm washed over you, flooding your senses with ecstasy. Aizawa turned his head to watch you as you came, memorizing your beautiful face. Your end brought him to his own as he gave one final deep thrust and filled you as well as he always did.
“I love you,” He whispered between pants, his lips pressed gentle kisses to your cheek and neck to help you land from your high.
“I love you,” He repeated, burning the words into your skin. Aizawa was always one to show love rather than say it, but with you leaving he wanted the words to ring in your head for the weeks to come. Aizawa set you back on the table when he felt your body begin to relax, he let down your legs and you released a blissful sigh as he pulled out of you. Your hands pushed back the hair that clung to his face, and you kissed him so sweetly he thought he would break.
“It’s going to be okay,” You assured him, stroking over his stubble as he pressed his forehead to yours.
“It’s going to be okay,” He repeated, assuring himself just as much as he was trying to assure you. You smiled, your smile turning into laughter as he scooped you into his arms.
“Now will you sleep?” He asked as he carried you to the bedroom. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before resting your head against his shoulder.
“Yes,” You promised. Aizawa lowered you to the bed first before crawling over to his side, he pulled the blanket over the both of you. His arms opened as your head found its way to his chest, and you listened to his heartbeat as he wrapped you in a snug embrace. He pressed a final kiss to the top of your head and your eyelids grew heavy as you fell into a peaceful sleep in the arms of the man you loved.
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sunfyresrider · 1 year
Text
𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑳𝒖𝒔𝒕
Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader
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Synopsis: The story of how you accidentally became fuck buddies with your best friend... who is a werewolf. Tags: Omegaverse, slick, ruts, knots all that stuff. VV minor manipulation, stressed out best friend, begging, cursing, short story mainly smut Author’s Note: This is my first time writing like this so pls be gentle w me. Inspired by a post my queen made a while ago @lovelykhaleesiii Not my best work but it's a filler while I update some other wips and series.
8:30 pm 
Aegon was going to be late as usual. In the long years of friendship, you had with him he was never on-time to anything, although neither were you. You sunk into the couch and scrolled through your phone, searching for something to pass the time. At the very worst he would be an hour late, at the best he would be here soon. 
9:30 pm
Tiktok was quickly becoming uninteresting and so was any discourse on Twitter you tried to read. The clock ticked on, and Aegon was nowhere to be seen. Your patience was wearing thin, and you couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly caused such a delay. Did something happen to him? Should you reach out to check if he was okay? 
10:30 pm
The minutes turned into hours, and fatigue began to set in. Sitting on the couch, your mind drifted to various scenarios, from Aegon getting caught up in an unexpected event to simply forgetting about your plans. Regardless, his disappearance was unusual, even for him. Normally, he would have texted you with an excuse or promised to hang another there. 
11:00 pm 
As the night grew darker, your concern transformed into frustration. You considered calling or texting Aegon, but a part of you hesitated, not wanting to appear too eager or needy. You were proud, far too proud to let him know he was stressing you the fuck out. Still, you couldn't shake off the worry that something might have gone wrong. You stalked all of his socials, inactive. You tried to check his location, but he turned it off, bastard. You messaged Aemond who politely left you on read, as always. 
By now you should accept the fact he’s ghosting you… After years of friendship, it ends like this. What a load of fucking bullshit, a game only Aegon would play. You’re overthinking, maybe he really was hurt or drunk or lost. Too many possibilities raced through your head as you were getting dressed. 
12:00 pm
Your anxious nature took over as you stepped into his ancient apartment building made of old brick. In the past he’d been known for going on all types of benders. Even though he had been sober for quite some time it did not quell the thought he may have relapsed. Your worst fears grew more prominent each step you took towards his door. What if he was dead? What if he was missing? What if he really was just ghosting you to fuck another female? All of the above were causing your heart to race and stomach churn.
Bang bang bang
“Aegon! Are you in here?!” you shouted from outside the door, digging into your purse for the spare key. “Aeg! If you don’t answer i'm coming in!” From outside you could hear the sounds of… something inside. You weren’t sure if it was a groan or a moan but neither boded well for you. ‘Fuck it,’ you thought to yourself as you jammed your key into the door. The inside was the same, plain and simple. The black couch still sat in front of the flat screen and the kitchen by the door was completely untouched. As you stalked further inside the small whimpers from his bedroom became more and more clear. He was alive, but he must be with someone else. That almost hurt worse. Even if you were just friends, it was painfully obvious how much you fancied him. You were practically fuming, who the fuck was he with now? Your steps turned into long strides as you neared his door, slamming it open with one hand. 
“What the fu-” The scene before you sucked all of the air out of your body. He was alive and… “This isn’t what it looks like!” He jumped, falling off the bed with only a sheet covering him. You were stunned, shocked, confused, and utterly dumbfounded. There he was humping a pillow wi- with a tail? “What the fuck—” you drawled out your words trying to comprehend the situation at hand. There Aegon was, as bare as a baby, with a fluffy tail and ears… 
“I can explain, just- just-” Aegon paused to sniff the air, for the first time he noticed your scent. The pheromones you were releasing immediately threatened to drive him crazy. His rut was horrible this year, reaching the worst today. He took to fucking a pillow and was crying trying to ease the pain… You had no idea how much worse you had made it for him by walking inside. Had you been in heat this entire time and it took a transformation for him to notice your sweet smell? It was intoxicating, mind dumbing and exhilarating all at once. His thoughts became a flurry of all the things he wanted with you. Aegon wanted to ravage you, devour you whole and claim you as his mate. Did you even know you were in heat? 
He stood up, with the sheet poorly covering his erection. His eyes were blurry with tears and his lips formed into a permanent pout. “I need you- I need your help, just please don’t run.” Your eyes drifted down to his bulge; it isn't wrong you were only human after all! “H-how can I help?” There are no words in any language to describe what you were feeling. You were shocked, scared, turned on, and in awe of the tail wagging behind him. Never in any lifetime did you expect the term “human golden retriever” to become a reality. “It hurts- so so bad.” He whined making slow moves towards you so as to not startle you. 
This was odd, he was odd, you were having a fucking fever dream or something. You pointed a finger at his crotch, eyeing him up and down. He nodded his head vigorously and you swore his ears perked up. I can’t fix it without your help.” Was he drooling or was that the tears still falling from his eyes… “w-why?” His voice cracked, “Its- Its a wolf thing.” Ah, he was a werewolf not a dog. He took a step forward and you circled around him, back facing the bed. You weren’t scared, just overwhelmingly confused. Of course, you always wanted him, always thought of him begging but not like this… 
Your breath was sucked out of you once more as he fell to his knees, hand gripping at your sides. He stared up at you with the worst case of puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “I’ve always wanted you- I’ve always needed you, but I-I was so scared. P-please! Let me prove it to you.” A bit manipulative, but what else could he do? His cock was throbbing, and you were the most beautiful prey he had ever laid eyes upon. “I… ok, I’ll help.” 
His eyes turned primal, making you automatically realize there was an error in your decision. Aegon, acting purely on instinct, pounced on you. His weight pushing you fully onto the bed, squirming beneath him as his lips devoured yours. A guttural growl escaping his throat as he grinded himself against your clothed cunt. 
Aegon's fingers dug into your thighs as he pulled them apart. His tongue lapped hungrily at your neck, making you shudder as goosebumps erupted across your skin. A moan escaped your lips as his hands moved to rip off your clothes. Of course, he couldn’t just remove them normally. With two quick tears they were gone along with your bra and panties leaving you completely naked under his gaze. Superhuman strength, that’ll take some getting used to.
The feel of his hot breath sent shivers through your body as he moved downwards. He was panting, inhaling the sweet scent of your slick. Aegon needed to taste it, to feel it cover his tongue. His fingers trailed over your cunt before pressing firmly into your slit, causing you to arch upwards. Oh god, were you this wet from him crying? 
You felt the tip of his tongue press against your clit. At first it was just a taste, to test if you were as sweet as you smelled. It was better, so much better than anyone could imagine. His mouth pressed firmly against you, Aegon’s tongue mercilessly lapping at your pussy. The way he devouring you drove you insane, sending shocks shooting throughout your entire being. 
He began to lap faster at your sensitive flesh, desperate to swallow you whole. He behaved like a man starved and this was his last steak. He didn’t care about anything else; all he cared for was satisfying his hunger. His claws pricked your ass cheeks as he knelt between your legs, forcing you open wider. His tongue dipped into your hole causing your legs to shiver. 
"Ahh!" You cried out, buckling as waves of pleasure shot through your core. Your cunt began tightening around nothing as his tongue moved to do circles around your clit. The vibrations of his low growls sending a new pleasure throughout you. 
He pulled back, his face glistening with your slick. Aegon licked his lips lazily, as he stared down at you. "Baby," he purred, baring his fangs you did not know existed. "I’m gonna claim you." His words made you blush, wait how was he gonna? 
He quickly shoved his lips onto your own, sucking every word out of your mouth. His teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusted his hips forwards, grinding against your slick. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he prodded at your entrance. 
Aegon let go of your face snaking his hands down to your waist… Without notice, he flipped you onto your stomach causing you to yelp. Before you knew it, he was straddling you, one knee on either side of your body. His erection rubbed against the crease between your ass cheeks as he held himself above you.
You looked up at him, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly. He stared at you for confirmation, even in wolf form consent mattered. You nodded, unable to speak. Aegon gave you a feral grin before shoving himself inside you. 
"Oh fuck!" You moaned loudly as he pushed deeper, stretching you wide. This wasn't going to be easy. But then again, neither were any of the things Aegon did. He began thrusting harshly, giving you no time to adjust. Each deep push forced another scream to escape your lips until he dropped his full weight on you, pulling your face up by your hair. 
Aegon’s head dipped into the crook of your neck, near your collarbone and he fucking bit you. From this point on, you were claimed, forever and always his omega. His movements became rougher as he neared his finish. It felt as if his cock was growing inside you. 
Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, as you whimpered and moaned different curses. Your body acting without you as it tightened around him. As if your very essence wanted to give him what he desired most. Allowing him to fill you up and make you his.
"A-A-Aegon!" You screamed out as you came. Your muscles clenching around his shaft. He growled, a real growl this time as his cock began to form a knot, securing himself deep inside you. His arms wrapped unbearably tight around you, squeezing your breasts roughly while he slammed hard into you, burying his cock fully within your womb. Your cunt tightened around his knot as his seed spilled out inside of you. 
You landed in unison, slowly he eased his grip on you so you could sink into the bed. “A-Aegon are you going to move?” You were absolutely clueless as to why you were still stuffed to the brim. His cock must have grown which goes against human biology but apparently so did his very existence. 
He peppered kisses along your shoulder as he moved to pull you into a spooning position. “We’re gonna be stuck like this for a while.”
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