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wafflefries13 · 7 months ago

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Go For It, Jamil!

Summary: Scarabia hears their Vice-House Warden has a crush and are a little too enthusiastic to help out.

AN: I really like the idea that the dorm mob loves their wardens and vice wardens. It makes me think of the tsum event where all of Savanaclaw was in tears because they thought Leona got turned into a little burrito plush, lol.

I got Omar and Babkak from the Aladdin Broadway musical. There's also a Kassim there but I thought it sounded too close to Kalim so just kept it to the two of them.

Warnings: Pining. Apparently I'm really into that. AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

Spring had come to Night Raven College. With the blossoming trees, chirping birds, and returning sunshine, one thing everyone could count on was Kalim’s annual Welcome Spring party. Of course, he also had a Welcome Autumn, Welcome Winter, Welcome Summer, Farewell End-of-School-Year, Beginning of School, Halloween, New Year's Eve and Day, basically anything party. The difference here was that there were generally more flowers.

“And we can have the cherry blossom trees around the entrance of the courtyard!” Kalim was saying. Jamil dutifully followed behind him by a few steps, taking down notes for the numerous things they would need to order. “That way when the wind blows the petals will swirl everywhere and it will be super pretty!”

“MmHmm,” Jamil muttered, only halfway paying attention.

“And I was thinking the food should be fruit-themed. Blueberries, strawberries, plums, apricots, rhubarb - is rhubarb a fruit? It’s sweet but it’s like celery, right? Cause it grows in the ground in a stalk?”

“It’s a vegetable.”

“Oh, and pastels! I can get bolts of silk and we can have them hanging from the ceiling in panels and string beads between everything.”

“Sure.”

“And it’ll be the perfect backdrop when you confess to (Y/N)!”

Jamil nearly tripped over his own feet. Both of them froze at the sound of a shattering pot. Looking up, Jamil felt dread build in his stomach as a wide-eyed first-year stared at the two of them, obviously having overheard Kalim’s (obviously totally ridiculous) announcement. There was a broken flower pot at his feet.

“I-Uh-” The first-year stuttered. “Sorry, I’ll get a broom.” He dashed off like his feet were on fire.

Jamil sighed. The last thing he needed right now were rumors swirling around. “Kalim, what are you talking about?”

Kalim blinked at the retreating student before looking back at Jamil with a beaming smile. “(Y/N)! It’ll all be super romantic, right? And spring’s a time for new beginnings. We’ll have a string quartet and I’ll set up a gazebo with hanging lanterns and you can take her hands and look her in the eyes and say-”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Jamil quickly said, clapping a hand over Kalim’s mouth before another eavesdropper got the wrong idea. “You have way to clear an image of all this.”

“Of course! I think it’ll make a great story for your wedding!”

Jamil heard a gasp. He turned just in time to see the first-year from before ducking behind the corner with another in tow.

Yup. There was the headache coming.

“Kalim,” Jamil said, measuring his words as steadily as he could. “I’m not going to confess anything to (Y/N).”

Kalim pouted. “Aww, why not?”

“Because I don’t have feelings for her.”

“What? Of course you do!”

“I promise I don’t.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll definitely say yes.”

“That’s not the problem here.” Jamil sighed. “Look, I get that you have good intentions, but you don’t need to go overboard and be involved in everything. We talked about this, remember? The whole thing about boundaries?” Actually, (Y/N) had mediated that conversation a few days after Jamil’s Overblot. Is that why Kalim had become convinced they had some sort of romantic attraction? Because talking about feelings must lead to the extreme of those feelings?

Kalim looked chastened, a certain wet puppy dog look that would make most people fold instantly. Jamil was not most people. “Right, I remember. I just…” Jamil waited for Kalim to continue, silently hoping he would just drop it. “I want you to be happy, you know? And I think you’d be really happy with (Y/N)!”

Jamil looked at Kalim sideways. “It’s more of a two way street, you know.”

“Well, yeah, but (Y/N) likes you too!”

Jamil tripped over his own feet again. He felt a strange kind of dread at the way his heart skipped a beat as a warm feeling flooded his chest.

“She-what-Where did you hear that?”

Kalim shrugged, smiling coyly. “I can tell. Just like how I can tell you like her.”

“I don’t,” Jamil said firmly.

Kalim held up his hands in surrender. “I hear you! Boundaries! I won’t mention it again.” He added under his breath, “Even if I think you two would be really cute together.”

“I heard that.”

Behind them, hidden in the long shadows of the Scarabia hallways, a cluster of students were beginning to plot.

The next day, Jamil was taking some time to relax between classes. Well, as much as he could relax. Mostly his thoughts were occupied jumping between organizing for the Welcome Spring party, creating a mental schedule of what school projects were do when, planning what he would make Kalim for lunch for the next week-

“Jamil!”

He turned to see (Y/N) waving at him. He felt his heart start thumping rapidly in his chest. Stop it, He thought. I can’t let Kalim get in my head like that.

“Hi,” She said, coming up to him.

“Did you need something?”

“Not really. Just saw you over here stuck in your own head again.” She elbowed him playfully. Jamil felt himself smile without realizing it and quickly schooled his features to a more serious expression. “Want to take a break? I snagged these cookies from Sam’s. Tomorrow’s the expiration date so I got them on sale.”

Jamil wrinkled his nose. “Is it worth it?”

(Y/N) shrugged, taking a bite of a cookie. “It’s in the budget. You know, whenever Crowley actually decides to pay me.”

“You know, if you’re ever short on food you can always come to Scarabia. If Kalim’s not throwing another party with a buffet I can get you something. I always make extras for Kalim, anyway.” This was not entirely true. Jamil had had practically his entire life to get used to cooking for Kalim, and it was only recently that he had started making larger batches, packaging them up to deliver to a certain magicless prefect who’s nutritional health he definitely didn’t worry about.

(Y/N) smiled and offered him the cookie bag. “You look after everyone all the time, don’t you?”

Jamil smiled back and took a cookie. They sat in an alcove in the hallway, chatting about nothing of significance. Jamil told a story about how Floyd had insisted Jamil teach him how to spin on his head during basketball practice and (Y/N) told him stories of her recent trip to Harveston, Epel’s hometown, and the sled race against the surprise Royal Sword Academy students.

Jamil saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but whatever it was disappeared before he could catch it. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Oh, about the stuffed animals. Sebeck won’t admit it, but I think he still has his squirrel plush in his room. I don’t think it’s magic anymore but it is really cute.”

Jamil heard the drag of a bow on strings and looked around.

(Y/N) frowned. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

Jamil shook his head. “No, sorry, I’m fine. I thought I heard-”

Music started to pour around them. Although it was the calming, one might almost say romantic, type, they both still jumped at the sudden noise. Jamil jumped up, looking around, and took a hit of sunflower petals directly to his face.

“Omar!” Someone hissed. “Be careful!”

“Sorry, Babkak,” A voice squeaked back.

Wait, Jamil knew those voices. He whipped around the corner, seeing a group of Scarabia first-years. Several formed a string quartet, softly playing music. The other two had a bucket of flower petals, one of them throwing handfuls in the air while the other directed a zephyr spell to blow them across the hallway. The two froze with wide eyes at the sight of their Vice-House Warden.

“What,” Jamil said, voice steely and arms crossed. “Are you doing?”

The string players looked nervously at each other but continued to play. Omar gapped like a codfish. Babkak stood up straight with a confident smile. “We’re setting the mood!”

“What mood?” “For your confession!”

Oh. Oh, no. Now Jamil realized how he recognized them. Babkak was the one who dropped the flower pot yesterday and Omar was the one he had dragged with him to eavesdrop. They must have heard what Kalim had said yesterday about him and (Y/N) and taken the wrong idea. And, Jamil justified to himself, it was definitely the wrong idea.

“Jamil?”

Jamil turned so fast the first-years were momentarily worried about whiplash. (Y/N) stood at the corner, looking curiously at the impromptu band and flowers. Behind him, Jamil could hear them hastily whispering to each other to keep playing and trying to get the effect of floating flower petals just right.

“Something going on?” She asked.

“No!” Jamil said, perhaps a little too quickly. “They were just leaving.” He glared at the first-years. “After they clean this up.”

(Y/N) took a step forward. Jamil felt his mouth go dry as she reached up and plucked a few stray yellow petals from his hair. “Is this for a botany project or something? Kind of romantic, huh?”

Jamil felt his face burn with embarrassment.

“No!” Jamil said, at the same time Babkak said, “Yes!”

“Okay,” (Y/N) said, rolling closed the half-full bag of cookies. “Well, I should probably get going. I need to see what kind of trouble Grim has gotten into while I was gone. I’ll see you later, Jamil.” She waved to him and then the first-years.

“What made you think this was a good idea?” Jamil asked, trying very hard not to yell, when (Y/N) was out of earshot.

“Sorry, sir,” Omar said, dejectedly picking up flower petals. He glared up at Babkak. “I told you we should have gone for the romantic dinner. And rose petals, not sunflowers.”

Babkak waved his friend off. “Don’t be so cliche. Besides, sunflowers are way better! They’re pretty and you can eat the seeds!”

“Hey!” Jamil snapped. The two boys looked back up at him while the other first-years were trying to discreetly pack up their instruments. “I asked what you were doing? Did Kalim put you up to this?”

“No, sir, this was all us!” Babkak said, a little too proudly. “We wanted to help.” “Yeah,” Omar said. “We’re all rooting for you, Vice-House Warden, sir!” The other first-years made noises of agrement.

“Rooting for me?”

“With (Y/N), to tell her you love her!”

Jamil groaned, covering his eyes with his hand and rubbing his temples. “I am not in love with the Prefect.” Jamil missed the skeptical look the two gave each other. “Look, I appreciate the…vote of confidence, but I’m not going to confess anything to anyone any time soon. So whatever else you have planned, or whoever else you told this rumor to, you can give it a break. Understand?”

“Yes, Vice-House Warden,” They all echoed dutifully.

As Jamil marched away, Omar leaned over to Babkak. “I’ve got twenty madol that say he confesses before the spring party.”

Jamil’s muscles were burning, and he welcomed it. He needed the distraction after this morning and basketball practice against Floyd in full force was a pretty good diversion. Ace had been uncharacteristically distracted all practice. Although Jamil couldn’t help but notice that Ace seemed to pass a little harder than necessary.

During a water break, Ace came up to Jamil. He tossed his water bottle between his hands, taking a step away and then closer.

Jamil knew he would regret it before he even asked, “What’s up, Ace?”

Ace startled, surprised Jamil had made the first move. “I heard something,” He said. “In potions class today.”

“Did someone blow up something again? Anyone get turned into an animal or something?”

Ace pressed his lips together. “Do you like (Y/N)?”

Jamil couldn’t decide whether to be exhausted, flustered, or annoyed. “Who told you that?”

Ace’s eyes widened in shock. “You do?!”

“No!” Jamil snapped back. “People are just going around spreading rumors.”

“Huh?” Floyd asked, sliding over on the bleachers. “I thought everyone knew already.”

“Knew?”

Floyd flashed his sharp teeth. “Come on, Sea Snake. Everyone knows you’re, what’s the land term? Head over heels for Shrimpy.”

Ace dropped his water bottle and jabbed an accusatory finger at Jamil. “I knew it!”

“You don’t know anything,” Jamil said, shoving Ace’s hand aside.

“Oh?” Floyd said, leaning in a little too close. “So that means she’s available then?”

“No!” Ace and Jamil both shouted at the same time. Ace glared at Jamil. A few other members of the basketball club glanced over, snickering to themselves at the outburst.

Ace puffed out his chest, planting himself solidly in front of Jamil. “Look, (Y/N) is one of my best friends. And if you do anything to mess with her then… then…” Ace fumbled, running out of steam with his threats before catching his second wind. “Then you’ll have to deal with Jack!”

Jamil crooked an eyebrow. “Jack? Not you or Deuce?”

Ace shrugged. “Jack’s the biggest. But Deuce did used to be a delinquent. I’ve seen him be pretty brutal when he wants to. And I guess Epel can scrap up too, when Vil isn’t around. Probably couldn’t convince Sebeck to help out, he’d just lecture about a knight’s honor or something. Ooh, Ortho had a blast cannon! So, you know, watch out!”

“I like how you didn’t put yourself in the line of fire there, Crabby,” Floyd said. He rolled his shoulders. “But you know, I think Shrimpy is pretty great, too. I don’t want to see her sad or anything. So if someone were to maybe break her heart,” He glanced sideways as Jamil with crazed wide eyes. “Can you swim, Sea Snake?”

Jamil just glowered back at him. “Can everyone just stop talking about (Y/N) today?”

“People are talking about me?” All three of them jumped. (Y/N) walked into the gym, Grim hanging off her shoulders. “I thought I felt my ears burning.”

“Shrimpy!” Floyd immediately ran up to her, sweeping her up in a tight squeezing hug. Grim jumped off her shoulders with a yelp. Ace yelled and pulled at Floyd’s jersey, trying to pry them apart.

(Y/N) weakly patted Floyd’s back with a free hand. “Hi, Floyd, hi, Ace. Sorry, I need Jamil real quick.”

The two boys froze, slowly turning their heads to stare at Jamil, who was busy hiding his face in his hands. They watched like hawks as (Y/N) walked over to Jamil.

“Hey,” She said. “You okay?”

“Fine,” He said, waving her off. “Just one of those days, you know?”

She frowned. “You need me to talk to someone? I can chew out Ace if you want. Floyd is sort of out of my league, though.”

Jamil sighed a laugh. “No, that’s fine.”

“Oh! Right! Hang on.” She slung her backpack off her shoulder, reaching in and pulling out a familiar water bottle. “Here, you left this in the library. One of the Scarabia first-years found it and asked me to bring it to you.”

“Oh, thanks. I was wondering where it was.” Jamil didn’t mention that he hadn’t been in the library at all today. As he reached to take it, their fingers brushed. Jamil grabbed the bottle and jerked back like he had been scorched. His heart was hammering, not from the exercise of basketball practice, and he was momentarily worried (Y/N) would be able to hear it. Not to mention if she would notice how clammy his hands had suddenly become.

“Well,” (Y/N) said. “I guess I’ll get out of your hair-”

“Wait!”

The entire basketball team, plus (Y/N) and Grim, turned to the sudden outburst. Babkak had half way thrown himself out of the doorway entrance to the gym, hand extended in a Stop motion. Omar guilty peaked out from the door frame.

“Uh, I mean,” Babkak said, back peddling.

“You should stay!” Omar jumped in. “I mean, we should all stay to watch practice! Support your local team and everything!” He weakly punched the air. “Go team?”

Jamil opened his mouth to chastise them again before (Y/N) spoke, “That sounds fun. I don’t get to see you guys play too often. If that’s okay with you, though.”

“Oh, um,” Jamil stuttred.

Floyd jumped up, throwing himself over Jamil’s shoulders and smiling wide. “Of course you can stay! You can watch Sea Snake show off!”

Jamil elbowed him. “You’re the one who shows off, Floyd.”

(Y/N) shrugged, smiling. (And Jamil definitely didn’t feel his heart flip.) “I don’t have any plans.”

As everyone got back in position for practice, Ace took his place, whispering to Jamil, “Remember: Ortho has a laser cannon.”

Jamil rolled his eyes.

From the corner of his eye, Jamil saw the group of Scarabia first-years shuffle into the bleachers around (Y/N) and Grim. He thought he saw a few of them hiding objects behind their backs, but was pulled back to the game before he could investigate further.

He lost himself back in the game. Sneakers squeaked against the waxed wooden floor, the bounce of the ball reverberated around the gym, each quick and practiced movement by the players blurring at the edge of Jamil’s vision. Another player passed him the ball. He faked left, turning around Floyd, before lining up a shot at the three point line. He raised the ball, arms tensing in preparation to shoot and-

A blare of sound echoed through the gym, bouncing off the acoustic walls and tumbling down around everyone in attendance. The ball slipped from Jamil’s hands, falling uselessly in a pathetic arc and bouncing across the court floor. Jamil turned to the bleachers where the noise had come from. The first-years, Jamil now recognized them as the string quartet from earlier, now made up a brass band. The noise he had heard was the blast from a tuba. The rest of the band joined in, trumpets, french horn, and bugle. They started playing a high-energy marching tune. How many instruments did these people know how to play anyway? Omar and Babkak had red and yellow pom poms, waving them enthusiastically. Babkak passed a pair to a bewildered (Y/N).

“Go, Vice-Housewarden Jamil!” Babkak cheered.

“Show them who’s boss, sir!” Omar whooped.

Everyone froze, looking from the impromptu cheering section and band to Jamil then back again. Jamil’s face felt as hot as the Scalding Sands desert at noon. It didn’t help at all when Floyd started cackling.

He began to march over to confront his dorm mates, again, when a new echoing sound made him pause. (Y/N) had thrown her head back in laughter. She stood, waving the pom poms above her head.

“Go, Jamil, go!” She cheered.

Jamil was pretty sure he was going to spontaneously combust at any second.

The rest of practice had been a disaster. Every time Jamil got the ball the bleachers would erupt in noise, distracting him and everyone else trying to play. Jamil had never felt so off his game, fumbling the ball, bumping into his teammates, and losing focus at every moment that mattered, and most of the ones that didn’t, too. He purposely avoided turning in the direction of the cheering squad, partially because he wanted to discourage whatever activities the first-years were insistent on doing, and partially so he didn’t have to see (Y/N) cheer for him so enthusiastically. (And, maybe, so she wouldn’t be able to see how flustered he was becoming with every second.)

A teammate had patted Jamil’s shoulder in sympathy as they headed to the showers after practice. “Don’t worry,” He said. “I bet she still likes you.”

Jamil resisted the urge to punch him.

Now, at least, he was back in a rhythm of something he knew how to do: cooking. Ever since his stint in the Culinary Crucible, the ghost chefs had tapped him and a few other stand out cases to help out in the kitchen every once and a while.

The kitchen filled with the scent of roasting spices and sizzling meat, spilling out into the cafeteria sitting area. Students had started lining up way before the kitchen officially opened to secure their plate of Jamil’s cooking. Jamil felt the tension melt out of his shoulders, much like the butter in the pan he was currently using, as he fell into his familiar rhythms.

“Thanks again for your help,” One of the ghost chefs said, floating by with a steaming bowl of freshly made turmeric rice.

“Not a problem,” He replied. “It gets me out of my own head.”

“Oh?” Another ghost asked. “Having troubles, youngster?”

“Girl troubles, maybe?” Another snickered.

All the ghosts jumped as Jamil brought down a butcher knife to decapitate a fish. They collectively decided it was maybe best to drop the topic, already deceased or not.

“Ah, Jamil, chef, sir?” A student volunteer said, warily eyeing the butcher knife. “Someone was having an issue with their meal. They wanted to talk to you.”

So much for his relaxation. Jamil quickly let the others know what to keep an eye on in the kitchen and headed out to the main sitting area. He scanned the tables. It looked like everyone was enjoying their food as far as he could tell. He looked back into the window of the kitchen. The volunteer student pointed at a table near the back by a window. He was about half way across the room when he realized that the student was a Scarabia student, a first-year in fact. And, now that he thought of it, he didn’t think he had seen that student in the kitchen before he had come to talk to Jamil.

Jamil froze, seeing exactly who was sitting at the indicated table. This was a set up. He turned around to go back, only to be stonewalled by two now very familiar Scarabia students.

“Hello, sir!” Omar chirped.

“Taking your dinner break?” Babkak asked. “Great! We have the perfect table for you.”

They both hooked their arms around Jamil’s and practically dragged him over to the table where (Y/N) and Grim sat.

“Oh, hi,” She said, blinking at the surprise arrival. Jamil felt his throat tighten and couldn’t formulate a response.

The musically talented first-years descended to the table, quickly picking up her plate of food to whisk a tablecloth over the table, setting down a candelabra which was quickly lit, and a vase with a dozen roses.

“Roses,” Omar whispered to Babkak with a sly smile. Babkak rolled his eyes. The two shoved Jamil into a seat opposite (Y/N). A plate of food was set in front of him. The sneaky Scarabia student from the kitchen grabbed Grim, shoving a plate of tuna tartare in his paws before he could protest. Then, the group of wannabe restaurateurs vanished as quickly as they had appeared. The two left at the table, Jamil and (Y/N), looked at eachother with confusion. Jamil dropped his head to stare intently at his plate, stabbing at the sayadieh with his fork.

“Hey,” Jamil was jerked out of his thoughts by (Y/N)’s voice. “I wanted to apologize for earlier, at practice. It looked like we were a pretty big distraction.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Jamil said. “It wasn’t your fault.” He glared at the first-years eagerly watching from a table a safe distance away.

“Yeah, but still, I don’t need to make your life any harder.”

Jamil looked up at her. She was twirling her spoon around the tabouli, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. “You don’t make my life harder,” he insisted. “In fact, you’ve made a lot of things easier. My relationship with Kalim is a lot better now, for one thing.”

She smiled at him, and his heart definitely didn’t skip a beat. “Well, glad I can help, then. But don’t sell yourself short. You’ve been doing a lot of work since everything that happened.” She waved her hand, regarding the invisible thing they both understood. It was still hard to talk directly about his Overblot, the manipulation, abuse of magic, and kidnapping aside. (Y/N) had told him she wanted to give him space for it, to consider how he felt and talk to others at his own pace, but still trying to address the root of the issues. That was when she had started organizing those sessions between her, Jamil, and Kalim, giving them a place to directly talk with each other without outside pressures and influences, helping them work things together as friends instead of the master/servant role Jamil so often felt himself confided to.

“This is great, by the way,” (Y/N) interjected, scooping up a mouthful of tabouli. “I can always tell when it’s your cooking. Thanks for those leftovers the other day. I know Grim really likes them too.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” He said. He didn’t say, “I didn’t make it for Grim. I made it for you.” He blanched at the intrusive thought and snatched up his water glass, taking a large gulp and trying not to choke.

“You sure you’re okay?” (Y/N) asked. “You’ve seemed kind of on edge all day.”

“I’ll deal with it later,” Jamil said, looking over at the first-years who started enthusiastically nodding and giving him thumbs-up.

(Y/N) drummed her fingers against the table. “Listen, actually, there’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about-”

“Lgeimat!” Jamil shouted.

She blinked at him. “Sorry?”

“The lgeimat! I left them in the fryer! Sorry, have to go, have a good night!” Jamil shot up and zipped back to the safety of the kitchen.

“I didn’t know we were having lgeimat tonight,” Omar said from their spying perch.

Babkak thudded his head on the table at their third defeat. “We’re not.” He grumbled.

Jamil collapsed on the low couches in the Scarabia common room, arm flung across his face to cover his eyes from the late evening light. The day felt like it went on forever. Jamil had caught himself constantly looking over his shoulder, jerking at every unexpected sound, in anticipation of an over eager group of first-years.

“Hi, Jamil-Oh,” Kalim stopped himself, looking over at his drained friend. “You okay?”

Jamil sighed in response. “Long day.”

“Oh.” Kalim sat down next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jamil peered out from under his arm at Kalim. At least that was one improvement, again, thanks to (Y/N) specific intervention. Kalim had slowly been teaching himself not to jump to conclusions or take it upon himself to fix everything by throwing money or extravagance at it, but by taking the time to hear other people, namely Jamil, out first. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t throw money or extravagance at the problem in the end, but progress was progress.

Jamil gave Kalim a halfhearted glare. “It’s all thanks to that rumor you started.”

Kalim blinked. “Rumor? Oh, you mean about how you’re in love with-”

“Yes!” Jamil cut him off, sitting bolt upright. “That! Some first-years heard you the other day and have been following me around, trying to start up some grand romantic gesture.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that. I think it’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“That everyone believes in you! Everyone knows how hard you work. We all want to see you happy and with the person you love.”

Jamil stood. “Kalim, I’m not-”

“Nope.” Kalim said shooting up. He put his hands on the taller boy’s shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You’ve been different ever since winter break. You smile more when (Y/N)’s around. You’re not so tense all the time. And whenever we’re in a group, like at the cafeteria or dorm meetings or parties, you’re always looking for her. And when you see her your whole face just lights up! Do you know how often you talk about her? It’s a lot, Jamil! ‘Oh, I wonder what (Y/N) would think about this. Do you think (Y/N) has that in her world? Do you think (Y/N) likes spicy or sweet food? Do you think (Y/N)’s doing okay at Ramshackle? Do you think she needs help with any repairs like when we stayed there during VDC training? (Y/N) sure works real hard to catch up with a whole new culture. Do you think (Y/N) would want this extra curry?’”

“I don’t sound like that,” Jamil protested weakly.

Kalim sighed, hands on his hips. “I’ve known you my whole life. I know what you’re like when you’re mad, I know what you’re like when you’re sad, I know what you’re like when you’re happy, and now I know what you’re like when you’re in love.”

Jamil pushed back. “I’m not in love with her!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m not-” Jamil cut himself off. He felt suddenly dizzy. He sat down hard. “Oh, I’m in love with her.”

Kalim threw his hands in the air. “Yes! Thank you! Finally!”

“But,” Jamil continued, and Kalim tried really hard to keep his frustration to himself. “I can’t tell her that. I can’t… put that kind of pressure on her. She has enough going on with Grim and Ramshackle and trying to find a way home and… Sevens, she’s going back home, Kalim! I don’t know when or how, but she won’t even be in this universe! And what, I’m just supposed to show up and dump this emotional baggage on her when she already has everything else to worry about?”

Kalim sat down next to Jamil. He twirled his fingers together, trying to collect his thoughts. Why was it always so hard to know the right thing to say? “You said feelings were like a two way street yesterday, remember? So don’t you think (Y/N) should have a say too?”

“Kalim, I can’t-”

“Yes you can!” Kalim shouted, jumping up and clapping his hands. “You’re Jamil Viper! If anyone can do it, can do anything, it’s you! And keeping everything bottled up isn’t fair to you or her or anyone. So-So-” Kalim frowned, trying to look stern, a very strange expression for the normally boisterous boy. “So go tell her how you feel right now, and let her decide what happens next! That’s an order as your house warden!” Kalim flinched. “Please.”

Jamil stared at him for just a second too long, making Kalim squirm with worry that he had gone too far. Then, Jamil sighed, resigned, a half smile on his face. “Well, if my house warden is ordering it, how can I say no?”

Despite what he had told Kalim, Jamil dreaded every step towards Ramshackle dorm. Even with the ‘order’ from his house warden, Jamil considered turning back. Instead, with each uncertain step, he plotted out exactly what he would say. Was it just as simple as ‘I have feelings for you?’ Should he have some grand gesture ready? Absolutely not. Those first-years had spoiled that concept for him.

Before he realized it, Jamil was walking up the pathway to the dilapidated dorm. He stood at the front step, fist up ready to knock. It hovered there. A plan, he still needed a plan. He couldn’t just walk in without a plan of what to say, what to do. He’d had the entire walk over here, how had he not come up with a more solid idea?

The door snapped open in front of him, Grim hurdling out, crashing into Jamil’s chest. “What-? Oh, hey!” Grim said, rubbing his head at the bump then cracking into a wide smile at the sight of Jamil. “Did you bring us dinner again?”

“Uh, no, not this time,” Jamil said, already thrown off.

Grim frowned. “Meh, whatever. I’m going to Sam’s anyway to get some tuna.”

“Milk and eggs!” (Y/N)’s voice called from inside. “You’re getting milk and eggs! And oranges if they have any.”

“That too!” Grim said. He winked then sped off down the path.

(Y/N) appeared at the doorway, clearly having sprinted to catch the dire beast before he left. “Grim, I said we don’t have the budget to- Oh, he’s gone. Right, sure, why not?” She sighed. “Hi, Jamil.”

Jamil swallowed hard. “Should I come back later?”

(Y/N) waved the idea off. “No, it’s fine, you’re already here. Come on in.”

Jamil followed her into the dorm to the sitting room just past the entrance hall. Despite the age and wear of the building, it was clear that (Y/N) had taken a lot of pride in fixing it up and keeping everything in order.

“Sorry, I was in the middle of doing dishes,” (Y/N) said, whipping her wet and slightly soapy hands against her skirt. “Go ahead and take a seat, I’ll get some tea and snacks.”

“It’s fine,” Jamil said, quickly standing back up after having just sat down on one of the overstuffed couches. “I know where everything is, I’ll get it.”

“No, no, you’re a guest. Take a break, I’ll get it.”

“It’s fine really. I’m sure Crowly has been keeping you busy all day.”

“And you’re just as busy. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

“No, really, I-”

“Jamil!” Jamil jumped at her sudden outburst, his hands frozen in the air. She huffed and put her hands on her hips. “Honestly. You take care of everyone else all the time. Let me take care of you for once.”

Oh no. Oh no.

“Now sit down while I go make some tea.”

He sat down. This was worse than he thought. He really was in love.

She wanted to take care of him. Of him. When was the last time someone offered to take care of him, to lighten his load, to take responsibility for the burden? For as long as Jamil could remember that had been his job, his life. Kalim, Najma, his parents, the Scarabia students, everyone and everything. It was like he didn’t realize just how tired he was until (Y/N) offered to help. Why did her snapping at him just now make him feel so relieved?

Almost without thinking about it, Jamil’s feet took him into the kitchen. (Y/N) was standing at the stove, setting down a heavy teapot on the burner. She was mumbling to herself about something, Jamil couldn’t really hear what. His ears were ringing.

(Y/N) noticed that Jamil had come into the kitchen, turning to face him. She frowned, eyebrows knit together. “Jamil, I told you that - Oh!”

Ignoring his anxiety, ignoring that nagging thought that he didn’t have a plan, ignoring the churning nervousness in his stomach, Jamil pulled (Y/N) into a tight hug, burning his face in her hair.

“I like you,” He said, so softly that he had to repeat himself to make sure she heard, to make sure she understood the depth of his feelings. “I like you. I think I might even- I feel better when I’m with you, like I can be better. I don’t feel like everything I’ve done up until now is just in service to someone else, because all of those things lead me to meeting you. I feel like I can think clearly, that I don’t always have to be on alert. I want to take care of you, I want to be with you, I want us to be together. And I know - I know I’ve done horrible things in the past, I know you’ve seen me at my lowest. But you still see me, me, not anything else. Not the servant, not the diplomatic aid, not the Overblot monster- How could I not fall in love with you? So, (Y/N), please. I just - please.” He wasn’t quite sure what he was asking ‘please’ for, he only hoped she would understand.

(Y/N) trailed her fingers along his back, threading through his long hair. She pulled back, as much as Jamil’s embrace would allow. The corners of her eyes were dotted with tears. “Jeeze, Jamil,” (Y/N) said. “Way to steal my thunder. I wanted to say it first.”

Jamil let out a cracked laugh, tears welling up in his own eyes. “You did?”

(Y/N) hiccuped, laughing. “Yeah, of course. I thought I was being kind of obvious with it. I finally decided to suck it up and tell you at dinner earlier, but you just ran away so I thought you knew what I was going to say and didn’t feel the same.”

“Sorry, I guess I was nervous. And those first-years all day…”

(Y/N) laughed out loud. “I was wondering what was up with that. Was that Kalim or something?”

“For once, no. They took it upon themselves to try and set us up.”

“Aww, they care about you.” She hugged him close. “And I can see why.”

That weekend, it was finally time for the Welcome Spring party, and there were, indeed, more flowers than usual. Kalim was flitting around, making sure everything was organized and where it needed to be. Jamil had asked if he could leave for the morning, coming back when it was time for the party to start. And, even though he had been the one to ask for the time off, Jamil had double checked that it was okay with Kalim no less than a dozen times before he actually left. Kalim insisted repeatedly that he would be fine, that he had a handle on everything. And, maybe, for the most part he did. It definitely helped that Jamil had assigned tasks to several other dorm members the night before to make sure Kalim didn’t get too overwhelmed.

Just as the golden hour set in, magical floating lanterns bobbing along in the air amid swirling flower petals, the guests started to arrive. Kalim had sent out a recommended dress code ahead of time, requesting pastels, whites, and gold. Something to fit in with the refreshing and floral mood he wanted to create. Mostly, he was happy to report, everyone was able to follow the requirements. Heartslabyul students especially were rigidly adhering to the dress code under the watchful eye of their house warden. Most of them wore pinks, as it was the required color when taking care of the dorm flamingos so they already had something that would fit the theme. Savannaclaw didn’t much stick to theme, but had tried to comply with sticking puffy peony blossoms through belt loops or behind their ears. Octavinelle wore light blues and corals, studded with shimmering scales, pearls, and other bits of underwater flora. Scarabia, of course, as the hosts, were the most bejeweled, taking inspiration from the fairy gala that had inadvertently plunged the campus into chaos, but also resulted in beautiful flowing white and gold garments. Pomfiore stayed mostly in lavenders and lilacs, highlighted by golden embroidery in fantastic scenes and shapes. Ignihyde, for those who did show up, dug out whatever was the lightest color in their wardrobe, mostly staying in light blues. Similarly, no one was expecting much from the usually dour-toned Diasomnia. But, not wanting to create a social fopaux at one of the few events he had received an invitation to, thanks to (Y/N) reminding Kalim to expand his guest list at the last minute, Malleus had ensured that all his dorm members wore mint and emerald green with gold dotted throughout.

There was a noticeable absence of two usually prominent figures, but Kalim assured everyone Jamil and (Y/N) would be arriving soon. And, although Jamil had tried to slip in quietly while everyone’s attention was focused on the dance floor for an aerial ribbon performance, Kalim’s squeal of delight quickly diverted everyone’s attention. Jamil held in a groan as attention whirled to him and (Y/N). They both wore outfits from the fairy gala, meticulously designed and created by Professor Crewel. She squeezed his hand in support, dragging him further in, head held high while ignoring the stares. A few Scarabia students gave congratulations, thumping Jamil’s back as he passed. Ace caught Jamil’s eye from the other side of the room. He pointed to Ortho, who was waving excitedly, and drew a finger across his throat. Jamil rolled his eyes.

As the aerial dancers finished, (Y/N) drew Jamil to the dance floor. As a band kicked up (seriously, how many instruments did those Scarabia students know how to play?), (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Jamil’s neck as he placed his hands on her hips. He really hoped she wouldn’t notice how sweaty his palms had gotten.

“You’re nervous,” (Y/N) said. “I’m not used to seeing you like that.”

“I’ve just never really done this before,” Jamil said. “Not dancing, I’ve done that plenty. Just the whole relationship thing. I never really had a chance before. I don’t want to mess this up.”

“I think you’ve been doing pretty good so far.”

Jamil smirked. “It’s been two days.”

“Well, see? You’re gaining experience already.” She leaned forward, placing her head on his chest. “I’m nervous, too, you know. Not about this. I’m really confident how I feel about you, and I want to stay with you for as long as I can. I mean about everything going on around us. There’s a lot of unknown. Technically, you know, I don’t even exist. Don’t have any papers like a birth certificate or passport or even a valid nationality. But I know I have great people helping me out, including you. And knowing they’re on my side, it helps make things a little better. And I’m on your side. So everything will work out, you know?”

Jamil hummed. Lowley, in a quiet voice so he could dismiss it if she didn’t hear him, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

(Y/N) looked up at him, smiling, eyes twinkling. “I’d like that.”

Off to the side, behind a bolt of silk cloth, Babkak handed Omar a 20 madol note.

#wafflefriesfic #fanfic #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #jamil x reader #jamil x yuu #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #fan fiction

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gotta-get-back-to-hatchetfield · 1 year ago

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Help! I loved Nerdy Prudes Must Die and am curious about Nightmare Time but don't really have time to commit to watching it all... (a handy guide)

For those of you who don't know Nightmare Time was a series of Hatchetfield one shots that starkid wrote and recorded during lockdown, all of which are of course available for free on YouTube. They go a lot deeper into the lore than the 3 Hatchetfield musicals, including explaining and explore the characters we know and love in more detail, sometimes including shocking revelations.

They also introduce new characters to the Hatchetfield universe, including Stephanie Lauter, Grace Chasity and Pete Spankoffski, who we first met in a Nightmare Time episode.

As they were filmed in lockdown the recording quality is somewhat variable, but Season 2 has a much higher production value than Season 1, and in Season 1 Episode 1 in particular they were very clearly trying to find their feet with it. That being said the actual scripts and content of the episodes is solid throughout.

I've decided to put together this handy guide of which Nightmare Time episodes people might want to check out if they want to learn more about certain things we saw in NPMD.

1) Nibbly - Honey Queen (season 2 episode 1)

If you're curious to learn more about the Lords in Black each of them (bar Wiggly) have an episode of Nightmare Time devoted to them.

For Nibbly, Wiggly's hungriest and pinkest brother that episode is 'Honey Queen' in Season 2 Episode 1.

It explores a very entertaining rivalry between Linda Monroe (from Black Friday) and Zoey (the annoying barista from Beanie's in TGWDLM) that naturally turns very very dark. We also get to meet Linda's husband Gerald who she spends most of Black Friday on the phone to.

As a heads up Nibbly doesn't appear until, shall we say, the end of the episode (with Hatchetfield there's always a twist) and he's not in the super sexy form from NPMD but it's a very strong episode and does give a bit of background to Nibbly's deal.

2) Tinky - Time Bastard (season 1 episode 2 part 2)

If you're curious to learn more about this yellow motherfucker played by Curt then you're in luck because he's in my personal favourite episode and one with a lot of interesting lore surrounding it.

If you're curious about what he means when in NPMD he says 'I could add another Spankoffski to my set', Time Bastard is focused around Pete's brother Ted (from TGWDLM) and the dodgy dealings of CCRP.

It's an extremely clever episode, with lots of really fun twists. It's unfortunately season 1 so has slightly lower production quality, but in terms of raw scripting is just outstanding and has some really interesting reveals about people in the Hatchetfield universe who may not be who we think they are...

Also worth noting that this is in the same episode (Youtube video) as a different Nightmare Time episode 'Forever and Always'. Most episodes work like this where you have two different stories per episode, they absolutely can be watched independently but usually have some sort of thematic link (in this case it's the things we do for love and how they will inevitably be thwarted by CCRP being sketch).

3) Blinky - Watcher World (season 1 episode 1 part 2)

And if you're curious about the one who's always watching you, he's actually the first Lord in Black we meet through Nightmare Time, in the very first episode when Bill and Alice Woodward (TGWDLM) go on an ill fated trip to a spooky theme park.

Again this is from the first episode so production quality is low but it's a really solid episode and a very interesting look into these characters.

While this is our first meeting of a lord in black in Nightmare Time, I don't believe he's actually referred to as such, and the concept of the Lords in Blacks being introduced as Wiggly's brothers comes in at point 5 on this list.

4) Pokey - Yellow Jacket (season 2 episode 4)

You've already met Pokey through TGWDLM (yep that was his blue shit that destroyed the world!), but you won't truly realise how fucking scary he is until you meet his incarnation 'Otho' in Yellow Jacket.

A solid episode exploring Lex, Hannah and Ethan in a lot more detail, and in a world and lives where (at least at the start of the episode) things seem to be a lot more stable for them than in Black Friday.

And yeh as I've already mentioned Pokey is fucking s c a r y in it. Also you remember James Tolbert's character, Charles that gets a little cameo in Hatchetown? Well he's the main human antagonist of this episode!

We also learn a lot of lore about 'the gift', the thing that makes Hannah able to do magic.

5) The concept of the Lords in Black generally - The Witch in the Web (season 2 episode 3 part 2)

If you're curious about why everyone's been posting pictures of those evil teddy bears and now even more confused that you've met them all as fucked up high school students, the Witch in the Web is the episode where we're first introduced to the 'they don't care bears' as a set.

This is a really cool episode, again about Lex and Hannah, but it also exploring Uncle Wiley (from Black Friday) in a lot more detail.

We also first meet two characters called Duke and Miss Holloway who together form the ship Holloduke that if you were following any of Starkid tumblr during lockdown you will definitely have heard of. They're really cool!

Here we also meet Webby, Hannah's imaginary friend in Black Friday, who turns out to be the lord in black's sister: a queen in white. And she's dope.

6) Pete Spankoffski, Stephanie Lauter and Grace Chasity - Abstinence Camp (season 2 episode 2 part 2)

We first meet the now beloved characters of Pete and Steph and the slightly less beloved character of Grace in an evangelical abstinence only camp. The episode centers entirely around these characters and plays excellently with tropes of the horror genre.

It also has the best song in all of Nightmare Time and it's up to you to decide if I'm talking about 'oh my god it's the axe-man' or 'virginity rocks' (it's both, the answer is both).

That's pretty much it in terms of Nightmare Time episodes that cover things from NPMD, but in case you're curious here's a quick run down of what the rest are about:

The Hatchetfield Ape Man - season 1 episode 1 part 1. Hidgens makes Ted pretend to be a Tarzan style half monkey, half man thing to con Angela Giarratanna out of her inheretence.

Watcher World - season 1 episode 1 part 2. See bullet 3 above. Alice and Bill Woodward go to a theme park and shit hits the fan.

Forever and Always - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Paul and Emma get married. Things are not as they seem (there are robots). One of my personal favourites.

Time Bastard - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 2 above. Ted fucks with time travel and things end very badly for him. Best episode imo.

Jane's a Car - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Turns out the soul of Tom Houston's ex-wife Jane, who died in a car crash, transferred into the car. This somewhat complicates his budding relationship with Becky Barnes.

The Witch in the Web - season 2 episode 3 part 2. See bullet 5 above. Hannah Foster's having nightmares and somehow a witch and Uncle Wiley are involved. Luckily a good witch (Miss Holloway) is there to try and help.

Honey Queen - season 2 episode 1. See bullet 1 above. Linda Monroe and Zoey Chambers compete to win the Hatchetfield honey queen beauty pageant and things spiral wildly out of control. My personal favourite episode from season 2.

Perky's Buds - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Emma's finally achieved her dream of owning her own pot farm. Just her, her non-binary farm hand Ziggs and some very evil birds.

Abstinence Camp - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 6 above. Pete, Steph and Grace go to a retreat in the very creepy woods to learn one way or another about the perils of pre-marital sex.

Daddy - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Remember Sherman Young (Jamie's weird creepy guy from Black Friday)? Turns out there's something very weird going on with his mum. We also learn a lot about Frank Pricely (owner of toyzone from Black Friday) in this episode, who turns out to be a very interesting character.

Killer Track - season 2 episode 3 part 2. Miss Holloway must take extreme action to save a young girl and then the whole world against an evil song that kills anyone who listens to it. We learn a lot more about Holloway as a character and she is soooo cool. Another favourite episode of mine.

Yellow Jacket - season 2 episode 4. See bullet point 4. Hannah seeing her sister struggling to provide for them financially decides to find a way of using her power to earn some spare cash.

Hey Melissa - episode aired only on a livestream, type it into youtube and it'll come up. If you've ever found yourself asking 'what if Mariah's secretary character from the start of TGWDLM was really into dom pup play and Paul Matthews was her little pup bitch and she was also a horrific out of control serial killer?' then a) are you Matt Lang because if not I'm concerned? and b) by god this is the episode for you!. I personally really enjoy it I think it's super funny, but obviously heavy trigger warnings for abuse and sexual content warnings (there's a reason they didn't put this in the real series). Fucking excellent tho.

#starkid #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #the lords in black #tgwdlm #nightmare time #black friday #nmt

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anim-ttrpgs · 3 months ago

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How to Choose Music for a TTRPG Session & Eureka Song Selections

When our own group plays any TTRPG, we always like to have some amount of background music to help with the mood and tone, and if you do too, then here's a post about how best to choose it, because it is a learnable skill!

I am one of the creators of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy

and the idea for this post grew out of making a curated list of songs for Eureka sessions, each sorted into different categories for easy access. The Narrator in a Eureka campaign exercises very little control over the story and pacing of the game, so it isn't very helpful to plan for a specific reveal of specific scene set to a certain song. To that end, I have sorted these songs into various types of scenes, tones, etc. for you to grab as the story is emerging.

You can find these lists here:

Session Intro Music (in case you wanna open each session with a musical theme like an episode of a tv show)

Investigation Scene Music (low-stakes) or Meal Scene

Investigation Scene Music (tense/creepy) Part 1

Investigation Scene Music (tense/creepy) Part 2

Foot Chase Music

Vehicle Chase Music

Scooby-doo-ass Chase Music

Investigators Fleeing/Hiding from Monster Music

Unarmed Combat Music

Deadly/Armed Melee Combat Music

Deadly/Firearm Combat Music

Monster Rampage Music

Monster Hunting Music (as in the monster is a PC who is hunting prey)

How to Choose Music for a TTRPG Session

There’s a few things that make a good TTRPG session song that aren’t immediately obvious.

Avoid Lyrics

Lyrics are a no-go 90% of the time. You gotta assume that the players will be trying to read rules and/or do math during the session and lyrics can make that harder.

Avoid Loud, Dissonate, or Disorienting Music

For the very same reasons—and this is especially useful to keep in mind for a horror-themed game like Eureka—it can't be too dissident or grating. A lot of horror video game music is really dissident screechy and offensive to the ears because this induces a tiny sense of panic, but again, like with lyrics, this means it’s hard to actually play a TTRPG while listening to this.

Don't Outpace the Combat

For combat music, a fast-paced “action” song can work, but if it’s too fast-paced it really quickly outpaces the combat itself because TTRPG combat is necessarily kind of slow. I do have plenty of fast-paced actiony songs in those lists, but those are best grouped into a playlist in sequence rather than looped, because then you at least have the rather frequent serendipity of the song changing on a per-turn basis.

The usual better option is something “tense” and “cool” but a bit more understated, usually with a mid-intensity repeating beat. Complex action songs work in other mediums like movies because their notes can be tailored to sync up to the actual actions on-screen, but that won’t happen in a TTRPG 90% of the time, even if just because describing a character throwing a punch takes way longer than a character throwing a punch in a movie.

For Eureka I also had to like make sure there was a good selection of action music in there that wasn’t too “cool” or “heroic.” Eureka characters are not fearless action heroes nor usually trained soldiers. If they are in a fight, it usually isnt cool, it’s scary. If anything, the combat music should be the bad guy’s theme, not the protagonists’, because they’re the ones with the advantage. When a Eureka PC does have the advantage and can be super “cool” in a fight, they’re probably a monster, in which case it’s the other way around, they’re the terrifying bad guy in the NPC’s story, and I tried to pick music to reflect that with “darker,” more “sinister” tracks.

Choose Songs without Shifts in Tempo or Intensity

You want something that is very easy to loop. Lots of cool songs go through pretty dramatic changes in their intensity over the course of their runtime. This is cool like I said when they can be synced up to action in a movie, but they’ll never (or rarely) sync up with anything in a TTRPG session. They’re going to be playing over and over on like a 3-minute loop as you roll dice and occasionally look up rules, and if this loop is really noticeable because of how the song starts out slow and then swells in intensity, that is going to be annoying fast. You want a song that has a relatively consistent level of intensity throughout its whole runtime.

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but you can still check out the public beta on itch.io to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, etc.!

You can also follow updates on our Kickstarter page where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more, you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy earlier, plus extra content such as adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

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hungermakesmonsters · 8 months ago

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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Two

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 4.3k

A/N : Spoiler warning for anyone who hasn't read The Picture of Dorian Gray (though can I really spoil a book that's over 130 years old? idk).

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter Two

This is going to be fun.

That was what he’d told you, and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

As you laid in bed that night, you wondered where he was, you wondered what he was doing. What had he meant when he told you that he liked you? Did you even want to be liked by him? The more you thought about it, the more you realised just how strange the conversation had been. At the time it felt like he was taking a measure of you, trying to understand you, but not necessarily trying to know you.

At the time you’d felt like you were on the back foot, too shocked by his sudden appearance to really learn anything about him.

But, again, you had to wonder if that was something you really wanted. After all, he was a vampire and there was still so much that you didn’t know about their world and the way that they lived.

You fell asleep that night thinking about his dark eyes and the way he’d looked as he’d sipped your blood.

The next morning you woke with a start, realising that you'd forgotten to set an alarm the night before and you’d overslept. Not that you had any reason to wake up before midday, but you were certain that if you didn’t find a way to keep some sort of structure in your life over the next year, you were going to lose your mind.

So, you got up and got breakfast before spending half an hour on the treadmill, taking a slow walk, imagining you were on your way to the Met. Every day you were going to imagine a new place you’d be able to see in the city once your contract was over. After your walk and a quick shower, you got dressed and headed out into the main penthouse.

You weren’t surprised that he wasn’t out there - because, of course he wasn’t, it was the middle of the afternoon - but you still felt... something. Disappointment? No, loneliness.

For a few seconds your eyes caught on his door before you headed into the library.

The next few hours were spent going through his books and his record collection, looking for something, anything, that might tell you a little more about him. But you didn’t know what you were looking for, and there was no way of telling which of the books, if any, held any real sort of value to him. Dorian Gray, you guessed, had to mean something because he’d noticed it was missing from the shelf, but there was everything from the classics to more recent books, spanning almost every genre you could think to name.

(Though you did have to wonder if he’d purchased Dracula before or after being turned.)

Your search for clues seemed fruitless; you couldn’t even begin to guess his age from his record collection. There was everything from classical music to records that you knew were only released last year. Everything was too eclectic. Normally eclectic was something that you liked, you hated the idea of being stuck with only one genre or type or music or book, but it was frustrating how little you’d been able to discover.

What made it worse, you came to realise, was that he’d been able to read you as easily as he might read one of his books. He’d only had to look at you to understand that you’d taken this job to get away from something.

But you weren’t going to let your mind wander to thoughts of home.

That evening you sat and waited on the sofa realising for the first time that you could get an amazing view of the sun setting over Central Park and the city from there. You’d brought the battered copy of Dorian Gray with you, but every time you tried to focus on it, you found yourself distracted by the view.

To your disappointment, the clock struck 9pm and Mr Russo still hadn’t appeared, so you made your way back to your room.

It was silly to feel disappointed, but you weren’t used to feeling so completely alone. Back home there had always been someone around, even when you wanted nothing more than to be alone. And, the rest of the time, you’d had social media to slake your thirst for connection and companionship. Now there was nothing but the walls of the penthouse, TV and Mr Russo’s collection of books.

The next day passed similarly; you got up, you had a little walk on the treadmill before showering, then you picked out your outfit for the day.Then you headed to the library and started to make you through Mr Russo’s vinyl collection, listening to some of the albums that grabbed your attention, keeping the volume down in case the vampire was sleeping in his rooms.

That was the thing that was really starting to bother you - you didn’t even know if he was home. There was no way of telling if he was just beyond the door to his room, or if he was even in the city. Not knowing just made the loneliness more acute.

That evening, after you’d eaten and drawn blood, you found yourself on the sofa again watching the sunset, his book on your lap and a couple of the muffins you’d made, sitting on a plate on the table. Sugar seemed to help after drawing blood, though you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it.

“Making yourself at home, I see,” his voice pierced the silence so suddenly that you started.

You turned from the window quickly, to find him standing by his door, smiling and very obviously impressed with himself.

“How long have you been stood there?” Not even trying to disguise the shock or annoyance in your tone.

He didn’t answer, instead he started towards the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass before retrieving today’s blood from the fridge.

“It’s quite the view,” he stated, his back to you, “I suppose someone should appreciate it.”

“You mean you don’t?” Curious. Why bother having a penthouse like this if he didn’t care about the view?

“Looking at the sunset isn’t exactly enjoyable for vampires,” he shrugged, turning and making his way towards the sofa.

“I thought the windows made the sunlight safe for you?” Or maybe you were just being stupid. You hated how little you know, how little you’d learned before taking the job. And, now, without the internet, you couldn’t even try to learn about it.

“They make it safe, yes,” he stated, sitting down, not directly next to you, but much closer than he had been the first time you met. “But seeing the sun and knowing that I’ll never feel its warmth on my face again, makes it a little unbearable.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t expect that to get a laugh.

“You apologise a lot for someone who hasn’t done anything wrong yet.”

Yet? You weren’t sure what that meant, but you didn’t think it wise to ask. As far as you were concerned, you weren’t going to do anything wrong while you were there.

“It’s just how I was raised, I guess,” you shrugged, your gaze dropping to his glass, to your blood.

Mr Russo gave a hum, his gaze still fixed on you, looking right through you. It was enough to make your heart beat a little faster, even though Lissa had warned you about such things, but controlling it was easier said than done.

“Are you still settling in?” He asked. “I know that all of this can take a while to adjust to.”

“It’s -” you started and stopped, wondering if it was wise to be honest about it, “- a little lonely. I’m not used to going for days without someone to talk to. Normally I’d at least have the dog, but...” you trailed into a sigh, reminding yourself that this was what you agreed to.

“I see,” he nodded, face offering the slightest slither of sympathy. “I’ll do what I can to help with that.”

Silence fell for a few moments before his eyes dropped to your lap, to the book that you’d started to tightly grip at some point after his sudden appearance.

“Are you enjoying the book?” He asked and you looked down, noticing how white your knuckles were.

“Yes,” your cheeks started to warm, “very much.”

Your fingers flexed, releasing your grip on the book and, instead, you pressed your hands flat on your lap.

“Have you read it before?”

“No, it’s not -” you paused for a second, trying to think of the best way to explain it to him, “- it’s not the sort of book that was deemed acceptable where I’m from.”

“Ah,” he nodded, still looking very amused by everything, by you. “And you’re reading it now as - what? An act of rebellion against the way you were raised? Or are you just curious to see how bad it is?”

“No, it’s not that,” you answered without hesitation, shrugging, “I always thought it was a stupid rule. People should be allowed to read what they want and draw their own conclusions. That’s the point of art; it means something different to everyone that views it. And I don’t like being told how to feel about things.”

The amusement on his face slowly started to turn to something a little more genuine, something a little more interested.

“What part are you up to?”

“He’s going to ask Sybil to marry him.”

He gave the slightest of nods. “And what do you think about that?”

It was a strange question, but perhaps that was because you weren’t used to people wanting to know your thoughts or opinions on things. You took a slow breath and he didn’t pressure you, giving you a moment to get your thoughts in order.

“I think it’s a bit soon. He hasn’t really known her very long and he seems more infatuated with who she is when she’s on stage than her as a person, but...”

“But?” He prompted gently.

“If he loves her half as much as he thinks he does, then maybe they could be happy together? It seems like he needs someone who’ll love him, someone who he can love more than himself, and someone who’ll get him away from Lord Henry.” Even though you were perfectly happy with your opinion, you still felt your cheeks warming again.

“You think he needs love?” Another unexpected question.

“Well... doesn’t everyone?”

“Do you think he really deserves it?”

“Does anyone?”

He paused for a second, looking ready to say something before obviously changing his mind. “So, do you believe in love at first sight? Like Dorian falling for Sybil?”

“I -” you faltered, looking down at the book on your lap, trying to escape the dark depths of his eyes for a moment, “- I don’t know. I find it hard to believe in anything I’ve not experienced myself.”

“You’ve never been in love?”

“I’ve never felt love at first sight,” you avoided the question, forcing yourself to look back up. “Have you?”

“No, not at first sight.”

At that, he seemed to relent, falling silent and letting his gaze drift towards the window again, lifting his glass and taking a sip. You reached for a muffin, almost gasping as his cold fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist and pulled your arm towards him. Your lips parted, ready to ask the obvious question, but it fell dead on your tongue when his thumb ran over the bruising at the crook of your arm from drawing blood. He stared at it for a second before his eyes returned to yours.

“Do I need Lissa to come and help you draw blood in future?” He asked, and you couldn’t tell if he was concerned or annoyed.

“No, it’s fine,” you gave a gentle tug against his grip, but he didn’t let go. “I just bruise easily. I didn’t even notice it.”

His fingers tightened a fraction.

“While you’re here, you’re my responsibility. I hope you understand that.”

“That’s not -” but he wasn’t finished.

“If anything was to happen to you, it would be my fault. I need to know that you’ll be more careful in future.” There was an edge to his words, something that made your stomach knot. Did he think that you were incompetent, that you couldn’t do the job? Or was he just worried that he’d be blamed if something happened to you?

“I’ll be more careful,” you told him but, still, he kept hold of your arm, thumb hovering just above the bruising, a ghost of a touch that made your heart race.

“I might be your employer, but you should understand just how much power you have in this arrangement,” his voice turned almost soft as he let you go. Before you could even think to ask what he meant, he’d drained his glass, placed it down on the coffee table and was heading towards the elevator. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mr Russo,” the words tumbled out of your mouth almost automatically, not sure what else you were supposed to say.

“You can call me Billy,” he told you as the elevator doors slid open and he stepped inside.

And, then, he was gone.

Again, he’d left you with more questions than you ever thought you’d get answers to. You wanted to feel frustrated, annoyed even, at the way he breezed in and out of conversations, as if you were a plaything, just there for him when he was bored, but all you could think about was his touch.

His hand had been so cold, like death’s icy grip and, when you looked down, you found your arm was covered in goosebumps.

Tomorrow, he’d said. He was going to see you again tomorrow. (Probably because you’d complained about being lonely.) Perhaps you’d be able to learn a little bit more about him, perhaps you’d be able to ask him what he meant when he told you that you had power here.

Before returning to your rooms for the night, you took a moment to move his empty glass from the table, rinsing it out in the sink and returning it to the cupboard where it belonged. The rest of the evening was spent trying to concentrate on reading, in part because you were invested in the book, but mostly because you wanted to have something to talk with him about tomorrow.

But, again, you found yourself distracted; by the conversation you’d had, by the things he’d said and the way he’d looked when he said them and, most of all, by the way his touch had felt on your arm.

It was silly. Ridiculous. You put it down to being trapped indoors for the last ten days and you having spoken to all of two people in that time. It wasn’t him. He could have been anyone and you’d no doubt have felt the same way. You were just starved for human contact.

(Only Billy Russo wasn’t human, was he?)

You kept thinking about his dark eyes and the way he laughed, the subtle way his lips curled up when he found something you said amusing. There was no shame in admitting that he was pretty.

Pretty in a way that would never fade or alter. Just like Dorian Gray.

Though, as you continued to read, you realised that that comparison certainly wasn’t flattering.

The next day passed much the same as the days before it and, as the hours ticked by, you found yourself almost looking forward to seeing him. Though you didn’t allow yourself to feel excitement, in case he disappointed you by not appearing. You stayed in your rooms until it was almost sunset.

He was already there waiting for you when you stepped out into the penthouse proper, today's blood in one hand, a pack of cookies in the other, and the book wedged under your arm.

“Oh,” you stopped so abruptly you almost fell over your own feet.

“Good evening,” he grinned.

“Good evening, Mr Russo,” you replied, still not moving.

“Billy,” he reminded you. “If we’re going to be living together for a year, you might as well call me Billy.”

“Billy,” you repeated, nodding before looking down. “I have your - I mean, I’ve got today’s -” you struggled, eyes fixed on the sealed bottle of blood in your hand, fresh and still warm.

You could feel your cheeks start to heat, not sure what the protocol was in this situation.

“I’ll take that now,” he said but didn’t move.

For a moment more, you remained frozen, feeling utterly ridiculous - and you were certain that he was enjoying watching your confusion.

“Okay, I’ll - I’ll put this in a glass for you,” he didn’t object, so you made your way to the kitchen and set about pouring him a drink.

It was hard not to feel a little horrified - this seemed as close to offering him a vein as you ever hoped to get - but you forced down the discomfort.

“I hope the long sleeves aren’t to cover up more bruises,” he said softly when you finally approached the sofa and took a seat, near him but with enough space that another person would have fit between you.

“No, Mr - Billy. It’s just been cold today.”

“Oh, I can’t say that I noticed...” because of course he hadn’t. “The thermostat is in the library, change the temperature whenever you need to.”

You handed him the glass, a shudder running up your spine when his cold fingers seemed to deliberately graze yours. Your breath caught as you watched him lift the glass to his lips, his eyes closed as your blood touched his lips and you heard the softest sound from the back of his throat. Butterflies filled your stomach and your eyes fixed on the window, watching the sky slowly turn from blue to a progressively darkening pinkish-orange hue.

Billy lowered his glass and remained silent, his eyes following yours to the window, allowing the silence to linger until you chose to break it.

“I thought you didn’t like watching the sunset?” You asked, not daring to look his way.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen one and even longer since I had someone to watch it with,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d give it another go.”

“So, the others, the ones before me -”

“I don’t think they cared to notice it,” he cut you off. There was something clipped about his tone, something that told you he didn’t want to talk about them. His attention turned to the book and the packet of cookies resting on your lap. “Were you planning on reading?”

“Yes, or - I don’t know, maybe..." you sighed, finally allowing yourself to look at him. He gave you a questioning look, wanting you to elaborate. “You didn’t warn me about Sybil.”

“I didn’t want to spoil it for you,” a hint of amusement slipped into his tone. “Are you disappointed that they didn’t get their happily-ever-after?”

You looked at him for a moment and quickly found yourself feeling a little annoyed at the implication that you had expected it to be that easy, that you were some hopeless romantic looking for a happy ending in the most ridiculous of places.

“I’m not some naive child. I don’t know what I expected - not a happily-ever-after, but I definitely didn’t expect that,” you tried to explain. “I didn’t expect him to be so... so cruel to her.”

“She let him down, embarrassed him in front of his friends,” Billy offered, almost like he was defending it, “he was disappointed.”

“Disappointed that she no longer needed to act to feel wanted and loved, because she thought she’d finally found that with him?” You answer back, unable to keep yourself from noticing the way the glow of the sunset made his features seem softer. “He showed her what real love could feel like, then he snatched it away from her. It was cruel.”

“You’re right,” he conceded before hesitating a moment. “Maybe I should warn you that he doesn’t get any better. There is no redemption for Dorian Gray.”

“Oh,” At that you felt yourself deflate a little, an odd feeling of disappointment gnawing at your guts. While you’d told him that you weren’t some naive child, hearing that Dorian wasn’t going to get better made you almost want to give up entirely.

Again, he seemed to find some enjoyment in your simple disappointment - something that was starting to get to you.

“I take it you’re used to reading... happier stories?” He asked and you offered a shrug. “Heroes and romance and happily ever afters?”

“Books have always been an escape for me. So, yeah, I like things that I know will end well.” You answered and, for a second, you could have sworn his smile turned a little softer. “Why do you even like this book?” You dared to ask, wanting to understand why anyone could find enjoyment in such misery.

“I think you’d need to finish the book before we could have that conversation,” was all he offered before lifting his glass and, again, you heard that soft sound as he drank. Your heart started to beat a little faster. Billy carefully licked his lips, like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting a single drop go to waste. The corner of his mouth curled with amusement again. “Are you sure I’m not your first vampire?”

Your lips parted and, for a moment you couldn’t force the words past the lump in your throat. You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if he really wanted to know, just like you couldn’t tell if it was his intention to make you feel small. But he did make you feel small, he made you feel like you didn’t understand the world you’d found yourself in; like you didn’t understand vampires or the job you’d agreed to, and like you were too naive to understand his taste in literature.

“No. You’re not,” you answered tersely, trying to hold back your annoyance. “You’re just the first one that I’ve let drink my blood.”

“Good,” he replied without hesitation, seeming to completely ignore your change of demeanour.

“Good?” What was that supposed to mean?

He shifted, turning so he could face you properly, his foot knocking against yours as he did.

“Good,” he repeated, the corners of his lips still pulling upwards. “If anyone else had tasted your blood, I doubt they would have been willing to let you go so easily.” He licked his lips and your heart continued to stutter in your chest. His eyes closed for a moment, concentrating on the sound before muttering; “like a hummingbird...”

You didn’t dare move, even though every fibre of your being was screaming at you to pull away when his hand reached for you, fingertips ghosting down your cheek to your neck coming to rest above your rapidly pulsing carotid artery. Frozen, you sat there, his hand on your neck and his dark eyes seeming to stare right into your soul.

Does my blood really taste that good? You wondered.

“It does,” he answered and you realised that you’d spoken the question aloud.

Something prickled in the back of your mind, a warning you’d been given a long time ago, about how some vampires could trick you and control you, how they could bend you to their will. But, you couldn’t tell if that was what this was, or if you were allowing this because you wanted it, because you wanted to understand. Regardless, you didn’t move. Even as he licked his lips. Even as he leaned closer.

“What does it taste like?” You heard the question but it took you a few seconds to realise that it had come from your mouth.

“Like sunlight and innocence,” he muttered softly, “sweet, like warm honey. Like life...”

Closer and closer, the cold press of his fingers on your neck sending a shiver down your spine, and a heat in your belly. Your thighs gently pressed together. He made it sound so wonderful, so romantic, like it wasn’t some strange and sordid thing. He made you feel special, made you feel things that you weren’t sure you’d ever felt before.

Before you could even consider the possibilities of what might happen next, he was pulling away from you, and you very quickly returned to your senses, taking an uncomfortable breath.

“What -” you started to ask, needing to know if he’d done something to you, if he’d been trying to control you, but he was already on his feet draining the last of your blood from the glass.

“I’m afraid I won’t have time for one of our little talks tomorrow. I have a meeting just after sunset,” he explained and your eyes followed him as he first moved to the kitchen to put his glass in the sink, then started towards the elevator. He paused once he’d hit the call button. “Keep reading the book. I’m intrigued to know what you’ll think of the ending.”

“Yes, Mr Russo,” the words tumbled clumsily from your mouth, an automatic response to the man who was your employer, wanting to regain some sense of propriety.

“Billy,” he countered. “Goodnight, little hummingbird.”

The doors slid shut and you were alone again.

You didn’t move for at least a minute, your head spinning. A hand rose to your neck touching where he had touched you, your skin still feeling cold and prickled with goosebumps. Looking down, you realised that your thighs were still clenched together.

Gathering the book and the untouched packet of cookies, you quickly made your way back to your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

End Note : Thank you so much for the wonderful response to the first chapter of this story! I hope this lives up to expectations. I'm already really enjoying writing this one. Also, sorry as always that I'm constantly so slow at responding to comments, I'm trying to get better at that

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List:

@lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @tortilla-chips-and-allioli

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #(ob)ts ff

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asmogorna · 24 days ago

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Ok so for the last couple days ive been ill in the head about The Black Parade as mcr's alter ego/characters and i wanted to share some thoughts i had so far :3

It doesnt align with the canon lore that we have (i didnt really use it for reference at least) so it can be viewed as some sort of an au

I dont know if im gonna give them new names that just sound similar to the names of mcr themselves, so for now i will be referring to them by the names of the band members

So far I've been thinking about the typical "chosen by fate" scenario, where the characters lives lead them through a path for a specific cause

Post WW2 England

5 kids under their own circumstances witness a big parade (I will be doing some research and see if it could be some kind of victory celebration parade? It's just that I'm not sure if England had those. Not that I'm aiming for historical accuracy atp it's simple curiosity)

The kids get heavily impacted by that event and carry on (ha) that memory throughout their life

Now to the specifics of the characters cus by God they all gave me a headache

Heads up: they're all british orphans lol

Frank and Bob are students/residents in a Christian orphan school, and later on in life are priests in the town church

The reason why is that they both have badges on their uniform with crosses that could be associated with christianity

(I couldn't find any info about what exactly certain design details could be referencing, so ig it's up to interpretation)

The military theme in Gerard and Mikey's costumes will be explored on later (Mikey's medal could be either The Victoria Cross or The Distinguished Flying Cross, and the symbol on Gerard's shoulder is most likely the Order Of The Garter star)

And I couldn't figure out what to do w Ray, because I'm not sure if his uniform design details reference anything specific 🤷🏾🤷🏾🤷🏾

Now, Gerard and Mikey lost their father to war, and their mother passed away when they were both very young

And after that they ended up in the same orphanage as Ray, befriending him and finding out about their shared passion for music

This doodle was made abt that specifically <3

Later on in early adulthood they decide to start a cabaret band, in which Frank and Bob both join them later, deciding to leave their priest lives behind (partially because iirc both of them kinda fanboyed their way into the band irl lol)

After receiving little recognition, the band decides to take a train to America, to try their luck there. With a lot of hope and determination

That, sadly, doesn't last for long, for the train crushes with no survivors on board

The group crawls out of the collapsed train in their no longer physical forms. Yet, even after their death, they still have a desire to move forward. And that desire, though thoughtlessly, forces them to go forward. The souls of all the other people who lost their lives to the train accident follow them, through the landscape that no longer feels like earth

They then reach the end

Walking in one by one people disappear, finding their own peace and meeting their own finish line

After it's done, The Black Parade now have officially made themselves into what they're supposed to be. Gaining a new purpose and a new sort of life

I got too poetic for my own good here I fear .. anyway

Their job now is to lead the lost and the forgotten to the afterlife

They could be referred to as some kind of a grim reaper, I guess

I'm still thinking about adding more to the story, and maybe I will change some things, but so far this is all I can share really !! I hope if you've read this far you found this entertaining .. this is all for the satisfaction of my urges so I might or might not have too much fun w it in the future :3

The story was mainly inspired by this specific post from Gerard himself, because i liked the concept a lot ..

Also

She's gonna be here as a separate character too probably...... Cus I'm self indulgent and I love the ideas bubbling in my brain

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accio-victuuri · 2 months ago

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XZ Album 《我们 WE》 early cpns.

you know we just need a few things to see and it’s a whole bunch of cpns we can produce after 😂😂😂 that’s the magic of being a turtle. lol. we may be interpreting this whole thing wrong but that’s usual when it comes to speculations we make and i think that’s the joy of it.

i’ll start of with this one that made me want to scream and cry:

i mean… shut up…. noooooo… wdym 😭😭😭

why you gotta pull the wei wuxian imagery like that. i’m very very weak for this. the writing mimics that of a red ribbon. of all things. tho the WM here as how fans interpret it and how i think xz intended it to is WM: WǒMen (我们) as in We/Us or WM: We and Me (我和“我们”) (Wǒ hé “Wǒmen”). not to mention that the color scheme of this red is 911005. his bday. everything is intentional.

but still. red ribbon. come on. who can blame us for clowning like this when he makes it so easy. it’s not a secret that the untamed and the role of wwx is important to him career wise and well *ehem* personally *ehem* because of a certain someone. if you don’t wanna look that far then just go with the W as in WANG. lol. and if it’s WM, M flipped is still W. so that’s how transfixed he is with the letter W. i wonder why. 👀

now we move on to the snippets of what the song means & how it’s making us think of wyb’s previous single everything is lovely ( which has a separate cpn too between them )

QQ music said this line connected to the album/song:

“About me, about you, about TA (him/her), or the relationship between people in this big city.”

this is pretty similar to the message of everything is lovely — it’s about appreciating everyone and looking at life and your surroundings as interconnected. they both have that sense in them. what we do and say, it has an effect and we are all related even if it’s a big city we live in. plus the use of TA which does not specify the gender. we love that! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

we get more of an expanded idea too via xzs post of the activity for the release. it mentioned a description. you can substitute the we to us if that reads better to you:

“Some people say that WE are close friends, cats and dogs waiting for us to come home every night are concrete in life.

Some people say that WE make friends with all kinds of emotions... are virtualization hidden inside the heart.

These characters of “ME”, and emotions form different "WE".

We are placed in a prism named "life", where light breaks it down into multi-faceted spaces. We travel through different spaces as lights flow and capture our own colors.

Starting from "Me", feel the intersection related to "Me", and then return to understand "self". What is the "we" behind "Me"?

A trace of emotion, a thing, a friend... The bits and pieces around "Me" all make up "We".

i think if you are someone who have been watching them for a while and the messaging they are sending out then you will see the common theme/connection here. the cats and dogs waiting for us to come home every night. that reminds me of the cpn that they have a cat and dog at home, at some point. and it’s what they want too. the interconnection of you/other people and appreciating everything around you, that’s the vibe i’m getting right now. of course we will know more one we have the song/s and the full lyrics and possibly some backstory from xz.

a coincidence too that the “me and we” is giving the same energy as “ u and i” which is in wyb’s weibo bio. which i know is something UNIQ related but there you go.

what’s more chilling i guess is the “we” was emphasized and used as a caption between them by hui-ge ( cpn about this fansite here which is a primer of sorts but there are other instances aside from what’s there ) which was i have a we / i have us. i mean. come on. too bad they haven’t posted in so long especially because fans were looking too much into them ( cpn about this photo/ post here )

the use of “we” which they have mistakenly said back in 2019 when talking about themselves:

other minor similarities:

* the concept of multiple xz and wyb through something prism/mirror like.

* both xz and ybo using similar captions which is not new but most importantly, starting an activity for fans to participate in. which i’m not sure but possibly other artists do too. but whatever, let’s add that 😂

* and the PINK! because pink is the color of love! what are the chances they will use the same color?

lastly, one of the release dates is 11/19. and as cpfs we have a whole story about that and it’s nice that we get to continue that timeline. cpfs think it’s a confirmation of the importance of this date too ^^

-END.

i surely missed some things on here and that’s fine. if something important comes up i will make a separate post! i’m so excited for this month! xz really blessed us 🥹🥹🥹😅

#yizhan #bjyx #i didn’t intend for this post to be THIS long blame it on xz #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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starsworldd · 2 years ago

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☉ Stelliums in houses☉

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1!

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ɪ’ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱᴛʀᴏʟᴏɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇꜱᴏɴᴀᴛᴇꜱ <3 ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴘʀᴇᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴀꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛꜱ ɪɴ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ

stellium in 1st house:

✧˚ · . Throughout your life, there could be more of a spotlight on you. Developing your confidence and sense of direction in life could be prevelant themes. How will you take the reins of your own life? What defines your identity? Maybe how you appear to others could be prominent themes in your life too (insecurity/overconfidence). This could also influence your personality and developing certain traits about yourself too. While there is an emphasis on you, there could also be a lack of energy on your part when it comes to compromise and partnership with others (7th house).

stellium in 2nd house:

✧˚ · . There may be an emphasis on material comfort (this can be sensory too, like food, clothing, etc…), self-esteem, and even your body. The second house is succedent to its neighboring 1st angular house, meaning that the 2nd house supports themes regarding the 1st house. The second house shows us what things support our identities so maybe there’s an emphasis on your talents/skills throughout life too. Your life may tend to focus a lot on things that are within your comfort zone (2nd house), but you must also be willing to experience transformation and uncomfortable experiences in order to grow (8th house).

stellium in third house:

✧˚ · . Stelliums in this house can often indiciate someone who loves to write (songs, plays, poems, etc..). Maybe your someone who loves to learn about different topics and can be a lifelong student, as an example. A lot of your energy in life may be put into being out n about in your hometown (stores, malls, etc..) or meeting with different people, whether that be in person or over the internet since this house also represents the media. Maybe you have a passion for social media and content creation, or it played a significant role in your life. It’s important that you expand yourself by going beyond what’s in your immediate environment (3rd house) and expanding yourself through abroad travel and what is foreign to you (9th).

stellium in fourth house:

✧˚ · . Homebody. Lemme just start off with that hehe. But no, there’s more to that don’t worry. This is the house of emotional comforts and of the physical home + family. It’s all about where you came from and your origin story. A lot of your energy in life may be pulled internally, meaning that you want to focus on what emotionally fulfills you and what helps you feel safe and protected. Your family could play a big role in your life and maybe that’s where the majority of your energy is at too. Maybe you too also crave a solid foundation and/or a strong familial connection. You may want to focus on things that happen in your private life (4th), but it’s also important to build a name for yourself publicly and to go after your calling/vocation in life (10th).

stellium in 5th house:

✧˚ · . Some type of production is essential to your life. It can be your hobbies, like music, crafting, acting, etc.. or maybe children (whether they be your own or someone else’s) have a siginificant impact on your life. This house also represents romance and sex so those may also be important things to you in life. Stelliums in this house often demand attention, leisure and fun throughout the native’s life, and while that may be fortunate it’s important that you also don’t procrastinate too much and still keep up with your responsibilities. I often find that stelliums in this house indicate some sort of talent in the arts which are a big part of the native’s lives. While it’s important to cultivate creativity and fun for yourself (5th house) it’s also important to share that with others and/or to truly pursue your dreams/aspirations (11th house).

stellium in 6th house:

✧˚ · . A lot of people say that natives with a stellium in this house could work in industries that do with service (particularly doctors/nurses) or with animals. This house deals with themes of productivity, “practice makes perfect”, and habits. You might care a lot about your productivity and/or whether you are helpful to others. You could also be very health-oriented and care a lot of fitness or improving your physical state. This could be a rarer manifestation of this stellium in this house, but the 6th house also deals with open enemies (12th house = hidden people) which could be a part of your daily life. Your daily routine is very important to you and you may prefer to keep things tidy and neat. It’s important to focus on daily tasks and routines (6th house) but it is equally important to give yourself rest mentally and/or physically (12th house)

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bisnes-socks · 2 months ago

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i have a lot to say about this one so pack a snack and let's make sex moneyyy

i think this is one of the most openly culture and media (and social media) critical songs he has. i think it's a super daring song that probably makes the likes of certain helsingin sanomat music critics a little bit uncomfortable, because he is spitting facts - and because he has a relationship with sex for show that people for some reason are still quite weird about.

to start a little further back: we all know sex sells. we all know the music industry uses sex to sell their products. but for some reason, in the year of our lord 2024, a musical artist verbally recognising that they are using their sexuality and sexual themes to build their brand is somehow scandalous. it's like.. it's okay to use sex to sell your art, if it's like "accidental" MTV sexuality or like agreeing to looking objectifiable. the media will call you hot and sexy and wow. but if you own your sexuality, make it obvious that yes this is sexual, i'm being very deliberately sexual and i am trying to be sexual..? oh no that won't do! scandal! we've seen it with so many artists, especially female artists. like WAP is a great example! how scandalous that suddenly these women had agency in their own sexuality! but no-one said a word when their sexuality served the usual male gaze agenda. it's like people are so much more comfortable being peeping toms who sexualise and objectify artists when they're not looking, but as soon as the artist does it as part of their whole thing? well now it's inappropriate actually.

he talked about this in a helsingin sanomat interview, saying how he does actually think things revolve too much around sex in the music industry, even though he uses sex and sexual themes himself to sell things as well, and that he sees the irony in saying that. but the difference, in my opinion, is that the way he, or someone like erika vikman for example, is so open and upfront about the sexual themes, that it becomes carnevalistic, it becomes camp. it's not insidiously using sexual and heteronormative objectifying imagery to get people horny. what käärijä does is playful and fun sexuality, and for whatever reason that is so unusual it needs to be talked about separately as something a bit wild and scandalous, and he needs to be asked to explain his actions.

and that's what this song is. he's very clearly saying none of this is accidental. the visuals of his brand, the social media content, the onlyfans thing, none of it is coincidental, accidental or anything other than his perfectly deliberate way of selling sex. and he has talked about these themes before, he has talked about like the rammstein live stuff that inspired him (some of it is pretty hardcore stuff) so to his fans it's nothing surprising that sexual themes are present in the brand and interest him. but he has also talked about how, even if this song is a bit tongue in cheek, he's also serious. and he is right. and for some reason calling people out about the fact that sex makes them buy things, even when it's true, is still.. scandalous somehow.

and he's basically calling people easy lmao. like, i needed to figure out a lil boost to my career and well, i know what will make you throw money at me. and i won't be shy about it either.

i'm getting sidetracked. the song.

and then that is enough to warrant lyrics such as "koko perheen käärijästä koko perheen krapula" meaning "käärijä for the whole family turning into a hangover for the whole family".

but it was all already there! let's not for a second pretend CCC was some sort of family show and a family song. it's not. but people were okay with that, because they could happily confuse the camp and carnevalistic sexuality of käärijä with the campness and carnevalistic nature of eurovision, and because it wasn't more than the suggestive sexual nature of everything else around them. and it was all just fun, when kids came up with their own lyrics to the song because they couldn't understand the references to drinking. so then people took their kids to see him at shows and became scandalised by the adult nature of it all. it's like.. people were fine letting their kids see the everyday media sexuality that we see in every eurovision, fine letting their kids get used to that, and then just sort of didn't think käärijä would be anything different. but he's only different in that in his show and brand, sex and sexuality aren't denied while still blatantly obviously there.

but again, a lot of this is to do with media, and what media normalises and what it doesn't. what it deems newsworthy and what it doesn't.

if in ready to go he's telling haters that i know you want to see me try and fail, maybe even be too embarrassed to try, but baby i'm ready to go, then in sex = money he's saying i know you want to see me naked and i know you want sex from all of this, so here you go, i'll sell you some sex. and then he stands there holding eye contact like what are you going to do with it. what a cunty king.

and there are so many fun and funny little details in this song.

right in the first verse we have "kieli taittuu sköödi föödi." good old sköödi föödi. i tried to find the earliest example of sköödi föödi, but i'm starting to think it might predate the internet, or at least social media. not to bring up köpi kallio again, but they use sköödi föödi a lot in viki ja köpi show, and köpi just happened to tweet about it in 2020, saying he believes sköödi föödi has been around for at least 20 years (someone tried to credit viki and köpi for it). so, what does sköödi föödi mean, you ask. it does not mean anything at all. sköödi föödi is just a sound, a noise you make, when you need it, usually in place of something in a foreign language but not exclusively. in this instance, sköödi föödi is him demonstrating his excellent english skills. sköödi föödi (pronounced almost like a sterotypical tv american would say skirdy-firdy) means nothing and it means everything, whatever you need it to mean.

it is also noteworthy to point out that "kieli taittuu" can be a reference to two different things here. the finnish word kieli means both tongue and language. so he could also be saying that he has a very bendy and flexible tongue, like literally. which, of course, all of europe has already seen. taittua literally means to fold or bend, but it's a common phrase to say, that if you can do something, you bend it (or more like it bends as a result). so literally the line translates to "language/tongue bends sköödi föödi".

the first verse ends in "sekö jos mikä on varma nakki" meaning "that, if anything, is a sure thing". nakki literally means a sausage, a hot dog sausage, weiner sausage, you name it: a small sausage. so translating literally: "that if anything is a sure sausage". it's a common phrase in spoken finnish, nothing unusual about that, but i love that he used it, because it makes the next line hilarious on a first listen, when the chant comes in. so when they start chanting NAK- NAK- i really thought they were gonna shout NAKKI. but no, it is nakuna, naked.

okay still with me? good. let's look at the "tein onlyfans bägin, koko suomen daddy" section next.

i remember when the song came out, people did explain who danny is, but in case anyone missed it, danny is a singer from finland, and he was a MASSIVE star back in the day, especially in the 70's. so to say he is bigger than danny is indeed quite the flex, because danny was like.. the finnish equivalent of elvis, basically. but danny is not just a flex, he turns danny into a clever thematical scheme here (more on thematical schemes in the bananas post, if you're interested). he says "kadulla on kuumaa, ne pyytää mua hätiin" and this is a reference to one of danny's most popular and famous songs, kesäkatu. smart, smart, smart! and then of course "kadulla on puumaa, mut mulla on jo täti" meaning there are cougars on the street, but i already have an aunt. which, that to me reads like both a cunty quip and a himbo line all at once. like shutting down some man wanting to be your daddy by telling him "but i already have a father". i nearly choked laughing the first time i heard the line.

also can i just say, calling himself the daddy of finland? like, thinking about the whole context i talked about at first, how people are comfortable with sexual stuff and sexualising, but not comfortable recognising it or being real about it or celebrating it? yeah knowing all that, he just called himself EVERYONE'S daddy in a song called sex = money, and he's not even wrong 😭

in conclusion: i love this song. and i love the attitude in it. it's like he is looking everyone, from every uncomfortable insecure hetero man, every scandalised parent to every tabloid journalist, straight in the eye and saying "yes, i'm selling sex. why? well i couldn't think of anything else, but then again, why should i? isn't this what you want? this is what you want. i know what you want. i'm your daddy."

like if he truly wanted to, he really could have this country on their knees for him, don't tell me last independence day didn't prove it. as much as he gets crap as well, at the end of the day, he has people under a spell by simply being, well, bigger than danny. and he-man.

now. the placement of the song on the album, right after autiomaa.

i personally don't think that the album builds one cohesive narrative from beginning to end. but i think this can be read two ways: a sad way and an empowering way. the sad way to read it is that he means it when he says he couldn't come up with anything else and his creativity is fried, but sex sells so he does that, and it's a bit mindless. but given the context of what he has had to say about this song, i'm more inclined to read this the empowering way: he has worked on himself and found a way to see things more clearly, and he has found it in himself to even be confrontational about things. the whiplash of the song order i think is more to highlight the fact that autiomaa is a rare glimpse into something different, and now here we go again. to me, sex = money makes autiomaa even more powerful, but autiomaa doesn't change the interpretation of sex = money all that much for me.

you really can't be upset about the song without proving his point. and you can't love the song without proving his point. facts have been spat and points have been proven. absolute king behaviour.

and if you read through this whole thing, i owe you money. cash money, not sex money. well, we'll talk about it.

bonus: i absolutely love that he knows how to say "make some noise" on this track, but continues to say "give me some voice" or some sort of a hybrid word between voice and noise, something like.. woise, at his international shows. the king of in through one ear, out through the other. he, she, noise, voice, he doesn't know the differences and does not care.

bonus bonus for the sad bojere bitches:

second verse: "täl alal ei sua kukaa huomaa" meaning "nobody will notice you in this field (of work)". maybe my brain is rotted but this moment reminds me so much of the famous liverpool bojere lunch date video where bojan tries to parrot jere, who is saying "tääl ollaa nyt, tota" and bojan goes "talalaiteta" and then they both proceed to giggle about it like it's the funniest thing anyone has ever said. "täl alal" goes out to you, bojan titanic.

#käärijä

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pale-opal · 4 months ago

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I Listened to "The Wisdom Saga" and I Have Some Things to Say - Part 1

If you haven't listened to this part of "Epic: the Musical" yet, feel free to click off this post and do that because not only are you doing yourself a disservice, I will also be giving ALL of the spoilers under the cut, and the Epic sagas are best experienced blind. It's free to listen to on YouTube, Spotify, and Amazon Music, and it's also available to buy on iTunes.

Okay. Did you listen to it? You did? Great! Now let's get into it: 1. Legendary- This is my favorite song in the saga. - Telemachus is precious and must be protected at all costs - The "l-l-l-l-legendary" is giving Hamilton (2015), not gonna lie. - I mean that in the best way possible. - Some people have pointed out that Athena's melody can be heard in the background, and we know from past songs that when her theme or ticking sounds can be heard when she's not present in the song, that means that she's just observing to see what's going to happen before getting involved. - And that's a good thing, considering what's about to happen. - But we'll get to that. - I want to talk about this part of the chorus for a second:

"Give me sirens and a cyclops Give me giants and a hydra I know life and fate are scary But I wanna be legendary" - I just think that first line is so ironic because Odysseus fought both sirens and a cyclops. - I also think the giants line is interesting, since Odysseus almost got sent to the Land of the Giants after a certain someone opened the wind bag (*cough cough* Eurylochus *cough cough*). - Now I wanna talk about these lines:

"There are strangers in our halls Trying to win the heart of my mom But she is standing tall 108 old faces of men who call me small They keep taking space and it's not much longer we can stall

Cause they're getting impatient, dangerous tooAnd I would fight them if I was half as strong as you Somebody help me, come and give me the strength Can I do whatever it takes to keep my mom safe?" - While listening to this song, I got reminded of when my 10th grade English teacher covered the original Odyssey.- A phrase she kept using to describe how the suitors were treating Penelope and Telemachus was "eating [them] out of house and home." - To sum up what she meant by that, the suitors are basically taking advantage of the concept "xenia", which is an idea the ancient Greeks had. They believed that visitors were under the protection of Zeus, and that they had to be treated with respect. - Odysseus and his men try to invoke this when they first meet the cyclops. - Because of xenia, Penelope and Telemachus are sort-of "barred" from kicking the suitors out. - And even if they could... there are one-hundred and eight (108) of them. They're horribly outnumbered. They could easily be overpowered. - Now you may be asking yourself: "How come they haven't been overpowered already?" - The original text actually gives us an explanation for that: Penelope started working on what was known as a "funeral shroud" (a fabric a dead person is wrapped up in before being buried) for Odysseus' father. - She told the suitors that she would choose one of them to marry once the shroud was complete. - However, what she DIDN'T tell them was that she was going to undo some of the work each night, thus allowing her to work on the shroud for an indefinite amount of time, or until Odysseus came back. - ...or, at least, that's what would've happened if the suitors didn't find out what she was up to. Hence why their so antsy to find out which one of them she intends to marry:

"Where is he? Where is the man who'll have you to wife? Oh Where is he? Where is the man with whom you'll spend your life? Cause it's been 20 years (20 years) And we still have no king" - And now it's time to talk about the only antagonist in the entirety of "Epic" who is a clear-cut villain with no redeeming qualities: Antinous.- I want this man defenestrated immediately. - You know how Telemachus is a young man who respects women, loves his dad, even though he's never met him, wants his mother to be happy and safe, and also wants all of these sleazy men out of his house? - Yeah, okay, well, Antinous is the complete opposite of him. Just take a look at this interaction between the two of them (cw for implications of SA):

"[ANTINOUS] Boy! When's your tramp of a mother gonna choose a new husband? ... Why don't you open her room so we can have fun with her?

[TELEMACHUS] Don't you dare call my mother a tramp! ...

[ANTINOUS, spoken] I just did! Whatchu gonna do about it, champ?" - And you want to know what Antinous does after saying all of this? - He challenges the son of the woman he supposedly wants to marry, the same son who he sees as a child despite him being twenty (based on "108 old faces of men who call me small" and how he calls Telemachus "boy"), to a fistfight. 2. Little Wolf- This was the song I was the most excited for prior to its release, and I am pleased to say that it does NOT disappoint. - One thing I noticed before the song came out is that Poseidon refers to Odysseus and his crew as a "pack of wolves" in "Ruthlessness". - Considering how animal symbolism is used in this musical, Telemachus is seen as being in the same vein as his father, but is called "little" because he isn't quite on the same level as him... not yet, anyway. - But I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Fight, little wolf, fight Wanna entertain me? Bite, little wolf, bite Let's see how you take this Strike, little wolf, strike Wanna be a man? Then Fight, little wolf, fight, little wolf, fight" - The chorus is literally a bunch of grown-men trying to pressure Telemachus, who they see as a child, mind you, into fighting a man who is not only older than him, but who is also implied to be stronger, too. - They want this boy dead, and that is apparent before they line "die, little wolf, die, little wolf, die" even leaves their mouths. - I can't wait for "King" to come out. I want these posers to get what they deserve. - Oh, and as for Antinous: "You've made your worst mistake here, might be your last one too You'll have run out of bones to break when you and I are through I'll teach you all the lessonsyour daddy never couldThis cruel world doesn't give out presentsjust for being good" - While I do agree that Telemachus needs to become less sheltered, beating him to death is NOT the way to teach him how harsh the world is. That lesson is going to do him no good if he has to die to learn it. - But, of course, Antinous doesn't care about that. He only cares about dealing with the person standing between him and "his" woman. - The further I go into this, the more I want Antinous chucked out of a window. - But it's okay. It's fine, everybody. Because Telemachus' real mentor soon arrives on the scene:

"[ATHENA, spoken]Need some help?

[TELEMACHUS] What's going on here?

[ATHENA] Is your plan to stand around? Cause I suggest you fight back

[TELEMACHUS] I don't know how" - Okay, so two things: 1. Athena being totally down with helping Odysseus' kid despite this being the first time they meet is awesome. 2. Telemachus wants to fight monsters, but he doesn't even know how to properly punch a guy. I love this. He has Odysseus' heart, but not his "mind" so to speak. He wants to do all these serious and impressive things, but when the time comes for him to do so, he hasn't the foggiest idea as to how.

"[ATHENA, spoken] Uppercut him, now.

[TELEMACHUS] Woah, how did I do that? Is time now moving slow?

[ATHENA] No, I just made your thoughts quick" - I'm so glad we get this explanation of how "quick-thought" works! It doesn't slow-down time. It speeds up the mental faculties of the person under its effects, and essentially puts them in a "bubble" where they can interact with the outside world in-real time while perceiving (and acting?) faster than their surroundings (I don't know if Jay explained this anywhere else. If he did, I'm sorry for being redundant). - And then we get these absolutely raw lines from Athena: "I've no respect for bullies Those who impose their will I've seen plenty enough to truly understand this kind of filth Let's teach this dog a lesson In front of all his kind One young wolf has a larger heart than all these men combined" - THIS IS WHAT I MEANT ABOUT THE ANIMAL SYMBOLISM! Dogs are considered by many to be the descendants of wolves. A genetic relative that is not quite as feral or quite as aggressive as a wolf, even if they're wild. And based on how Athena calls the suitors "filth" (ha!) and puts extra emphasis on how wolves are stronger than them, I wouldn't be too surprised if she was talking about domesticated dogs. And that case, they don't stand a chance against - oh, wait. Hold on a second: "[ATHENA, spoken] Ooh, maybe I pushed you a bit too hard!

[TELEMACHUS, spoken] Ow..." - I can totally imagine Telemachus getting a headache or a nosebleed here. It's his first day getting into a fight, and the first time he's experiencing deus ex machina. Ya boy is not qualified for all of this. He needs a break. - Oh, and then we get Antinous being butthurt about Telemachus actually managing to rough him up a little:

"Go back and cry in your corner Make sure your mother hears If she won't choose a man to adorn her We'll bring blood and tears" - Again. Defenestration. It would suit Antinous really well.- The next song is dedicated to Telemachus receiving an answer to this question: "Athena, why did you come to my aid?"

3. We'll Be Fine - I have a confession to make: I thought this song was going to be boring. - I am SO glad I was wrong. - I also thought that this would be a Penelope song. - I was wrong about that too, but I'm sure she'll get her moment eventually. - One thing that this song accomplishes musically is that it combines the melodies of "Warrior of the Mind" and "Legendary" together, making something that sounds new and different. It feels like Athena and Telemachus really see each other as friends, and that Athena felt the same way about Odysseus - she was just to focused on being his mentor to acknowledge that until now. - Oh, and we also find out that Athena has been dealing with some serious guilt since the cyclops argument:

"I had a friend before, and He was a lot like you I helped him fight through war, but He had his demons too And then we grew apart Then his light went dark

And so, I thought Maybe, if I made a different call Maybe if I hadn't missed it all Maybe, he'd be fine Maybe we'd unwind Maybe, if I help another soul Maybe, if I helped you reach your goal Life could be that bright I could sleep at night"

- This part of the song hurts, y'all. - Athena is genuinely convinced that if she had stuck with Odysseus then he would be home safely, and that what happened between them is mostly her fault, even though Odysseus told her to her face that he wanted to be rid of her, too. - AND she's losing sleep over this man? Somebody go get him immediately.- I really want to talk about the lines referring to light for a moment: - When I first heard "Then his light went dark" I thought that meant Athena legitimately thought Odysseus was dead. Which makes the fact that she feels guilty about everything that happened even WORSE. - And then "Life could be that bright" is just her saying that Odysseus made her life better and that she was wrong about not seeing him as a friend, and that friendship is necessary for living a meaningful life. - And you know, that kind of makes me want to grab Odysseus by the shoulders and violently shake him for shouting "YOU'RE ALONE!" to Athena all the way back in "My Goodbye". Like, no she wasn't, Odysseus, she had you. And you had her. And then you both screwed it up by being too stubborn to admit that the other person had a point. Now BOTH of you are sad and lonely. - But again, it's okay. It's fine (pun not intended). Because Telemachus is still here, listening to all of this: "Athena, I don't know who your friend is I don't know what he's like, but My time with you has been splendid The best day of my life Cause I got in a fight, and I didn't die" - He literally has doesn't know who Athena is talking about, and even if he did, it wouldn't matter, because he NEVER MET HIS DAD. - Why is this song so sad? - We're three songs deep, and I am HURT. - And it's just gonna get worse from here. - On a lighter note, Telemachus says that he has really enjoyed hanging out with Athena for the past fifteen (15) minutes, and that this is actually the best day of his life. His reasoning? He survived getting jumped! Hooray! - Wait, what? That's it? That's all took for this to be the best day of his life? Just... just how bad has his life been, until now? - ... - ...hm. "Maybe, if life wasn't spent as planned Maybe, it's time that you lend a hand I don't think he'll mind If not his friend, then mine

[TELEMACHUS & ATHENA] Maybe, to fall is to learn one way Maybe, it's all gonna turn out great I know we'll be fine I know it's light you'll find" - Telemachus offers to be Athena's friend, while also telling her that it's okay for her to move on from Odysseus. - And he still doesn't know that he's talking about his dad, I can't-- "To fall is to learn one way" = "Sometimes it's okay to learn things the hard way." - Athena had to learn that friendship was something worth pursuing with others by losing the first friend she ever had, and Telemachus had to learn to stand up for himself and come out the sheltered life he's been living by getting into a fistfight. - Light is being used as a metaphor for happiness, and that makes me happy. Because Telemachus and Athena needed a friends, and they have each other now. I love that for them. - This is also the point where the "Legendary" and "Warrior of the Mind" melodies combine. I know I said earlier that was a representation of how Athena and Telemachus friendship was forming, but I would like to off this interpretation as well: - Putting "Warrior of the Mind" and "Legendary" on the same level as each other musically could be a thematic way of saying that Telemachus is a "warrior of the mind", as it were. However, since I did say that Telemachus doesn't have Odysseus "mind" before, I would like to elaborate and say that in this instance, Telemachus is being considered to be an equal to his father due to his emotional intelligence. What he lacks for in book-smarts, he makes up for in heart.

Unfortunately, my complete thoughts on this particular saga are too long for tumblr to allow as one post, so I'll have to post a part 2 later today. We'll be covering "Love in Paradise" and "God Games" then. Furthermore, please do not confuse me talking trash about any of the characters or wanting to see them face consequences for their actions as me speaking poorly of or wishing harm upon any of the actors or crew for "Epic" or any other real people, because that is not what I am doing. I hold great respect for the "Epic" team, and I am eager to see what they do in the future. That's all I can say for now. I'll see you all in a few hours with part 2. Update: Part 2 can be found here.

#cw: sa mention #cw: implied attempted sa #epic the wisdom saga #epic the musical #telemachus #antinous #odysseus #athena deity #lyric analysis #essay #long post #defenestration #opal speaks #may God bless you all

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a-supernatural-writer · 1 year ago

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Rusted Orange Leaves

Poly Lost Boys x gender neutral reader

It's been awhile! I am so sorry for being gone so long. Ever since graduating life has been sort of a roller coaster. Working full time along with trying to figure out student loans has been tough.

I wanted to start writing again and get back into The Lost Boys with a bit of a self indulgent fic. For context I recently lost my Nana (grandmother) a couple weeks ago and its been tough to say the very least. She was not only my grandmother but she was another mother to me and in this fic there is a lot of things that are actual things that my Nana and I would do together. Not only that but this is also a fic for anyone who might've lost there own grandmother or even a grandparent in general who you had a very close connection with.

Happy fall to all of you and I am very excited to write for one of my favorite seasons of the year. Get ready for some spooky, Halloween fun and in general fall themed fluff.

Word Count: 1,840

The smell of pumpkin and cinnamon filled David’s noise as he walked into a place that he called a second home. Music that he remembered coming out during the time of the 1910’s and 20’s played at a reasonable volume. Being loud enough for anyone to enjoy but just low enough that people could talk comfortably to each other without raising their voice.

He smiled softly as he walked deeper into the house and caught sight of you doing your thing around the kitchen.

You were making your grandmother’s infamous great pumpkin cookies that she made every year around the fall holidays. You smiled a little though that smile didn’t quite reach your eyes as you mixed in the chocolate morsels that went in the cookies.

But now these cookies were to be made by you and other members of your family since your grandmother unfortunately passed away not even a month ago in September, just before the leaves started to turn.

A part of you was sentimental; making her baked goods and other recipes she taught you ever since you were little. You and your mother were really the only two who she taught her recipes to, leaving it to the both of you to teach the rest of the family.

You had her cookies on your list along with her pumpkin and apple pie and the traditional fall soups she made from scratch. You also had some of your own recipes you’ve been wanting to make.

With it being the beginning of October, the leaves turning their beautiful vibrant colors, you turned on the music that your grandparents played and had been going at it in the kitchen since the early hours of the morning.

You were so engrossed in your activity that you didn’t notice your boyfriend David walk into your home. You had given him a key a while ago, turning your home into his home as well… along with your other three boyfriends; Dwayne, Marko and Paul.

David had gotten there before any of the boys could. He knew that you were dealing with your grief in your own way. You had been having your days where certain sounds, images and even scents sent you into a crying mess. Hell, even before your grandmother passed away, you got so upset because a candle you bought smelt like her.

You wanted to bask in her scent forever. Her smell gave you comfort and it scared you that you could never live in it again so you haven’t even lit it since her passing. Afraid to lose it and never smell it again.

David knew that your grandparents weren’t just that, they were another set of parents; a mother and father to you. David knew how much your grandmother loved you. He and the boys got to spend some time with her and she talked about you so much and always wanted to make sure that you were taken care of. You were her first grandchild and she loved you like you were her own.

Your grandmother even had them tear up, making them promise her that they would love you and make sure that you would always be happy and live your life. And they promised that.

You eyed the amount of batter in your mixing bowl, finally noticing David when he walked into the kitchen, “Hey.” You said quietly, not fully trusting your feelings in that moment. You wanted to cry, but at the same time, you were feeling the most comfortable since her passing.

David smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss on your temple, “Hey. I can see you’ve been busy.”

You nodded, leaning into him, “I made some apple turnovers for the first time. I think they came out really good. I have another batch in the oven and pumpkin soup is simmering on the stove… think it’s too much?”

David shook his head, “Nope. I think it’s perfect. Do you need any help?” David didn’t think it was too much. If anything with how much the four of them loved your food, it could never be enough. And who was he to stop you from cooking and baking, this was your way of coping, he didn’t want to stop you from healing.

You felt warm and fuzzy when he offered to help. Cooking with David was always wonderful. It surprised you just how much he enjoyed doing the activity with you. It warmed your heart even more at the idea that you were gonna teach him your grandmother’s recipes.

“Yeah, I can teach you her pumpkin pie and I wanted to make her chicken pot pie to go with the soup.” You could help but get excited as you explained what you wanted to make.

David just smiled, taking off his coat and gloves, grabbing a basic brown waist apron that was hanging on a hook in your kitchen, matching your own. You got one for him after he complained a little by getting flour and food particles on his pants one night.

He tied it around his waist and grabbed the kitchenware he needed and the ingredients that he needed. He followed your instructions as you did your own thing, chopping whatever vegetables and poultry needed for the chicken pot pie.

Of course, during the longest part of cooking, prep work, did the others file into your home.

Paul came in smiling at the scene before him. He never in his life thought he would see David doing such a domestic thing in his life, but then again, he didn’t think that for himself either. “Do we have to kiss the cooks?” Paul teased before giving you a kiss on the lips, tasting pumpkin and chocolate on your tongue as he gave you a stomach fluttering deep kiss that held nothing but love with no lust behind it. Just pure love.

David rolled his eyes when Paul gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek to tease the bleach blonde. “Smells great in here.”

Paul honestly loved it when the home smelled like this. Your home for him was a place of comfort. A place for him to unwind and just relax. That’s what made you very similar to your grandmother. Both of you made your homes feel like a home.

He always thought your grandmother was the definition of a grandmother. A woman with a heart of gold and a pure soul. Always making sure everyone was taken care of. The day she passed was a sad one.

He was frozen in fear the moment the news settled in for you. He had never seen someone feel so much pain that wasn’t physical. He’d seen you sob your heart out before. But seeing your face turn into anguish and cry out so loudly and so heart broken, truly shook him to his core.

Since then he’s been treating you much more softly. It wasn’t per your request, but something in him changed and he wanted to show you just how much he cherished you. It’s not like he didn’t already, he just had a much more lustful and hornier way of going about it.

Marko was next to walk in, carrying a small brown bag in his hand and smiled once he saw you spreading out the cookie batter on the pan, “Are those the pumpkin cookies you were talking about?”

Marko softly grabbed your chin and placed a short kiss on each of your cheeks before placing one on your lips.

You giggled as Marko gently nipped at your lip, “Yes. I’m gonna bake them once the rest of the apple turnovers are done… what did you get?”

Marko smiled as he carefully pulled out two tea cups with saucers attached to them. One design to be like fall colored leaves and the other in the shape of a pumpkin with leaves. You cooed at the teacups, wanting to hold them but didn’t want to dirty them with the batter on your hands.

“Oh, Marko. They’re so cute.” You cooed softly. Marko felt his chest swell with pride as he got you a gift that made your eyes sparkle. And he knew that tone in your voice. You only talk that way when you truly love something.

“I’ll go put them with the rest of your collection.” He took the teacups and placed them in a wooden cupboard with glass that you used as a display case for your teacups that you pulled out in rotation to use. You had an addition to mugs and teacups and you had an ever growing collection that weren’t just sitting on a shelf but were used for different times throughout the year.

Marko grinned to himself. He had been trying his best to make you smile recently. Little gifts and outings have been his way to do just that. Even though you’ve told him multiple times that he didn’t need to buy you any gifts, he wanted to. He loved seeing your eyes shine with happiness and he wanted to treat you. You’ve been going through your emotions and even your thoughts for the most part alone.

You didn’t want to talk to your family much about how you were feeling, afraid of judgment on some weird level. You were afraid that your family wasn’t going to understand how you felt and the way you were going through your grieving process.

After placing the teacups in the case, he took one of the apple turnovers you already made and took a bite of it, groaning at how good they were. “These are banging.” He comments. Paul joined in and grabbed one of his own, enjoying the freshly baked dessert.

Dwayne was the last to walk in. Seeing you doing something that you love and glowing, his heart, if it could, would’ve fluttered. Without a word, Dwayne came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaned down placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re not pushing yourself, are you?”

You shook your head, done with placing the batter on the pans, “No. I’ve been taking breaks here and there throughout the day.”

Dwayne hummed, squeezing your waist a little, “Good.”

He didn’t want you overworking yourself too much, even if it was doing something you loved. Sometimes, Dwayne would just make sure that you took time to rest and relax. He knew how hard the past couple weeks have been for you. If the nights of you crying in his arms didn’t tip him off, then you being extra clinging to them lately did.

You moved to go wash your hands, Dwayne still having a grip on you and moving with you, not wanting to let go yet.

You chuckled, and after you dried off your hands, you reached up and tangled your fingers through his hair. Feeling the utmost content in this moment.

Out of all the days that have gone by in the past couple weeks, for once you felt at ease.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #poly lost boys #poly lost boys x reader #gender neutral reader #david x reader #paul x reader #marko x reader #dwayne x reader

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justjams2003 · 1 year ago

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Fast Pace-2

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic.Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious

Word count: 2,8k

Masterlist

Part 1~Part 3

"What? Am I hearing this right? The Carlos Sainz, famous Ferrari Formula One driver approached you, in an alleyway, during your smoke break and paid you three hundred euros to hide in a cramped bathroom with you.” One of your best friends from high school screams into your ear. You can’t help but cringe, hearing exactly just how famous he is. You blow the smoke from your cigarette and gaze out across your balcony.

You wish you could say the view is beautiful, with the Eiffel Tower in the background with music of the people in the background. It’s none of that though. The view is another apartment block, and you so wished the man on the balcony would close the curtains. You avoid the balcony in the fear of getting treated to a view of his wrinkled body. How you wish you didn’t have to deal with the gross apartment building.

“Um...Yes...?” You reply, not really sure what to say. “Not only that, Jasmine, but he then gave her his number and said he would make sure he would see her again!” Your other best friend, Ilsa, on the group call squeals out. You facepalm, knowing they can’t see you, but still, your embarrassment is uncontainable. “What are you going to say?” Jas asks, you can already hear her plotting.

Your silence says a thousand words. “You are going to text him, right?” Ilsa clarifies and they go quiet only to hear your sigh. “What would I say? Hi, mister million-dollar man, I really liked being cramped in a bathroom with you, and would love to do it again!” You scoff at the ridiculousness of it all and take another puff from your cig. “I mean...” Jas says but you quickly shoot the idea down.

“Okay, okay, how about this? Address the elephant in the room. Tell him you googled him and then ask him what exactly he wants with you.” Ilsa suggests and it actually doesn’t sound that bad. Your stomach rumbles and as you open the fridge door you can’t help but sigh. Some old cabbage, one egg and a pack of cheap tomato sauce. Another hungry night.

“Yeah, so that you can be prepared if he just wants a quick fuck!” Jas calls out and again you can’t help but cringe. “Jasmine!” You yell out, glad they can’t see you blush. Even that wouldn’t be so bad. It’s been weeks since someone touched you with any sort of kind intent. Much less how close you two were today.

You’d already given the full three hundred euros to your landlord. He just scowled asking where the rest of it is. Not to mention, the electricity is threatening to shut off. Along with the student loans, water bills, phone bills, and insurance, everything is piling up and you feel like you can’t pick up enough shifts to survive.

I hear her groan, “Come on, Y/N, this could be a really great opportunity for you.” This time it’s Ilsa encouraging you. She’s right, maybe a little distraction from life is just what you need. Not to mention you’d do anything to look at that handsome face of his one more time. The photos and videos online don’t even come close. He’s so much more even just being near him makes you want to beg him to hold you.

“Fine, but if he gave me a fake number, I’ll ignore you guys for a week.” It’s an empty threat as always. “Yes, of course, as expected.” Jas’ voice is dripping in sarcasm. “I’ve got to go, je vous aime les gars, au revoir.” Ilsa says goodbye, and with that, the call ends. Dinner, wouldn’t that be such a good idea? You open your banking up only to see but a meek two hundred left for the end of the month.

While you’re on your phone, you might as well text him...right?

Y/N: I assume you wanted me to google you when you gave me your real name?

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: And, do I live up to the pictures?

Y/N: No, you’re much shorter in real life

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: A dagger in my heart!

Y/N: 😝

Y/N: I’m glad you didn’t give me a fake number then. But I can’t help but ask what exactly it is you want with me?

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: How about this: I’ll explain it all to you on our first date

Y/N: You intrigue me...

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: When do you get off from work, tomorrow?

Y/N: I work the morning, until lunch tomorrow. So I’m free from 16:00

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: Send me your address, and I’ll pick you up at 18:00. Wear something nice.

What on earth am I thinking? He could kidnap me! And yet you find yourself in front of your closet picking the one nice dress you bought for your first interview. It’s a simple black, form-fitting on the top but flares at the bottom with frills on the sleeves. It looks so boring to wear on a date with someone like him, but it’s all you have.

Along with the only heels you have, once more plain black chunky pumps. Your hair lays right below your shoulders in your natural waves and curls.

You can’t help but groan at your situation and throw a pack of cigarettes into your handbag. It’s a bad habit, you know and everyone around you has told you so many times to stop. But it’s so hard to when living in France and not only that it’s the only thing that seems to help.

You finish it off with a red lip, hoping to add a slight bit of colour to the dull outfit. Not that you have much time to think of something else, at exactly six, there is a knock on the door. With your heart in your ears, you open the door to Carlos holding a bouquet of pink tulips.

Not only that but he looks ravishing in black dress pants and a dress shirt, but of course with the sleeves rolled up. You bite your lip, already wanting to jump his bones.

That tan skin of his has you imagining him, shirtless under the hot summer sun on a Mediterranean beach somewhere. Not only that but his hair seems to fall perfectly in place. So soft and silky and voluminous. Your hand twitches, wanting to rake through his inky black strands and then, of course, ask him about his hair-care routine.

“How did you know these are my favourites?” You ask, walking inside and placing them in the sink before returning to him. He shrugs, “I have my ways. But enough about that. Querida, you look enchanting.” He takes your hand and guides you to a spin, showing off all of you. Your dress flows and his touch is like fire lighting in your body.

“Really? I hope it’s fancy enough, it’s all I own, and I don’t really have the money to buy something right now.” You say with a blush coating your cheeks. Why would you tell him that? Now he’s going to think you want him to buy you a new dress. Or maybe you’re only going on the date because you know who he is.

“Of course, niña bonita, I’m honoured to have such a pretty lady on my arm.” He then takes your hand and helps you down the stairs. And his words cause a blush on the tips of your ears. He helps you all the way to his fire-red Ferrari. “Woah....” You can’t help but utter out, you’ve never been so close to such an expensive car and the fear of breaking it looms in the back of your mind.

“You like, niña bonita? Comes with the job, of course.” He winks and then opens the door for you, which of course opens upwards. You can’t help but let out a playful scoff, “Duh, of course!” He chuckles at your reaction. “You must tell me if I’m going too fast, no? I like speed of course.” His wink shoots electricity through your skin, not only that but that breath taking smile of his.

You don’t have a licence, you never needed one living in France all your life. Even in the smaller town where you grew up, you could walk everywhere. And yet the way he speeds down the freeway causes a thrill to tickle your toes.

Every time he switches the gears, his forearm muscles flex and you have to control yourself. Not to mention, he doesn’t even have road rage, every move, every turn, every gear shift is as smooth as can be.

If it wasn’t for your culinary degree you’re certain you wouldn’t have understood anything on the menu. Even so, you’d been eyeing this place for a while and some of them you’re still unsure how to pronounce. What shocks you the most is the prices, some things on the menu are half the price of your rent. “What do you think of getting?” He asks, leaning back in his seat. “Um...the breadsticks?” He looks over his menu and raises his brow.

“The breadsticks are free?” He clarifies, those luscious brows of his furrow in confusion and you nod with a smile. You try not to show him how nervous a fancy place like this makes you. And also how you yearn to be at home in a place like this. “Yes.” He sighs, “Niña terca, I am paying, pick what you want.” That actually makes you feel even worse.

“Oh, no, it’s alright you don’t have to. I brought my wallet.” You reply, clutching your purse as a reminder. “It is not up for discussion.” He replies, going back to the wine list he’s holding. The guilt shoots through you. You desperately need to accept the money but stil your mother’s manners creep up on you. “Then the...salad.” He rolls his eyes and takes your menu and closes it for you.

You go to protest, but he calls over the waiter before you can. “The lady will have the Salmon Meuniere and I shall have the steak. With the Chilled Pinot Noir.” Again, he chooses your favourite option. “How did you....” As if he knows exactly what you’re about to ask, he just shrugs, “We must have similar taste.”

The fact of these two choices being so similar doesn’t make you suspicion. Instead, it makes you feel warm and at home almost. How similar are you two already, and how much more can fall into place? You eye him, raising your brow as he too studies you. “What is it, estimada. You want to say something.” He guides with his hand to open up the conversation.

“How do you know?” You ask, in awe of how much detail he sees. He chuckles and then leans forward and smooths out the area around your eyes by your temples. “You get this crinkle, when you are holding something back. I noticed it yesterday.” You can’t help but blush and cover your face.

“It’s my job, estimada. To notice the small things, in the car, in the track, in the ladies I like.” His words are smooth like butter and those dark eyes of his stare you down.

The waiter comes and pours your wine and places down your food. You take a sip from the cool beverage. “You owe me an explanation.” You shrug, the only response you give. Not trusting your throat. His jaw locks tight and he leans in a bit closer to you. He bites down on the juicy steak and the way his jaw muscle flexes causes obscene thoughts to fly through you.

“What I tell you next is not to be known by anyone besides you and me. Let’s put it like so, my managers believe that I should, how you say, casarse ya.” He switches to Spanish so easily. You have no idea what he said but merely nod along. All while savouring the taste of the perfectly cooked salmon and expensive wine that pairs so well.

“I turn 34 next year, one of the oldest on the grid. They believe that I should stop wasting my time and just settle down already. My publicist also believes it would get more sponsors and boost my public image. So, I am coming to you with an offer.” I raise my brow; I knew this would be too good to be true.

I should have known that someone like him wouldn’t bother getting close to someone like me. Clearly only there to entertain the people as always. Does he want pity points from his fans? Embracing a poor Frenchwoman from the slums. Doing some sort of charity work? I cross my arms and lean back; I can tell that he sees me retracting from the conversation entirely.

But still, I allow him to continue. “I will pay you, any amount you wish, shopping, jewels, vacations, even something more practical like the rent or student bills. In return, you pretend to be my long-term girlfriend. You come with me to the races, show up in the paddock, and tag along in interviews. The whole deal.” He bites those plump lips of his and now you wish he’d be more hideous.

For once he actually looks a bit nervous. You can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at this. “So...like a sugar daddy situation...?” He senses your resentment towards the idea and is careful to reply. “I suppose so,” his eyes seem to panic and you can’t believe your ears.

You grab your purse, “I can’t believe you, Carlos! I thought I’d finally met a decent well-off guy, but no. Ces foutus garçons. Je ne peux jamais faire confiance aux hommes. Jamais!”

You can’t help but switch to your native language. The translator in your mind fails due to your anger and you can feel tears prick in the walls of your eyes. With your purse in hand, you push your seat back and in a rage go to leave. But suddenly you’re forced back down onto your chair by Carlos’ firm grasp on your wrist.

“¡Siéntate, niña testaruda, y escucha!” His translator too, is out the window. You pout and cross your arms, shocked at his audacity. “Listen here, and listen well, little girl, because I can clearly see you are in desperate need of some discipline. Mocoso.” He leans over you and the way he speaks with such a demanding voice makes your core ache. And yet you can’t help but want to defy him more.

He sits down again but is clearly ready to catch again if needed. He then grabs you by the chin and makes sure you look him into those swirling brown eyes. So dangerous and ready to attack if need be. “I can see it in your eyes, dollface. I can see it in the way you eye the Porche that passes, the Louis Vuitton handbag in the window and the most expensive item on the menu.”

Has your eye really been wandering so much? Or is his attention to detail so fine-tuned? If it weren’t for his hand clasping your chin, you’d long since would’ve looked away. “You have champagne taste and I’m giving you the whole vineyard. Don’t make another stupid choice and accept the offer. I won’t ask again.”

His voice is strong and commanding and the way he speaks makes you want to get down on your knees and open your mouth for him. He lets go of your jaw, allowing you to speak. “And if I want something more?” You ask and can’t help but dial up the charm fluttering your dark lashes. He smirks watching you go from bratty to begging.

“I can feel the chemistry too, estimada and I can see the need burning behind those eyes of yours. If this were to become something more, then so be it. And if you want this to be a quick fling and your intro into the limelight, then so be it. And if you want it to only be an exchange of money and appearance, so be it too.” He shrugs, watching your reaction to each option.

Then he turns serious again. “That all can be decided later. What must be decided now, is whether you’ll join me or not. I must apologize that I can’t give you much time to think about it, I have an early flight tomorrow. You’ll have to join me.” I furrow my brows, I thought he had the whole week? Anyways a choice must be made....

My taglist is open! If you wish to be tagged in this story alone, please comment or reblog with the words 'tag'. And if you wish to be tagged in all my posts please comment or reblog with the words 'tag all'.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #scuderia ferrari #sugar daddy!Carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #carlos sainz smut

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alastheswarmleaderhasescaped · 9 months ago

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BIONICLE music fans, I need your help

Remember that I once wrote a funky BIONICLE Suite using themes from multiple movies/games etc., for an assignment? If not, it's here:

youtube

(here is the post on my dedicated music blog @transcriptions-of-unknown-music btw)

This suite is very dear to me: I scored top marks in my Arranging class with it, and later won a conducting audition with it. And now, in about a year or so, I will be getting the chance to perform it with a professional symphony orchestra. Like a full orchestra instead of the weird ensemble it was originally written for.

BUT

I need to reinstrumentate it, of course, but that also means that I can update it. The original assignment had a time limit of four minutes; this time I don't have that restriction, so I can basically do whatever the fuck I want.

And this is where I need the fandom's help.

I have a pretty solid base idea of what to do with it, but I want to put in as many nods to the width of BIONICLE as possible. The original suite was based on the music of the first three movies with motifs from mostly the MNOGs thrown in, because those are what mostly marked my personal BIONICLE experience, but BIONICLE is more than that. It's also the GBA games, the console games, the songs, the commercials, the online episodes, the later flash games, the Piraka rap, the singing squid, and so on. Which brings me to what I need you all for:

Please let me know your favourite BIONICLE music!

It could be literally anything; from an entire game soundtrack to just the drum rhythm during one specific section of a game. I'd love to know what BIONICLE music you love or is important to you!

What will I do with this information?

Currently I'm already working on gathering motifs and soundtracks into one musical book, transcribing them into notes and bringing them down to their core elements. This will serve as my vocabulary, of sorts: if I have a collection of themes at my disposal, it will be much easier to see if and how they fit together.

Here is an example of a piece from the Templar episodes that I 'collected': (it sounds off because it's MIDI, but what I did here was write down the actual notes so I can transcribe it for other musicians)

youtube

Please don't hesitate to let me know your favourite BIONICLE music (and also feel free to tell why a certain piece is important to you)! There is no time limit to this; you may always reblog or reply to this post, and my ask box is also open!

Hope you all can help me make this a real community thing, showing our Unity!

#bionicle #lego bionicle #mnog #mnog ii #Youtube

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renlyslittlerose · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 30 - Under-Negotiated / Lingerie

For @tideswept ~ 💗

Under the Guise - 3,476 Rating: E Content: Established Relationship / Explicit Sexual Content / Lingerie / Anakin Skywalker Wears Lingerie / Oral Sex / Dry Humping / Under-negotiated Kink / Basically Anakin surprises Obi-Wan / Mild Feminization / Dirty Talk

---

After a decade of living, training, and working alongside Obi-Wan, Anakin was fairly certain he knew everything there was to know about his Master. He knew that he preferred green tea over black, enjoyed grounded non-fiction over anything fantastical, overheated quickly but never seemed to get cold, and hated the taste of a particular green herb from Kashyyyk that he insisted tasted like soap. He disliked the initial burst into light speed, preferred opera to musicals, and could knock a man flat on his back with a single punch.

And he liked when Anakin sat on his lap, adored the scent of Anakin’s inner thighs after they’d fucked, and curled his toes and babbled like a mad-man when Anakin nuzzled the space just behind his ear.

Anakin knew everything.

Which was why it came as a surprise when he ‘accidentally’ stumbled upon a hidden folder in Obi-Wan’s datapad that contained multiple images of beautiful men in silk lingerie.

They were mixed in with other images of young men and women in varying states of undress, nothing too out of the ordinary save for the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi had a smutty picture collection on his data-pad. But there was definitely a theme; multiple men in different sorts of lingerie, the silk tight along the swells of their asses and the bulge of their cocks, some with bras that held tight against their broad, flat chests.

As soon as Anakin had shed his shock and quelled his jealousy, he came to the realization that he had to do something about this newfound knowledge.

Obi-Wan would never admit to it, of course, even when provided with the clear evidence. He’d try to turn things around and accuse Anakin of snooping in things he shouldn’t have been, which Anakin would have agreed with were it not for the fact that Obi-Wan was supposed to share everything with him. They were a team - the team - and they shouldn’t keep secrets from one another.

But Anakin couldn’t let this go. He refused to. Obi-Wan having a thing for men in lingerie made from women both amused and excited Anakin, the thought of surprising him with his own pair of frilly underwear too good to pass up.

It could backfire. In fact, it probably would backfire. Anakin would find a way to mess it up. He may have been graceful on the combat field, a savant when it came to communing with the Force, and the supposed Chosen One, but where he excelled at physical prowess he lacked in social graces. He said the wrong things, looked at people the wrong way, engaged with his emotions in the wrong way.

But he had to do this, even if Obi-Wan kicked his teeth in after he found out how he knew about his obsession with silk panties.

XXX

He’d gone to Padmé for help, of course. Next on the list of no social abilities came Anakin’s ineptitude at shopping for clothes. He tried to keep his reasons for needing lingerie vague but Padmé immediately sniffed him out, her smile sharp and dragged him to her favourite shop in the upper levels of Coruscant. He followed behind her as she plucked various pieces from the curated shelves, picking different colours and motifs while deliberately avoiding the blacks and dark greys.

‘If we’re doing this, I’m going to get you into some colour for a change,’ she said as she eyed a bra the colour of sea-foam.

She ended up buying everything she picked out without having Anakin try them on, knowing that Anakin was quickly reaching his capacity for embarrassment. Of course her charity wasn’t entirely altruistic, and when they arrived back at her apartment she made him show off his new collection.

Anakin would be lying if he said the silk didn’t feel nice, and he’d also be lying if he said he didn’t like the look of the fabric and tight banding wrapped around his limbs and chest, muscles flexing beneath the soft material, a beautiful contrast that made Anakin feel… well, pretty. Padmé seemed to agree, appropriately praising him any time he came out with a new set of lingerie. Though her praises quickly turned into critiques of the lingerie themselves as she pushed things down and raised other things, removed garters and snipped off bows, appreciated one colour before decrying the next.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of stuffing his cock into a variety of tiny panties, they agreed on a set.

It was a dark red and made of silk and lace, the colour bringing out the golden copper tones of his skin and hair - or so Padmé claimed. The panties covered the swell of Anakin’s length and tucked tight beneath the curve of his ass, while the banding was pretty lace that mimicked a rose garden, flowers and vines framing his iliac crest, as well as plunging down the back to barely cover the top of Anakin’s cheeks. Garters hung down his thighs, unattached and loose flowing, but Padmé assured Anakin that stockings would be a little too much.

At least for this go-round.

The bra was made just out of the lace material, the flowers stretched out along his pecks, shifting and warping with each deep breath Anakin took. The straps cut into the meat of his shoulders but Padmé insisted it was a good look, his masculine stature contrasting with the feminine lingerie - a contrast that Padmé insisted was the main appeal. The material barely hid Anakin’s nipples, the pink nipple and dusty areola visible beneath the dark red material, catching Anakin’s attention as he admired himself in the mirror. He was both hidden and exposed, on full-display and yet still teasing.

Maybe there was something to it all.

XXX

He had to wait a few weeks before he could spring his trap. Obi-Wan had been sent away on a diplomatic mission to one of the Republican planets in a bid to prevent them from switching sides. It was a long and meandering time, Obi-Wan popping into their holo-calls with a tense grimace on his lips and a deep-set glower that swallowed up the twinkle in his eyes. When he finally did return all he wanted to do was sleep and relax, and so Anakin kept the panties and bra tucked away beneath his bed until Obi-Wan’s mood sweetened and the light in his eyes returned.

It was the fourth day back that Anakin put his plan into action.

Dressed in nothing but the lingerie he waited in Obi-Wan’s quarters, playing with the garter wrapped tight around his thigh as he stared at the door. He’d tried out a variety of poses over the course of the last ten minutes, at first lying on his stomach with his legs kicked up, before he spread out on his back, legs draped open and hands hung nonchalant over his head. Neither felt very honest.

It was, of course, when Anakin was halfway into a new pose, one foot hooked on to the side of the mattress while the other was planted on the floor, hands on his hips and expression more of a glower than a smile, that Obi-Wan stepped into his room.

“Anakin, I didn’t expect you to—”

Obi-Wan’s words died on his lips the moment he saw Anakin, his satchel full of datapads dropping to the floor with a clatter.

Forced to keep the pose he didn’t really like, Anakin cocked his hip out and smiled tensely at Obi-Wan. “Hey.” He almost added ‘sailor’ at the end, but decided against it. He felt ridiculous enough as it was.

Obi-Wan continued to stare at Anakin with wide-eyes, his mouth hung slack but with no words coming out, his tongue uncharacteristically tied. Anakin watched as a blush spread out across his cheeks and down his neck before it was covered up by his robes. Something pulsed in their bond, deep and heavy, and Anakin swallowed it down.

“Do you like it?” Anakin asked, suddenly unsure of everything. He’d never actually asked Obi-Wan if this was what he wanted.

What if it was all just an idle fantasy that he never actually wanted to experience, and that the reality was a poor substitute for Obi-Wan’s vivid and debauched imagination? Or what if Obi-Wan didn’t like Anakin in lingerie, preferring the models to his attempt? Or maybe he didn’t like the lingerie itself? Or perhaps the colour?

Obi-Wan remained silent, his gaze caught on Anakin’s groin, eyes dark.

“Talk to me, Obi-Wan, because you’re kind of—”

Obi-Wan surged forward then, quick like he was on the battlefield, and Anakin only had time to brace for impact before Obi-Wan was tackling him down onto the bed. He hit the mattress with a grunt, and let out a bark of surprise that was quickly swallowed up by Obi-Wan. His lips were hot, his pressure intense, tongue slick along the seam of Anakin’s lips as he immediately turned their embrace into something desperate and messy.

So maybe he didn’t entirely hate the colour. That was a relief.

Arching up into Obi-Wan’s desperate touch, Anakin groaned into the kiss as Obi-Wan started kneading his pecs, sliding the rough lace across his nipples, his skin breaking out into little bumps. Obi-Wan whimpered as they kissed, the sound unfamiliar and terribly arousing, sinking deep into Anakin’s groin as he pushed up and slid the silk material against the rough cotton of Obi-Wan’s robes.

“Force, Anakin,” Obi-Wan gasped as he finally pulled apart. His brows were furrowed, eyes already cloudy with lust, lips bright pink and shimmering with spit. He looked like desperation incarnate, already so pulled apart and undone.

The sight pleased Anakin, and he tilted his head to the side and draped his arms above his head, fingers tangling together as he flexed his muscles slightly. “Like what you see?”

Obi-Wan sat up slightly, his hands still firm along Anakin’s chest, weight steady as he admired Anakin. His eyes felt like fire, gaze picking and pulling Anakin apart, his grip tight along his pecs to the point where it almost hurt. Anakin moaned beneath him and arched up into the weight, desperate to feel all of it. Finally Obi-Wan relented with his grip, one hand sliding down to cup the side of his chest, fingers petting the silk that wrapped around his ribs, while the other slid beneath the strap on his shoulder, the rough brush of Obi-Wan’s knuckles pleasing.

“You’re a vision,” Obi-Wan said, his attention sliding back up to Anakin.

Their eyes locked, and Anakin tilted his chin slightly, goading Obi-Wan on to take more of him. Shifting his hips, he dragged Obi-Wan’s gaze back down lower, his eyes wandering down the plains of his stomach and further still. Obi-Wan’s weight shifted back so he was resting on Anakin’s thighs, exposing his clothed groin to him.

Obi-Wan moaned, his brows furrowing once again as he took in Anakin’s barely covered cock. The silk was already straining to contain him, the front stained with precome, Anakin already leaking profusely.

“You’re so wet, darling. Already sullying your panties with your need,” Obi-Wan tutted.

Anakin dropped his hands down to Obi-Wan’s thighs as they framed his own, squeezing the clothed muscles, making the corners of Obi-Wan’s jaw twitch. “Clean it up, then…”

Obi-Wan let out a soft growl and stood with the same abruptness he’d tackled Anakin earlier. Anakin watched with some amusement as Obi-Wan undressed, hands scrambling around his robes and belt, tossing them around the room. His boots almost sent him into a rage, a slurry of little swears slipping past his lips in his crisp Coruscantian accent, and Anakin almost took pity on him before he got the zippers undone himself and tossed his boots away.

Fully nude he turned back to Anakin, his cock thick and hard between his legs, bouncing slightly with each laboured breath. Anakin had never seen him quiet as undone as he was now, and he soaked in the vision as he played with one of the garters idly, his legs falling open to welcome Obi-Wan in. Obi-Wan accepted the invitation immediately, dropping down onto the bed between Anakin’s legs, cock pressed into the bedding as he hooked Anakin’s legs over his shoulders and immediately nuzzled his clothed taint.

Anakin let out a moan and arched back, fingers tangling in Obi-Wan’s hair as he dragged him closer and rubbed his silk-covered groin across Obi-Wan’s face. His breath was hot, the bridge of his nose pushing against Anakin’s balls, tongue sliding out to press against silk and skin. Obi-Wan moaned again, pitiful and delicious, and Anakin hooked his ankles together and held.

Kissing along his taint and licking the insides of his thighs, Obi-Wan soaked the material in quick order before raising his head up. One of Anakin’s balls had slipped out from the banding the harder he got, his cock pushing the material away, exposing him with each flutter of his heart and surge of blood through his veins. Obi-Wan gave Anakin little time to compose himself before he sucked at the head of his cock, licking the silk, making it wet with his spit.

The sensation of the soft silk combined with the pressure of Obi-Wan’s tongue was like nothing else, and Anakin let out a strangled sob as the pleasure rocked through him. Opening his eyes he dared to look down his body, watching the bra strain against his heaving chest, the stutter of his stomach as he breathed in and out, and finally to Obi-Wan was he mouthed his cock, wetting the dark material, making it look almost black with his spit.

Obi-Wan wore an expression that was both studious and delirious as he laved Anakin’s clothed cock with careful, deliberate attention, licking along the straining length before returning to the head, suckling on the tip to drag out more seed. It was incredible to see Obi-Wan’s lips wrapped around the pretty material, marring it with his lips and spit as he sucked Anakin off, cheeks hollowed and tongue flicking. He was grinding into the bed as he did so, his hips rocking in steady motions as he fucked the bedding, getting off on the sensation alone of having Anakin’s silk covered cock in his mouth.

Eventually it became too much, and Anakin tugged hard to get Obi-Wan to release him. Sitting up Obi-Wan brushed the corners of his mouth with his fingers, taking away the spit that coated his beard, making it shimmer under the low light in the room. They locked eyes, and Obi-Wan smiled at Anakin, lazy and sweet.

“You’re so good to me, Anakin,” he said as he collapsed on top of Anakin, teeth sharp along his collarbone and down his chest.

Pressing Anakin’s pecks together he licked between the shallow trench he’d made, rubbing the bristles of his bearded chin along Anakin’s skin. As he did this he thumbed Anakin’s nipples, rubbing the lace against the sensitive skin, sending little sparks of pleasure through Anakin. The rough brush of his beard and the lace against his nipples contrasted nicely with the slick warmth of his tongue as he licked Anakin’s pecs, coating his skin with his spit.

“Want to fuck my chest?” Anakin asked, already about to snap and give in.

“And sully your pretty lingerie?” Obi-Wan murmured. He rested his head on Anakin’s chest and peered up at him, eyes hazy with arousal, cheeks pink like a happy drunk.

“Yeah, exactly,” Anakin replied. He wasn’t sure if Obi-Wan wanted to get the lingerie dirty or not, but figured if he said or suggested the wrong thing, Obi-Wan would quietly and politely ignore the suggestion. “I want to see your cock rubbing against the silk, and have you come all over the lace. Make it real dirty - mark it as your own.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened, his touch demanding. He sat up a little and ground his cock against Anakin’s still clothed one, the pair gasping. Looking back down his body, Anakin obsessed over the image of Obi-Wan’s bare cock, hard and slick, foreskin pulled back and precome spilling out against his own length, the front of the panties sticky and stained, his bulge barely contained.

Head ducked, Obi-Wan also admired the sight, his hands sliding down to grip the back of Anakin’s thighs, spreading him open further as he thrust his cock against Anakin’s underside. Running his mechno-hand through his hair, Anakin tugged at the curls and bit his bottom lip, holding back a hiss as Obi-Wan finally released his cock from the confines of the panties.

“You’re such an obscene boy,” Obi-Wan huffed out as he wrapped his hand around their cocks and started stroking them together. “Probably bought the smallest pair of panties you could find, didn’t you? Just enough to cover you up, but not enough to keep that pretty cock of yours hidden. One wrong move and you’d be falling out, wouldn’t you? The head of your cock would peek out from the edge, your balls hanging between the tight banding, everything on full display.”

Anakin moaned in response, his eyes squeezing shut as pleasure washed over him again and again, Obi-Wan’s words and Obi-Wan’s touch and Obi-Wan’s desperation filling him up until he had no choice but to spill over.

“You’d probably like that, wouldn’t you, darling? Showing yourself off to me, like some animal in heat.”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

Obi-Wan’s grip tightened, his pupils swallowing up what was left of his irises. “You know I could never resist you, Anakin. Draped in rags, I’d still want you.”

“Are you saying I didn’t have to go through all this effort?”

“No,” Obi-Wan said quickly. “The memory alone of your panties barely containing your cock, balls hung low, the straps tight against your muscle will get me off for years.”

“Gonna touch yourself thinking about me?” Anakin asked, straining as another blossom of pleasure flooded through him. “Think about my cock and wish it was in your mouth as you get off? Unable to stop yourself from grabbing your cock whenever you think about my hole, barely covered by a thin strip of silk?”

“Anakin…”

“You can take holo-pics after, if you want. I’ll get in any pose you want.”

“Any pose?”

“Any.”

“You’re such a filthy boy.”

Hearing the words filthy tumble from Obi-Wan’s parted lips made Anakin almost pass out from pure pleasure, and he ground his hips upward, seeking more pressure as he neared the ledge. “I’m close,” he huffed out.

Obi-Wan squeezed his length and cupped his balls, rubbing the sullied silk against them. That was all it took. He came with a shout, hips stuttering, mouth hung open, cock streaming ribbons of come across his groin and Obi-Wan’s own length. Tugging at his curls he pulled until pain skittered through him, mixing with the pleasure as he rode through his orgasm, desperate to experience it for as long as he could.

When he was done he collapsed on Obi-Wan’s lap and let out a satisfied groan. But his relaxation only lasted a moment before Obi-Wan was moving again, dropping Anakin’s hips back down onto the bed before he climbed on top of him and straddled his chest. Opening his eyes, he locked them with Obi-Wan and reached down to squeeze his pecs together. Obi-Wan grasped his cock and slipped it along the middle of the bra, straining the material around Anakin’s chest.

“C’mon, fuck my tits,” Anakin said, causing Obi-Wan’s cock to drool profusely.

With one hand Obi-Wan placed it over his cock, creating a sealed off seam that he could fuck into, cock sliding along the trench between Anakin’s pecs and the underside of his hand. With his other hand he grasped the back of Anakin’s head, grip tight in his curls as he made him look at the sight before him. Obi-Wan’s cock peeked out with each hurried thrust, the head red and slick with seed, the shaft heavy and hot along Anakin’s skin, balls rocking back and forth as they dragged across Anakin’s sternum. He gasped as Obi-Wan tugged at his curls, his weight heavy across his form, the scent of his sex thick in his nose and the back of his throat.

A few more desperate thrusts and Obi-Wan was coming, thick ribbons of come hitting Anakin’s chest and neck, a few streaks landing on his lips which he licked up. Obi-Wan shifted his weight and held his cock, directing some of the come to the bra, spreading his seed along the lace. When he was done he ducked his head and started cleaning Anakin up, tongue hot and broad across his chest as he licked up his mess, sucking it off of the bra.

And then he collapsed, head cradled on Anakin’s chest as he eased into his afterglow.

Hugging Obi-Wan close, Anakin pet the back of his head and stared up at the ceiling. The tightness of the lingerie was starting to become uncomfortable but he didn’t move away, contented to remain beneath Obi-Wan.

A kiss was applied to his sternum, followed by another further up, until Obi-Wan was level with Anakin.

“Hi,” he mumbled as he brushed Obi-Wan’s bang from his brow.

“Hullo.” He returned the small smile and cupped Anakin’s cheek, his touch now gentle. “I see you found my private folder on my datapad.”

Anakin sighed. He’d almost gotten away with it, too.

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