#it's funny how when I love a woman's artistic voice I'm like I love her I would die for her

[lapsedmathematician]

think I might be a chantal akerman ride-or-die fan in record time. this is the most obsessed I've been with a director's voice after seeing one movie of theirs since charlie kaufman

[bbobpul]

takes one to know one — yjh

PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x fem reader SUMMARY. two con artists falling in love. that's it. GENRE. angst, fluff, strangers to lovers W/C. 5.4k NOTE. this is heavily inspired by cowboy like me by ts.

*⁠･⁠゜ﾟ⁠(⁠^⁠O⁠^⁠)⁠↝ my other works

i've established a fundamental rule for every man who enters my life—never inquire about a woman's salary, especially if you're not prepared for unexpected answers. equally important, never pry into her profession, as my own job defies easy categorization. it's a realm of uncertainty where providing a definitive answer becomes impossible. my friends have consistently cautioned me about the perils associated with this dubious line of work, but i've always possessed a natural talent for it. engaging in cunning schemes and orchestrating elaborate hustles, i've honed my skills in swindling older men and navigating the shadowy corners of the world.

i'm well aware that the consequences of my chosen path will eventually catch up to me, and it's likely that i will soon pay the price with the wealth from my old man of course. despite the risks, i find a certain thrill in the art of deception, even as the looming specter of retribution hangs over my head, a constant reminder that my actions may not go unpunished.

"didn't you promise me you'd stop doing this and find a real job?" my friend, vernon, asked with a tinge of disappointment in his eyes.

i paused, still in the process of packing my bags, and turned to face him, hands resting on my hips. he had rushed to my apartment when i mentioned that i'd be traveling to italy for a wedding that my old man had asked me to attend on his behalf, promising me money in return. of course, i agreed without hesitation.

"i need quick money right now, vernon," i explained, hoping he would understand the urgency.

"quick money? but you'll be spending a whole week there!" he exclaimed, concern evident in his voice.

"i'll be fine, i promise," i reassured him, trying to sound confident. "and this will be the last time, i swear." the words slipped out, and i knew that it was a promise i had made before, but this time, i wanted to believe it myself. i was determined to make a fresh start after this, to step away from the risky world of deception and embrace a different path. yet, in the back of my mind, doubt lingered like a shadow, a reminder of the allure and thrill that had kept me ensnared in my dubious endeavors for far too long.

vernon's concern deepened, his brow furrowing with worry. "and what if that old man catches on to your deception, hmm? you mentioned before that you feel like he's becoming a little suspicious of you," he reminded me.

i sighed, feeling the weight of his words and the gravity of the situation. "do you know why he asked me to go to italy on his behalf?" i began, my voice tinged with a mix of emotions. "it's because he's dying, vernon. his suspicions don't seem to matter much anymore when he's in the hospital, confined to limited movements." i paused for a moment, trying to process the irony of it all. despite everything, that old man still trusted me, even in his vulnerable state. it was both astonishing and absurd, a testament to the web of deception that i had skillfully woven.

suppressing a laugh that threatened to escape, i continued, "it's almost funny, isn't it? how he continues to place his faith in me, even when i'm not the most trustworthy person in the world." my words held a hint of self-awareness, an acknowledgment of the dichotomy between the trust others had in me and the deceit i had become accustomed to.

"but you won't do anything too risky, right?" vernon asked, genuine concern etched across his features.

"i'll be cautious, i promise," i assured him, trying to quell his worries. "i'll tread carefully this time, and once i'm back, i'll seriously start considering other options for my future."

vernon nodded, his gaze filled with understanding and a glimmer of hope. he had seen me through thick and thin, always hoping for the best for me. as we continued our conversation, i couldn't help but wonder if this trip to italy would be the catalyst for the transformation i so desperately sought, the chance to leave behind a life of deception and embrace the possibility of change. only time would tell if i could truly break free from the grasp of my dubious past and step into a future defined by authenticity and honesty.

vernon's worry deepened, his eyes reflecting concern as he voiced his fears.

"but what if that trip to italy is a trap, and he's planning to harm you? what if he's not as trusting as you think he is?"

i let out a scoff, shaking my head dismissively. "nah, that's not going to happen," i replied with a hint of nonchalance. "he's way too in love with me. he showers me with everything i want, from money to extravagant gifts. i've got him wrapped around my finger."

vernon's expression remained skeptical, clearly not convinced by my casual reassurance. "but you never know, these things can get dangerous," he cautioned.

"i'll be fine, vernon. trust me," i said, trying to sound more confident than i actually felt. while i might have been skilled at swindling and hustling, the risks were never lost on me. yet, the allure of easy money and luxury was hard to resist, and the dangerous game i played had become almost addictive.

vernon sighed, clearly worried but knowing that my mind was made up. "just promise me you'll be careful, okay? i don't want anything bad happening to you," he implored.

i gave him a small smile, touched by his concern. "i promise, i'll be cautious. and when i come back, i'll seriously consider finding a legitimate job," i assured him, hoping that one day, i could break free from the cycle of deceit and find a more honest path in life.

deep down, i knew the risks of my actions, and the consequences of my choices could catch up with me sooner or later. yet, for now, i couldn't resist the temptation of the easy money, and i was willing to take my chances, even if it meant living on the edge. only time would reveal the true price i would pay for my actions, but for now, the allure of luxury and power overshadowed any doubts i had about the dangers that lay ahead.

———————

standing at the airport bar, i fought the urge to let exhaustion consume me. i had a flight to catch, and i couldn't afford to miss it. as i sipped on a cup of coffee, its bitter taste jolting me awake, i couldn't help but reflect on the promise i had made to vernon and, more importantly, to myself. after this trip to italy, i would put an end to the cycle of deceiving men and, in the process, deceiving myself.

the hum of conversations and the clatter of luggage filled the air around me as travelers bustled about, each with their own destination and purpose. it was in this bustling atmosphere that i found a moment of clarity, a chance to confront the choices i had made and the path i had chosen.

italy, with its romantic allure and lavish settings, seemed like the perfect place for me to reflect on my life. it was a place of beauty and indulgence, but it also carried the weight of my actions and the consequences i knew i had to face. as i waited for my flight, the anticipation mingled with a sense of unease, knowing that this trip would mark a turning point in my life.

i watched the clock ticking away, counting down the minutes until my departure. the exhaustion threatened to pull me into a slumber, but i resisted, determined not to let my guard down. this was my chance for redemption, for reclaiming my authenticity and finding a path that didn't rely on deception and manipulation.

the memories of the men i had fooled and the lies i had spun danced through my mind, serving as a stark reminder of the emptiness that lay beneath the surface. the allure of material wealth and the thrill of manipulation had lost their luster, leaving behind a hollow ache that called for something more meaningful and genuine.

as i prepared to board the plane, i made a silent vow to myself. this trip would mark the end of an era, the final chapter of a life built on lies and illusions. it was time to redefine my identity, to find a purpose beyond swindling and hustling. i craved a life where authenticity and integrity took precedence over quick money and fleeting pleasures.

with each step i took toward the boarding gate, a sense of determination and renewal washed over me. i was ready to embark on a journey of self-discovery, leaving behind the shadows of my past and embracing a future filled with honesty and genuine connections.

as i settled into my seat on the plane, the engines humming in the background, i closed my eyes and envisioned a new chapter unfolding before me. italy awaited, not just as a picturesque backdrop, but as a symbol of transformation and redemption. it was here, amidst the rich history and vibrant culture, that i would find the strength to let go of my old ways and embrace a life defined by truth and authenticity.

the plane soared into the sky, carrying me closer to my destination and to the promise of a fresh start. with each passing moment, i could feel the weight of my past choices lifting, replaced by a glimmer of hope and the belief that i could rewrite my story.

italy beckoned, and i was ready to answer its call, ready to face the challenges that awaited me with newfound determination and an unwavering commitment to change.

———————

draped in my elegant brown silk dress and a luxurious fur scarf adorning my shoulders, i scanned the surroundings, taking in every detail and every individual present. the tennis court, usually a place of athletic competition, was now concealed under a vast tent-like structure, transforming it into a lavish setting for the gathering of the fabulously wealthy. as i mingled among the opulent crowd, their chit-chat filled the air, each conversation seemingly a display of privilege and excess. amidst the extravagance, i felt like an outsider, desperately searching for a glimmer of authenticity or a soul that resonated with my own.

in the midst of the sparkling affluence, i yearned for something out of place, something that would mirror the way i felt within this sea of wealth and pretense. despite my chic attire and seemingly effortless composure, i sensed a disconnection, as if i didn't quite belong in this world of opulence. as i observed the interactions around me, i couldn't help but feel like an anomaly, an intruder in this realm of excess. yet, amid the sea of superficiality, i held onto the hope of finding a kindred spirit, someone who, like me, sought authenticity amidst the facade.

as if guided by fate, my gaze fell upon a figure that stood out amidst the crowd, effortlessly captivating the attention of a group of accomplished women. his long, flowing black hair danced in the gentle breeze, a striking contrast to the sophisticated setting. i couldn't help but notice his captivating smile, a smile that mirrored the charm and allure i employed in my dealings with older, wealthier men. it was a smile that concealed secrets, shared understanding, and a shared purpose.

intrigued, i took note of his attire, which stood in stark contrast to the designer labels that adorned most of the guests. his suit, though not designer, exuded an air of confidence and nonconformity. in that moment, a spark of recognition ignited within me, revealing a kindred spirit. i understood that he, like me, had joined this gathering for the same purpose—to swindle the old and affluent. it's like the universe had conspired to bring us together, two souls navigating the delicate dance of deception amidst a sea of privilege.

as our eyes locked, it felt as if he had uncovered the secrets that lay hidden within me. there was an unspoken understanding that passed between us, a mutual recognition of the deceptive paths we had chosen. his approach filled me with a mix of excitement and trepidation, uncertain of what this encounter might entail.

with a boldness that mirrored my own, he asked, "care to dance?" his words carried an air of challenge, as if daring me to venture into the dangerous territory of intimacy.

"dancing is a pretty dangerous game," i replied, offering him my hand nonetheless. i couldn't deny the allure of this intriguing stranger, and in that moment, i decided to embrace the perilous dance that fate had orchestrated. with each step on the dance floor, i knew that i was willingly entangling myself in a web of deception and desire, aware of the risks, yet captivated by the undeniable connection we shared. together, we moved to the rhythm of the music, two kindred spirits lost in a world of shadows and secrets.

"what do they call you?" i inquired, fully aware that he wouldn't reveal his true identity.

"why do you want to know me?" he responded, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"oh, i know who you are, or rather, what you are," i replied, a hint of mystery lacing my words.

"jeonghan," he revealed, the corners of his lips curling into a playful smile. "and you are?"

"y/n," i divulged, surprised by my own willingness to share my real name. there was something about him that inspired a sense of openness, a desire to let down the barriers and reveal my true self. in this clandestine dance we were engaged in, honesty became a dangerous yet irresistible allure.

as the music swirled around us, i found myself entranced by the rhythm of the dance, not caring about the curious gazes or whispered speculations from onlookers. in that moment, all that mattered was the connection i felt with jeonghan, the exhilaration of living in the present and embracing the unexpected.

our bodies moved in perfect harmony, as if we had danced together countless times before. the world around us faded into the background, and it was just us—two strangers bound by secrets, drawn together by a shared purpose.

as the afternoon sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the scene, i couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and contentment. this was my last dance, my final foray into a world of deception and illusion. the allure of quick money and the thrill of swindling were losing their grip on me, replaced by a desire for something more genuine, something real.

as the last notes of the music filled the air, we slowly came to a stop, still holding each other close. i looked into jeonghan's eyes, feeling an unspoken connection between us. it was a connection forged in the shadows, a shared understanding of the life we had led and the choices we had made.

"care to escape the crowd for a while?" jeonghan inquired, a playful glint in his eyes, after our dance had ended.

"absolutely," i replied with a hint of excitement, feeling drawn to this enigmatic stranger. without hesitation, he extended his hand, and i willingly placed mine in his, letting him lead me away from the bustling venue. it was a daring move, following someone i had just met, but an inexplicable connection urged me to take this leap into the unknown.

together, we ventured out into the serene countryside, the distant music fading into the background as we strolled along the quiet, deserted roads. the air was cool and refreshing, the gentle breeze caressing our faces like a gentle reminder of the freedom we had found in each other's company. with every step, it felt as if the world around us melted away, leaving only the two of us, our souls entwined in a moment of shared intimacy and understanding.

curiosity tinged my voice as i questioned jeonghan about his familiarity with the secluded surroundings. "how do you know this place?" i inquired, hoping to unravel the mystery behind his intimate knowledge.

a playful smile curved his lips as he confessed, "i've been here for over a week, exploring the hidden corners and secret gems that this countryside has to offer." his response intrigued me, raising more questions than answers. what had brought him to this remote location? what secrets did he carry within him?

turning the tables, jeonghan posed a question of his own, his gaze fixed on me with an intense curiosity. "why are you here?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine intrigue. it was a query that delved deeper than the mere physical presence in this particular place.

caught off guard by his question, i hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much i should reveal. but something in his eyes, a glimmer of understanding, encouraged me to be honest. "someone asked me to be here," i confessed, my voice filled with a mix of resignation and defiance. it was an acknowledgment of the role i had played, the choices i had made, and the path i had walked until this moment.

a knowing smile played on jeonghan's lips, and his words lingered in the air like a delicate secret shared between two kindred souls. "i know what you are, y/n," he uttered, his voice carrying a weight of wisdom and experience.

a flicker of surprise danced across my features as his words hit their mark. it was an unexpected revelation, a mirror reflecting the truth i had concealed beneath layers of secrecy. in that moment, our connection deepened, as if we were two sides of the same coin, united by our shared understanding of the world we had chosen to navigate.

a mischievous gleam sparkled in his eyes as he countered my confession with a cryptic response, "it takes one to know one." his words held a sense of truth and recognition, unveiling the hidden layers of our identities that we had sought to protect. in this dance of mystery and intrigue, we stood as equals, each harboring our own secrets, united in our unspoken understanding of the shadows we both inhabited.

"engaged in the art of hustling for a better life, weaving intricate tales tailored to their desires," he disclosed, peering into the depths of my existence with a knowing gaze. his words seemed to peel away the layers of my life, exposing the intricacies that lay beneath the surface.

his voice carried a hint of admiration as he remarked, "you're just like me, driven by a single aspiration. nothing else but a taste of luxury, perhaps a fancy car to symbolize our triumph." in that moment, it felt as if our souls had connected, recognizing a shared pursuit of dreams and aspirations that transcended societal norms and expectations.

i breathed in the cool evening air, contemplating my confession. "this will be my last one, you know?" i admitted, my voice tinged with a mix of resolve and uncertainty.

jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving mine. "your conscience is starting to eat you?" he speculated, seemingly trying to understand my motivations.

"no," i replied firmly, shaking my head. "it's just that... i've realized there's more to life than this. i want to break free from this cycle, from lies and deception. i want something different, something real." as the words left my lips, i could feel a glimmer of hope blossoming within me, the possibility of a new path emerging from the ashes of my past.

his laughter cut through the air, a mixture of amusement and cynicism. "well, good luck with that," he chuckled, his voice laced with a hint of skepticism. "you can never really escape from this, you know? i'm sure you understand deep down that you'll soon pay for your lies. so why bother stopping?"

i met his gaze, my determination unyielding. "because i refuse to be defined by my past mistakes," i replied, my voice steady. "i may have been caught in this web of deception, but i believe there's a chance for redemption. i want to find my own truth, my own path, even if it means breaking free from the comfort of this lifestyle. i want to create a future that's not built on deceit and illusion."

jeonghan's eyes searched mine, a mix of curiosity and disbelief flickering within them. "it's a dangerous game we play," he murmured, his voice tinged with a touch of resignation. "but if you're determined to find a different path, then i won't stand in your way. just be prepared for the consequences that await."

with a nod, i acknowledged his warning, aware of the challenges and risks that lay ahead. yet, deep within me, a flicker of hope burned brightly, driving me to seek a life of authenticity and purpose. as jeonghan and i stood there, on the outskirts of the countryside, we both carried our own burdens and desires, each embarking on a journey that would test the limits of our resolve and reshape our destinies.

"how about you?"

a wistful smile crossed his lips as he shook his head. "oh, no, no. this is my life now," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and acceptance. "i've traveled too far down this path to turn back. swindling, hustling—it's become my way of survival."

i could sense the weight of his words, the burden of a life immersed in deception. it was a stark reminder of the choices we make and the consequences they entail. while i sought a chance at redemption, jeonghan appeared resigned to his fate.

"anyway, about the man who sent you here, do you worry that he might discover your deception? i mean, you plan to leave once everything is done."

"well, i won't make a quick exit. once i secure the money in a week, i might extend my stay here for a little while longer. but honestly, i couldn't care less about him."

"what's amusing is that he genuinely believed i was the one for him," i added.

———————

in the few weeks that passed, as our conversations deepened and our connection grew stronger, it felt as if jeonghan and i were bound by an invisible thread, drawn together by an inexplicable force. despite the brevity of our encounter here in italy, it was as though we had known each other for a lifetime. the barriers of deceit that we had carefully constructed around ourselves seemed to crumble in the presence of our shared understanding.

late-night conversations turned into early morning musings as we explored the intricacies of our lives and the desires that lay hidden beneath the surface. it was as if we could read each other's thoughts without uttering a single word. our interactions transcended the realm of superficiality, delving into the depths of our souls, where vulnerability and authenticity resided.

the days passed in a blur as we reveled in the joy of this newfound connection. the enchanting conversations and the understanding that unfolded between us left me yearning for more, eager to discover the depths of jeonghan's soul and to share the complexities of my own.

as our bond deepened, i found myself opening up about the life i had led, the choices i had made, and the reasons that had driven me to become a hustler. jeonghan, too, shared the secrets of his past, the shadows that had shaped his present, and the dreams that lingered within his heart.

with each passing day, it became clear that jeonghan and i were kindred spirits, seeking solace in each other's company, even amidst a world of deception and duplicity. our connection was rooted in a shared understanding of the emptiness that lurked beneath the surface of our extravagant lifestyles, a void that could only be filled by genuine connections and authentic experiences.

as we strolled along the familiar road, hand in hand, i couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in jeonghan's presence. the gentle breeze rustled our hair, carrying with it the sweet scent of the countryside. passing by, i noticed a group of curious ladies sharing hushed whispers and intrigued glances as they observed us. it seemed our connection had not gone unnoticed, but their curiosity was of little concern to us.

"what really is your name?" i asked, my fingers interlocked with his.

a soft chuckle escaped jeonghan's lips, amusement dancing in his eyes. "i already told you the first time we met, y/n," he replied, a touch of playfulness evident in his response. his voice, like a gentle melody, brought a sense of familiarity, as if we were revisiting the moment we first encountered each other in italy.

i had initially believed that my encounter with jeonghan would be just another fleeting moment in my life, but now i realize that it has changed me in ways i never expected. he showed me the possibility of genuine connection, and i've come to the realization that i may never experience love again. however, this moment also marks the end of my deceptive ways. from now on, i'm committed to being truthful and sincere in all my actions and relationships.

as i reflect on my newfound commitment to honesty, i can't help but be plagued by uncertainties about jeonghan's true intentions. despite my declaration to leave behind my deceitful ways, i wonder if he shares the same perspective. is he genuinely on the same page as me, or does he view me differently from the people he usually interacts with in his games? am i truly special to him, or am i just another player in his world?

these questions linger in my mind, causing a mix of excitement and trepidation. i find myself analyzing every interaction, trying to discern if his feelings match mine. as we continue to spend time together, i observe the small gestures, the lingering glances, and the moments of shared laughter. they all hint at a deeper connection, but i remain cautious not to let my heart run wild with assumptions.

like the elusive hanging gardens of babylon, whose existence remains a mystery with only written accounts to rely on, i find myself clinging to the words of jeonghan, the person i've come to love. yet, doubt and uncertainty cloud my heart, mirroring the ambiguity that shrouds those ancient gardens.

with each passing day, my emotions hang delicately in the balance, swaying between hope and fear. i yearn to believe that jeonghan is sincere, but a lingering unease gnaws at my soul. like the whispers of ancient tales, the cautionary voices of my past experiences caution me against trusting too easily.

but despite the shadows of doubt, i choose to stay, entangled in the tender moments we share. my heart longs for the promise of love, even as the world around us feels uncertain and veiled. the fragile threads of our connection hold me captive, as i navigate the intricacies of falling for someone whose truth i cannot fully grasp.

in the midst of this emotional maze, i remain suspended, clinging to the spoken word, hoping that the beauty of our love will transcend the uncertainties and blossom like the mythical gardens of babylon. yet, beneath it all, a melancholic undercurrent persists, as i wonder if our love is destined to be as elusive and enigmatic as the ancient wonders of the world.

as my doubts and worries consumed me, jeonghan's perceptive nature picked up on my silent contemplation, prompting him to break the silence with his heartfelt words.

"you know, y/n," he began, his voice laced with a blend of sincerity and conviction. "i firmly believe that each person is granted three significant chances in their lifetime, pivotal moments that shape their destiny. and i am unequivocally certain that you, y/n, are the most significant turning point in mine."

his words washed over me, carrying a weight and significance that pierced through the walls of my uncertainty. i gazed into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit, but all i found was sincerity and vulnerability. jeonghan's admission left me at a crossroads, torn between my apprehensions and the undeniable connection we shared.

"three chances?" i repeated softly, my heart fluttering with both hope and trepidation. the notion of being a pivotal figure in his life stirred a mix of emotions within me, wondering if i could truly embrace such a role.

"yes," he continued, his voice steady and earnest. "i've spent so much of my life playing games and deceiving others, but you've changed something in me. i can't quite explain it, but i feel like you've given me a chance at something real, something genuine."

the vulnerability in his words struck a chord deep within me. i had always believed in second chances, but the idea of being one of his three felt both daunting and meaningful. part of me yearned to believe in the possibility of a transformative connection, while another part remained guarded, afraid to get swept up in the whirlwind of emotions.

as the words hung in the air, the weight of the moment became palpable. i could feel the gravity of our connection, the potential for something profound and life-changing. but was i ready to take that leap of faith, to trust that his intentions were as sincere as he claimed?

"i don't want to play games with you, jeonghan," i confessed, my voice tinged with vulnerability.

he smiled, "thank you for dancing with me a few weeks ago, y/n."

as jeonghan spoke those words, a rush of emotions washed over me, reminding me of the moment our paths had intertwined on that fateful day. "you're welcome," i replied softly, my heart beating a little faster at the memory. "it was a beautiful dance."

he smiled, that same enchanting smile that had captivated me from the start. "i can't help but feel that it was more than just a dance," he said, his gaze lingering on mine.

i swallowed the lump in my throat, unable to deny the truth in his words. that dance had been a catalyst, the beginning of a connection that had blossomed into something meaningful. "perhaps you're right," i admitted, a hint of vulnerability seeping into my voice.

"y/n, i want you to know that you've changed my life," he continued, his sincerity shining through. "since the moment we met, i knew there was something different about you. you've given me a chance to be true to myself, to leave behind the life of deception i had grown accustomed to."

his words touched my heart, and i couldn't help but feel the weight of the responsibility he had placed on our newfound connection. "i'm glad i could be a part of that change for you," i said softly, my fingers gently intertwining with his.

"you're not just a part of it, y/n. you're the reason behind it all," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "you've shown me the beauty of honesty, of vulnerability, and i don't want to let that go."

my heart swelled with emotion, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings and the significance of our bond. "i don't want to let go either," i whispered, my voice filled with sincerity.

in that moment, we stood on the precipice of a new beginning, two souls drawn together by the allure of authenticity and genuine connection. the weight of our pasts seemed to fade away as we embraced the promise of a future built on trust and openness.

as the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the horizon, jeonghan and i stood hand in hand, ready to embark on a journey of love and healing. the gardens of babylon might have been a mythical wonder, but the love we had discovered in each other was real and tangible, a beautiful oasis blooming amidst the deserts of our pasts. together, we would nurture this love, tending to its delicate petals and allowing it to flourish in the warmth of our hearts. and in this newfound love, we found solace, knowing that we had both finally found our way home.

[audrey-carr1]

The Baroness makes house calls (Part 1)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: You are an unmarried, educated, wealthy orphan who develops a relationship with the lady across the way in Woodstone Manor.

A/N: More Hetty x reader I'm pulling from the drafts! This is unrelated to the first one I posted. Also Hetty is alive in this one! This more than likely won't be more than a couple of one-shots tied together. Who knows lol.

warnings: fem!reader, eventual smut,

At the age of twenty-three, you had received news that your parents were lost at sea and presumably passed on.

At twenty-four, you became known as the orphan heiress. Though you were well educated, thanks to the insistence of your mother, your single nature left you with gentlemen throwing themselves left and right for a chance at your fortune.

At twenty-five you became a spinster and planned to stay that way. Men who tried to court you have been found to con artists, or just full of boredom. You never felt that spark you often heard your married friends talk about. You had given up on finding love, and have become fond of being alone. No obligations of a husband or children left you freer than most women your age. Your time is spent on afternoon walks seeking solitude in nature. You enjoyed the sound of the birds chirping and babbling in the nearby spring as it fed into the lake. You were always alone on your walks at least until you turned twenty-six.

At the age of twenty-six, you find yourself enjoying the company of your new neighbors, the Woodstones. Well, you enjoy the company of Hetty, her husband Elias was never truly around. Hetty was like no one you met before. She was smart, funny, and very quick-witted. The two of you often find yourselves talking until the wee hours of the morning. It became so common that you both have respect bedrooms in each other’s house. Your visits are more frequent as her children are school-aged, and have been sent away for their schooling. “The best that money has to offer,” Hetty always says before a titter of laughter.

You love Hetty’s laugh, it’s the sweetest music you have ever heard and you try to make her laugh as much as you can. Deep down you sense a sadness in Hetty, and you feel an unnerving sense of duty to remove that sadness from her.

Hetty offers her guidance to you whenever she sees fit. Though a woman, Hetty has an impeccable eye for business procedures. If she were a man Hetty would no doubt be more successful than any man you have come into contact with. Hetty helps you balance your books, pick good staffing, and even buys you a telephone. You never understood why as the two of you talked every day in person. Hetty says a young woman of such status as mine should have something to gloat to her friends about.

Hetty would never admit that she got the phone to check up on you when you had fallen ill, and needed to hear your voice to assure you were recovering. A month ago you had fallen ill, and Hetty was beside herself with worry not being able to see or speak to you. Your staff often informed you that Hetty was downstairs keeping the house in running order and asking about your recovery. She had even sent a couple of doctors away who did not help you to recover any sooner. By day 3 of your illness, you were on your 5th doctor. Hetty’s reach knows no bounds or expense. She wanted the best for you even if you were barely coherent to acknowledge the gesture.

On day 4 of your illness, a telephone was installed in your bedroom. It was the middle of the night when you woke to an insistent ringing that did nothing to help the pounding you felt in your head as you reached to pick up the receiver.

“Devereaux residence,” you answer

“(Y/n)” Hetty sighs on the other end

“Hetty! Oh how I have missed the sound of your voice,” you immediately perk up sitting up in bed.

“And I, yours,” Hetty spoke softly into the phone.

“I feel absolutely, positively dreadful, Hetty,” You sniffle wiping your nose on a nearby handkerchief.

“I know my darling, the doctor says you have influenza,” Hetty explains. The term of endearment slips, and Hetty hopes you don't mind let alone notice.

“How wonderful,” you say as you move the phone away from your face to cough, “I miss you Hetty.”

You did not mean to sound so needy, but you blame it on the fever and hope Hetty would too.

“I miss you terribly as well. I’m sure your staff will be happy to be rid of me once you’re recovered,”

This makes you laugh, and you smile for the first time in days. “Well I’m sure your staff must be happy to have you away from home,”

“While the cat’s away the mice will play. Do you know Molly has barely dusted the house while I’ve been gone?”

You laugh once more as Hetty goes on to explain the ongoings of what you’ve missed while bedridden. You try to stay awake, but the medicine you took earlier is beginning to take hold again. You fall asleep again to the sound of Hetty’s voice leaving the phone next to your ear on the pillow.

Hetty notices that you have gone silent, and for a fraction begins to worry before she hears your soft snoring. The two of you must have gotten caught up in the excitement of finally being able to talk to each other after almost a week. Hetty begins to scold herself for such behavior but can’t help the warmth she feels after speaking with you.

“Sleep well my darling,” Hetty says before hanging up the phone and retiring to bed herself.

-End-

A/N: See you in part two!

[paintbrushnebula]

Here's a buncha my personal Gwen Stacy Headcanons that no one asked for but I'm giving anyway :3 I wrote a Butt Ton and I hope y'all like really 'em 🐧

Gwen was a very tough, reckless kid growing up. She tripped and fell a LOT because she liked doing stunts and parkouring on literally everything, but she'd never cry. George was always scared of Gwen getting hurt from her stunts but he was impressed (if a little freaked) by how she'd get right back up afterward like it was nothing. Gwen was just a very naturally durable child. She'd always have at least one band-aid on her somewhere.

(My sister wrote this one): As a result of her absolutely Tasmanian devil type recklessness, George would cut her hair SUPER short as a child, like pixie hair type short to avoid having to always wash out the bugs and dirt and leaves and wood chips and literally anything she grabs and just goes "Savin this for later yo" in her hair. (She still stuck stuff in her hair and honestly liked the short hair better cuz she could run faster, but ey it reduced the expenses on baby shampoo SIGNIFICANTLY) n she wasn't allowed to grow her scruffy little spike head hair long again till she was like 8 poor georgie was struggling for ideas he's just a guy HES JUST A GUY MAN !!!!!

Gwen begged George for a penguin as a pet when she was 5 but was told that penguins can't be pets. She played club penguin almost every day until middle school. She starts playing it again after they defeat the Spot. Margo plays it with her all the time. Gwen was absolutely appalled when she discovered that Club Penguin is discontinued in Miles' universe.

Yeah she's 100% patching things up with Glory, Em Jay, and Betty after Beyond the Spiderverse. The Mary Janes become a successful niche band very quickly now that Gwen is fully committed and she even performs as lead vocalist every now and then. Gwen eventually starts writing and singing songs of her own for their shows. She also starts spending more time with them outside the band.

Gwen and Peter's favorite childhood activity was making home videos. Peter's videos emulate Bill Nye the Science Guy; he'd showcase all these experiments/prepared presentations and ramble on about them pretending he's this world renowned scientist. Gwen's videos are her doing crazy stunts on her skateboard, or inspecting exotic bugs/lizards with her bare heckin' hands and talking to them in funny voices. They'd each film the other's videos. They stopped making them when they reached middle school; life just got harder for the both of them due to increased bullying, Gwen becoming Spider-Woman, and Peter's mental health getting worse. Gwen still has their old video camera with all their videos still intact, but since Peter's death, she hasn't been able to bring herself to watch them again.

She loves saying "yell heah"/"yell hes"/"what the yell"/"aw yellll nahhh" a lot

Big fan of action/neo-noir/crime thriller movies: John Wick, Sicario, Baby Driver, Nightcrawler, Pulp Fiction, Batman, etc. Just any piece of fiction with Misunderstood Action Person who's always On The Run, hunted by the law but just trying to get by, struggling to survive in an unjust system. Toootallllyyy doesn't hit close to home for her.

PC gamer? Yell hes.

She's a surprisingly talented voice artist/impressionist with impressive range. She already figured out how to perfectly mimic Hobie's cockney British accent after like a week. She never forgets a voice and can do quickly do impressions of lots of famous fictional characters. She'll come up with all these funny voices to make Miles laugh or prank call people. She LOVES prank calling people.

Part of George's motivation for letting Gwen take up ballet was so that she could learn proper balance/coordination so she'd be more careful when performing all her stunts. I think that Gwen used to be naturally clumsy until ballet taught her proper agility. He thought that if she was gonna be a little daredevil, then she could at least be able to catch herself before her face is slamming into the pavement.

Gwen is a big nickname-giver. She calls Miles "Bambi" (he looks like a baby deer to her), Margo is "Mars Bar", Peni is "Panini", and Pav is "Pavlova." She mostly nicknames people after food really.

She's not really a candy person but she is definitely a junk food person. M&Ms, Cool Ranch Doritos, Pringles, soft drinks (favors coke), Reese's, Cheez-its (her favorite), Oreos, and your typical fast foods.

After the Spot fiasco is over and she and Miles are months into their relationship, Gwen starts putting on a bit of weight. Not that much, but her form fills out enough to be noticeable. I like the idea that she becomes so happy with herself post-Beyond that she indulges herself a little, yknow? She takes an immediate liking to Rio's food and Rio is always giving her extra leftovers to take home or packs her something to eat during Spider-missions. She doesn't become aware of the extra weight until Miles' clothes start fitting her a little tighter than she remembers (he's very skinny after all). She's very happy with her new shape and chooses not to lose it (mostly because she refuses to have to eat less which honestly same)

Going back to the home video headcanon; Peter actually recorded one last video the night before the prom. In the video, he presents the vial containing the lizard serum to the viewer and explains his plan to drink the serum so he can get revenge on everyone who bullied him at the school. The way Peter enthusiastically presents his plan in the video is eerily similar to the old science videos he recorded as a child. At the end of the video, he rambles about how excited he is to become "special like her," but he doesn't elaborate further; anyone who isn't Gwen won't know who he's talking about. Since Gwen hasn't opened that video camera to this day, she has no idea the video exists (I don't know if she ever sees it).

I'll post the next part of that 'Gwen Stacy is Sick' comic tomorrow I promise XD

[legallybrunettedotcom]

hello !! :) today a friend of mine asked me this question and if you’re ok with it, i wanted to know your version: if you could host a party with your favourite artists ever (musicians, directors, writers, editors, actors etc) what kind of party would you organize & who would you invite?

oh what a fun question! feel free to tell me your own choices, anon! would love to know! i think i'll make it a dinner party. i can envision a beautifully decorated table, some candles, it's intimate, it's cozy. i don't know if all these people would mesh well but they are my favourites and i've connected with their artistry and work.

i definitely need fka twigs there. she's such a renaissance woman. so incredibly talented and curious. i remember when i first stumbled upon her back in high school, it was the two weeks music video and it was like finding a precious gemstone. even at that moment it felt like i just witnessed something important and crucial. everything she does is so cohesive and sturdy and idk how else to say it, but some music is like a snack, while her albums and everything that comes with them is like a five-course meal.

then i'll say trent reznor. he's a genius to me. i discovered nine inch nails when i was like 20 and it was the perfect moment. he gets me. he gets self-loathing like no one else. he wants to skin himself alive and you can hear it in his voice. there's so much variety in his discography, from industrial to these more ambient and atmospheric albums to his movie soundtrack endeavour. i think he also stayed true to his artistry, as much as one can, and i think he's funny, very no bullshit allowed type of person so yeah. and he has a super hot and talented wife that needs to come to my party too.

ok so another musician, david bowie. he's another renaissance person. i like re-invention, i like never staying the same, trying to fit as many lives as you possibly can in one life. he has that chameleon-like quality in his work and when i first discovered his music it was this moment of recognition, of someone getting the anxiety and passion that comes with creativity.

i need a painter now, and i'm choosing jean-michel basquiat. when i was a child, i used to catch this movie called basquiat from 1996 on tv all the time and i was so transfixed. looking back it's not a particularly great movie or like a super accurate depiction of his life, but at the time i didn't know that. i was just in awe. like as an idk 10 year old i've never seen someone so interesting and different and cool. it was a sort of entrance into the art world beyond those like classic old masters.

for film, well my favourite director is david fincher. i would say that everyone i list here gets my heart and the emotional aspect, while he gets my brain. his films scratch my brain and there is something clinical and sterile about his films that attracts me. he dissects things, he's a surgeon and an investigator, he gets research, all his characters are obsessive freaks who can't stop peeling the layers of the object of their obsession.

another film person. i'm choosing someone who is a menace and might create some commotion at the party and that's dennis hopper. his story, in his own words, is the one of great potential largely squandered by a rebellious nature and self-destructive hedonism. he's just an interesting guy and i think it would be so fun to hear his stories, but underneath all these crazy stories and like life ruining decisions is someone whose approach to life is very much create or die.

i think i need a writer there and tbh i don't really have favourite writers. i have my favourite books but i still haven't found my writer, like someone who i cling to, but i'll choose my favourite poet who is rainer maria rilke. he wasn't really religious but his poetry was doused in it, the way he talked about God was so beautiful and different. his art was his prayers and i feel like all i was supposed to get from religion i never did, but instead it was art and philosophy that offered that to me. he was someone who believed he was nothing if he wasn't an artist and he was this eternal spectator in life, you can really see his dedication to details in his words. i love the way he talks about nature, i am instantly there wherever his words are. i think he was just a very sensitive soul burdened by the search for truth that he'll never be able to touch.

i think i'll stop here. it's so funny bc i now notice 5 out of 7 of these are earth signs lmao.

[nochi-quinn]

candela obscura chapter 3 episode 1: oh god everybody's fucked up

I'm here, I fell asleep and missed the start but I'm here

lmao the immediate note-taking

ur really committing to that voice huh liam

marisha made an older character and liam said hold my dentures

STEAMPUNK JAZZY

heyyyy someone else makes the joke I picked up from a stargate episode 20 years ago

liam what was that look

absolutely love ashly's wig

sam looking like he got hit with a cattle prod

what's a sam reigel

why are we getting oscar's CV

"are they hot"

listen I saw the trailer he 100% uses that chain to beat people with

"no one calls you carey, oscar"

oh no he's hot

oh he's kotallo, that's why

the flat cap does look good on sam, I can't lie

y'all that's gay

I like cordelia's little halo

eloise best character

(maybe that's the look liam was giving ashly, eloise vs elsie)

elsie's a werewolf calling it

yesss the old people guilt trip

liam

oscar: I'm gonna punch a ghost

"you're wearing a ball gown. it's the morning."

the maw??

haha it took me until literally this moment to remember ashly is aloy, my ship is reunited

"I'm using my bullshit detector" did you get that cleared with the gm

I like the term "blood and guts doctor"

I've been watching S1G play Slay the Princess and the more they describe her the more she sounds like a Princess variant

oh no lights

liam you did that on purpose

oh Aadtika (?) is a very pretty name

"lung, heart" liver, nerves

"you have an extra house?" "you don't?"

rajan

"you slick son of a bitch"

he IS a slick son of a bitch

oh sam's being THAT character

prepared to spend three episodes threatening to punch oscar in the head and throw him in the pool

("nochi nobody read your free! livetweets" well maybe they should have)

sam doesn't watch the product

liam always wants to roleplay fish and chips

[picks elsie and raj up and shakes them until backstory falls out]

"I'll be as subtle as I can be" smash cut to him beating someone to death with a chain

the docks seems like a terrible place to play baseball

sam

did they do a dndbeyond for candela?

they did!

sam forgot he was short

"high stakes not for harm" but bc it's funny

rajan: oh I am NOT involved, you made that VERY clear

"don't waste that on me" "I agree"

I'm being gaslit bc I've always pronounced "copse" like "cope" with an "s" in it

shades of the old man at my previous psych office yelling about obama's secret weather machine

"I help by SCREAMING"

grandpa's making a wheel for it

[mabel pines voice] grappling hook!

the way sam rolls dice STILL kills me

oh good, everyone else also thinks they should fuck

"why can't we just be friends? oh right, because I don't like you."

what the fuck's a flashlight

"yeah! temperature play! :D" aabria

"do you go down my little hole" "of course!" aren't y'all divorced

oh no an ot3

don't say degloved that means something else

oh I dig that

werewolf!

lights!

were….thing!

oh no aabria's doing the voice

everything goes black, and you die

l…lights?

breathing?

how could crcw not have prepared me for this

immortal asshole oscar grimm

EXCUSE

oh he's an asshole because he gave up the non-asshole bits to bargain with death

hey sam what the fuck

oh hey ashly. ow.

thump thumps? why?

loud??

imagine if oscar coming back just freaked elsie right back into beast mode

there's another hour left of this wtf happens

yessssss "I'd take a bullet for him but I wouldn't go drinking with him" my beloved

local woman realizing that everyone around her is an absolute freak

liam's startled old man noise

"ohhh I'm not good at that"

ACTION GLASSES

wait I don't understand what he just did

oh he did a drug

little bird ;-;

his WHAT

chairsword!

it glows blue when there are nuns nearby

where's that one digital devil saga monster

I desperately need an artist's rendition of this orca-mantis-thing

excuse me

I keep missing the spelling of his sister's name

"oh god everybody's fucked up"

A WHAT built in his WHAT

augh eye stuff no quiero

is noshir lefthanded?

I kind of half-called that

"that felt like twenty. that was a season."

BEEKEEPER

"do you know you're covered in bees?"

I like my women like I like my coffee

"because yours is super chill"

liam you can uncommit to the voice

(he will not)

"drop the skincare routine"

[oh-hush-its-perfect]

how the hoo characters would react upon being asked about taylor swift

PERCY: She's pretty good. Yeah, I listened to the new version of Speak Now and it kinda went harder than I thought it would. I'm not, like, a "worship the ground she walks on" kinda guy, but I guess I like enough of her songs to consider myself a Swiftie. Guilty pleasure, I guess.

ANNABETH: Oh, gosh. People always ask me this. Uh, long story short— oh, right, that's one of her songs. That's kinda funny— I liked her music a lot when I was younger. Like, "Better than Revenge" was my thing when I was fifteen. And, yeah, I've listened to most of her albums. I liked Midnights and folklore and evermore. But I was never in love with her as a person. I just relate to some of her songs. Oh, gods, I couldn't count how many times I've cried to "Would've, Could've, Should've." But I heard someone call her the "greatest songwriter of our generation," and that's just... That's a bit bizarre for me. I think she's good as an artist, though. So... I guess I like her music, but I'm definitely not a Swiftie.

PIPER: Uhhh, I don't know. Like, her music is terrible or anything, but it's not really my taste. But as a person? I don't know, the whole Matty Healy thing just rubbed me the wrong way, and... I mean, she's a rich white lady doing rich white lady things. My dad asked me if I wanted her at my birthday party once. I said no, but I also said no to the Regrettes, and I'm literally in love with Lydia Knight. I'm happy for her with the tour and all, but not really my scene, no. But Jason likes her so I try to be supportive.

JASON: Oh, my gods. She's like... I don't know if she's my favorite artist, but she's up there. I mean, like, she's just so classy and her music is just so good. The way she uses synths is like... it's like magic. And her lyrics— I mean, you can't get much more relatable than that. My favorite album is probably... Lover? Or maybe Red. Then again, maybe it's 1989. It's so hard to pick. I guess I'm kind of a hopeless romantic at the end of the day.

LEO: Taylor Swift? Well, like, she's hot.

THALIA: Not really my style. But if she did a punk-pop or metal album, I'd be down for that. Like, I heard a metal cover of "Look What You Made Me Do" once, and it went so hard. She's really got a good voice for punk, too. Saw a video of her doing a vocal growl on that one song— uh, what's it called? "We are Never Getting Back Together" or something like that? Anyway, that sounded really good. But I don't really like her environmental impact. You could ask Rachel about that. I bet she'd have a lot to say.

RACHEL: Taylor— Listen. Don't get me started on Taylor Swift. Her music is mediocre at best, and her carbon footprint? Holy Hades! I saw somewhere that that one study that said 8,000 tonnes was wrong and it's actually more like 1,000 tonnes, but that was taken from half of a year during a global pandemic. She wasn't even touring or anything. The woman's a multimillionaire. With that kind of money, you would think that she'd be more environmentally conscious, but no. Not at all. And I guess it's cool or whatever that she pays her people well, but, like, that's the bare minimum. Taylor Swift. I didn't like her before all that about her environmental impact and stuff came out, and I definitely don't like how she dates racist guys, and I hate the way people worship her and follow her like lemmings, y'know?

HAZEL: Who?

FRANK: Oh, she's good, I suppose. Never got super invested in her or her music or anything. I don't really know anything about her except that people love her, and her singles are fine, I guess. I liked that one song "cardigan."

NICO: Uh, I feel like people shouldn't really ask me about music. My music taste kinda sucks. But sure, Taylor Swift makes some good music. Annabeth played me a few songs once. I really liked "Haunted," I think it's called.

REYNA: I don't follow her life and I haven't listened to any of her albums or anything. I mostly listen to Latin music, to be honest. But she's a woman and she's extremely successful, so I suppose I'm happy for her.

[Coach Hedge immediately starts singing "Shake It Off" when asked and did not provide any further comment.]

OCTAVIAN: I can't believe some people call that trash "music." It's so low-brow and vapid. Only eleven year old girls actually like that kind of thing. Me, I listen to real music— the classics, like Mozart. My favorite song by him is definitely "Canon in D."

[chl-owo-e]

OK GUYS A POST FROM @radiant-reid GAVE ME THIS IDEA AND I REALLY WANTED TO CHECK AND SEE IF IT WORKS

It does! If you go to an AI bot and ask it to write something for you it will! Im only gunna use this bot for art ideas and maybe for promt ideas too. But in this case I did an experiment for some Spencer Reid fan fiction. Should I make this a series? And see what the bot makes for some well liked characters?

(Spencer Reid X Reader)

———————————————————————

Title: A Chance Encounter

Spencer Reid was sitting in a coffee shop, lost in thought, when he heard a soft voice say, "Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

He looked up and saw a woman standing in front of him, holding a cup of coffee. She was standing there shyly, and her eyes sparkled with intelligence and warmth. Spencer couldn't help but be captivated by her beauty.

"No, it's not taken," he said, gesturing to the empty seat across from him.

The woman sat down and smiled at him. "Thanks. My name is Y/n," she said, extending her hand.

"Spencer," he replied, shaking her hand.

They struck up a conversation, and Spencer bc found that he enjoyed talking to Y/n. She was smart, funny, and had an insatiable curiosity about the world. As they talked, Spencer felt a connection forming between them, and he realized that he was beginning to develop feelings for her.

Over the next few weeks, Spencer and Y/n continued to meet at the coffee shop. They talked about everything from literature to science, and Spencer found himself looking forward to their meetings. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he was afraid of ruining their friendship.

One day, as they were walking out of the coffee shop, Spencer mustered up the courage to ask her out on a date. "Y/n, I know we've been meeting here for a while, and I really enjoy your company. Would you like to go out on a date with me?"

Y/n smiled and replied, "I'd love to, Spencer."

Their first date was at a museum, where they explored the exhibits and talked about their favorite paintings and sculptures. Spencer felt like he had finally found someone who understood him, and he knew that he wanted to be with Y/n for a long time.

As their relationship progressed, Spencer and Y/n faced challenges, but they worked through them together. They supported each other through their personal and professional struggles and grew closer every day.

Years later, as they sat in the same coffee shop where they had first met, Spencer looked at Y/n and said, "I'm so glad that I met you that day. You've changed my life in so many ways, and I can't imagine living without you."

Y/n smiled and replied, "I feel the same way, Spencer. You've brought so much joy and happiness into my life, and I'm grateful for every moment we've spent together."

And as they held hands and looked into each other's eyes, Spencer knew that he had found the love of his life in Y/n.

———————————————————————

A/N; I dont want this to be me just using AI to get some like on tumblr so if I do make this a series Ill edit it and add my twist to it. AI is getting dangerous for artists and writers and a lot more people, all because its just a robot creating things for free for someone to use and I dont want me to ‘capitalize’ off of it. As a Artist and a Writer, Im kinda worried for my un-forsaken future because of this thing.

[dankusner]

"Oh God, Chip, I wish you weren't my brother so I could fuck you!" "I'll have a side order, ma'am." I felt like ... Winona Ryder. A woman more powerful than me?

She's.... discovered a lump. Chaos by Donna Karan. Bonus for you!

No one speaks of pavilions any more, and that saddens me.

"Come Back to the Five & Dime, Barbara Streisand, Barbara Streisand" "Look, nobody said it would be easy, being celebrity communists."

“It was a portrait Norman Rockwell forgot to paint.”

Someone's Mother Home Again in oils

Because I love to sit around my motel room after my show in my bra and panties and I'll say to somebody Get me a Remy Martin with a water back God damn it Thank you I know they like it and I do too

And she went down the stony end

I can recall to this day the thrill of knowing

When I was a little girl I used to go home for lunch every day -

My parents got divorced five years ago after 38 years of marriage -

My father's a proctologist my mother's an abstract artist

We went to the 1965 New York World's Fair in 1964

"But mister, if this is about Ishtar I'm getting up and walking out of here right now, because that's too self-indulgent for even me."

"Oh, my God... there must have been dust on those Mints..

Funny Girl was hot that year and I begged my father to take us to see it

"It was a portrait Norman Rockwell forgot to paint - 'Someone's Mother Home Again'... in Oils!"

"You know things are bad when you start resenting Linda Hunt. Oh, they found another project for her? I'm THRILLED."

"a range of spermicidal jams and jellies around The Area."

Babe, tonight in church in that Laura Ashley dress? You were magnificent. And thanks for helping me in the kitchen --don't know what I'd do without you, kitten.

"Somebody hands you a tambourine!"

In June, while promoting her show "Everything Bad & Beautiful," which stops at the Majestic Theatre on Friday, Bernhard appeared on "The View"

Remember, this was daytime talk show's old guard, but Meredith Viera had already jumped ship.

Barbara Walters brought up Laura Bush.

And Bernhard described the first lady's apathetic-seeming demeanor as being "heavily medicated."

And that's when co-panelist Elisabeth Hasselbeck flew into a neoconservative tizzy.

The clip should be immortalized on YouTube.

"I walked into the perfect storm. Star Jones knew she was getting fired, so she had her bone to pick. Elisabeth Hasselbeck was ramping up to become the right-wing spokesperson on the show: She thought it was the perfect opportunity for her to flex her political muscle. And without Meredith Viera, who was the only voice of reason, it was like — these chicks have gone fucking postal. But you know, it was perfect. I just laid back and watched the whole thing unfold without getting too involved."

Bernhard did try to defend herself — by mentioning that Laura Bush says nothing when her husband slashes education budgets.

But no one could hear the guest because Hasselbeck and Jones just talked right over Bernhard.

"Well, that's the problem. These chicks don't shut up. They're the worst possible example of why women shouldn't be in power positions — because nobody listens. They're like these harpy bitches, which has become second nature to that show."

After being banned in Dallas, SANDRA BERNHARD returns.

Our bomb-throwing provocateur on: being Natalie Maine’s neighbor, the chaos know as ‘The View,’ and how she and Jack E. Jett hope to seize the talk-show world By DANIEL KUSNER

Calling from her apartment in New York last week, Sandra Bernhard sounds almost chipper.

“I am,” she says. “So much to be chipper about. Just hanging out — waiting for my kid to get home from school.”

So if she’s in the Big Apple, that means that Dixie Chicks front woman, Natalie Maines, lives next door.

“When she’s here. Natalie is in Los Angeles most of the time now, because her husband [actor Adrian Pasdar] is on that show ‘Heroes,’��� Bernhard explains.

Her mellow tone slightly shifts when comparisons are drawn between Maines and the last time Bernhard was scheduled to play Dallas: in 2002, during her post-9/11 “Hero Worship” tour.

Bernhard’s Gypsy Tea Room gig was abruptly yanked — along with a performance scheduled in San Antonio.

When the cancellations were announced, the lesbian performer says she was as surprised as ticket holders.

Bernhard says promoters in Bush’s “announced” home state got cold feet — that they were scared of providing a platform for her shoot-from-the-hip critiques on Orange Alerts and the countless fundraisers for victims of the World Trade Center bombings.

At the time, Maines, of course, was country music’s sacrificial lamb — the Texas sweetheart who spoke out against Bush’s escalation of U.S. troops in Iraq.

As the Bernhard and Maines children played together, the next-door-neighbors spent long hours discussing the culture of “Bush paranoia.”

“It has been the weirdest six years — especially if you’re trying to perform in a city like Dallas or you’re down in Texas. Like there’s been a kind of self-imposed censorship. But I feel a sea-change coming on — especially since the November elections,” Bernhard says.

Less than a year ago, she was still feeling the sting for making anti-Bush criticisms.

In June, while promoting her show “Everything Bad & Beautiful,” which stops at the Majestic Theatre on Friday, Bernhard appeared on “The View.” Remember, this was daytime talk show’s old guard, but Meredith Viera had already jumped ship.

Barbara Walters brought up Laura Bush.

And Bernhard described the first lady’s apathetic-seeming demeanor as being “heavily medicated.”

And that’s when co-panelist Elisabeth Hasselbeck flew into a neo-conservative tizzy.

The clip should be immortalized on YouTube.

“I walked into the perfect storm. Star Jones knew she was getting fired, so she had her bone to pick. Elisabeth Hasselbeck was ramping up to become the right-wing spokesperson on the show: She thought it was the perfect opportunity for her to flex her political muscle. And without Meredith Viera — who was the only voice of reason — it was like — these chicks have gone fucking postal. But you know, it was perfect. I just laid back and watched the whole thing unfold without getting too involved.”

Bernhard did try to defend herself — by mentioning that Laura Bush says nothing when her husband slashes education budgets.

But no one could hear the guest because Hasselbeck and Jones just talked right over Bernhard.

“Well, that’s the problem. These chicks don’t shut up. They’re the worst possible example of why women shouldn’t be in power positions — because nobody listens. They’re like these harpy bitches, which has become second-nature to that show.”

As for the new-and-improved version of “The View,” Bernhard is reluctant to sing Rosie O’Donnell’s praises.

“You must remember, for 10 years Rosie was in total denial — pretended to be something else. My hat is off to her in a certain way. But for somebody like me, who has walked the sexual line and been very forthright and hasn’t had anything handed to her, I’m not impressed,” Bernhard says. “I’ve always paid the price for being outspoken and completely being in everybody’s face: whether it was the gay community trying to make me their spokesperson; or the straight community saying I was too sexually ambiguous,” Bernhard continues. “In this day and age, it’s pretty easy to be outspoken — with all the blogging and shit. I like Rosie, but I don’t think she’s a revelation.”

Perhaps Bernhard will give Rosie a run for her money.

Bernhard’s Dallas visit will reunite her with Jack E. Jett, a gay bomb-thrower in his own right.

When production for Jett’s now-defunct talk show “The Queer Edge” moved from Haltom City to Burbank, Calif., Jett and Bernhard joined forces.

It was a potent and weird cocktail that worked — although no one in North Texas got to see the show, which aired on the QTV network.

But the twosome are trying to keep their chat-show dreams alive.

“We’re pitching the resurgence of our talk show. But won’t be called ‘The Queer Edge’ because we’re going to open it up to everybody. We’ve been spending some time together, finding producers who will take our project and get it set up. Places like Bravo,” she explains.

It’s been almost six years since Sandra Bernhard performed in Dallas.

I ask her if she’ll be doing anything special for the gig — in case North Texans should slap themselves silly if they miss it. And in true Bernhard style, she ends our interview with a threat.

“Oh, honey. Every time I walk onstage, it’s special. You all had better come out. The world has become so ‘American Idol,’ so cookie-cutter. Everybody is laying up on their asses at home — not supporting the great artists,” she says. “So you better get all the queens, the drag queens and dykes. If I do not see the place sold out, I will be readying everybody to filth.”

[reds-corner]

Happy super late birthday M!

Hello everyone! Have I told you how much I love your comments, likes, and reblogs? Seriously, you guys are awesome, you always make my day. Sooo as a thank you for that, I'm preparing a little something for you.

I'll let you know when it's ready but for now… we have another birthday story. It's M's turn.

You may choose to read Max or Megan's version. Enjoy!

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

"Ink" Max's version

A man rolling his eyes is the first thing Max sees when he enters the tattoo studio. It isn't the reaction he would have wanted but… Oh, well, beggars can't be choosers.

"If I have to get your asses out of trouble again I swear to God I'll-,."

"That's not why I'm here," the young man quickly interjects, and it seems to put at ease the man, at least a little bit.

"Well, I'll be damned. What brings you here now, boy?"

The owner is an old friend from his family. His name is Edward. And he is a tall, gruff man with broad shoulders and astute eyes that catch on details more quickly than the average person.

"Ya looking for Noah, Maxi?

Normally that would be the reason to visit the studio, Noah was one of Max's oldest friends. They'd known each other since kindergarten.

"Came to see you, actually."

"I'm flattered", or so he says.

Funny, how he sounds anything but. "What can I do for ya?"

That's a really good question. Max's been debating whether doing anything at this point would make any difference. Is asking for help even an option?

Either way, he came to get something, so that's what he's going to do.

"I want a tattoo", he answers.

Of course, this isn't the first time he asks for that.

And the exasperated expression that his response elicits from the man is to be expected too.

"Not this again. Look, kid, you're sevente-"

But this time is different.

"I turned eighteen last week", he interrupts Edward as he takes a little plastic rectangle from his leather wallet.

And hands it to the big man while declaring: "Here's my ID."

After inspecting the ID card and making sure this wasn't a fake one. Edward finally concedes defeat and gestures toward a comfortable black chair.

"So what's gonna be, a big bad wolf?"

He knows Ed is just teasing him, but he doesn't even crack a smile. He came here unsure about a lot of things. But to this, he knows the answer.

"September fifth."

Those words make the tattoo artist's eyes go wide. Of all the things he could have said, this is the last one he expected. Memories flood back to him as a turbulent wave.

That blasted day. A year ago. That was the day he knew. He lost his best friend. The man he used to play cards with, one who taught him how to talk to girls. His best man and moral support when they were deployed into that horrible place. They both made it back, luckily.

And after that, Edward was smart enough to get out. But his friend wasn't, he had some kind of hero complex. Fool.

Died in action they said. Saved some woman and her child. That's the kind of man he was. A stupid selfless bastard.

Yes, he lost his dear friend that day. But, this young man… he lost a father.

Jonathan Brown.

"Are you sure, boy?", he needs the confirmation. A tattoo is no joke, least of all, one that will remind him of his old man's death.

"On my wrist."

There's a trace of sadness in the eyes of the person in front of him, but he hears no hesitation in his voice.

"…Alright, kiddo."

When there's no response from the black-haired boy Edward lets one snarky comment slips, "Just try not to cry too much."

And a smile appears on Max's lips, relieving some of the seriousness of the moment.

Finally, Edward gets to work...

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

"Ink" Megan's version

When Megan enters the tattoo studio she sees a man she's accustomed to visiting on a regular basis. He's nice to her, most of the time. Sometimes he can be a little cranky, but she knows he means well.

"Oh, Meggy! how are you?"

"I'm fine, how is business going?", the young girl responds.

They always had a close relationship.

"Good enough. What brings you here now, girl?"

The owner is an old friend from his family. His name is Edward. And he is a tall, gruff man with broad shoulders and astute eyes that catch on details more quickly than the average person.

"Ya looking for Noah, Meggy?

Normally that would be the reason to visit the studio, Noah was one of Megan's oldest friends. They'd known each other since kindergarten.

"Came to see you, actually."

"I'm flattered", he says with a smile, "What can I do for ya?"

That's a really good question. Megan's been debating whether doing anything at this point would make any difference. Is asking for help even an option?

But she's already here. She's decided to do something today, so that's what she's going to do.

"I want a tattoo", she answers.

Of course, this isn't the first time she asks for that.

And the exasperated expression that her response elicits from the man is to be expected too.

"Not this again. Look, kid, you're sevente-"

But this time is different.

"I turned eighteen last week", she interrupts Edward as she takes a little plastic rectangle from her jeans' back pocket.

And hands it to the big man while declaring: "Here's my ID."

After inspecting the ID card and making sure this wasn't a fake one. Edward finally concedes defeat and gestures toward a comfortable black chair.

"So what's gonna be, a Unicorn?"

She knows Ed is just teasing her, but this time she doesn't even crack a smile. She came here unsure about a lot of things. But to this, Megan has the right answer.

"September fifth."

Those words make the tattoo artist's eyes go wide. Of all the things she could have said, this is the last one he expected.

Memories flood back to him as a turbulent wave.

That blasted day. A year ago. That was the day he knew. He lost his best friend. The man he used to play cards with, one who taught him how to talk to girls. His best man and moral support when they were deployed into that horrible place. They both made it back, luckily.

And after that, Edward was smart enough to get out. But his friend wasn't, he had some kind of hero complex. Fool.

Died in action they said. Saved some woman and her child. That's the kind of man he was. A stupid selfless bastard.

Yes, he lost his dear friend that day. But, this young woman… she lost a father.

Jonathan Brown.

"Are you sure, Meggy?", he needs the confirmation. A tattoo is no joke, least of all, one that will remind her of her dad's death.

"Yeah. On my wrist."

There's a trace of sadness in the eyes of the person in front of him, but he hears no hesitation in her voice.

"…Alright, kiddo."

When there's no response from the black-haired girl Edward lets one snarky comment slips, "Just try not to cry too much."

And a smile appears on Meg's lips, relieving some of the seriousness of the moment.

Finally, Edward gets to work...

[commaclear]

"Yeah, no can do, kid." the lady told him frankly.

Wilbur crossed his arms, tilting his head up to look down on her. Not that he needed to, of course. 

"And why not?" he asked, frowning. 

"I understand what you're going for, but I just don't really want to tattoo something you're going to regret."

Regret? This woman had no idea of who he was. And she didn't need to. She didn't need to assume things about him.

"I'm not going to regret it. I know what I want, and I'm a paying customer, am I not?"

"That's cute. How old are you, kid?"

"Old enough."

The tattoo artist raised both of her hands sarcastically, mouthing a 'haha'. 

"Very funny, did you bring in some sort of little permission slip saying that your mommy and daddy are allowing you to get a fucking tramp stamp?"

Wilbur scowled, hugging himself tigher. "I'm an adult." He muttered. 

"Yeah, yeah. You look like you turned 18 yesterday, at most."

The brunette shrugged, seeing as it was pretty much true. Though it had been a few months, not a day. "Can I just get my tattoo? Please?"

"I don't know how comfortable I am with giving you a tramp stamp."

"Because I might regret it? I know what I want."

"You think you know what you want. You're a dumb kid. It doesn't matter how book smart you are, or how street smart. Ultimately, you don't know what you're going to be feeling by the time you're my age. Tramp stamps are one of the most regretted tattoos, and the lower back is notorious for things best left in the past."

"Well, if I don't get the tattoo now, I guess I'll never know. It's not that much different from getting one when you're older. You still might regret it. Just because you're older doesn't mean you know what you want either."

"If you want to fight me on this so badly, just go to another tattoo artist."

Wilbur blinked prettily at her, "Oh, but I just love how you draw flowers. I don't think another tattoo artist would be able to do them just the way I want. I mean, you're literally the best tattoo artist for miles. Please just say yes." 

Though his voice dripped with dramatic praise, he meant every word. Her style was exactly right for what he wanted, and she seemed like she'd understand what he's trying to say with his choice. She also seemed like she'd be willing to figure out the best placement, both for the design and exactly how it'll look when it's on.

His eyes drifted to her wedding ring.

She hadn't seemed moved by his little praises, and he would hate to have to take more dramatic action. 

"Well, Thank you... for that. I'm still not sure I want to do it. I have a lot of passion for my art, and I would hate for it to get lasered off in a few decades. Or to be covered until then."

"It won't be covered, don't worry about that."

Before she could ask about whatever that meant, he gently grabbed her hand, pretending to just notice her ring.

"Oh- are you married?" he asked innocently.

She smiled for the first time in this interaction, Wilbur seeming to entirely disappear while she looked at her ring. Wilbur never understood how people just... got lost in things that represented their partners. It was just a ring. 

"Yeah," she finally responds, face soft. "We've been married for a few years."

"How sweet. How many?" Wilbur asked, feigning interest.

"Oh, just five. Our anniversary is soon, so very nearly six."

"Can you tell me about them?" 

"Well... I suppose. She's the sweetest woman alive. She actually runs the business next door, that's why you might see people coming in through that door."

Wilbur follows her line of sight to an unassuming door, one that presumably leads to the spa next door. 

"She loves painting nails. She lets her employees handle most of the manicures and pedicures, but she always insists on staying in the front to help with painting nails. Not even acrylics, just... regular nail polish. She's always enjoyed artsy things."

"Like you?" Wilbur laughs. 

She laughs as well, "Yeah, I suppose. I did her first tattoo, and she wanted to keep talking afterwards. She just had some kind of charm to her."

"Oh, wow..." Wilburs genuine smile faded slightly, though the woman was too busy thinking about her wife to notice. 

"Well, I guess I better leave. Don't want to waste anymore of your time, hm?"

The woman nodded. "Yeah, no. I'm still not giving you a tramp stamp. Sorry, kid. Maybe in ten years."

Wilbur laughed. 

He'd see about that. 

--

"God, you were fucking right! You do deserve a fucking tramp stamp, you fucking whore!" The tattoo artist wasn't happy with Wilbur's little... escapade. 

"I just wanted to know what it was like. Your wife loves you so strongly."

He can still hear the nail techs sobbing after he said that.

"Well, are you doing my tattoo now then?" He said smoothly, grinning sleazily at her. 

The pen in her hand nearly broke, but she took a deep breath in and out. Her expression changed to something pitying. Wilbur hated it.

"Fucking whatever."

He was pretty sure she double-charged him, and he wasn't sure if tattoos were supposed to hurt that much, but the tattoo was exactly what he wanted. 

Still, even as he walked out, he couldn't help but notice that she still had her pitying gaze. 

"I still think you'll regret it." He heard her mumble. 

Her ring had been gone, and he thought best not to ask about it. He knew what happened. 

He turned to look back at her, maybe even to say something teasing about her ex(?) wife. But the door was already shut tightly when he looked back. 

--

"So what made you get one?" he heard Quackity ask from behind him, fingers just barely tracing over the tattoo. 

"My boss, mostly."

"Oh, Wilbur... that's awful."

The way Quackity got sad at some of the things Wilbur said used to not make sense, but he's grown used to it over time. Sometimes, the things he got sad over still didn't make sense, but luckily this wasn't one of those things.

"It's whatever. Plus, I made sure I got one I wanted. It makes me feel more powerful than like a cheap whore usually. My only limit was that it had to look nice."

"Why does it make you feel powerful? What does it mean to you?"

Wilbur smiled at Quackitys genuine tone, he always had a way of coaxing things out of Wilbur. Wilbur made him step out of his comfort zone, and Quackity had him speak out of his. He never told anyone how much research went into his tramp stamp. People always thought it was some vaguely flowery, delicate, sexy thing. But it was really so much more. 

"I know it looks like it's just flowers, but look closely." If anyone could get anywhere close to the meaning just by looking at it, it was Quackity, at least in Wilbur's mind. 

"Is that barbed wire?? Dude, that's so fucking 90s."

Wilbur laughed, "Shut up! Think about the meaning. It means something."

"It's... sharp? And strong?" Quackity thought for another moment, "It's resilient?"

"Ding ding ding. I mean, all of those things really. Do you know what kind of flowers those are?"

"Uhhh... angelonia?" Quackity said, uncertain.

Wilbur shook his head, trying his best to look back at him without disturbing his view of his tramp stamp. 

"They're petunias. I don't even know what flower that is."

Quackity laughed, "Yeah, I don't know what petunias look like."

"Well get a good look at these, and then you'll know."

Quackity gently thwacked him in the arm, but resumed his tracing over the tramp stamp, with a little more weight than last time.

"What do they mean?" he heard the shorter ask. 

"Anger and resentment."

"Oh wow... I really wouldn't have expected that from such a pretty flower."

Quackity had no idea about the irony of his statement, and for now, just for now, Wilbur would like to keep it dramatic irony. 

"Most don't."

"Wait, then what about this? This isn't the same kind of plant, right?"

Wilbur flipped over to look Quackity in the eyes, smiling softly. "It's hemlock. It's poisonous. And beautiful, it is very beautiful."

For once in this interaction, Quackity met his gaze. "Is it meant to symbolize you?"

Wilbur propped his head up with his arm. "What do you think?"

Quackity blushed, looking away. "Maybe." Quackity looked back at him, "Would you ever want to get it removed?"

Wilbur hummed thoughtfully. "I don't know. It's from a pretty rough patch in my life, but I don't think I could just part with it. Maybe one day. I think it'll fade a lot on it's own by then, though." 

Quackity smiles at his answer, gently carding his fingers through Wilbur's hair. 

He used to not understand why he was so soft with Wilbur. He thought that he was looking down on him, somehow. Or maybe that Quackity thought he was weak or delicate for what he went through. 

He knows now, though, that it was just because he loved him.

-D (I got made fun of for my anon name by an irl because it's 'dumb' D: ITS JUST A LETTER?? So I'm taking name suggestions guys)

I know from when you sent this that you got it from my discord, and it's just been sitting in my inbox looking tasty for AGES until I could post chapter 16, so it wouldn't be a massive spoiler for everyone who didn't see that discussion

So I hope you know it has been TORTURE waiting to share this delicious piece of lowkey fucked up writing /lh

And have you considered that D could also stand for Dinosaur (the most common special interest for undiagnosed autistic children), Dynamite (like tntduo), Deoxyribonucleic (as in dna, the stuff life is made of), Delicious (like your writing), or Dun Dun DUNNN (the sound of drama)

[whereismymindnow]

Angel of My Dreams 2

Madelyn continued prattling on with Mike behind her as the makeup artist added touches of concealer to her face. The talk of how the song was perfect for tonight, how it would reach millions as they tuned into Vought TV.

“You do realise that the song isn’t exactly a love story, correct?” Harper interjected as Madelyn said how much Homelander had enjoyed listening to the song this morning. Apparently he had the last word of what would be performed tonight, but Harper knew that Miss Madelyn was the one that really pulled the reins.

“We don’t need a love story. We need drama.

“We need passion.

“We need fire. It’s perfect for Homelander, and with your voice, its gold dust.”

I know it’s a brilliant song, that’s why I wrote it. Harper bit her tongue and turned back to her reflection. This collaboration was already beginning to bore her. Vought had so many rules and regulations… quite frankly it was tedious. There were songs she could no longer sing and subjects that should be avoided. She was a grown woman that enjoyed singing about simple pleasures, but this would be too much for the religious groups that supported Vought so it was no longer an option.

It was humbling enough that she had to pretend that the little prick Mike was her boss, but now she had Vought to contend with… if she didn’t enjoy her ability to blend in the shadows and hunt as The Siren, then she’d reveal herself on camera and show them exactly who she was. Humanity was so dull.

A hurried knock echoed around the room and redhead poked her head around the door. “You’re on in 5, Harper.”

“Ah, you guys killed it as always!” Homelander clapped along with the audience, his signature toothy grin on show as he bowed to the cheers and praise. He fucking loved his birthday performance. It was all about him. The only name on everyone’s lips was his and all of the sycophants bowed down to him and threw money at Vought. What wasn’t to love?

“Now, I have a special someone here tonight that I’d like to introduce to you all. Her voice is world renowned and her talents are endless. It is my pleasure to welcome on to the stage, Harper!” He backed off, joining in with the applause, and stood back behind the curtains. His smile dropped and his glare pierced into the girl that stood in the darkness on the stage. This better be the performance of a lifetime.

A single light flickered on in the background to reveal Harper stood by herself, looking down at her feet that peaked out from under the dress. She wore a flowy white gown with makeup designed to look like glittering tears down her cheeks. Her gaze slowly rose to face the centre camera as she raised the microphone.  

Angel of my dreams I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair It's so bittersweet I will always want you and need you, you don't care You don't-

As she finished the first verse, some more dim lights turned on and followed her form. She almost looked ethereal as she stepped forward to the centre of the stage and held her hand to her chest.

Care that I'm mad, care that I'm sad It's so bad, it's funny Care if I cry, care if I die You only care about money (money) Sellin' my soul to a psycho They say I'm so lucky Better act like you're lucky, honey

Harper gave a sneer as she sang the last line. All of her thoughts going to Vought and the ridiculous management company that thought they controlled her. Oh, she’d show them who the lucky one was. They were all lucky that she let them continue to breathe in her presence.

But it feels nice In the spotlight When the camera flashy, I act so happy I'm in heaven when you're lookin' at me

She allowed a smile to grace her face as the music altered tempo and noted that people sat forward in their chairs. They were eager to have even an ounce of her attention and she adored it. She was a star, after all. The Siren was a performer of the arts and enjoyed nothing more than her audience showing her just how desperate and starving they all were. The whispers of the The Siren made her sound like she was the one that hungered, but she wasn’t. How could she be hungry when people gave themselves to her at every instant. They gave their awe, their focus, their dedication. Each droplet was carefully savoured by her.

Angel of my dreams I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair It's so bittersweet I will always want you and need you, you don't care Love when you call me a star You let me down in the dark Want you and need you, you don't care It's not fair

Homelander sucked in a breath as the emotion of the song gave her voice a more gravelly quality. She danced forward, arms moving with the music as she span around the stage. The minimal lighting of the performance added further atmosphere as the single female took the attention of everybody in front of her. He felt his heart pound as he absorbed every fibre of her being. His fists clenched as he fought the urge to pull her into his arms and taste every inch of her. He had been so close the other evening to acting out on his desires but he stopped himself. He was certain her eyes had been glowing when he hovered outside of her room. If Madelyn hadn’t been talking to him and he had been earlier, then he was certain he would have seen her true face. There was something about her. She wasn’t like the humans around her. Her body let out an energy and a scent that he hadn’t experienced before. It wasn’t human, that much he was certain, but he hadn’t managed to catch it yet. Was she a supe? He felt like she was, there was something chemical about her, but he needed more than a hunch. He needed evidence. He would get evidence.

Fair that I try, fair that I grind Fair that I buy you sushi Got you a car, got you a house Got you a suit, it's Gucci If I don't win, I'm in the bin You say you never knew me But when I pop off you sue me, so sue me

She winked into the camera, knowing that Mike was watching with Madelyn backstage. Let them watch. Let them see exactly who the fuck she was. She had more power than they realised, even when showing herself as just a little human. This was her show. This was her game. This was her meal.

But it feels nice (it feels nice) In the spotlight (in the spotlight) When the camera flashy, I act so happy

I’m in heaven

I’m in heaven I'm in heaven when you're lookin' at me

Harper felt her disgust bubbling within her veins as she belted out at the last words. Her anger and upset over her current treatment flowed through as she sang. She wasn’t some piece of furniture to bartered over. She was The fucking Siren. She ate people for a fucking living and made the rest fall in love with her. Fuck Homelander. Fuck Vought!

Angel of my dreams I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair It's so bittersweet I will always want you and need you, you don't care Love when you call me a star You let me down in the dark Want you and need you, you don't care It's not fair

Homelander felt his trunks tighten as the girl stormed across the stage and her voice echoed throughout the arena. She didn’t even need the microphone; her voice hit the eardrums of each and every person within the immediate area. The camera kept focused on her face, zooming in on her eyes as she completely let herself loose within the music. He saw the truth in her eyes. The anger, the hatred. The tears dropped down her face as part of the act but he could taste the salty liquid as though they poured down his own throat. He wanted to drink them like he was a man lost in the desert and they were his only water. He wanted to consume her fully.

Angel of my dreams I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair It's so bittersweet I will always want you and need you, you don't care

I'll always love you

Harper ended the performance on her knees with an arm outstretched to the camera that zoomed in on her face. She forced tears out of her eyes and exhaled a deep breath as the audience immediately stood and applauded her. Her face remained with the heartbroken expression for a few moments before she broke character and grinned. The energy around her sunk into her paws and she bit her lip as it sank into her pores and made her blood sing. Oh, how she longed to tear them apart with her teeth. Perhaps one day she’d have her moment to engorge herself, but for now, the energy that came off them would be enough.

[boricuacherry-blog]

Mandisa, the Christian music singer who competed on "American Idol" and then pursued a Grammy-winning career, has died. She was 47.

K-Love, a Christian radio station, first reported the news of Mandisa's death Friday morning. David Pierce, the station's chief media officer, praised Mandisa for her devotion to Jesus and God.

Ms. Hundley said in the video that despite the remark, she would still travel to Hollywood and face Mr. Cowell in the final judging.

Out of the Dark came out years after she released her first memoir, Idoleyes, in 2008.

In Out of the Dark, she wrote about her best friend dying of cancer and how she reconciled that and her relationship with God. "Kisha wasn't supposed to die," she wrote, "she was an overcomer. I prayed for her. I had faith. God didn't hold up His end of the bargain."

She also wrote about being raped at sixteen, and the confusion and shame she dealt with years afterward. She wrote, "That fall, when I had just turned sixteen, something terrible and transformative happened. My best friend's neighbor raped me. This boy was cute and funny, and even though I was overweight, he was interested in me. I enjoyed kissing him, but I certainly didn't want to have sex with him. As is the case for many young women, the rape wasn't a dramatic attack involving a weapon in a dark alley. He simply forced sex on me after I said no. The whole time it was happening, he kept telling me how beautiful I was. 'You're so pretty, you're so pretty,' he kept saying, but I kept saying no. After the rape, I felt so much shame. I felt like it was my fault and I was too ashamed to tell anyone what had happened. Feelings of guilt and insecurity washed over me. My food issues spun out of control."

But "God was choosing small things and moments to reveal Himself to me." When a friend gave her a Bible that year for her birthday, she had the ambitious plan to read it cover to cover. But that plan "fizzled somewhere around Leviticus." She wrote, "I didn't understand what I was reading, so I eventually set the Bible aside. Thankfully, though, God wasn't finished getting my attention."

She also revealed struggling to find where she fit in. "Growing up in the Sacramento Valley, I was literally a 'valley girl' and had the speaking voice to go with it. I was one of only a few Black students at my high school. As a freshman, I hung out with a rough crowd. Some of those kids looked like me and I longed to be accepted by them. But when they'd hear me talk, they'd say, 'You talk like a white girl.' Their negative judgments made me feel like I wasn't Black enough and needed to prove myself."

She continued, "But as I got older and studied the history of African-Americans, I not only gained a rich sense of my heritage, but I also realized that being Black is way more than talking a certain way, dressing a certain way, or listening to a certain kind of music. God was saying, 'This is how I made you. I gave you your 'valley girl' speaking voice. I gave you your wide vibrato and soulful singing voice. I gave you your skin color. I made you exactly how I wanted you to be.'

Though I still had a journey of self-acceptance ahead of me - such as making peace with my hair - for the first time in my life, I was truly proud to be a Black woman. Though at times in life I've wanted to be like someone else, I realize God designed us each unique, like a fingerprint, with specific good works only we can fulfill. You and I are a poem - an artistic work - created by God. Our details and quirks are not inconsequential. God has a purpose for each and every one - actions that help others and bring glory to the Father."

"Even in our darkest and lowest moments, God is in the trenches with us. He's always at work on our behalf, loving on us and carrying us up out of the dark," Mandisa wrote in an Instagram post celebrating her 2022 memoir. "He NEVER fails. I'm forever thankful that He keeps hope alive."

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Six // Wanda Maximoff

chapter five | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter seven

author’s note: i’m glad you all seemed to like the last chapter! i’m all for slow burn but i didn’t want to leave you hanging too long aha. Now onto dating territory!

Since going to Blackpool with Wanda, we hadn't actually gotten another moment to ourselves. Wedding plans were picking up which kept her busy, and if not that, then I'd only see her in passing in which we'd exchange smiles before moving on.

So, I though it would be good to take her out on a date. A proper one, even if it was to be disguised as a simple outing between soon-to-be sister-in-laws. The plan was to 'bump' into her in town, which we did, then I asked her if she wanted to go to the art gallery. She'd been before, but they'd put in a new exhibition which I thought she might like.

We couldn't exactly hold hands when there, but I made the most of her presence and stood a little too close to her than a friend might. Since she'd kissed me at the beach, I wasn't able to think about anything else. And when shot me a knowing smile, I knew she felt the same.

"I like this one," I told her, pointing to a piece hung on the wall, before squinting to read the plaque. "Jedburgh Abbey from the River by Thomas Girtin."

"And why's that?" she asked, watching me with humoured eyes.

I pursed my lips, glancing between her and the painting sheepishly. "I'm not gonna lie, I just like the way the guy painted the clouds in the sky."

She stifled laughter, not wanting to draw attention from passers-by, and nudged me in the shoulder. "You're unbelievable, milaya (darling). We didn't have to come here if you don't like art."

I gave her a knowing look. "Hey, I love art. Especially when it's by a certain Sokovian artist named Wanda Maximoff."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. I grinned at her bashfulness, wanting to tease her but also very true with my words. Her work was my favourite, biased or not, and I still had that amazing portrait she'd done of me in my room back home. It was tucked into one of my drawers where nobody would find it. I didn't want anyone else to look at it since she'd done it for me and it was private... it was a beautiful reminder of the amazing day we'd had.

"You're poking fun, but in all seriousness, I'd actually love for my work to be up here someday," she said softly, looking at the painting before us with hopeful eyes. 

"They wish they were that lucky to score someone as talented as you," I said without skipping a beat.

She cracked a smile, tilting her head in my direction. It was obvious she was losing her patience with me, but I enjoyed watching her lose it. She didn't know what to say, especially when being complimented, and it was endearing to witness.

We remained civil for the remainder of the 'date', refraining from holding hands or gazing at each other longer than friends would, and I was pretty proud of myself for not thinking about kissing her once when we were done.

As we got into the carriage to go back home, the door closed and I was going to ask her how she found it when she moved towards me in an instant, kissing me without question. I raised my hand, caressing her jaw and closing my eyes as she leaned forward, practically on my lap, not that I cared. She sucked on my bottom lip sensually before she opened her mouth, pushing her tongue into mine. I almost forgot how to breathe as she did, unprepared for such an intense kiss.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," she revealed when she pulled away.

I flushed at the contact, a dazed smile on my lips. "Huh."

She chuckled as she sat back beside me more 'appropriately'. "Thanks for taking me. I loved it."

I nodded lamely, still trying to recover from our kiss. "I'm– I'm glad."

She smirked playfully, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to my lips before sitting back. "You're so cute."

My words still hadn't returned, so all I could do was nod before looking the other way. Her laughter filled the carriage and I wondered how I'd gotten so lucky to be in the presence of someone so perfect.

After exchanging some more kisses and actually being able to hold hands without prying eyes, we reached Wanda's home and she invited me in for some tea. Sadly, that meant we had to let go of one another, but I think she'd given me enough to remember her by as we parted, and she must have thought the same, judging from the smirk she sent my way.

We sat on the patio outside to have some tea and biscuits, enjoying the sunshine and blue skies, a rare occurrence for England. We were chatting mindlessly when her brother decided to make an appearance, helping himself to a seat between Wanda and I.

"How lovely of you to grace us with your presence, Miss Y/L/N," he said playfully, shooting me a charming smile, before reaching to grab a biscuit. Wanda slapped his hand but he stole one anyway, making her roll her eyes.

"Nice to see you, Pietro," I greeted with amusement, always enjoying his presence.

"And you," he returned, before chowing down his biscuit.

Wanda gave me a fed up look over his shoulder which he was oblivious to, and I tried not to laugh as she clearly wasn't a fan of him interrupting our time.

"So, I caught a glimpse of the wedding invitations," Pietro said, making conversation. He glanced between us with a nod of approval. "They're coming along well."

I hummed in agreement, smile becoming less real when he mentioned the wedding. Wanda didn't acknowledge his words as she fiddled with the handle of her teacup.

"Is your brother behaving, Y/N?" Pietro continued jokingly, looking to me. "I know how many admirers he has, but my sister should be his first priority."

"Oh, Piet...," Wanda breathed out with embarrassment, facepalming.

"Of course he is," I assured her brother with a small smile. "He wouldn't dare try hurting Wanda or he'd have a lot of explaining to do."

There was some playfulness in my voice, but an underlying truth to my words.

"It's sweet how close you've gotten," Pietro noticed, looking between us, before settling his gaze on me. "It's about time Wanda made friends with people who aren't me."

Cue another slap. I chuckled at her sheepish expression, amused by Pietro's antics.

"Anyway," he changed the subject for his sister's sake, "mother has been getting on my very nerve about finding a bride because you decided to get married."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "We both know I didn't decide, Piet."

He sighed over-dramatically. "Well, it's because of your engagement that she's now on my back about it."

"Join the club," I joked, knowing exactly what he meant. "My mum was already on my back about finding a husband, but since this engagement, it's ten times more annoying."

Pietro laughed. "Oh, no. Has she lined up suitors? My parents like to point out every pretty woman they see to me in hopes I'll make a move. It's hardly productive."

"I haven't asked her for fear she'll pull out a folder with all of the eligible bachelors in town," I said, half joking and half serious.

Pietro snickered as Wanda rolled her eyes in the background. She should have been happy I was getting along with her brother. He was actually quite entertaining to be around.

"It's funny you say that because you're one of the women my parents pointed out," he admitted.

"Oh, God, so they're saying the same thing to you?" I asked with a groan, and he nodded regretfully. "Isn't it just the worst?"

"You're a lovely girl, Y/N, don't get me wrong," he began gently, "but I don't like you like that."

I raised my hand for a high five. "Me and you both."

Laughing once again, he returned my high five and I was glad we were on the same page. The amount of people that had been hinting at getting to know Wanda Maximoff's very single brother was getting pretty annoying. It was nice to know he was just as irritated at the insinuation as I was.

"Okay, I should leave you both to it," Pietro concluded, slapping his knees and standing up. Looking to me, he said, "Miss Y/L/N, it was as lovely as ever to make your acquaintance."

I smiled as he winked playfully before looking to his disgruntled sister.

"Dear sister, the pleasure is always mine," he continued to tease, and she slapped him once more, making him dodge her and begin to leave. "Love you, too!" he called before heading back inside.

I laughed at his silliness and relaxed in my seat, looking back to Wanda. She didn't seem half as amused as I was as she drummed her fingers on the table and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"I may be mistaken, love, but it looks like you're jealous," I poked fun at her.

She rolled her eyes and her jaw tensed before she finally looked to me, expression softening. "Can you blame me?" she asked quietly. "You're both single. You're both similar age. Everybody talks."

I shrugged nonchalantly, having a sip of my tea. "True... but I've got my eye on another Maximoff anyway."

She sighed, small smile creeping on her lips. Subtly moving my chair closer to hers, I grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed. My thumb stroked her hand softly as I leaned on the palm of my hand on the table.

"You look really beautiful today," I admitted in a hushed voice. "I should have told you earlier."

She, too, leaned into the palm of her hand as she watched me with an enchanting gaze. "So do you, milaya (darling)."

Unable to resist, I glanced around quickly before kissing her cheek and pulling away. Letting go of her hand, I busied myself with the tea and biscuits again.

"Biscuit?" I offered her, and she began to laugh at my attempt at acting casual.

Playing along, she accepted the biscuit from my hand. But a knowing smile was on her lips as she nodded. "Thank you."

—

Being with Wanda was a luxury in itself, even if we had to keep it private.

To everybody else, we were merely two women about to become family who happened to create a bond that was close. But we both knew what it really was and weren't eager to say it. Because saying it made it true and that meant that what we were doing became realer than it was in our daydreams and hidden moments.

I did find myself wracked with guilt sometimes – particularly the times when Y/B/N would gush about how excited he was to marry her. Wanda was technically cheating on him with me, his sister, but that fact was something that was still blurry to me.

We had no choice but to lie and be secretive. In a world like this, where we would never be able to be together like we wanted to, all we had was secrecy and deception. Did that still make us bad people?

I tried not to think about what would happen when she actually married my brother. The future was something I was adamant on pushing to the back of my mind because I knew what it would hold and I just wanted to enjoy the time I had with her. Convincing myself that what we had wasn't serious, just a heat of the moment relationship maybe, made things easier to accept. But really, I knew that whenever she looked my way with her signature smile and dazzling eyes, it was way more than I envisioned. She was way more.

So, trying not to be dragged down with the weight of reality, I vowed to myself to only focus on the now. Focus on the moments I shared with her whilst we could. Anything beyond that and I'd surely snap.

"Medovyy (honey), the Y/L/Ns are here!" Iryna called behind her, before looking to my family and I as we stood at her front door. "Please, all of you, come in!"

She ushered us into the main hall before closing the door after us. Perfectly timed, the rest of her family left the living room and came to greet us.

Automatically, my eyes found Wanda's and she was already looking my way, her dimple making a show as she attempted to reign in an excited smile. I did the same, trying to ignore the way my heart stirred upon seeing her.

Oleg and Iryna welcomed my parents and then me, kind expressions accompanying genuine greetings. In the corner of my eye, I saw Pietro shaking Y/B/N's hand before Wanda took his place, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Y/B/N. It wasn't jealousy that I felt whenever they were together, at least not entirely – they were to be married, what more could I expect? – but it wasn't anything pleasant either.

"Ah, my favourite Y/L/N," Pietro beamed upon shaking my hand, making my lips twitch upwards. "You excited for dinner? We're having salmon."

"Ecstatic, Pietro," I answered with a playful eye roll. "All I've been thinking all day."

He chuckled at my sarcasm before letting go of my hand and moving over to greet my parents. Wanda was next, her shoulders relaxing when she stepped before me with a soft smile present on her lips.

"It's good to see you," she said, but her eyes said much more than that. "How have you been?"

Exchanging a friendly-looking hug, my body was warm where she pressed against me. Touching her always sent a rush of emotion through me and I looked forward to it every time.

"I've been good," I answered aloud, before whispering into her ear, "Better now."

She squeezed my waist inconspicuously in response before letting go. "That's good. You know, we've got time before dinner and I wanted to show you the painting I've been working on lately. Wanna see?"

I glanced at my parents and hers for permission, knowing they'd heard her question.

"Just try not to take too long since dinner will be on the table soon," Iryna said with a nod. "It's so good to see you girls getting along."

Breathing out slightly, I smiled gratefully before letting Wanda intertwine our fingers and drag me up the staircase. She led me past several doors before we finally reached hers and she tugged me inside.

As soon as the door closed, she was quick to connect our lips in a heated, desperate kiss. I relaxed against her instantly, my hands falling to her side and pulling her closer. Her fingernails gently scratched the sensitive skin behind my neck, giving me goosebumps, and I let out an involuntary gasp at the feeling.

When we pulled away for a breath, her nose brushed against mine and she pressed a final kiss to my lips, slower and more tasteful compared to the first, before smiling at me.

"I missed you," she said, as if reading my mind.

A breathy laugh escaped my lips. "It's only been a week since we last saw each other, love."

She shrugged, arms laced around my neck. "A week too long."

Raising a brow judgementally, I gave her a knowing look. She wasn't embarrassed in the slightest as her half-lidded eyes met mine with a confident smirk.

"Did you just pull me up here to have a quick snog?" I teased her.

"Well, yes," she said, making me laugh again, before adding, "And I wanted to ask you if you'll go to the park with me tomorrow. A picnic. If you want."

She bit her lip anxiously, eyes darting elsewhere as she waited for an answer. I always found it amusing how she could be so confident one second and then so innocently adorable the next.

"Wanda, I'd love to." My thumb rubbed circles on her waist as I kept ahold of her. "I hear it's supposed to be nice weather tomorrow, too."

She pursed her lips. "Even if it rained, I'd still drag you to the park with me."

"Somehow, I feel like that's true," I countered with a ghost of a smile on my lips. She tried to hide her own smile and I continued, "Was there an actual painting you wanted to show me or...?"

Breathing out with amusement, she intertwined our fingers and pulled me to the back of her room where her 'studio' was. Since the last time I'd visited, there were plenty of new additions to her work, all as wonderful as the next.

"This one is from the beach at Blackpool," she said, stopping before a medium-sized canvas depicting the horizon. "When we sat on the bench. Just before I kissed you."

My heart fluttered at the memory and I studied the canvas, recalling it looked similar to her watercolour painting of the same view. She'd done a spectacular replica in oil paints, reminiscent of the trip we took.

"You should already know what I'm going to say," I said, looking to her knowingly. "But just so you can hear it again, I absolutely love this. You're so talented."

She rolled her eyes to distract from the pink spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you... and again, thank you for taking me. Seeing an actual water source upfront really helped me refine my paintings. It feels so much more real now."

I looked back to the painting, noticing what she meant. Either way, I loved both versions of her work, before and after going to the beach.

"You did good, love."

She squeezed my hand gently before sighing quietly with realisation. "We should probably go back down."

"We should," I agreed, glancing at her. "Thanks for showing me these."

She cracked a smile, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. "Always."

Reluctantly, the two of us returned downstairs and joined the others as they were settling at the dining table. Wanda and I sat side by side, and this time when her fingers brushed mine, I made no move to pull away.

The meal was good, but as usual, I found myself zoning out. The conversation made its rounds, falling to me as the Maximoffs wanted to know how I was doing, then moved on, giving me chance to focus on eating my dinner and getting through the evening. I knew that at one point, everybody was talking about some play that was showing in the theatres.

Bits of the conversation were going in one ear and out the other and I was minding my own business until Wanda's bare foot rubbed against my leg under the table. The sensation of her skin against mine made my knee bounce up and hit the table with surprise, earning everyone's attention.

"Are you okay, dear?" Oleg asked, noticing my discomfort.

I cleared my throat, straightening up and ignoring the stifled smile Wanda had in my peripheral vision.

"I'm good, sorry about that," I apologised awkwardly, shivering when she dragged her foot back down my leg. "You were talking about the play, right?"

That seemed to distract them, as they leapt right back into conversation, giving me a chance to breathe out with relief. I looked to Wanda, watching her lean on her palm and hide a smirk as she stared at me with mischievous eyes.

Glaring and nudging her in the arm subtly, I looked back to my food, but she didn't move her foot, nor her hand. Both brushed my against me, starting a fire on my skin and making me swallow hard. She kept like that for the whole evening, making my head dizzy and leaving me at a loss for words.

And when I looked her way, she was already staring, definitely knowing the effect she had on me.

—

"I just need to find my shoes and we can go," I told Wanda the next morning, before our date at the park.

She'd come to pick me up at my house and was hanging around my room as I finished getting ready. From her place at my desk, she hummed in acknowledgment before distracting herself with my notebooks.

"I see you're making great use of the notebook I picked out for you," she commented, and I glanced towards her mid-search for my shoes, seeing she was flicking through the already-filled book.

"I have a lot of ideas, what can I say?" I joked, before looking under the pile of clothes near my wardrobe.

She chuckled, before falling quiet again. I wasn't really paying attention to what she was doing until she spoke up after a few minutes.

"Y/N, your writing is beautiful," she said, making me look her way to see an amazed smile on her lips. "I didn't know you could write like this. I mean– I should have because you helped write that letter Y/B/N gave to me, but this..."

I shrugged awkwardly, distracting myself with my search again. "It's okay, I guess."

She exhaled mockingly. "Okay? Y/N, this is miles better than okay. Why didn't you show me this sooner?"

I smiled satisfactorily as I finally located my shoes. Grabbing them, I approached Wanda and took a seat on the edge of my bed, opposite her seat at my desk.

"Because it'll never be anything more than what you're looking at?" I said rhetorically. "It'll only ever be words confined to pages that nobody will see?"

She gave me a knowing look. "I think you forget that my brother is a publisher, dorogoy (dear)."

"And I think you forget that he is the publisher to my brother, dear," I retorted playfully.

She sighed, shaking her head and putting the notebook back on my desk. "You know Pietro would love this, right? He'd sign you in a heartbeat."

I snickered at the ludicrous thought. "Wanda, you're a little biased, love."

She rolled her eyes. "Writers write for audiences. I am an audience. I consume literature. And I'm telling you that it's not just me who would read what you have to write."

I tried not to laugh as I pulled my shoes onto my feet.

"Are you really telling me that you'd never want to get published?" she asked with a raised brow.

My heart ached at the thought of such a fantasy. "Of course I would, Wanda." I met her eyes, which were already peering across from me patiently. "I've dreamed of that. But it's just not what's to happen. My family have told me that many times. In another lifetime, maybe."

She pursed her lips, studying me thoughtfully. I offered her a smile and stood up, holding out my hand.

"Forget that," I told her. "I believe you promised me a picnic."

Thankfully, she dropped the subject and accepted my hand, letting me pull her up. The topic wasn't brought up again and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

We went to the park like she wanted and she brought a picnic basket with her, having packed a lovely variety of finger foods and snacks.

As she was unpacking the food onto the blanket, I narrowed my eyes at her. "You know, now that we're finally alone, I can say how unfair it was of you to do what you did last night."

She played dumb, shrugging, focusing on neatening up the sandwiches on a plate. "I don't know what you mean, milaya (darling)."

"Huh. Sure you don't."

Giggles flew from her lips as she glanced at me through her eyelashes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I just love seeing you squirm. You get all tense and it's so cute."

I pursed my lips. "I figured. You've been watching me squirm since we met."

She grinned knowingly before straightening up. "Okay, I made sandwiches and there's also some coleslaw, fruit, cheese... I made some Sokovian dishes, too, if you want to try them. Okroshka – it's like a cold soup. Then there's this olivye salad. It's... well, salad."

I smiled at the thought she put into it all and grabbed her hand between us. We'd set the picnic out behind a tree so we wouldn't have curious eyes watching us. It didn't look like we were overtly hiding, but we still got our privacy, too.

"It all looks great, Wanda," I said with appreciation. "I can't wait to try it."

She squeezed my hand in response before letting go to grab some paper plates. After popping a strawberry in her mouth, she asked, "Do you just want a bit of everything?"

I leaned on the back of my hands as I hummed a 'yes'. She began to put me some food in and I watched her, admiring the sight.

Her hair was half-pulled back today, falling in waves down her back and exposing her perfectly sculpted jawline. Everything about her was perfect – the way she moved was elegant and graceful, even when her hair fell over her shoulder and in her way; she simply moved it back with a flick of her hand and resumed what she was doing. The sun caught her immaculately, her hair glowing bright under the light and her eyes magnificently green as they focused.

As always, she took my breath away.

"Here," she said, holding out the plate towards me and pulling me from my reverie.

I accepted the plate and fork, returning her smile, before she watching as she began to make another plate for herself.

"You sure this is fancy enough for you?" I asked jokingly, stabbing my fork into a carrot. "I heard you and my brother went to a very luxurious restaurant the other night."

She met my eyes, holding amusement in her own. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya (darling)."

I kissed my teeth and rolled my eyes. "I'm not jealous, I just– it's so annoying listening to him talk about how beautiful you are or how funny you are or how kind you are."

"Oh, so you don't think I'm any of those things?" she teased, trying to get a rise out of me.

I titled my head towards her. "Of course I know you're all those things. But it doesn't mean I like hearing him talk about it constantly..."

Clearly amused, she erupted into laughter and I felt my face heating up with embarrassment. I know it sounded like I was whining, but it was true. Sometimes, I wasn't envious of my brother but rather at the fact that he could actually take Wanda out properly. He could be seen with her in public and hold her hand without fear of getting looks or disowned. He had the privilege of being with her and it wasn't fair.

"You may hear him talk about it, but there's one thing I can assure you that you get that he doesn't," she said when recovering from her laughter.

I stared at her with an exasperated sigh. "And what's that?"

She smiled confidently, glancing around quickly, before leaning forward and kissing me softly. As quickly as it came, it disappeared, leaving me desiring more.

Licking my lips, I couldn't tear my eyes from hers. "You know, you're a really good kisser."

She chuckled at my reaction and I found myself leaning in again, entranced by the way she tasted. Putting my plate to the side, I raised a hand to pull her closer, getting better access to her mouth.

She tasted sweet like the strawberry she'd just eaten and I swiped my tongue across her lip, indicating I wanted her to part her them. She did, allowing me to slip my tongue in and wrestle with hers, revelling in the way she tasted. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest as she let out a moan, it reverberating in my mouth and giving me goosebumps.

When lack of oxygen became an issue, she pulled away breathlessly, flushed cheeks adorned with a smile.

"As lovely as that was, I actually want to eat what I made," she ridiculed playfully.

"Yes, we will," I assured her, my hand moving from her neck up to her jaw. My thumb touched her lips, outlining them tenderly, subconsciously committing them to memory. "We'll get back to it."

She wanted to laugh, but I moved forward and caught her bottom lip between mine, unable to stay away. It was wrong, the rush I felt in my gut and the warmth that spread all over my body and the tingles that travelled down my spine. Because I knew what it all meant, but admitting it was a different story. So, I didn't.

I just continued to kiss the girl before me, knowing I could have kissed her forever and not regretted a single thing.

[ariadnasdiary]

30 Questions of CP, OC & Fandom★

Mun Ari: I was tagged by @kindan-no-kanojo and @mino-diabolik thank you!! (Credit to @mukami-kuron-mrsadisticcat)

1. How long have you been in this fandom?

I think around 2015-2016(?. 2015 is when I found DL anime, but it was until months later that I got interested with the decond seasom. I started here in tumblr in 2016 and until 2017 I stsrted my OC blog. So… 6-7 years? Oh my…that much? 😳

2. Who's your fictional boyfriend/husband?

Kino my love <3. Since he made his appearance in 2017 and I read his route… puff! I'm in love~ lol. Up until now he has remind as my #1 husbando <3

3. Why do you like them?

For many reasons: we share some things from our past, so I can relate to him for that reason. Also, he's so funny (I love his sense of humor lol), how intelligent and witty he is (I love his role as the villain jijij), how childish and spoiled he can act, we share some hobbies and of course his appeareance and voice makes me weak! Also he's a cutie when he wants, I can't >////<

4. Have you make acquaintance with anyone that ships themselves with the same character?

Hell yeah! @mino-diabolik @kindan-no-kanojo and @eli-loversblog we are all happy members of Kino's harem jijijij

5. How do you feel about it?

Happy and proud. Kino is such a misunderstood character and therefore his fan base is so tiny!! So whenever I find someone that loves Kino AND has an OC with him is like another tiny victory!!

6. Do you feel any negativity towards them?

No? So far I've encounter very few Kino fans, but none has been toxic or something similar 🤷🏻‍♀️.

7. Do you like seeing their oc(s) interact with your man/woman?

As interact with Kino? Or with my OC? Or with both? The answer to all three is: absolutely yes! Kino deserves so much love and every new fan is great news! With Ari makes me feel super super happy for her to be loved and noticed! And with both as a couple makes my heart go 💗💗💗

8. Do you feel competitive against them?

I must admit that when I started I felt a little jealous with some (that are not longer active as far as I know) since they had more support and had the plus to be great artists so bring their ship's dream to reality.

Of course I got over it super fast and I focused on my own personal growth and so far I'm extremely happy to see more people liking and shipping Kino with their OCs!!

9. Confident, or pessimistic?

Eh? About what? My ship? If it's so then... neutral? I mean there were better times for the DL OC community, but understand that times changes and I'm busy with real life responsibilities, so I can't dedicate the time I use to give this blog. Of course is natural people left, others came and I stayed and to pass unnoticed is due to my lack of activity/interactions and such.

So is a 50/50. There are good days and bad ones.

10. Would you like more to get to know about your ship, or would you rather it being lowkey?

Honestly? I miss the old days and I wish I could be more active. But there are so much new people and my some friends are now gone... that I feel anxious. I'm super shy when it comes to socialize and interact with new people + my reduced time online... that is very hard for me. So, I would love to interact more, but I'm shy >/////<

11. Do you follow any of those people (them whom ship themselves with your fictional lover)

Of course! I try to send them asks from time to time and I always check them out whenever I enter here!

12. Are you friends with them?

I'd like to think that ;u; (I have interacted with their Muns and I talk to some more than others jejeje)

13. What do you think about the 'stans' ?

Good question... I'm not sure I know what it means 100%. I deduce you mean those who 'stan' a character as their fans(?.

I think everything in measure and balance is totally OK. You can ship yourself or an OC with them and be creative or have fun! HOWEVER! If your love becomes and obsession and it starts hurting or bothering others... then we have a problem. Is an issue when people believes they 'own' the character or are passive-aggressive with other fans. Excuses as 'I love them more than you do!' Or 'I'm the only one to understand them!' Or 'I'm their only and true girlfriend' is like: Get yourself a therapy~ you're desillusional 🤦🏻‍♀️

14. Are you worried about plagiarism or copying of your oc(s) by others?

There is always that risk. It does annoys me since is a work/creation I made myself and it took me time, work and even money to create.

It did happened to me not long ago that a person took a commission I payed and edited it to put her OC. She made a TERRIBLE work editing it (you know with paint or even Instagram colors), but fortunately she "vanished".

I'm low-key afraid some might steal any of my fanfics and post them as theirs in other platforms though... but I'm not that relevant or famous to worry about that lol. And I haven't made any commissions lately and I haven't seen my commissions around or edited so... I guess I'm fine?

15. How do you handle such a situation if it happens?

A friend was who told me about it and we both worked together to solve it (she was also a victim of that girl as she stole her OC almost everything [appearance, name, ship...] and in my case my commission). As I know what it feels like I try to tell the corresponding authors of the original piece if they are being victims of stealing so we can all work together to solve it.

16. Is your cp public or only between a particular circle of friends?

I'll assume my blog/ship. The answer is public: at this point many know my blog and OC lol.

17. Do you lock a specific cp ship, whats the reason? (I dare you to tag them~!)

Nop. So far I haven't block anyone.

18. What kind of behaviors do you suppose is pretentious to you?

If I understand correectly this question.... I think you mean attitudes that I don't like in fans?

I'll answer as such: I don't like when people thinks they can own a character or many just because they have theirs ocs paired with them. If they are all bark no bite, then you can just ignore them... but if they are those people that actually harass others that pisses me off. I don't get involve in online confrontations (cause' is pathetic really), unless they are attacking friends of mine in a very mean way. I'm ready to thows hands!

ALSO the thieves or tracers also annoys me, becuase their arguments and actions are stupid. 'I found them online! So I shared it!', 'I'm doing them a favor by posting it in my profile!' or 'Who are you to tell me what to do? I post what I want!'. UGH! HATE THEM! If you don't know how to draw: DON'T POST OTHER'S WORK!

Overall, I just find annoying those people that are immature or mean in general so I just avoid them.

19. What kind of comments do you dislike the most when it comes cp feedbacks of your oc(s)?

I haven't encounter any of the sort directed to me specifically? But I've seen what haters are willing to do.

I hate when they simply critize the OC in question with their stupid opinions like: 'I don't like your OC because is not pretty', 'she's ugly', 'she's a Marie Sue', 'she's a cheap copy of *insert character*', 'you need to improve your skills', or the best one 'I don't like your OC, stop shring her!' etc. Like: SHUT UP! NO ONE ASKED YOU. IF YOU DON'T LIKE A SHIP SIMPLY UNFOLLOW OR BLOCK. NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR DAMN OPINION.

20. Have you receive hates about your oc(s) before?

nop, thankfully. But if I encounter one, I'll simply block them~

21. Do you have a complete love story of your cp? 

yep! Well... the official route is still incomplete lol. I'm missing some endings, but I haven't come up with something .-.

BUT I have created so many AUs that is impressive how many lives they have lived and fallen in love with :'D

22.  Do you allow joint of alternate universe with the canon version of your cp story?

I just said it: AUs rock! I love them! ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES TO EXPLORE AND ENJOY FOR YOUR SHIP!!

Seriously, every idea has so much potential! that's why I have written so many~!

Don't hesitate to add Ari to any of your AUs!!!

23. Are you okay with people shipping their oc(s) with yours?

Sure! Sometims it's me who begs my Ari to be ship with others ocs [Mystic I'm looking at you!], but I haven't had luck(?

24. Ever gone through a bad experience in the fandom?

Not really(? Unless I have already forgotten or never noticed(?

25. The ocs that you admire in this fandom are? (Tag them~)

@kindan-no-kanojo (have you seen Scarlett? She's an icon! Her character is 100/10!)

@mino-diabolik (she has endure and survive the pass of time and Mystic is loved by many! #goals)

@violet-sin (she's not longer in the fandom nor tumblr, but all her OCs are magnificent!! Also, I was witness of her artists skills improvement and now I love her style!!)

@vixen-ocs (not longer in DL, but her self-insert was super pretty! I loved her!)

@eli-loversblog (she wasn't around for very long, but I liked her OC. I wished we could have interacted more ;-;)

@the-sloth-woman (she took the inicial idea [DL verse] and created an impire of her own... that's some mad skills. Also her writting talent is amazing!)

@invampirehellorheaven (not sure if she's still around [in this blog and her OC I mean], but she was an interesting character to interact with :D)

@lets-bewitched (she's more active on Instagram and we are good friends! I like Seina a hell lot!)

@lunaangel1010universe (Amina is lovely! Plus all her art pieces are amazing! I love how her story has development and even the many AU she already has!)

26. What is the moment that caused you to feel most disappointed or excited?

Excited? When the fandom was more active and many ocs interacted with each other! It was so much fun!

Sad? When all this stopped :'(

27. The scariest era that you have come across in the fandom?

The OCs war. The trinity of caos that existed in the fandom and all the people they scared due to this >:'v

28. The most wonderful thing you have come across in this fandom?

My friends that support me in all my blogs:

@sugar-lollipop @the-sloth-woman @kindan-no-kanojo @mino-diabolik @lunaangel1010universe @lets-bewitched and more <3

29. Say something towards those that support and admire your cp~

THANK YOU. YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME. YOU INSPIRE ME TO KEEP CREATING AND DO WHAT I LOVE!! I ADORE YOU ALL SINCE YOU ARE ALSO GOOD FRIENDS OUTSIDE TUMBLR!!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH YOUR SUPPORT MEANS TO ME. IF MY DAY WAS A 25 OR A 50 YOU MAKE IT A 100!! THANK YOU!!!

30. You've worked hard, keep up the good work! ★★★

[innerlandslide]

even though she is trying to deliver her best attempt at being a respectful (and not weird at all) fan, hannah can't help but think to herself: barbara ann robinson is on my balcony, we just had dinner together, and now she is spilling her guts to me like we do this every day. barbara is sharing an actual piece of history with her, how could hannah not be astonished? the mention of brooke wellington is almost enough to get a physical reaction from her, but she keeps it under control, solemnly nodding as she sips her wine. maybe it's time for a glass of water.

    hannah: no. ( she smiles, looking over the window to make sure sarah is nowhere to be seen. not that her sister would care, but it felt funny to say it when she had a fresh baby at home, even if it wasn't hers. ) i'm too selfish to be a mother, i think. like to think about and of myself way too much. everyone always said that. ( she stares down her hands for a moment. they were not wrong, and hannah learned early that she'd be happier if she didn't listen to them, but still. ) i thought becoming a mother would prove my value too. see, i'm still a bitter bitch, but i have a baby now.

    barbara: i don’t think you are so selfish if you know you shouldn’t have a baby.

    hannah: yeah, but you'd think it's okay by looking at these monterey moms.

in the end, hannah is a monterey girl through and through: she loves the gossip, never passes up a good opportunity for a snarky comment. she knew that barbara had been spending most of her time with the fergusons, and as a woman in grief, there was a good chance she had been staying away from anything too indelicate.

she thinks back to madeline mackenzie, local pot-stirrer. hannah and madeline had a polite relationship: este liked hannah, maddie couldn't gossip about her; este liked maddie, hannah tolerated maddie whenever she was around, and that included chuckling politely as madeline talked about her brief affair with jim robinson the other night. truth or lies, hannah just hoped barbara hadn't heard anything about it.

    barbara: the city was all different when i bought the house, you know. many families, like yours, but lots of artists too. everyone wanted to move to california back then, and here we had the jazz festival, monterey pop had happened here... ( she seems to be drifting away, lost in a memory. hannah's family had been there since at least her grandfather's time, a military man who raised a professor, hannah's father, who then raised hannah, a literary editor. her father used to host some of those artists at their house, to the dismay of her mother, a snobby secretary-turned-housewive. ) california was different from texas, obviously. me and jim got into debt to live in that ranch, so i wasn't going to sell it, but i needed the fresh air. the sound of dreams is inspired by here. the waves... and i thought i was going to raise a child here.

    hannah: writing dreams is a more important contribution to the world than raising any child. ( both of them laugh, surprised at hannah’s words. enough with the wine. ) but really, mrs. robinson, and i can’t call you to your face anything else, don’t even try, ( she shushes barbara before she can be shushed. later she would regret shushing such an icon, but they were getting along, ) i love dreams. sarah loves dreams. rose loves dreams. everybody loves dreams. there’s a street in this city with your name. people can’t see anyone using a pretty long dress without thinking of you. there’s at least ten more hits under your name and voice. you have enjoyed your life more than most people can say, and i know it hasn’t all be so easy… but a child is nothing compared to that. people talk what they talk, we think what we think.

    barbara: shouldn’t i be the one telling you this? ( for a moment hannah is sure that she is going to get scolded, but barbara seems to take it lightly, rocking on the chair while talking, ) that i know well, just… i’m a woman from a different time. i wanted to do it all. being a lover and a rockstar and a good wife and maybe a mother. easier said than done. easier felt than explained.

    hannah: you are right. ( they both fall silent. barbara seems to be thinking about something, hannah is just wallowing in her shame, thinking of something to say. ) not that i’d know much, i’m sorry. i’ve never been able to… like many people, i guess. so i did my best to push them away. never gave anybody much space in my life. i’m not kidding when i say i’m selfish.

barbara laughs. not because hannah had said something funny, just because. that was a question people hardly asked her, though she could see it on the tip of their tongues, the desire to know about something so intimate, so private. that's what happens when you get famous. she is used to it, and since the conversation is about this type of thing, she can't get mad, even if she wanted to.

she is having a fun night. the mccartneys have a nice house, and sarah was proud to guide her through it as she held her daughter on the hip, arm in arm with barbara. she helped with dinner and played with rose, chatting with sarah about her job as event planner and how monterey had been treating her. sarah and her way to come up with things to say is enough to entertain barbara, topics varying from their chilhoods (both had been outdoorsy kids) to their favorite singers (sarah liked carly simon and, of course, midnight mayhems, barbara liked joni mitchell).

they are talking about which song should they play when hannah finally comes home; the sister who moved out of monterey as soon as she could, the sister who loved contemplations and ramblings.

    sarah: i know coming back wasn't an easy feat for her, ( sarah said as barbara cut some broccoli, ) but i'm glad she did it. and i think it did her some good. she is out with her girlfriend but she will come home any soon.

though stunned by the visitor, hannah is as nice as her sister, though not so chatty. one thing leads to another, barbara calls her stepdaughter to tell her where she is and to not be worried, because she will be staying at the mccartney for longer.

    barbara: no. i never did. ( it's the truth. memory can be tricky and so many things happened before that and since then that barbara could feel confused about it, but it's the truth. as terrible as she felt about everything else, she remembers the relief that washed over when a nurse with a strong austrian accent told her the procedure went well. ) that was no time for having a baby. maybe i was never meant to be a mother, though i would have tried my best at it. i think... when i came back home, after a few months, i regretted it, actually. i thought that, if i couldn't be a rockstar, i had to be a mother. i wanted to prove my value or, i don't know, have something to do. which is awful, but it's the truth.

it took her years to talk about it with jim. the first time they discussed the abortion openly was during a fight. he had just told her he had impregnated another woman and was leaving, she told him he was finally punishing her for the abortion. years later, when they reconciled, he held her hands as he said i didn't care about no fucking baby. i cared about you. you were ready to end it all.

sometimes they talked about the baby they could have had. it would be a full adult by now, older than jim's kids. would their child like to play music? would they have a texan accent? it was a game, one they liked to play when one of his kids did something remarkable. caroline, the oldest one, the one who looked a bit too much like barbara, had graduated a year earlier than the expect; isabelle, short like her mother, had pierced her tongue at 15; jimmy, the one who jim wouldn't see turning over eight, had recently learned how to tie his shoes. would their child do something like that? they would never know, and they were mostly fine with that.

    barbara: i didn't leave everything just because i was pregnant. that was the least of my worries. she- brooke, brooke, probably didn't understand that. ( she is about to add something, but falls silent, as she always does now when she talks about brooke with someone who didn't know her. ) you wish you had had your baby?