#musing / you can show me how it feels when someone is truly seen

[evanave]

Listen, I think Evan should get his ear pierced like in the picture below. I mean, he already has his earlobes pierced. He just doesn't wear earrings often, but now he has to, because I say so xD

[pretentious-blonde]

jealous much?

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve may not be the jealous type, but when he sees someone else eyeing his girl, he’s more than happy to remind you exactly who takes care of you the best

warnings: 18+ this is smut, filth with feelings, depictions of sex, p in v, fingering, manhandling, steve being a cocky little shit, lots and lots of aftercare because how could i not???

a/n: to the anon(s) that told me they wanted steve to be a bit harsher, i gotchu <3 pt. 6 but can be read as a standalone!!

series masterlist

Steve’s bedroom was always comfortably cluttered—movie tickets scattered on the nightstand, a lone shirt draped over the desk chair, and a rumpled blanket that smelled faintly of his cologne. You loved it here. Loved being with him here. The two of you were sprawled across his bed, legs tangled, currently discussing the goings-on with the people in Hawkins. 

He always had a soft spot for scandal, unable to shake his love for idle gossip. He kept up with every whisper in the school hallways—a habit that only worsened once he gained access to the town’s personal archive of movie choices. 

Dangerous information for him to have, truly. 

“You should’ve seen what Keith has been checking out lately,” he said, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes bright. “Nothing but straight rom-coms. He thinks we don’t notice—‘cause, y’know, he does it on his own time—but Rob went snooping through the store’s computer system.”

“No way. Keith?” You snorted. “I thought he was into those art-house horror flicks or those silent German ones.”

“Right?” Steve agreed with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “We’re putting money on him having a girlfriend. That would explain why he’s been giving us both more hours lately—guy’s gotta prioritise his love-life, you know?”

“Huh,” you mused, nudging his knee with yours. “So he finally snagged a girl?”

“That’s the theory,” he affirmed, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Now we just gotta figure out who it is. Or corner him into telling us.”

You giggled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Well, I’m sure that won’t take long. Keith has never been good at subtlety.”

“Kinda jealous he’s the one who arranges the schedule, though.” He hummed, shifting closer until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your hair. “Means I gotta argue with him if I want a full weekend off.”

“You poor thing,” you teased, tapping his chest. “I can always come hang out if you get stuck working. Keep you company.”

He brightened. “Yeah?”

“Totally,” you said smiling. “I don’t mind. I'm very entertaining.”

“Well, does that mean when I get a weekday off, I can come crash your work?” he asked, waggling his brows. “I look great in a tie.”

You eyed him skeptically, but there was no denying he’d look downright mouthwatering in a suit. All done up, weaving through your office like he owned the place—it made your insides curl.

He’d probably climb the ladder faster than you, effortlessly charming his way to the top. It was unfair how charismatic he could be, even without trying.

“I wish you could.” You groan, getting your mind out of the gutter. “It’d make the day go so much faster.”

"I’d be the perfect intern," he agreed, "I could grab the coffee for a change—plus,” a playful smile tugs at his lips as he gazes down at you, “I already know exactly how you like it."

You laughed, then shrugged. “Actually, you wouldn’t have to run for coffee now. We got a new hire last week—Ryan, I think his name is? He’s younger, maybe by a year or so, but super eager. I’ve been showing him around, finally getting some of the stress off my plate.”

His expression changed with a touch of curiosity or perhaps just a pang of protectiveness—but it settled quickly into genuine affection. He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. 

“You looking out for him, angel?”

“Yeah—well, I mean—” A flush crept up your cheeks. “I would’ve liked if someone had done that for me when I started, you know? Don’t want him to feel overwhelmed by everything.”

He almost melted as those words left your lips, loving the flustered look on your face when he praised you.

God, you’re too sweet for your own good sometimes.

You snuggled closer and let out a yawn, feeling his arm tighten around you in a gentle hug as you hid your face in his chest.

“Alright,” he said, clearing his throat as he glanced at the clock on his desk. “Come on sleepyhead. You’ve got an early morning, gotta get some rest."

You groaned dramatically. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Hey,” he offered with a warm smile, “want me to drive you? I’ve got tomorrow off so it’s really no trouble.”

“Honestly, it’s fine.” You shook your head tiredly. “Have a lie-in for once, you deserve it. Besides, you’re picking me up after work anyway, right?”

A lazy, content grin spread across his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Alright,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you—slow and sweet. “Come on, sweetheart. Bedtime.”

Steve insisted on seeing you off that morning, even when you tried to do the nice thing and let him sleep in. 

He woke up with you anyway. It baffled you how he could sleep through his own alarm but miraculously rise at the first buzz of yours. Even when you tried to turn it off and sneakily creep around his room without rousing him, your efforts were futile. 

He followed you downstairs and sipped the coffee he brewed for you both at the kitchen counter, watching while you tugged on your office blazer, making sure your hair was just right in the reflection of the hall mirror. 

It made him grin stupidly, watching you hustle around in your formal attire—his career girl. 

He couldn’t help himself. He’d pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead at his doorstep before you left, telling you to “knock ��em dead.” Which earned him a huff from you. 

He was far too corny in the morning for your liking. 

Only when your car was out of sight did he head back inside, now all glum that he had to entertain himself for the rest of the day.

He spent his time alone doing errands—laundry, a quick trip to the grocery store, all while counting down the hours till he could swing by your office.

It wasn’t pathetic, but he’d be the first to admit he was maybe a little too eager. Then again, he’d found his person, and he figured it wasn’t a crime to want every spare minute with you.

When the time finally came, he pulled up outside the Hawkins Post, scanning the pavement for your familiar silhouette. 

He spotted you laughing with someone—the new hire, must be, he deduced as he took in the guy’s slightly younger appearance and the way he stood just a bit too close to you for his liking. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he examined him further. 

Great. Of course he’s hot.

You glanced up just then, beaming at the sight of the familiar BMW. After a quick word to your coworker—who, he noted—looked decidedly unhappy as he caught Steve’s eye.

You bounded over to the passenger seat as he gave the guy a little wave, more smug than polite, and felt a twist of satisfaction when the guy’s scowl deepened.

You slid into the seat, barely getting the door shut before he leaned in over the console to kiss you—deep and warm, with a hint of urgency that made your pulse skip. You let out a surprised hum but quickly relaxed into it, hand coming up to rest on his cheek.

“What was that for?” You pulled back, blinking at him.

He shrugged, eyes flicking past you to the figure still hovering on the pavement. 

“Nothing,” he said, casual as can be. “Just missed you, that’s all.” 

He caught your colleague staring and resisted the urge to smirk openly.

Gotcha.

You huffed a playful laugh, still a little breathless. “Well, I’m not complaining.”

“Ready to go?” Steve asked, turning the key in the ignition. You nodded, and he eased the car into the street. “Oh—there are M&Ms in the glove box. Grabbed 'em for you.” He added, remembering picking them up at the store earlier. Knowing you’d appreciate it. 

“Ugh, you’re the best, you know that?” you said, popping open the compartment and grabbing the bag, eagerly tearing through the plastic.

He glanced sideways, a small, satisfied grin tugging at his lips. Holding out his hand, he waited as you handed him a few—only fair, after all.

Because, yeah, he is the best.

Damn right.

And he’s glad you think so too. 

Dinner had wrapped up at your flat, the remnants of takeaway containers still on the coffee table, but neither of you paid them much mind. You were curled up with him on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you recounted every last detail of your day—he hung onto each word like it was the most important news in the world. 

Well, more important to him than the news you printed, anyway. 

“And,” you said, voice cracking with excitement, “they’re finally letting me write my own story! The whole thing, just me.”

His grin was instant, radiant enough to outshine the lamp in the corner. Pure happiness poured from him as he watched you speak, your joy lighting up the room.

There wasn’t a trace of resentment—just pride, just excitement, just you. 

He was every bit as thrilled as you were, because he knew how hard you’d worked to get here. And now, seeing it all finally pay off, he couldn’t have been prouder of you.

“That’s incredible, honey,” he said truthfully. “Seriously, can’t wait to read it. What’s it gonna be about?”

You shrugged, flustered and thrilled all at once. “I have so many ideas—I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, whatever you choose, I’m first in line for a sneak peek.” He draped an arm behind you on the couch, giving you a playful nudge. “You gonna let me see the first draft?”

“Nope.” You snorted. “You have to wait until it’s printed, just like everyone else. No boyfriend privileges here.”

“What?” He let out a mock-offended huff. “I’m supposed to wait for the issue like the rest of town? Come on you gotta give me, like, a preview or something.”

“Alright, alright,” you conceded, stifling a laugh at his dramatic pout. “Let me get changed first, and then maybe we can brainstorm together, okay?”

He leaned back, playful grin returning. “But I like the corporate look.”

“Yeah, well, now you get the pajama look,” you countered, sticking your tongue out as you got up.

He watched you walk off, fondness swelling in his chest. He’d never get tired of that view—hair done up from a day at the office, blouse slightly rumpled from a long day’s work. 

You disappeared into your bedroom, leaving him alone on the couch. He let out a contented sigh, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

With a lazy flick of the remote, he turned up the volume on the TV, barely sparing it a glance. What you wore didn’t matter to him—truth be told, he loved you just as much in cosy attire as in your best dressed-up look.

Comfort suited you, and therefore suited him just fine.

Not even a minute after your departure, the phone rang—a jarring, tinny sound that made him glance over his shoulder. It only rang twice before he heard your cheerful voice answer in the bedroom. 

His ears perked up. He couldn’t help it—he was nosey.

Sue him. 

Muting the TV, he angled his head to listen, as your muffled giggle drifted through the space. 

“No, seriously, don’t worry about it,” you said. “He doesn’t need it until Monday—promise.”

He rose from the couch, moving quietly toward your slightly ajar door. He caught a glimpse of you standing by your chest of drawers, one hand on your hip, the other clutching the receiver. He couldn’t quite make out every expression with your back turned, but your tone was friendly, warm, comfortable. 

An unwelcome pang of jealousy flared in his chest, though he quickly reminded himself that you love him, you’ve talked about this, he trusts you. 

Still, he couldn’t resist sidling closer.

“Yeah, don’t listen to what he said,” you continued, your tone soothing. “He’s all talk, trust me.”

He inched into the room, sliding his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzling his face against your neck. Your skin was still warm and you let out a tiny squeak of surprise, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into him.

He inched down to whisper in your free ear, low and soft. 

“Who is it?”

Turning to him, you quickly covered the receiver with your palm. “Ryan,” you mouthed.

Ryan. Right. Great. 

He rolled his eyes a little, then brushed a slow kiss on the side of your neck. 

“Call him tomorrow, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice playful but filled with an undercurrent of impatience. 

You already spent the whole day with the guy, and now he's calling you? Even when he saw him pick you up? It didn’t take a genius to figure out you had other plans, and the thought nudged at him uncomfortably. 

You shook your head in exasperation, though you were smiling. He continued to nuzzle you, pressing you gently forward until your back arched at the contact. 

“Leave work at the door,” he teased, fingers pressing slightly into your waist.

You exhaled a soft laugh and brought the phone back to your ear. “Hey, Ryan? I’ll, uh, I’ll just swing by the office a bit earlier tomorrow if you need anything else, okay? … Yeah, no worries, meet you outside. Bye.”

You placed the handset back in the cradle and turned fully to face your boyfriend, still in your work clothes, not yet changed.

Crossing your arms, you fixed him with a look, and he couldn’t help but smirk, already anticipating the playful scolding coming his way. But all he could focus on was you—standing there in your blouse and slacks, looking far too damn sweet for him to take even the slightest bit seriously.

“Feeling needy, huh?” you asked, tilting your head.

He let out an incredulous huff, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. 

“What? Couldn’t he have waited till tomorrow? I mean… come on. He could have talked to you anytime today.”

You shrugged. “I did tell him he could call if he had any questions.”

He snorted, stepping closer, fingers trailing gently along your waist. 

“Questions, huh?”

“Questions,” you confirmed, heart skipping a beat at the intent look in his eyes.

His touch lingered, a tiny spark of possessiveness flickering behind his eyes. Then the realisation seemed to strike. You saw it—the slight tightening of his jaw, the faint furrow between his brows. It made you bite your cheek to stop from letting a giggle slip. 

“Wait a second,” you said, holding back a smile. “Steve, are you… are you jealous?”

“What? No.” He shifted, clearing his throat. “Absolutely not.”

“You so are,” you pressed, delighting in the way his nose scrunched ever so slightly.

“Sweetheart,” he warned, voice dipping lower, “I’m not.”

You only giggled, emboldened by the rosy flush creeping into his cheeks, wanting to push his buttons just a little. 

“Aw, you think I’d ever pick him over you?”

Something sparked in his eyes, a confident glint that made your stomach flutter. 

“Oh, honey,” he purred, “I know you wouldn’t pick him over me.”

You couldn’t resist teasing him one step further.

“Oh, well…” you sighed, letting the words trail with a mischievous lilt, “I’m not quite sure. I mean, he knows my coffee order too, you know.”

The air shifted—his hand slid up your torso in one smooth motion, fingertips barely brushing the exposed skin of your collarbone before settling at the base of your throat. 

His palm rested there, thumb gently grazing your quickening heartbeat as he angled your chin up to face him.

“You wanna finish that thought, sweetheart?” he murmured, voice low enough to send a tremor through you.

You swallowed, a sudden dryness in your throat. He smirked, clearly relishing your hesitation. 

“Didn’t think so,” he whispered, brushing his lips fleetingly against the corner of your mouth before pulling back.

Your heart pounded, body already hyper-aware of each place he touched you. You wondered if he could feel the way your pulse had sped up beneath his hand—because from the triumphant gleam in his eye, it was clear he knew precisely what kind of effect he had on you.

When his fingers trailed beneath your collar again, you shivered, and the reaction only seemed to spur him on. 

“Think I’m jealous, baby?” His mouth hovered just above yours, teasing, refusing to close the distance.

When you leaned in, he pushed back just enough to make you wait, to make you listen. 

"Need me to show you how well I take care of you?” His other palm slid against your lower back, holding you flush against him. “Can’t have you forgetting, can we?"

The way he was looking at you, like he dared you to argue.

His eyes were locked on yours, hungry and unapologetically smug, as he backed you against the counter. Waiting for the subtle nod of your head to tell him to continue. 

His fingers fiddled with the button of your trousers, and you could practically feel his heart racing in sync with your own.

“H-haven’t forgotten,” you managed to stutter out, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

He cocked a brow as he paused his motions, leaning in until his breath fanned over your lips. 

“You sure? The way you were talking—almost like you need a reminder.” A slow, dangerous smile tugged at his mouth. “And you know how much I love proving my point.”

You swallowed hard. You did know—Steve was stubborn as hell, and once he made up his mind, there was no talking him down. 

You’d learned that the very first time you hung out with him—he spent a whole hour building you that damned bookshelf that was wedged in the corner of your living room, refusing to even let you help him carry it up the stairs. All in an effort to prove himself to you.

And by the way he was acting, he was determined to prove himself again. 

“Say the word, baby, and I’ll stop.” He tells you earnestly, as his brown eyes search your face. 

He would stop in an instant if you told him to, but the way you're looking at him tells him you won’t. Something tells him that you want him to show you how good he can make you feel.

And Steve? 

Well, Steve never backed down from a challenge. 

You let out a shaky exhale, no response forming except the pleading expression you're giving him. A small, triumphant noise rumbled in his throat. Your slacks and underwear hit the floor, and in one swift motion, he coaxed you against the side of the counter, broad hands splaying over your hips.

He brushed his hand against you slowly, cautiously, fingers gliding against your core and making your knees threaten to buckle.

“Already?” His tone was low, teasing, right at your ear as his fingers entered you with a lewd, wet sound. “You’re shaking, baby. Maybe I have been neglecting you.”

“Please,” you whimpered after a moment, overwhelmed by how slow and teasing he was moving—he wasn’t normally quite so unhurried with the foreplay.

Steve usually never made you beg for anything. 

He let out a soft chuckle, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to the side of your neck. Clearly, he was enjoying this—relishing the way your hands pawed at his shoulders, desperate, pleading for more. For him to stop playing and just give in.

“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, alright?” His fingers moved with agonising precision. “So sensitive—so sweet for me”

Your breathing stuttered; the sensations bloomed hot and electric with every brush of his fingers. But his mouth kept going, sliding into that cocky territory he owned so well. 

“Bet he wouldn’t even know where to start with you,” he murmured, voice laced with pride. "Wouldn’t even know how fucking beautiful you sound when you—" his thumb pressed hard against your clit, dragging a desperate, wrecked moan from your lips, “—fuck yourself on my fingers.”

You could tell he was on a roll, completely caught up in the moment, but you mustered the courage to speak anyway.

Feeling bold, you forced a small smirk, even as your body threatened to betray you. You’d never seen him this pent up before—this utterly consumed—and the sheer thrill of it sent a sharp, electric spark through you.

Curiosity burned—just how far could you push him?

“O-oh, I don’t know—” you managed to choke out, stepping on dangerous territory. “He’s a keen learner…”

So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?

Everything stopped—his fingers, his breath, the push of his body against yours. He stilled, letting a harsh exhale flare his nostrils. 

Then a dark, knowing laugh bubbled out of him as he lifted his head to look at you—really look at you. You caught a glimpse of his determined face, before all composure snapped. 

Now he really had something to prove.

“Fuck, angel,” he groaned, voice taking on a frustrated edge. “You just don’t know when to stop—do you?”

Before you could react, he flipped you around and pushed your hips down against the dresser with a firm grip. The wood pressed into your stomach, your palms splayed on either side as he molded himself to your back.

He cupped your jaw from behind and you gasped at the harshness of his grip, every nerve alive. His teeth found your shoulder, biting just enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain.

You let out a sharp cry, and he swallowed it with a low groan. Running his tongue against the dull ache as a gentle apology. 

“One of these days," he muttered, "that smart mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble—” you could feel his breath, hot and ragged, “—lucky for you, I’m the one who gets to teach it a lesson.”

His words send shivers across your skin and you tried to twist in his grip. 

“Oh no, you don’t,” he chided as you tried to squirm, pressing against you back as he stilled your movements. “Stay.”

He placed one strong palm between your shoulder blades, guiding you lower, til your chest made contact with the wooden surface. Keeping you where he wanted you.

He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t forcing—just holding you there, making sure you felt him, making sure you knew exactly how this was going to go.

Your legs stumbled as you adjusted to the position, and he just laughed, sliding his fingers inside you once more, coaxing the most desperate little noises from your lips.

“Say my name, angel,” he demanded, that infuriating confidence dripping from every syllable.

“S-Steve,” you whimpered, voice barely recognisable to your own ears.

“Good,” he praised, dipping his head to kiss along your shoulder, fingers hitting that sweet spot inside that he knew drives you wild. “Want it to be the only thing in your head, okay?”

You moaned out his name once more, and he hummed with approval. 

“That’s right." He cooed. "You're a fast learner, baby.”

He pulled away momentarily and you whined at the loss of contact, until you heard the metallic rasp of his zipper. He was right back against you, pressing his length along you with a low moan.

"You feel that?"  he murmured, voice thick with need as he pressed against you, rolling his hips in a slow, deliberate grind. The friction sent sparks through your core, pulling a soft gasp from your lips. His grip tightened, fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver. "You're soaked, sweetheart."

He didn’t want to wait—couldn’t wait. He needed to prove it to you, needed you to understand just how much he could give you. Just how much he deserved you. 

You tried to speak, but your voice came out ragged. Then, mercifully, he pushed inside—slow enough to let you feel every inch. The stretch pulled a drawn-out, trembling whine from your chest.

“Ah, fuck—.” His own voice cracked, hips snapping forward as though he couldn’t possibly wait another second. “That’s it—see how good that feels?—pussy was made for me. Ain't that right, angel?”

You only mewled in response as he settled into a driving rhythm, each thrust pushing you into the surface, bullying his cock deeper and deeper inside.

He wrapped a hand against the back of your neck, keeping you pinned where he could use you, pressing hot kisses along your shoulders when you cried out. It was music to his ears as he continued his relentless pace.

Normally he was gentler, but now, he was done holding back. The litany pouring from his mouth was shameless, full of desire and unfiltered possessiveness.

“Should’ve kept him on that damn phone—” he rasped against your neck, each word punctuated by a thrust. “Should’ve made him listen to how you sound—‘cause that’s the closest he’s ever gonna get to having you like this—”

Your walls tightened around him as his words poured over you, and he noticed—of course he noticed. He drank in every tremor, every flutter of your pussy, letting out a breathless laugh tinged with disbelief as he felt you squeeze him deeper at his teasing remarks.

"You like that?—really?" He let out an amused chuckle at the new information. “Shit—never knew how filthy you were, baby.” 

The way you gripped his length, pulling him deeper, the sinful sounds spilling from your lips—he knew he was giving you both. Worship and destruction. 

And fuck, you loved it.

You dragged your nails across the dresser’s surface, searching for an anchor in the storm of sensation. His hand slid over yours, fingers lacing as he drove into you, relentless.

“Too fucking bad he’s never gonna see how pretty you look when you're fucked dumb,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss the side of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "That's just for me."

You felt your composure slipping, your body teetering on the edge. Your head rolled to the side, a broken string of words escaping.

“Steve, please—” spilled from your lips, but you weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point.

He tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you upright just enough so he could whisper directly into your ear. The pain was delicious as you arched against him, lungs gasping for air as he continued to spill every dirty thought he had.

"It's alright sweetheart—I’ll give you what you need. Just look at you—can’t even think straight." A soft, desperate moan tore from your throat as his mouth continued to run. "Just falling apart on my cock, letting me fuck every last thought out of that pretty head of yours."

His pace quickened, your body overwhelmed with the slide of him inside your walls, the heat of his skin, the possessive timbre in every word he rasped into your ear.

"But you know what you will remember?" he purred, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "Every time you see him, you’ll remember how I had you bent in half, screaming my name—not his." He let you fall back onto the dresser, firm grip returning to your shoulder. "I want this burned into you, baby. So every fucking time you even look at him, all you can think about is me stretching you open—ruining you for anyone else."

Fuck, you knew Steve was loose-lipped in bed, but this was something else entirely. 

He wasn’t making love to you—he was fucking you. Hard. Rough. Saying whatever filthy thing came to mind without a second thought. 

You wished you could throw back a sly quip, but at this pace? You could barely breathe, let alone speak. 

Not that it would matter—he wouldn’t give you the chance.

Your moans rose in pitch, matching the mounting tension in your core, and he groaned, voice unraveling into something so heady it almost vibrated through you.

"I—fuck—I want you feeling me tomorrow, sweetheart—want every step you take to remind you exactly what’s waiting for you when you come home." He thrust sharply, greeted with the cry that tore from your lips. "‘Cause, baby, I’ve got no problem bending you over like this again and again—’til the lesson sticks—"

That final promise was all you needed—you came hard, a wave of ecstasy rolling through you as your body clenched around him. Your cry echoed in the small space, and you felt his grip falter as he groaned your name, riding the crest of your climax.

“Fuck, baby—that’s it,” he choked out, thrusts turning erratic. “So good for me, taking me so—”

Then he followed you over the edge, hips snapping one last time before his body seized. You felt his breath come in ragged pants against your neck, his chest pressed to your back. Every muscle in him went taut, then slack, as he let out a deep, guttural moan of satisfaction.

Your name fell from his lips in a trembling exhale, and for a moment, neither of you moved—both lost in the aftermath, hearts hammering in sync.

He held you for a beat longer, both of you still catching your breath. Your body trembled against the wood, and as he finally pulled out, he stayed close—almost reluctant to let you go.

But as he pulled away brushing a knuckle over your spine, guilt crept into his eyes the moment he took in your shaky form.

“Ah—shit” he murmured, voice low. “Hey, sweetheart, you with me?”

You nodded weakly, turning your head and giving him the smallest smile of reassurance, but he still frowned in concern. Maybe he'd gone overboard.

“Yeah… all right. Can you stand?”

“I—I think so,” you managed breathily.

“Okay,” he whispered, guiding you upright with one gentle arm around your waist. Once he was sure you weren’t going to topple over, he bent down to scoop up your trousers and set them aside. You’d probably complain if they got creased—more creased than they were. Though, that wasn’t his number one priority right now. 

You noticed the way his forehead furrowed in worry as he led you to the bed, helping you settle against the duvet. He slid in behind you, propping himself against the headboard so you could rest in his lap.

Your hands trembled a bit from aftershocks—adrenaline still coursing through your veins. He felt it, too, and his anxious expression only deepened.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“Hey, angel?” His voice was gentle, coaxing, as he sought your eyes. “Can you look at me for a sec?”

You tilted your head back to meet his worried gaze, your cheeks still flushed and eyes glazed with the rush of it all. His own eyes flickered over your messy hair, the light smudges of your makeup, and your rumpled work shirt. Guilt pinched at his features.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His words tumbled out in a rush. “I’m sorry if I got carried away. I just—just got caught up in everything, and you—”

You let out a soft chuckle, lifting a hand to cover his mouth gently. 

God, he’s adorable when he’s fussing over you. 

“Steve,” you said softly, watching him go silent. “You didn’t hurt me. I promise.”

He still looked unconvinced. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I'm not,” you replied, smoothing your thumb over the swell of his bottom lip. “I’m really, really good. Better than good.”

He cupped your face gently, thumb brushing soft circles into your cheek, eyes flicking between yours as if searching for any sign of discomfort.

“Didn’t mean to be so rough,” he murmured, voice laced with concern. "Should've been more gentle with you, angel."

You were still quivering in his lap, body still sensitive. He was torn between holding you tighter against him, or letting you breathe.

You leaned forward after sensing his hesitation, brushing a soft kiss to his jaw, you make the decision for him.

“I loved it." You tell him truthfully. "I love you.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, hands finding your hips and holding you there. His warmth seeped into you through the fabric of your rumpled work shirt.

You loved him.

No matter how many times the words left your lips, it still made his chest ache.

"Love you too," he murmurs, eyes avoiding yours as they dart to his lap. "Just... don't want you thinking I, like, lost control or something." He looks up at you sheepishly. "Never want to hurt you."

“I know that.” You rested your palm against his jaw, the intimacy of the moment made your heart flutter. “I trust you. And if it was too much, I’d tell you.”

He stared at you for a moment, brow furrowed in uncertainty. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

A long exhale left him, relief slumping his shoulders. 

“Thank God.” He leaned forward to rest his forehead gently against yours.

“But… you’re probably right.” You managed a playful smile as his eyes snapped to yours. “I’m definitely going to feel it tomorrow.”

A rosy flush bloomed across his face, and he buried it against your neck with a half-embarrassed groan. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You gave a teasing shrug, ignoring the dull ache that made itself known the second you moved your hips. “You might’ve had a point, too.”

“Yeah?” he asked, lifting his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

A teasing grin curled your lips. “You are kinda hot when you’re jealous.”

“Oh, God, don’t say that.” He winced exaggeratedly, making you laugh. “You’ll give me a complex or something.”

You laughed again, and he couldn’t help smiling back, brushing his nose against your cheek in a moment of affection.

“But, I mean, are you feeling jealous?” You asked him with full seriousness. “Because if you are, you can talk to me about it.”

He swallowed, his grip loosening slightly as his eyes softened, realisation settling deep in his chest.

You cared. So much. He thought about it for a brief moment—was he really jealous?

But then he looked at you, all concerned in his arms. The way you gazed at him, unwavering and sure, the way you had trusted him completely not five minutes ago, letting him take control, letting him have you.

It was all the answer he needed.

There was no room for doubt, no reason for insecurity. You were his—entirely his—and he knew it.

“No,” he finally said, voice gentle. “’M not jealous. Not really. I just—I don't know—wanted to make my girl feel good.” His lips quirked up in a small, sheepish grin. “And I guess I wanted to remind you who you’ve got waiting when you clock out.”

You leaned up to plant a reassuring kiss on his jaw. “Well, message received,” you teased, drawing a chuckle from him.

Steve glanced down at your blouse, still haphazardly half-done-up, and your bare legs still shaking. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? I kinda distracted you from changing.”

“You definitely did.” You smile softly as he gets up, offering you his hand to stand.

“C’mon, let’s get a bath running.” He tells you as he cocks his head towards the door.

He guides you to the bathroom, flicking on the light and starting the taps. As water rushed into the tub, he helped you out of your disheveled work shirt, eyes flicking appreciatively across your skin. Gently, he traced a thumb over a reddening mark on your neck where he’d bitten down. A pang of guilt made his eyes tighten.

“Sorry about that,” he whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss over the mark. “Got carried away.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting a grin. “Hey, you got what you wanted, didn’t you? Everyone to know I’m yours?”

“Yeah,” a bashful smile tugged at his lips. “I did.”

Once the bath was ready, you both climbed in. The warm water soothed the lingering tension in your muscles, and you leaned back against his chest with a contented sigh. His arms draped loosely around your middle, fingers stroking lazy shapes over your skin.

“So,” he spoke up after a moment, lips brushing your ear.  “you wanna brainstorm those ideas for your article now, Miss Journalist?”

You chuckled, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. “Oh, now you’re interested in my writing process?”

“Course I am.” He gave a soft laugh, tightening his hold on you. “I’m always interested in whatever you’ve got going on. You know that.”

“Alright,” you teased, “I have a few pitches… maybe a feature on that new charity coffee place that’s opening up on Maple Street? Or this local teacher doing after-school science programs? I’m torn—so many good leads.”

Steve made an encouraging noise. “I like the teacher one,” he mused, brow furrowing in real consideration. “I mean, c’mon, that sounds like it’d be really feel-good for the paper. Everyone loves seeing that kinda community stuff.”

“You think so?” You felt a wave of affection swell through you at how genuine he was.

“Yeah. It’s definitely the kind of story that’ll get people talking in a good way.” He paused, a grin curling his lips. “But I gotta say… I also love coffee.”

“We’ll see which one the editor likes.” You giggle.

He helped you out of the tub once the water began to cool, wrapping a towel around his waist before carefully bundling you in another. He pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, then led you back to the bedroom, flicking off the overhead light so you were left in a peaceful glow from the bedside lamp.

You slipped into a soft tee and lounge shorts as he grabbed his own pyjamas from your chest of drawers, blushing at what transpired on it previously. He would never look at it the same way again.

You curled up against him in the bed—his arms around you made everything feel warm and safe.

“What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?” you mumbled against his chest.

“Not ’til afternoon,” he said, carding his fingers through your hair.

A content sigh escaped you, eyes fluttering shut. “Nice for some, I guess.”

“But,” he continued, clearing his throat pointedly, “I’m definitely dropping you off tomorrow.”

Your brow creased, and you glanced up at him with a sleepy frown. 

“Why?”

He smirked, his hand coming to rest gently on your hip. “Because… you said you were meeting him earlier, right? The new guy?” He leaned in, voice dropping playfully. “I wanna see the look on your face when you see him—see if you remember exactly what we did tonight.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you smacked his chest lightly. “Steve!”

“What?” He chuckled, utterly delighted, pressing a mischievous kiss to your forehead. “I’m curious.”

You huffed in mock-annoyance but couldn’t hide your smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

His chest rumbled with laughter, and he buried his nose in your hair. “That’s me,” he murmured, voice going soft again as he held you closer.

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

eleven.

[ten] [eleven] [twelve]

faithful to its nature, its power never diminished.

Arms wrap around you sweetly, you lean into it. Wanting nothing more but to stay in the moment. “you’re so pretty.” And you look over to see Viktor. You smile, going in to place a kiss on his lips. It was perfect. The room was dark, only dimly lit by the laptop screen that played…

That played um… What is it playing? You pull away from the kiss, to look over at the device that was beginning to look weird. “What the-” “[Name]?” You look back over to Viktor who was now replaced by Powder. Your best friend. You furrow your eyebrows, slightly in disgust. You blink a few times.

“What?” You rasp and you hear Powder laugh, her arm rested on your waist as the two of you lay together on your bed watching a show. “Dude, you passed out.” She announces. “We’ve only watched one episode.” She tells you and you scrunch your face. Trying to register what was happening. “Sorry.” 

She raises a brow at you. “Have a nightmare or something?” Powder sits up, her arm going back to her own side. You frown momentarily at the loss of her warmth. “No, I- it was stupid.” You shrug your shoulders, sitting up as well. Staring down at your fingers as your face grows flustered. “Tell me about it.” 

You think back to the short, painfully short dream. “It was about Viktor. For the hundredth time.” You sigh, annoyed with your own brain. Creating such imagery in your own head that you now have to think about when you’re conscious. “Mm, not surprised.” Powder huffs out a laugh, leaning into you as she also pauses the show. “Thanks.” You scoff, sliding off the bed to stretch out your limbs. 

“No problem, but seriously I have a question.” Your best friend follows suit, jumping on the ground. Surely to give you guys another complaint by the people underneath you. “What?” You ask, heading over to your desk, plopping down on the rolly chair.

“Do you love him or something?” The question catches you off guard and your eyes almost pop out of your own head. “Love?” You repeat.

“Yeah, if I’m wrong you can tell me but I only ask because this is like a heartbreak [Name]. I’ve never seen you this… disheveled over any break ups you’ve had.” Powder explains her reasoning. 

And thinking back to it, she’s right. With your past relationships, that was official, you’ve never really given it another thought when it ended. It was over and yeah you were sad for a little bit but this is different.

Your chest ached with the mention of Viktor. In most dreams there he existed, holding and loving you, and each time you pleaded it was real when you wake up. Only to be left with the harsh reality that you ruined that chance of being tangible.

You beat yourself up every second you're alone. 

“I don’t know. It had only been two-three weeks of getting to know one another. I feel love is a strong word for that.” You tell her truthfully. “Did you love him when he was your online friend?” She inquires and your eyes travel over to your phone. “I had love for him. He was a close friend but can you fall in love with someone you technically never met?” You question, it was something you asked yourself quite a lot. Did you love Ma? Could you fall for someone you never saw face to face. Was that possible? And if it was, is it pathetic? 

“I think so, I mean you know who he is now. Is the feeling the same for both?” 

“Why are you interrogating me?” You ignore the last sentence, now feeling on edge on how deep this was getting. “Just curious.” She hums. “I don’t know the answer.” And truthfully you didn’t. 

Love? You don’t even know if you’ve ever truly loved someone. As time passed you believed you weren’t capable of loving someone more than a friend. With your exes it never felt right. In those relationships you were honestly miserable. No motivation, putting on a mask, and not being true to yourself. 

You couldn’t enjoy your interests. Your art is forgotten about.

With Ma… or Viktor. Both. That never happened. If anything you were more motivated.

In high school you stayed up until ungodly hours, painting, sketching out sculptures based on the sound of Ma’s voice. The colors you saw, the feelings you felt all put into your art. 

Specifically the crowd paintings you created. Crowds of people. Crowds of familiar faces but not the one you wanted to see. A face that you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet blurred out but facing you in each painting. Only one figure that stood there, staring back at you. No features attainable to recognize.

And you hated it. You wanted to know who it was.

“Wonderful ideas, wonderful models. I don’t think I’ve had such intelligent and creative students as I do this year. Take this time to inspect others' projects and mingle with one another.” Your biology professor tells the class, everyone of you standing up to his directions. 

Viktor and you stick together, unintentionally throughout the room. No words said between either of you.

You admire your fellow classmates' work, clicking through the slides on each laptop. Reading thoroughly through their slides. Silently gushing at the way they decorated their boards. Viktor observes you the entire time. 

The words of his friends stick in his mind. You don’t entirely seem upset? But if they had seen it themselves, surely they’re not lying to him. His eyes scanned your face closely. A hardened gaze, his jaw clenching subconsciously.

Did he want to see you upset? Why would he want that? To know you’re hurting just as much as he is? Would he wish that pain on someone he lo- he respects? 

No, he wouldn’t.

You look back at him with a polite smile. “Right?” His eyebrows furrow, confused. “What?” He asks hesitantly, his cheeks fell warm as he is put on the spot by you. You snicker. “I said, their work is so organized, maybe the two of you would hit it off.” You repeat, your breath now caught in your throat. Wondering if that was too friendly too soon. He glances over to the people’s work. 

It had no color, monotonous and tidy. Is that what you think of him? Bland, tasteless and… boring? 

His head bows down, a ghost of a nod. “Sure.” He dryly replies, unfortunately feeding into your worries. “Did I say something wrong?” You quietly inquire as you guys head to the next board. A clique of students pushing past you. 

“No?” He averts your eye contact. Was he actually upset that you think of him like that? 

“Oh.” You puff out your cheeks, not knowing what else to say.

The voices of others cover the awkward beats of silence between the two of you.

“Am I that mundane to you?” He was almost inaudible when he asked the sudden question. You cock your head to the side. Your mouth opens to answer but he lets out a scoff shaking his head.

“Don’t answer that.” He walks ahead of you. 

Mundane? Why would he think that? You pointed out the person’s tidiness because of how put together Viktor is. You admired that.

He preferred things a certain way, his room showed that. He still had a personality outside of that. His energy drew you in. The way he held himself, the enigmatic essence but also the familiarity you felt.

And now you know the familiarity was Ma. They were the same person.

Ma used to tell you about the moon and constellations for hours. He enjoyed star gazing. He enjoyed reading and learning about living beings. Their struggles. But also their potential to be more than who they were raised to be. 

He was far from mundane. Viktor was more than who he thought himself to be. In your eyes he was far better than perfect. There wasn’t a word for how you perceived him. Because every word seemed minimal in comparison to what you felt.  

“You found your muse?” You hear your professor behind you. You glare down at your paper then up to them. “What? No, look at this.” You express, lifting up the sketch and shaking it dramatically. “I am. It seems you found it.” They place a gentle hand upon your shoulder. 

You drew a crowd. Just like your millions upon millions of paintings posted on your instagram. How is a crowd of people your muse? Your eyebrows knit together and you look up to Dr. Shoola once more. “This is just a random sketch?” You say in more of a question. You were confused. You drew this often, but it’s not your muse. 

“You’re a silly one, [Name].” They pat your shoulder, moving onto Ekko’s sketch in front of you. Your eyes land back at the sheet of paper. Found your muse? Where?

You observed your own drawing. What are you not seeing?

This is short, I did it on purpose because twelve and thirteen are going to be longer. :) And honestly I do have a concussion and this took me hours. I probably shouldn't have been on my laptop the way I was but I had to post thisssss.

Two more chapters left.

Taglist: @policedeer @ang3lz-lov3 @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @corpsepies @almostdrowningdown @obittwo @ren-ni @xx-siren-sings-xx @donnie-is-here @urmommt

[k-nayee]

Muse Benson Boone

wc: 3.2k a/n: Song Inspiration: once again Death Wish Love by Benson Boone; recommend you listen while reading!! ngl y'all, I kinda have it down bad for ya boi here. smh just had to make one for him😭😭

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

It wasn’t hard to remember the first time you met Benson Boone.

You hadn’t expected much from the day, just a casual introduction Katy insisted on making when he was fresh off American Idol.

I mean, the Katy Perry? Who were you to refuse?

Besides you weren’t exactly a seasoned pro yourself—still finding your own rhythm in the music industry.

And so, it started off with little things: drafts of songs, small tweaks here and there.

You helped him refine early tracks, most notably Ghost Town—the one that truly put him on the map.

After that he started coming to you more and more. As his fame grew, so did your friendship. Pretty soon you became one of his permanent co-writers.

Now years later, you’d both grown up around each other. You’d seen him go through breakups, career stresses, and moments of doubt.

And he’d seen you juggle college, deal with your own personal issues, and (more than once) whine about how finding a decent guy seemed impossible.

Benson would always chuckle at that and tease you with lighthearted remarks, but you both knew that dating wasn’t really something you prioritized.

Maybe it was because of your grandfather’s old-school advice—always reminding you that most men wanted one thing which was what was between your legs.

It was drilled into your head so much that even when someone did show interest, you were quick to put them off.

Benson had been the exception to a lot of your rules though. Him and that attractive boy-next-door smile and the messy curls....

Ahem. Anyways.

There was even a brief period of time (you 18, him 20) when you felt a flicker of something more.

You would be hyper-aware of his closeness, how your heart would skip when he leaned in too close. But you’d buried those feelings fast.

He was your friend and he didn’t need you complicating that.

Now at 19, you were over it. Whatever crush you’d harbored was long gone, and Benson seemed content with your dynamic too.

He had never shown any romantic interest in you—he was always tangled up in his own relationships. And you?

You had your songwriting, your studies, and your life to keep you busy. There was no room to think about him like that.

But things had a funny way of changing...

You were in the studio with Benson. He was sitting across from you, head tipped back as he stared up at the ceiling in frustration.

“I don’t know,” he mutters, finally breaking the silence, “I just feel like everything I’m writing sounds the same.”

You glance up from your laptop, eyebrow raised. “You’re in a funk. It happens.”

He groans in response, still staring at the ceiling. “Yeah but it’s more than that. I want to try something new...something different.”

You lean back in your chair and wait for him to elaborate. He sits up suddenly, eyes narrowing with thought before they flicker to yours.

“I’ve been thinking,” he begins before pausing for dramatic effect. “What if I tried something in the country genre?”

A surprised laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Country music? You?”

He rolls his eyes in attempt to play it off as if it’s no big deal, but you can see the determination behind them. “Why not?”

You lean forward with a smirk. “Let me guess: bit by the Cowboy Cater bug, huh? Beyoncé's album got you feeling all rustic and rugged?”

He laughed a little flustered, shaking his head. “No it’s not that. I just—” He hesitated, and that’s when you caught it.

Beneath his usual confidence there was something else. Uncertainty.

Benson was never unsure when it came to his music, but this? It was new territory for him.

“I want to branch out, you know? Try something that’s different from what I’ve been doing.”

You watched him carefully, noticing the way his fingers drummed lightly against the armrest of his chair.

For all the joking, there was a frustration underneath it. He felt he wasn’t as creative as he usually was and it was bothering him.

After a beat of silence, you nod and cross your arms. “I get it. You’re ready to shake things up.”

“Exactly,” his expression relaxes a little as he saw you weren’t just teasing him anymore.

You pause when a spark of an idea hits you. “You know...I think I might know just the place to help kickstart your country boy era.”

His eyebrows lift. “Oh?”

A grin spread across your face.  “What if we went to my hometown? You’ll find all the inspiration you need there.”

There’s a beat of silence as Benson considers your offer, his lips curving into a soft smile. “You’d really take me down there?”

“Why not?” you say with a shrug. “Could be fun. And you’ll get all the authentic country vibes you’re looking for.”

He chuckles with a small nod. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

You beamed, already buzzing with excitement. “Great! I’ll book everything. Trust me you’re going to love it.”

He smiled back, his gaze lingering on you just a second too long before he turned away. “I trust you.”

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The moment you and Benson roll into your hometown, the air feels different.

It’s been a while since you’ve been back home, and the nostalgia washes over you in waves the closer you drive.

You catch Benson glancing out the window as if he's trying to soak in the vibe of the small Southern town.

After a few minutes of driving, he finally breaks the silence. “So...are we heading straight to the hotel?”

You glance at him with a sly grin. “Actually I’ve got a better idea.”

He raises an eyebrow intrigued but doesn’t press. He’s always trusted you, especially when it comes to things like this. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re pulling up to the familiar gates of Chickadee Country Club.

As the headlights sweep over the sign, memories of summer jobs, long shifts, and late-night laughs flood your mind.

Rolling down the window as you approach the security gate, the guard’s flashlight flickers over your car before the beam lands on you.

A wide grin breaks across the guard’s face the moment he recognizes you. “Well I’ll be damned! Ain’t that [Mom Name]’s girl? What you doin’ down here sweetheart? Thought you’d be up there with the big-time celebs writin’ them songs and whatnot.”

You roll your eyes already smiling. “Very funny, Earl. I’m here for a job.”

Earl lets out a laugh, his wrinkled face creasing in amusement. “A job huh? What, you run outta money already?”

“Ha ha, ya got me.” you say dryly, shooting him a sarcastic look. “Now will you let me through Earl? Or are you gonna keep me out here all night ya old coot?”

Earl chuckles as the gate slowly begins to open.

“Well since ya asked so nicely,” he drawls, flashing you a wink. “Don’t get lost now. Place ain’t changed much, but it still got a way of confusin’ city folk.”

As you pull through Benson snorts beside you. “Ran out of money huh?” he asks with a teasing grin as you park into the parking space.

You shrug. “Times are tough.”

Stepping out of the car, you glance back at him as he follows. “C’mon. I want to show you where the magic happens.”

Benson lets out a low whistle. “So this is where you worked?”

“Yup. Chickadee Country Club. I basically lived here for years.”

He raise an eyebrow as he get into step beside you. “So what did you do here? Let me guess—bev cart girl?”

You let out a loud laugh at that. “God, no. Everything else but that. Food running, banquet serving, bartending... you name it, I did it.”

“Bartending before 21?” His eyes widen slightly as he looks over at you. “But isn't that like—”

“Illegal?” You shoot him a mischievous smirk, leaning in just a little closer. “Just don’t tell anyone. Shhhh”

He lets out a laugh at that, the sound warm in the cooling night air.

Your smile soften at the sight, but before he could notice you brush it off and elbow him lightly.

“Welp! Who knows,” you jump a head of him with a pep in your step, “might even meet the love of your life here.”

Benson huffs with a shake of his head as he watches you head toward the glass doors of the club.

His gaze lingers, the fondness inside his chest growing the longer he watches you.

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself. “Hopefully.”

*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.* 

You push open the glass doors of the country club, stepping into the familiar scent of polished wood and faint lemon cleaner.

It’s closing time and the place is quiet, but you can already hear the distant chatter of a few late-night staffers finishing up for the evening.

Benson lingers behind you, eyes sweeping over the dark wood paneling and framed photos of golf tournaments long past.

“____! Well look what the cat dragged in!”

You barely have time to react before Mirabel, one of your old coworkers, rushes up to you with open arms.

She pulls you into a tight hug, her dark curls bouncing as she lets out an excited squeal.

“Mirabel!” you laugh as you hug her back. “Long time no see.”

Mirabel pulls away just long enough to look you up and down, her eyes sparkling with surprise. “Señorita where have you been? I thought you’d abandoned us all for the fancy Hollywood life!”

“Not quite,” you joke before perking up when your gaze fell on a familiar petite figure hunched over the computer nearby.

Taylor. She hasn’t changed a bit—still the same auburn ponytail bouncing behind her and freckles splashed across her pale skin like stars in the night sky.

You grab Benson’s arm in excitement as you whisper, “You want country inspiration right?”

Without waiting for an answer you pull him towards her.

“Taylor!” you call once close enough.

The redhead glances up, and for a split second, confusion crosses her face before recognition hits.

Her expression transforms and lights up like a firework. “Well slap my ass and call me a biscuit! ____! Where the hell have you been girl?”

Her thick Southern twang makes you giggle as you rush over to give her a tight hug. “I’ve been round! You know, making music and living that L.A. life. But I’m back for a few days to work on a new project.”

Taylor's green eyes brighten with curiosity. “Oh yeah? What kinda project?”

You glance back at Benson who’s offering a sheepish smile.

Before you can even introduce him, Taylor’s eyes widen and her jaw drops.

“Oh my God,” she's starstruck. “Benson Boone! I didn’t know you were friends with the Benson Boone!”

You suppress a laugh as Benson waves shyly. “Hi uh...nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet—girl, do you know how fine he is in real life?” Taylor mutters under her breath, though loud enough for you to hear.

You bite back a grin knowing full well that Benson heard it too by the way he flushes.

“Yeah I’ve noticed,” you reply with a wink, earning a playful slap on the arm from Taylor.

She’s just about to launch into another flurry of questions, the sound of fast-approaching footsteps catches your attention.

“My baby!” 

Before you can react, you’re snatched into a familiar embrace and smothered in kisses.

“Oh ____! My sweet baby!” Your mom’s voice echoes in the lobby as she holds onto you, her grip like iron. “When did you get here? You weren’t even gonna tell your own mama you were home?”

“Hey Ma...” you mumble, struggling to breathe as she finally pulls back.

Your mom’s tearful face quickly morphs into one of irritation, and before you can say a word, she smacks you upside the head. “Uh ow?”

“Now when the hell did you get here? And where are you even staying?” she demands, hands on her hips now. “You couldn’t even come stay at the house? What, you ashamed of where you were raised?!”

“Ma please,” you groan, already feeling the heat of embarrassment crawl up your neck as you catch Benson’s teasing gaze from the corner of your eye. “I just got in tonight, and I’m staying at a hotel because—well, there won't be any room at the house. I’ve got company.”

You gesture over to Benson who offers your mom an awkward wave. Her stern expression melts instantly the moment she sees him.

“Oh? And who is this handsome fella?” She strides over to Benson, sizing him up with a playful smile. Her hand reaches out to pinch his cheek. “You ____’s boyfriend?”

“Ma!” You practically shriek, feeling your face heat up.

“That’s Benson Boone Miss [Mom’s Name],” Taylor chimes in, still wide-eyed and giddy. “He’s like, one of the biggest artists right now. You know that song Ghost Town? That’s him!”

Your mom’s eyebrows shoot up, her smile widening with delight. She turns back to you with an amused glint in her eye.

“Oh Benson...Ain’t he that boy you used to gush about all the time? Didn’t you have the biggest crush on him or something?”

Your stomach flips and you feel like the ground just dropped out from under you.

'Did she really just say that?' You’re suddenly hyper-aware of Benson standing right beside you, and when you glance at him, you can see the surprise in his eyes.

He’s looking at you now, and it makes your pulse race.

“Wha—I—” you stammer, trying to think of anything to say that will save you from this situation. “I didn’t—psssh, what are you—” You wave your hand dismissively, avoiding Benson’s eyes completely.

“Anyway uh, Taylor!” You shift gears so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash. “I heard you’re throwing a party tonight. Mind if we crash?”

Taylor’s head perks up immediately, her excited energy pulling everyone back into a lighter mood. “Oh! You saw my post huh? Yeah we’re havin’ a get-together at the ranch. Y’all should definitely come!”

She turns to your mom. “Miss [Mom’s Name], you wanna join too?”

Your mom waves her off with a chuckle. “Oh honey, I’m not as spry as I used to be for these late-night things.”

Taylor leans in conspiratorially. “My single uncle’s gonna be there...you know, the one with the salt-n-pepper beard?”

Your mom raises an eyebrow. “The one with the big truck and cattle ranch?”

Taylor nods eagerly. 

Without missing a beat, your mom starts unties her apron and toss it onto a nearby table. “Well what are we waitin’ for then? Let’s get to that party!”

*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.* 

As you and Benson pull up to Taylor’s family ranch, the sounds of laughter and music spill into the air.

The party’s already in full swing—bonfires flickering across the open field and the twang of guitars blending with the rhythm of boots stomping on wooden boards.

You can see people dancing in pairs, moving in perfect sync as the night seems to pulse with life.

Benson stood next to you. His eyes dart everywhere, from the rows of fairy-string lights that hung between the trees to the smoky haze from the fire pits that slowly disappeared into the star-filled sky.

You can tell he’s taking it all in—the Southern atmosphere, the energy, the warmth of it all.

“Overwhelmed yet?” your tone is light when you ask with a grin.

He chuckles and shake his head. “Nah this is...different. In a good way.”

“Well get ready to be fully indoctrinated into Southern fun,” you tease before stepping toward the party. “Come on city boy.”

He follows behind you, staying close by your side.

There’s a brief pause when you both reach the edge of the party. It almost seemed like the music’s vibrations are in the air itself, buzzing with a wild kind of energy.

Taylor spots you immediately from where she’s mingling with some friends and makes a beeline for you. “Well look at what the wind blew in!” she exclaims.

In one hand she holds a light-up cowboy hat, and in the other, a bundle of glowstick necklaces. “Here y’all gonna need these.”

She places the cowboy hat on your head with a flourish and tosses a couple of glowsticks over Benson’s shoulders, the neon bands glowing faintly against his dark shirt.

Benson laughs, awkwardly adjusting the glowsticks around his neck. “What do you think? Do I look the part?”

You smirk, tugging the hat lower on your head. “You’re getting there. Just need to find you a pair of cowboy boots and you’ll be all set.”

Taylor nudges you with her elbow. “C'mon! What are y’all? Stalks of corn waiting to be shucked or sum? Get out there and have some fun!”

Letting out a laugh, you turn to Benson who’s watching the dancers with something like curiosity—and maybe just a hint of apprehension.

“You decide what you’re gonna write about yet wannabe-country boy?” You peer at him through your lashes, leaning closer so he can hear you speak over the loud music.

Your warm breath against his skin makes him shiver.

You miss the way his gaze flickers to your lips before darting back to your eyes, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

He clears his throat, trying to shake off the strange unexpected reaction. “Uh...n-not yet no.”

Your smile softens and you give him a reassuring nudge. “You’ll get there. You always do. Just let me know when inspiration strikes, ‘kay?”

With that, you give him a final playful wink before spinning away to join Taylor on the dance floor.

You’re immediately pulled into the rhythm of the music, laughing as Taylor spins you around.

From the sidelines Benson watches, standing next to your mom who has already struck up a conversation with someone nearby (but she kept an eye on him).

And honestly? He can’t take his eyes off you.

Under the string lights and with the bonfire flickering in the distance, there’s something different about you tonight.

You’re radiant, laughing freely as your face lights up with a glow that has nothing to do with the hat Taylor tossed on your head.

You move through the world so effortlessly, so full of life....

It was in this moment Benson realized just how much he enjoys your presence.

Yeah he always loved having you around, but now there’s something else—a shift, subtle but undeniable.

Lyrics begin to form through his mind, each word tied to the way you moved, to the weight of this new unfamiliar feeling.

How could something so delicate also be dangerous?

His heart beats a little faster, like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You glance back at him from the dance floor and something warm and unfamiliar settles in his chest.

I get so terrified that I’m gonna lose you...And I’ll die if I do...

You smile and wave him over, but Benson stays where he is. Instead he's frozen by this sudden, terrifying realization that he might be falling for you.

As if sensing what he was thinking, your mom nudges him gently. “Found your inspiration yet sweetheart?”

Her voice pulls him back to the present, but his gaze never leaves as you dance under the glow of the lights.

A soft, breathless sigh escapes him as he answers, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah...I think I have.”

It's a death wish love...

[mxtxfanatic]

It's been a while since I've read the novel, and I think I may have been corrupted by the fandom a bit, I just wanna ask you to be sure. Does Madam Yu's abuse of Jiang Cheng equate to Madam Yu's abuse of Wei Wuxian? I feel like she treated Wei Wuxian worse, but again, I don't remember much from the novel, and I keep on seeing posts that keep comparing Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian’s treatment in Lotus Pier. It's basically a picture of them together with the words "Nothing like childhood trauma from a dysfunctional family." I'm sure Jiang Cheng mistreated by Madam Yu, but I don't know, saying that he was treated the same way as Wei Wuxian was treated by Madam Yu seems like a stretch.

Before I get into it, I would like to say that you can be traumatized by witnessing abuse as well as experiencing it. Those two aren’t mutually exclusive. With that said, however, I, too, have seen people conflate the abuse that Wei Wuxian experiences under Madam Yu with the abuse that Jiang Cheng experiences under her. I'll answer with quotes though to show that while Madam Yu is abusive towards all the kids—particularly but not exclusively verbally—her abuse of Wei Wuxian is above and beyond what she is seen to do to her kids. The worst she has been shown to do physically towards her kids is smack Jiang Cheng’s shoulder while calling him weak and pinching Jiang Yanli’s cheek to the point of pain (while also insulting her) because she wanted to vent her anger and her daughter was conveniently close:

Madam Yu gave Jiang Cheng a sideways glance, “Fiddling about again? Come, let me see you.” Jiang Cheng went to her side. Madam Yu squeezed his arm with her slender fingers, then slapped his shoulder loudly, scolding, “There’s isn’t any improvement in your cultivation at all. You’re seventeen already, yet you’re still like an ignorant child, fooling around with others all the time. Are you the same as others? Who knows which sewers other people will be splashing in, but you’re going to be the leader of the Jiang Sect!” Jiang Cheng stumbled from the slap, head lowered, not daring to protest.

—Chapt. 51: Courage, exr

Yet, all of a sudden, someone’s quiet voice drifted by Madam Yu’s ear, “Mom, do you want to eat some watermelon...” Madam Yu was startled by Jiang YanLi, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. With the delay, all of the boys had vanished into thin air. She was so infuriated that she turned to Jiang YanLi and pinched her cheek, “Eat, eat, eat—all you do is eat!” Jiang YanLi almost cried from her mother’s pinching, mumbling, “Mom, A-Xian and the others were hiding here to relieve the heat and I came here on my own. Don’t blame them... Do... Do you want some watermelon... I don’t know who gave them to us, but it’s really sweet. Eating watermelon in the summer is great for cooling down and quenching thirst. I’ll cut them for you...” The more Madam Yu thought about it, the angrier she became, and with the summer heat on top of all that, she really began to crave watermelon. With all that... she grew even angrier.

—Chapt. 125: Lotus Seed Pod Extra, exr

Meanwhile, the average punishment she made Wei Wuxian endure was being whipped by her electrified whip before possibly being locked away in the ancestral hall for the day until Jiang Fengmian returned to the sect (meaning she was locking him away when she knew that the only other person who could challenge her authority and reign her in was gone to do this):

In the past, although Madam Yu had always come at him with harsh words, she had never truly been cruel to him. The most that he’d been through were two or three strikes and being grounded. He’d also be let out by Jiang FengMian soon later.

—Chapt. 57: Poisons, exr

Wei WuXian mused, “How did you know? That’s right. Madam Yu punished me almost every day.” Lan WangJi nodded, “I have heard of a few things.” Wei WuXian, “It’s so famous that even people outside Yunmeng, even you Gusu people know—how could it be ‘a few things’? But, to be honest, in all these years, I’ve never seen a second woman whose temper was as bad as Madam Yu’s. She told me to go to the ancestral hall and kneel no matter how small the matter was. Hahaha...”

—Chapt. 87: Loyalty, exr

Wei WuXian yelled, “Sorry! I didn’t know Shijie would come! I’ll go look for my clothes right now!” Madam Yu was even angrier, “How dare you run! Come back right now and kneel!” As she spoke, she let loose her whip with a flip of her wrist. Wei WuXian felt a searing pain slash across his back. He loudly exclaimed, “Ow!” And almost tripped on the ground.

—Chapt. 125: Lotus Seed Pod Extra, exr

These abuses are categorically not the same. Now, given the fact that Jiang Cheng treats Jin Ling like Madam Yu treated him (in some cases, worse) and then goes on to treat Wei Wuxian just like his mother before him, I’d hardly say the man thinks on his mother’s behavior as the negative influence it was, let alone enough to reflect on it as a source of trauma.

[gleefullypolin]

Another of my musings, shall we? Indulge me...

Today, let’s talk about why Cressida was never set up as a redemption story in Season 3, but simply as a lesson for our three main character leads…

I’ve seen a lot of discourse around the treatment of Cressida in Season 3, and I find it kinda funny because Cress has always been a side character and never a main plot point and it was very evident this season that it was still very much the case. In Season 3, she was what is known as a plot device. The point of a plot device is to jettison the main characters forward.

So, let’s look at how they used her to do that this season.

Eloise Bridgerton:

Cressida was a huge plot device in moving Eloise’s story along in a heavy way this season. El has been very close to being stuck in quicksand for a while now. What do we know about her character between S1 to now?

She doesn’t want to get married.

She believes that women are held back but is questioning her place in society and what to do about that.

She’s angry at Pen and feels betrayed by friendship currently.

So, when we last left her, her closest relationship ended because Penelope was Lady Whistledown, she realized she knew nothing about the one person she thought she was closest with, her belief that her say in the world as a woman was rocked, and the one connection with a man she ever had, Theo, dissolved before her.

She goes off to the country and meets up with Cressida, the one person who hates the person she also dislikes the most currently, who befriends her and thus we start the new season.

But in the story, Cress is now there to show Eloise a different side of the Ton. Eloise has always had a not so small issue…her mouth. It NEVER stops. She literally never shuts up. Pen was the type where she let her go on and on and on, and never stepped in to stop her. But Cress is like... Ok shut up, stop talking now and listen because bad shit is happening to me and I need you to hear about it.

And El finally saw that life outside the Bridgerton drawing room, was shit. Not every Mama will protect you from marriage you don’t want, not every word said at a ball stays between friends, and not every friend is welcomed by your family. El had to grow up this year. She had to learn that her family protected her from things others were subjected to.

El whispered in the ballroom about her brother helping Pen find a husband and that rumor spread like wildflower and El was quick to blame that on Cressida, only to find out that it was her own mouth that spread the rumor because she didn’t think, she just spoke loudly in the ballroom with no thought of consequence for her actions. And it was Cressida who had to point it out to her, Plot point made.

Cressida was desperate to escape a life her father was forcing her into. El could have easily been forced into marriage to a man thrice her age, but she was not. But she was still El. And El was caught up in her own worries with Pen/Colin suddenly announcing their engagement and she didn’t listen to Cressida’s concerns.  She didn’t see the desperation until it was too late, and Cress stood up and claimed she was Lady Whistledown.

It was only once Cressida, with no other alternatives left on her plate, and no loving parent to guide her, chose a path that led her to take actions against Pen/Colin by writing against the Bridgertons and blackmailing them that Eloise truly was forced to face herself and forgive Penelope and see the difference in how Pen wrote versus how someone with no remorse or responsibility held the quill. Plot point made.

But she then sees the difference in how Pen stands up and takes responsibility for her actions, faces consequences, holds her own as a woman of the ton and gives her back a bit of understanding that a woman can have a voice in the world. Now we see El facing that she has much to learn and going off into the world with excitement to find it.

Penelope Bridgerton:

Cress has always propelled Pen forward as a plot device, the evil queen who tortures the princess as the knight in shining armor comes to her rescue.

Case in point, Season 1, spills her drink, Colin to the rescue, I’m afraid I’m to escort Miss Featherington to the floor. Season 2, she tries to take Eloise from her, for her to be rebuffed, then she dances with Colin happily for him to only use her as a ruse to once again save Pen from Jack Featherington’s ruby scheme. And then Season 3, she does take Eloise from her, stands on her dress for Colin to chase after her, then tries to defeat her in her pursuit for Debling as a suitor.

All of these plot devices move Pen’s story forward. They have a purpose of either knocking her down a peg or by having a man dive in to rescue her thus making her feel important. This season ramped it up a notch as Cressida came after her true worth. Lady Whistledown. Sure, going after Debling was part of it, but one could argue that Debling was a red herring. Pen never truly cared about him. But Lady Whistledown was her true value.

Having Cressida take her prize, was the true crux of the plot device for Pen this season. Cressida stole her glory by claiming to be the one thing that Penelope truly felt she was worthy of. The power of Whisteldown. And once that was taken from Cressida by her proving to the Queen that Cressida was a fraud, once Pen felt she had beat her, Cressida struck the final blow in their showdown by trying to take away her worth and ruin her in the eyes of her family.

Having Cressida out her to her mother and then strike the blow to her new husband by demanding they pay her with blackmail and humiliation to destroy any hope of love and happiness that Pen had found was the final act of villainy in their story.

This was the part that Pen needed to propel her to take a stand, to allow her what she needed to say ENOUGH is ENOUGH and that she would not let this person take everything she loved away from her. She would not let Cressida deal the final blow in her life, her marriage, her family, her purpose. And it would not control her. And thus, she made her final move.

Colin Bridgerton:

Colin had a huge turning point with Cressida, and I did not see it coming. I will be honest when the scene came, I was like why the fuck are they wasting this scene between these two and he’s not having this conversation with this wife. But the more I sat on it the more it made sense because Colin couldn’t have this conversation with Pen. Because he was so hurt and so angry with Pen, he didn’t want to lash out and say mean things to her, but with Cressida, he didn’t care what he said to her. It was easier to say thing to someone he had no feelings for.

And thus, the blackmail conversation happened. Or Cressida/Colin’s Therapy hour was born. Because that plot point was exactly what happened. It was a way for us to hear Colin’s inner thoughts. In a book, it’s easy to know what the main character is feeling, because you read it. But in the show, you don’t get that intimate knowledge. Here we got to know what Colin was feeling.

He shared with Cressida that he left town wanting to hear from Pen, and when he didn’t, he withdrew from himself. He started to take away feeling, to hold back things he needed from others. He become Pod Colin! And then he talked to her about how Pen was treated by the Ton and by extension (CRESSIDA) He talked about loneliness and how that makes a person feel and for fucks sake he bared his soul.

And then he talked about how people pay this damned woman Whistledown to read what she has to say and boy if Cressida didn’t take 3 seconds to call him out for his whining and jealousy of his wife. Because that is what it was, and he recoiled as if she bit him. And thus, jealous Colin reared his ugly head. Plot point made.

And then Cressida, just like she had shown his sister, showed Colin, that outside the Bridgerton drawing room, life sucks. Cressida was able to hit him where things hurt, because she doesn’t care about Colin, she’s not Pen looking at him like he hung the moon, to Cressida, he’s just another spoiled Bridgerton. So, he gets to learn that you don’t always have a loving family to support you and welcome you back from mistakes and responsibility you don’t want with open arms. Sometimes your life just sucks, and you get forced to marry an old ugly man who wants 4 kids from you.

And then she charged him double for all her trouble and sent him home with his tail between his legs. Plot point made.

Colin now ready to accept that he failed, that he should have listened to his wife, and it was time to do things differently, returned to his wife perhaps ready to listen a bit more.

And thus, we see, that Cress was not a main character, she was there to propel our leads forward, to get them where they needed to be, and sometimes, just sometimes, the villain has to be the villain.

I’m not saying she will always be that, they did a good job making you feel sympathy for her this season, but this just wasn’t her season for redemption yet. Maybe in the future, but it wasn’t for Season 3.

[trendywaifus]

hey!! i saw that your reqs are open so i'd like to request hc of eula, hu tao, beidou and baal comforting their s/o who thinks that they're annoying and a burden because of their past relationships who made them believe that. e.g the s/o is afraid to talk about their interests because they feel like they're boring and annoying them. thank you so much in advance if you decide to write my request!! i hope the holidays are going well for you!

i like this one! remember everyone, don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re a less of a person. you’re more than they will ever be and you deserve more respect. someone who truly who loves and appreciate you will prove it! doesn’t even have to be a special someone, it can be family and friends. i’m also here for you whenever you feel like you’re at your lowest. (sorry for any errors and whatever im sleepy!)

— eula understands how you feel. coming from a widely—hated clan without any outside support, use to do a number on her. you feel as though nobody isn’t interested in how you feel or your interests. they look at you from outside lens and judge you without personally getting to know the real you—she understands. but don’t worry, she’s here to listen and unfold everything you’ve been wanting to say. she’s not good at comforting others but since it’s you, eula will do her best.

— you think you’re a burden? nonsense, don’t ever think like that; you make her darkest days bright. your smile, your laughter, it’s always engraved in her mind each time she fights and dances under the moonlight. you are one of her main sources of motivation, remember that. she’ll protect you with her life if she has to.

“ (name), that’s rather interesting, i could see you doing that, “ she says with a warm smile as you shyly tell her one of your interests. “ why didn’t you tell me sooner? “ you play with your hands nervously, gazing into her curious eyes, “ well, i’m use to others disregarding my interests. so. .i don’t really bother anymore.”eula’s face cutely scrunches up to a look of disdain and reaches out to hold your hand, her gloved fingers gingerly skimming across your palm. “ how unreal. my love, perhaps you should tell me who these others are? shall i enact vengeance on them? “

— like with eula, she understands how you feel in the realest level. she’s like the clown of the town, constantly getting talked about, judged, all of that stuff. yes, there’s times where she felt alone but she remembers her grandfather, zhongli, the traveller, and the friends she met as she breathes each day. there’s also you, how could she forget you? her special someone she dreams of so often.

— so when you tell her that you felt like a burden to others and to her, her usual cheery mood is gone from her face and hu tao’s serious. she listens, uncharacteristically quiet as she soaks in your words about your history with individuals who showed a lack of interest in you as a person. despite what was told about hu tao, she is a great listener.

“ my butterfly, all of what they said isn’t true, not at all.” her palm touches your cheek tenderly, she frowns. “ your voice is gentle to the ears; it managed to reach down and warm the cold, darkest feelings i’ve buried deep within my heart.” hu tao leans in to kiss between your eyebrows and pulls back with her signature smile. “ aiyah, you’re my muse after all. “

— as someone who’s been fighting for her life ever since she was a child, she understands how cruel teyvat and the people can be. she had to fight for respect and people to look in her direction. but now, she is a powerful captain with an excellent crew. she also has an amazing partner, a invaluable treasure that she would never give away and will protect with her life.

— when you spoke about your hesitance at revealing your interest to others, afraid of being seen as boring and uninteresting, beidou was shocked however she quickly recovered and continue to listen to you until you were done. she tells you how much she loves you with that toothy smile of hers and empathizes with how you feel.

she takes you into her strong arms, rubbing your back in a smoothing manner. “ sweetheart, you’re a strong person for openin’ up to me. don’t let anybody tell you otherwise, you’ve impacted my life in a positive way, i look forward to seein’ and hearin’ you talk everyday about anything and everything. don’t give those fool’s words anymore weight in your head than they already have, let it all be dead weight that you gotta start sinkin. “

— ei would genuinely be confused. it’s more like why could anyone mistreat you when you’re such a wonderful being? no matter how much she pondered at the thought of it even happening, she thinks the possibility is close to 0 and if it does happen, she will wipe the poor soul from existence.

— she is rather ignorant to social cues and not very quick in noticing human behavior unless it’s fear and anger. you have no reason to fear her and there’s nothing she has done to anger you. but when you show clear reluctance in telling her about your past and feelings when asked, she was worried but patient. when you finally unravel everything, ei felt terrible. how could she had not notice the signs? after this, ei’s more obliged to be more attentive towards your needs.

“ i. . see. “ ei grabs your wrist and gently guides you closer to her. her other hand places itself on the back of your neck and she rests your head against her chest in a comforting manner. “ i’m ashamed that i did not ask you this sooner and not being aware of your struggles. i will do whatever i can to make you feel how you make me feel, dear beloved. that’s one promise i will keep until i fall victim to erosion. “

[traumatas]

Saw your OC pie chart and was wondering- do you have a favorite OC? The one you spoil/draw/write the most and keep coming back to? Only if you feel like sharing!! :D

Very loaded question. At first I was like god a favorite OC? How shall I ever decide? But what am I fooling myself for? The obvious answer about who I keep coming back to would be Vince and Anise. They got to be the OCs of all OCs for me and my husband, I thinks.

This is them :]

And this is a little Vince Crochet Doll my husband made with little minifurniture that's all handmade too! He didn't. Have clothes till a few days ago which is why it took so long to answer this and my husband wants you to know he gave him decency just for you

And the rest was supposed to go under a read more but Tumblr didn't wanna make that work bc it's fuckinf busted, dude.

There's about a million AUs we have about them and I might focus more on the general idea of who they are.

So Vince and Anise, yeah? I'm going to try to stick a little with their ORGINAL scenario which we haven revisited in FOREVER.

Vince is a painter. Originally the entire base of him existing was the fact that I love the Van Goghs painting style a lot. The texture of it all, the subjects, etc, etc, you catch my drift? He used to live with his family but ended up kind of loosing his muse, in a way. Unsatisfied, maybe even struggling with selling his art at all and so he decided to take the leap to move to a town called Far Cove that's located on a Peninsula. Just removed himself from home in hopes to find new inspiration. He lives a little out of town, on a cliff, kind of old and run down house, not hooked up to the electric grid. Best he could afford. Very much your struggling artist Archetype. Rather pessimistic and reclusive at first, though at heart he's very much a people person and loves being around others. Big family guy too, hes the middle sibling of four. One older brother and two younger sisters that are twins.

Just kind of stuck in a huge creative slump.

Now Anise is a little harder to explain, but essentially, hes pure magic. A star come to earth in most scenarios wether he remembers or is aware or not. He works as a witch! Though his methods are very unconventional. He isn't doing things by the book, often not being taken for full, people not quite trusting his too good to be true offers. But he just loves helping people, firm believer of I help you and you help me. Kindness. Found his way to Far Cove, something rather magical about this place to him. Due to lore reasons. Anise powers are far beyond what he shows and he actually doesn't enjoy using his immense magical ability for big feats, part of it due to the trauma of being taken advantage off before. He can get quite intense when he truly believes in something.

In their original story set up he more or less wandered into Vince front yard, head to the ground looking for herbs and mushrooms. All while Vince enjoys his morning coffee and cigarette, looking out his kitchen window and watching this other person he's never seen start crawling under his porch.

To Vince Anise is very much an odd character at first but rather interesting. He's seen witches work in the city before, has heard of them and what they do but Anise is certainly different from that. All while Anise finds Vince equally as fascination because oh gosh! A painter! Isn't that neat.

What does he draw? Is it people, is it nature is it things that are only in his head? Anise is extrovert enough to also simply wish to make friends. After all he just moved here and at that point Vince been there a while.

Just... the whole romantic an sappy idea of someone becoming your new muse and allowing you to see things you thought you knew into a different like, allowing and helping Vince to find new joy in creating and away from what the city might have taught him he should draw like. And Vince giving Anise a sense of secutiy because he simply doesn't judge? He does not question the way he dresses or how he does his magic. Almost actively listening and encouraging and giving him outspoken support. Which is not something Anise is used to... he really wishes emotional connections and companionships.

Oh it might also be important to mention that they are like. Destined to find each other. Soulmates if you will...They are just huge comfort OC's for me and my husband... The world of Far Cove in general is VERY MUCH established, supporting characters, other OCs, even OCs we once had we integrated in here. Far Cove my beloved OC Universe.

[redroses07]

Day Off // Deke Shaw

Deke Shaw x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is stressed out with shield agent life, and Deke encourages her to take a day off and discover earth with him.

W/C: 2k

Warnings: Kissing, violence, end of the world, yk just basic stuff.

A/N: Hey guys!! This took much longer to write than anticipated, my apologies I've been insanely busy recently. I've really been wanting to write for Deke though because there is a LACK of fics for him on this app. Anyways, I really hope y'all enjoy, love you guys! ₊˚⊹♡

You and your Shield team had finally arrived back from the future, and you were relieved to say the least.

Being trapped in an unfamiliar place was horrifying, not that you and your team hadn't been through worse.

Just because you were back didn't mean you were in the clear, and discovering Daisy was the one who was going to cause the destruction of planet earth only made things more distressing.

Even though Daisy didn't currently have her powers you could see the fear in her eyes. You were worried for her, and so was the rest of your team. You had all been working tirelessly to stop the end of the world, and as important as it was the exhaustion was beginning to catch up to you.

Right now you were heading down the hall to meet with your team about the ever concerning anomalies that had been appearing in the lighthouse.

As you rounded the corner you felt yourself slam into something...or rather someone.

"You okay darling?" The all too familiar voice mused from above you.

Deke, the boy from the future. With his gray eyes and rugged features, who you had somehow managed to fall for. You knew he felt the same, but between the plethora of near death experiences the two of you hadn't had time to address your feelings.

"Shit! Deke, I'm sorry." You jumped back, examining where you had slammed into him.

Thankfully there was no noticeable damage.

You ran your hands through your hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Hey, it's okay! It barely hurt!" Deke spun around quickly, and did a silly little dance.

"See, I'm in tip top shape." He put on a goofy smile, causing you to give him one in return.

"Where are you off to?" Deke asked, you forgot that the team didn't always include him in their meetings.

"Oh, just, uh, meeting Daisy and everyone,"

"But I honestly just need a break, I'm so tired of running around all the time."

You leaned against the wall, the stress you were under feeling heavier than the weight of the world.

Deke gave you a sympathetic smile and lightly squeezed your hand.

You began to lean into him, and you began to feel as if you were handing him some of the stress you were carrying.

"Hey I have an idea." Deke exclaimed, taking your hands and turning you to face him.

"You should spend the day with me!" He suggested, his face just beaming with excitement.

"Deke...I don't know, they're expecting me-"

"Please! If they ask, just tell them you got sick or something." Deke pleaded, giving you the saddest puppy dog eyes you had ever seen.

You thought for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of your decision. Yes, you would waste the day having fun when you could be helping your teammates. Although, you would be getting a much needed recharge, and with your favorite person at that. And by the way, how could you say no to that face?

"Okay fineee." You gave in.

Deke pumped his fist in the air with excitement, earning a laugh from you.

"Oh my god, you can show me all of the cool earth things I've been wanting to try! Like every flavor of ice cream, and football! You know, since I only got here like a week ago.."

You truly didn't understand why he got on everyone's nerves so much. He was just excited to have a chance at living the life he always dreamed of in the future, and there was honestly something so refreshing about that. Deke didn't take advantage of anything, because he knew what it was like to have nothing.

"Of course, let me get dressed and then we can go. We've gotta be sneaky about it though."

"You've got it babe." Deke replied, shooting your finger guns and a wink. You rolled your eyes and walked off.

Once you got changed out of your casual clothes, and packed a small bag you hurried to meet Deke outside. You were sure to dodge any Shield Agents that were coming your way.

When you arrived at the exit, Deke was already waiting. When He saw you he excitedly pulled out a notebook and flipped to a specific page.

"I made a list of everything I want to do today! I know we might not be able to do it all but i put little stars next to my favorites." Deke pointed to the tiny stars he had drawn next to several items on his, not so short to do list.

"You make me laugh you know that?" You said, snatching the notebook from his hands to look over it.

"Is it too much?"

"No, It's perfect." you looked up to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, causing his cheeks to turn a bright pink shade.

"Okay lets go!" You pulled him behind you as you headed toward your car that was parked in the nearby parking garage.

"I think this is my first time in one of these." Deke exclaimed as you drove towards your first destination.

"Well, is it everything you dreamed it would be?"

"Honestly, it's kinda underwhelming."

You let out a laugh, quickly turning to the side to make eye contact with Deke who was also laughing.

"I totally agree."

When you arrived at your first stop, Deke was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

"You brought me to the beach?"

"I noticed that one had two stars next to it." you replied, pointing to the notebook laying on your console.

"I know it's not warm enough to get into the water, but we can at least walk on the sand and put our feet in."

"Are you kidding? This is amazing." Deke reached over into the driver's seat and hugged you tightly.

He quickly jumped out of the car and started racing towards the shore.

"Be careful! It's easy to fall on sand." You called, remembering how you had to get used to the way your feet sunk into the sand when you were a child.

Just as the words escaped your lips Deke fell face first into the sand.

Your heart raced worriedly as you rushed over to see if he was okay.

"Oh my god! I told you to be careful!" You snapped, leaning down to examine Deke who was still laying flat in the sand.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Deke rolled over, spitting sand out of his mouth.

You reached out your hand and helped him up, rolling your eyes as you did.

"Please watch yourself from now on." You said, refusing to loosen your grip on his hand.

After that care, not that the two of you hadn't gone through worse, you kept Deke close.

Were you really concerned, or were you using it as an excuse? That wasn't a question that needed to be answered.

As the two of you strolled towards the sore, hand in hand, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. Wander back to the unspoken feelings between the two of you. It's not as if nothing physical had ever happened between the two of you, holding hands and cuddling wasn't uncommon and you had even shared a kiss a few times, but nothing was ever really discussed.

Now was your long awaited chance, just the two of you, without impending doom hanging over your heads.

Well for the moment at least.

"Hey Deke..."

"mhm?" Deke stopped and looked up at you, tracing his thumb over your palm as he did.

"You know how I feel about you right?"

"What?"

"Everything that's happened, it's not just nothing. I really like you, just between the end of the world and time traveling I don't think I've remembered to tell you." You said all this without taking your eyes off Deke's.

You loved the way he looked at you, with such adoration.

For once, Deke didn't respond with his words but rather his actions. Without hesitation, he cupped your face and pressed many kisses to your lips, cheeks, and forehead.

He stopped to look at you, a giddy look on his face.

"Wait? So are we like, boyfriend and girlfriend now?" Deke said half jokingly.

"Only if you want to be." You got your answer when Deke kissed you again, this time with much more force. It was unlike any of the other kisses you two had shared, there was a sense of raw emotion behind it that hadn't been there before.

On your walk back to the car you leaned comfortably into Deke, no longer needing to worry about if it was 'too much'.

You began driving to your next activity, something that was a favorite of yours that you hoped he would really enjoy.

You pulled into the parking lot of your favorite dockside diner, and you could already smell the greasy french fries, and sizzling burgers. You watched as couples and groups of teens strolled down the dock, holding ice cream cones from the shop nearby.

Once you and Deke walked inside you found a waiter to get you a seat. You were seated quickly, and ordered drinks.

"So, is this somewhere you come a lot?"

"Yes, this is my favorite restaurant, and you haven't lived if you haven't had greasy American diner food."

Deke looked around at the place, excitedly examining everything. Once it came time to order, Deke couldn't decide between a bacon cheeseburger or chicken and waffles, so you agreed to get both and have half each.

Once your food arrived, you both ate quickly. Deke continuously snatched fries from your plate, stating each time that it was his last one. You ended up having to swat his hand away, claiming the rest of the fries.

Once you were finished you paid the bill and led Deke out to the dock.

You noticed him eyeing the ice cream parlor, so you asked him if he was up for dessert.

He happily agreed and ordered as many flavors of ice cream as they could fit on the cone. You doubted all those flavors would even taste good mixed together but as long as it made Deke happy.

You walked slowly down the dock, ice cream in one hand, and Deke's hand in the other.

At this point in the day the sun was beginning to sink below the clouds, and the temperature had dipped even lower. You realized you had forgotten to bring a jacket, as you had not planned to be out this late.

You began to shiver, and Deke took notice quickly. He pulled off his jacket, the one he wore nearly every day and offered it to you.

"Well won't you be cold?" you protested.

"Nah, temperatures were crazy in space, a little wind doesn't bother me."

You gave him a sympathetic smile and allowed him to wrap the jacket around your shoulders.

You decided to end your day sitting at the end of the dock and watching the sun sink between the clouds. Deke slipped his hand around your waist as the stars began to fade into view.

"It's so beautiful here, there weren't many beautiful things to look at where I used to live."

This filled you with sadness, and reminded you of the suffering Deke experienced his whole life.

"Deke, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to live a life like that." You whispered softly, nuzzling your nose into his neck.

"Well it may have sucked, but you know what? It led me to you."

You looked up to make eye contact with your boyfriend. He tucked a few loose pieces of hair behind your ears, and kissed you on the forehead.

"And you are more beautiful than all the stars in the sky combined."

Taglist: @nikki-is-a-nerd @somestardeww

[quinloki]

Sabo - Control / Obedience (+ Ace)

Reader style - she/they, afab (No pronouns were used in the final result) Time slot - Business Hours Client Name - (⌐■_■) Anonymous! CW: Clothed Massages

Seated in a private room with two young hosts, you were in the midst of a very relaxing situation. Ace’s hands were working the knots out of your shoulders - even through your blouse his warm hands and the skill he had learned was doing wonders. The couch you were seated on had a lower than usual back, but the cushions were firm, and it was easy to lean into it while he worked.

Knelt on the floor at your feet, one of them in his hands, Sabo was carefully massaging your foot.

“Doing alright down there?” Ace questions, grinning down at Sabo.

“Quite.” Sabo’s answer is a little curt, but there’s a bright smile on his face.

“I can get you a cushion.”

Sabo’s bright smile twitches, warm fingers pushing into the sole of your foot a little more roughly than he probably meant, but not nearly enough to be discomforting. “I haven’t the need, thank you.”

“Not too uncomfortable for someone as delicate as you?”

“Sabo are you uncomfortable?” You question, an amused note in your voice.

“I’m hardly delicate.” He huffs. “And I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t understand why you let that brute grind your shoulders into dust with his technique.”

You can feel Ace’s fingers twitch, the heat in his palms getting warmer for a second before he calms down. “Second guessing the client’s requests isn’t very gentlemanly, Sab.”

“I’m not second guessing, I’m asking for clarification.”

You know the bickering between them is part of their deal. You’ve seen the two of them outside of the club a few times, where they lived and where you lived was close enough, but somehow they managed to shift into things so naturally you could easily believe it all.

Enjoying the banter was part of why you set up appointments with both of them so often. Plus it was really hard to just pick one or the other. They were both almost frustratingly hot.

“Clarification huh,” you muse, reveling in your position and control, flexing your foot a little and grinning down at Sabo. “Alright.”

You leaned back against the couch a little further, truly looking down at Sabo, practically leering. You could see that gentlemanly facade of his crack a little, but he didn’t complain about your position, or pause for that matter.

“You’re always such a prim and proper gentleman, Sabo, the idea of having you on your knees beneath me like this was too good to pass up.” You admit, a little bit of haughtiness in your tone.

You wiggle your toes teasingly when Sabo stops, and he clears his throat, resuming his work on your foot. He's silent for just a few more seconds, a rare moment where you're certain he's measuring his reply before committing to it.

“Perhaps you’d like to come visit us after hours, some day.” He muses, setting your foot down.

“Oh?” You hum, delighted to get an official invitation.

Sabo stands up, taking your offered hand in his, kissing the back of it as he is want to do more often than not, and flashes you a smile that promises far more depravity than his words.

“Indeed, I would love to show you just how skilled I am on my knees, seeing how much you enjoy it.”

One Piece Host Club AU drabble event runs through December 2023

[the-collector-blog]

i hope hugo's story and characterization are given the proper nuance. and that the "curse" doesn't determine one's path. after all, if this is a familial curse, that implies all of his siblings were destined to become evil etc... and it's just... it's always a tricky thing to attribute a family's vile behavior to something inherent and uncontrollable.

TW for below: [general reference to] abuse, cycles of it, villainizing survivors

like, let's say his father was so vile because of the curse, and hugo was destined to become that way as well. isn't that fucked up? not everyone who survives abuse becomes an abuser. ... i'm hoping they treat this with nuance and show that cycles of abuse can be broken, and that nobody becomes that evil for reasons outside their control. idk.

hugo says that the only one who can kill or save himself is himself— implying that lycaon taking him out "when the time comes" won't actually work, and that maybe jack wasn't 100% right.

ig jack saw hugo's beliefs and mindset and determined that he would become corrupt someday. maybe he was right to think that. idk, i do think that it would be far more meaningful for everyone involved to choose their own path. for lycaon to figure out for himself what he wants to do (rather than strictly adhering to what jack told him), for hugo to choose a better path.

we're given glimpses of a hidden depth to hugo— and i honestly don't believe that anything we're shown/told about were times when he lost himself/lost control of his mind or actions. whether in agony/pain or completely calm, he displays or admits to the exact same mentality. plus, again i truly believe that he and lycaon staged everything at the end there. (trust me here)

and like... idk, i think lycaon lacks a full understanding of how hugo feels towards his father and such. sometimes, it's not just hatred and anger for what someone did driving you to seek vengeance on them. sometimes, it's the genuine understanding that "holy fuck, this person has committed horrors and will only continue doing so."

you can have trauma, and even want an abuser gone, but that does not mean you're going to actually put that into action. in fact, that outlook is extremely common for survivors of abuse, yet they're FAR more likely to continue to be victimized and harmed than commit such harm. so, imo, what hugo intended to do was a separate thing. it was not from hatred, trauma, some selfish desire to exact revenge, or a curse.

listen... i don't know much about zzz, and have only learned some about harumasa's story and character. so i don't know how they will handle hugo exactly. But from the little i have seen, they do seem to understand things like why people Might want to....take out the CEO of a horrifically evil corporation (ahem). and how corrupt systems and people can be.

atp this is all just my own musings on the guy and his story, but i wanted to share. literally all just my own opinions and yapping

[daisyjonesgf]

Muse wrote “man of the house” by Rachel Zeglar about Billy

~~~~~

“How sweet

You're the man of the house to me”

Muse fully sees Billy as her future. He will be the “man of her house” yk?

~~~~~

“I watch you from the window and I see the good in you

The good in me”

When Billy is doing good Muse truly sees the good in him. She sees the two of them together and thinks about how sweet and good they can be together

~~~~

“That's who you are

And what I need

It's what I need”

Muse just knows that the way Billy acts when he’s high or drunk or having his fits isn’t the real him, he’s just acting up. He’s good! She swears! And she desperately needs that goodness from him.

~~~~

“I curse your name

It brought me pain and now

Without you, I don't know how to be”

In moments where they’re bad muse really does curse him, curse the fact that she stays, the fact that without him she doesn’t know who she is. Muse literally NEEDS him, her soul yearns for his. At this point he’s nestled into her heart and he can’t be removed.

~~~~~

“Hurts so bad it brings me to my knees

I still believe”

What Billy has put her through hurts Muse, it’s physically painful. That pain you get in your heart when the emotions are too much. I don’t doubt she’s fallen to her knees sobbing, it has tugged at her heart yet she still believes he can be good. She beloved deep down he loves her.

~~~~~~

“You're breaking my heart in the best of ways”

Despite the fact that Billy breaks her heart she comes back because the pain that he puts her through feels better than not having him at all.

“How many versions of myself will it take?”

Muse would genuinely change for him, she’s asked him how she could change, she wonders who she has to be for him to love her.

“How many men I've seen with a similar face

I always look for you in so many ways”

So idk how to put this but Billy truly is just a man, rockstars act like him all the time and muse has been around these stars her whole life. She is fully aware rockstars act like this but she believes Billy would be different.

She looks for him in a crowed, she looks for him at home, she’s constantly trying to be around him.

~~~~~~

“With all of my love comes all of the pain”

Muse knows that her love for Billy is what is causing her pain, if she was able to let go she’d be happy, she wouldn’t go through the pain he gives her. But she can’t let him go.

~~~

“You come and you go and I stay the same”

Billy is so much of a push and pull, he leaves muse and he comes back, nothing about muse changes but the way billy acts you would think something about her changes. But nothing has, Billy comes and goes and muse stays.

“But if you came back now, I'd take your name”

Despite everything Billy has put muse through if he came to her and called him hers, said they’re together, say he wanted to be married one day, all of it, she would immediately be with him.

~~~~~

“How does it feel to be God?

How does it feel to be God?

I'm in the palm of your hand

I'm in the palm of your hand”

Okay let’s be honest, Billy has somewhat of a superiority complex. He plays god with Muse’s feelings, with her hope, with her love, she is just in the palm of his hand.

~~~~~~

This song just FEELS sad, it has so much yearning, it’s idolizing someone you can’t have (in the show Juliet sings this after finding out Romeo has been exiled). Muse reaches out to Billy, she strains herself, she reaches so hard she rips her muscles, yet he barely reaches back.

anyway if you haven’t listened to the song I’d recommend you listen to it!

-🌾anon

oh rachel zegler, the love of my life fr

and and muse basically lives with billy, he's the one working by being the rockstar, she just goes where he does, follows his plans, let's him make decisions for what happens in life very "man of the house" behavior

muse can also see them from like an outside perspective, from old pictures and videos, from just thinking back, and despite the bad times see all the good that billy harbors as well as the good she has in her

she just knows who billy is on the inside and needs that version of him so bad that she'll come back everytime for that version of him, it's like she's addicted to billy dunne

it's like billy has tattooed himself on her heart, there is no escape, no matter how many times things crumble to pieces she genuinely doesn't know what to do with her life if it's not devoted to him, it's why she struggles so much when he goes to rehab, she realizes she's given up so much sense of self, so much individuality, intertwining herself with him, their needs and wants into one, rather than separation

muse has so much belief that things will somehow, at least somewhat change someday, that even though the hurt has her sobbing, drinking, doing more drugs, acting out, she'll always let him back in

the hurt it also all muse knows, she's adapted to except the cycle, so when billy does get better she has her freak out bc it's not what she's used to, it's not even just an addiction to billy, but an addiction to the cycle itself that she has to overcome

and muse has changed, evolved over time ("I changed into goddesses, villains, and fools, changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules" is what that made me think of, they're also so cososom coded) as she was with billy, sometimes consciously and sometimes not, to try and cling onto him, not like changing herself or who she is, but the way she approaches the situation, all of it though it still so her

AND listen guys, follow me here, muse looks for parts of billy in eddie, I do in fact think it's part of why she loves him. she's found parts of billy reflected in eddie, and in fact, she looks for pieces of billy in everyone. even when they're not together, everywhere she goes she finds pieces of him in everything.

muse also knows and understands that it's her love for him and his love for her that is scaring him into lashing out to try and protect himself somehow, and yet she cannot let go, she can't loosen it at all

billy will go from treating muse like she hung the moon and stars to acting like she's ruined his life. and it's baffling bc it's not like she's loving him any differently, it's all in his own head

everytime billy does come knocking, muse does take him back, they could literally fight, break up, and then he could show up and ask to marry her and she would.

and muse feels so out of control of herself, over her emotions, all of it relies on billy, his mood, attitude, love, everything. she has to learn independence, learn who she is outside of being affected by him.

oh my shayla, my shaylaaaaaa 😢

[hymemena]

My On Repeat Sentence Starters Part Four

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.

CW: Murder, death, murder of a parent, sickness, suggestive, threats, death threats, mental health

—

Pavement - Harness Your Hopes

"Harness your hopes on just one person."

"A harness was only made for one."

"I'm checking out the asses."

"Someone's gonna cash in."

"Show me a word that rhymes with pavement."

"I won't kill your parents and roast them on a spit!"

"You're gonna catch a bad, bad cold."

"The goth kid has a hearse."

"A nun is to church as the parrot is to perch."

"My heart's wide open, truly."

In This Moment - Adrenalize (Mr. Kane Remix)

"Come a little bit closer."

"Let me tell you how I want it."

"I'm only here for one thing."

"I need to feel."

"I must confess, I'm addicted to this."

"I can't deny, I'd die without this."

"I crave excess."

"Make me feel like a God."

"So, tell me. Can you feel this?"

"Are you ready to feed?"

The Front Bottoms - Lonely Eyes

"You've got me stuck to where I'm sitting."

"I know, I'm so pathetic."

"I wouldn't move to save my life."

"I try to tell you jokes."

"I'm afraid you'll cry."

"It's okay if you're unhappy."

"Just take a look around, there's no one here that's happy either."

"You are my world."

"If for some reason you don't feel like talking, I could just sit and enjoy your company."

"They count on you to leave, 'cause it's always been that way."

Brad Sucks - In Your Face

"It's not a good strategy."

"You should grow up, try to act like you're civilized."

"I just valued sincerity."

"You should go fuck yourself and try to die."

"You were sick of it and called me an idiot and left town."

"Are you satisfied?"

"If I had what you hate, I could get you to break."

"No, I'm not in your face!"

"I would not be defeated by any man that couldn't see I was always right."

"I don't mean to offend but you're the dumbest motherfucker I've seen tonight."

AViVA - PARALYZED

"Dark or light don't matter when you're feeling like me."

"I culd be on stage."

"Come a little closer."

"Sick of wanting to scream?"

"Hold on."

"Feeling kinda freaked out!"

"Is this called insecure?"

"I don't know where I should go."

"I don't really get why I'm holding on when I really want to let go."

"I don't understand."

[amemoire]

libra owo 4 lyney

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ⊹ — LIBRA .

≻how does your muse bring balance to their surroundings ? ㅤㅤLyney is amazing at connecting people and creating a friendly atmosphere. He can read the room and tell when things are in need of a brighter mood or when its best to have a slow approach. While his magician persona is known for his cheerful, mid to high energy, he actually tends to adjust this in accordance with his company. So I guess you could say he often IS the balance.

ㅤㅤMuch of this is owed to the fact that he's skilled in observing others. Give him a few minutes in a room full of strangers and he can quickly pick out who is likely to be introverted or extroverted, timid or outspoken, friendly or prickly and so forth. Paint or ink stains may indicate an artist. A strong build and quick reflexes might be an athlete or bodyguard. A lack of calluses shows a privileged life. He uses this information, builds on it, and works his magic.

≻ is your muse a people pleaser ? ㅤㅤAbsolutely, are you kidding me. His entire persona is meant to be someone adored by all. He's constantly doing his best to upkeep his reputation and bring smiles to everyone's faces. The great magician, an absolute charmer. He'll steal your heart with one conversation or turn that frown upside down with a single trick. The kids love him, women adore him, some men want to BE him !

ㅤㅤAt home, he doesn't hesitate to run around and make sure everyone is happy, healthy, and cared for. Whatever they want or need, he'll do his best to fulfill it. Anything for his beloved siblings. And with the added pressure of being Father's successor, he especially wants to please her and keep her approval.

ㅤㅤIf he were to let anyone down, it weighs on him something heavy. Sometimes he feels so guilty that his conscience might not let up for a while. It's due to self-imposed expectations and his own internal crisis that he feels the constant need to essentially live for others.

≻ how does your muse navigate justice & mercy ? ㅤㅤIn a way, Lyney has his own sense of justice. He's seen people both at their best and their worst. Seen what they do when they're on the streets with no other options. Seen how power and greed can turn someone into a monster. He's trusted and been betrayed but he's also trusted and known unending protection. Let's not forget how he waited a literal decade to bring justice to his deceased mentor.

ㅤㅤHe knows full well that no system is without flaws, even that of the nation of justice itself. Things aren't just black and white. There are always gray areas and that is where he dwells. He lets his heart guide him and holds close to his own beliefs, carefully navigating this gray area. A person's past shouldn't define them but the weight of that past may change things. Similarly, it can't be used to justify their present or future. Admittedly, there are also those who truly are just black and white. ( He's thankful for them because it makes things easier ).

ㅤㅤAnd so this complicates his relationship with mercy. He wants to believe in it. He really does. But his line of work has only shown him the dangers that come along with it. Imagine sparing someone's life only for them to harm someone you love. Or letting them off the hook only for them to return to their same old schemes. Lyney has learned not to hesitate when there is a job to be done. But he isn't— and will never be— heartless. He can afford mercy in certain situations. Petty crimes or someone practically held at gunpoint. Those that were bribed, just trying to get by. He can discern those from all the rest because he himself has been in that position. They'll still have to answer for what they've done, but not as heavily.

≻ how does your muse handle having to confront someone ? ㅤㅤDepends on the situation. Most times, he aims to have a peaceful approach. If he can avoid having any kind of fight, then that's the goal. ( Calm conversation where they can make up or reach a compromise ). It's worth noting that he isn't above apologizing or going out of his way IF that's the best course of action, but he won't let anyone walk all over him either. He's no stranger to situations in which neither party can come to an agreement and that's fine. Being that I hc he also handles talks in place of Arlecchino when needed, he's a skilled negotiator and you'd be hard pressed to find him unprepared. When someone believes they have the advantage, that's exactly what he wants them to think.

ㅤㅤIn confrontations where violence may be necessary, Lyney will still try to talk things out as he's never been one for brute force. Even should he personally have qualms with the situation— it's important for the leader to know restraint. But as seen during the Meropide storyline, this can all go out the window when it involves his family. The worry and anxiety eats away at his reason. He tries to remain calm but you can see it. Hear it. His voice strained with fear and/or anger. Hands tense, restless, fidgeting with his cards, bow, or gloves. If he knows where they are, then he'll do whatever it takes to gain the upper hand. But if he doesn't and his fear reaches a certain point, he'll be in no mood to have a talk first. It goes straight to fighting and he is prepared to KILL if that's what it takes.

[the-haunted-office]

What do you wish other writers in the RPC would do more often?

Describe any thread you’d like to write!

Want Meme for the Muns

What do you wish other writers in the RPC would do more often?

It's really hard for me to put into words, because it all comes down to your crowd and who you choose to interact with. But for me, personally, what I wish? In the RPC in general, I wish people would show more appreciation for their writing partners, if they are ones they truly enjoy interacting with and want to keep around and want them to keep posting content for them to enjoy. I mean, we're all here for the same reasons - to share our characters and content with others, and to play our muses together, but it can be really discouraging when you feel like you're just... shouting into the void and you share things with people and you don't even get so much as a "like" on the things you share. It makes you feel ignored and like there's no point.

But, it all comes down to finding your crowd, you know? Because the people who enjoy you and who appreciate you, will show that they do. I think it takes so little time to show that you appreciate someone's presence on your dash, and that can make all the difference in the world. It takes just a couple seconds to hit the "like" button, a couple seconds to send in a headcanon ask, a few minutes of your time to respond to someone's open starter. It takes so little to make your writing partners feel seen and appreciated. I wish people would do more of that for each other.

Describe any thread you’d like to write!

fdasfasf EVERYTHING ALL THE THINGS. We have so many threads going and I love them all. xD Dead serious about that! I'm just so happy to have people writing with me, all threads make me happy!

A thread I'd really like to write, hmm... I would really like Ed and Doom to be able to share more about themselves with each other. There's so much for them to talk about, I'm just not sure how to get them there. I'm sure it'll come up when the time is right. I'd love to have Ed meet Doom's niece, Mae, too!!! That's one I definitely want to write. x3

[lostusagis]

@jiraipink asked:

"The first thing I noticed about you? Well... When I first met you, I remember accidentally bumping into you and thinking 'Oh he's really pretty.' Eheheh. That's probably normal for you to hear, right? I'm sure most women think that when they see you. However..." She cups her chin and stares down at his boots. The memory comes as a welcomed old friend through the door. A bashful, yet warm smile on her face when thinking fondly of that moment when he obliged to partake in her stupid prank and then looking both concerned for her and confused after his mistake. An honest idiot. A cute honest idiot. "What drew me in was... your willingness to help me. How you... didn't abandon me when I was in desperate help. How you expressed concern over my wellbeing."

A laugh suddenly escapes her as she scratches behind her head awkwardly. "Ahahaha! Th-Though, we ended up hating each other that day because of what I said, I honestly appreciated how you decided to show me a place where I could stay and didn't leave me alone since then.... I was really scared all by myself in this world, Mui. I was even scared of you admittedly, but... You didn't leave me there to die, despite you not liking me very much." She lowers her hand away from her head and twiddles her thumbs. Her gaze blinking slowly at the jewelry she's wearing on her fingers. They were the same ones she wore the day that they met.

"So even though my first thought was that you were pretty, the first impression you TRULY left on me that I noticed about you was... How kind you are." Funny, right? Especially how he acted towards her after attempting to help her. Yet, the reality was that he was kind to Namida when willing to assist her. It was as if... he was always meant to help her, because of how natural and casual he complied to her. She recalls feeling bad for saying something insensitive as a defense mechanism which led to their rocky relationship. Could... things have been different between them had she just trusted him from the get-go?

Oh how grateful she felt indeed to have met someone who could help her not get lost and not make her feel alone. He was someone who always distracted her of such lonely and homesick thoughts whenever they bickered or teased each other. Even now, he continues to help her. So so much. More than he knows. Cherished memories that evoke positive nostalgia. It was at this time she looks up at him with a shimmer in her amethyst eyes; staring at him for a brief moment of silence. Her black platform shoes then slowly leaning up on the tips of her toes and...

Chu~ ♡

Her pink glossy lips blesses his forehead with a gentle kiss that lingered there for a few more seconds. When she pulls away, her feet are planted flat again and she whispers with the most sweetest smile only Kamui can manifest. "Thank you, Kamui... Thank you for not giving up on me." (Bye I'm about to cry FUCK-)

what’s the first thing your muse noticed about mine? 

Kamui was definitely really interested in the first thing Namida noticed about him, although he wasn't too fond of the fact that they didn't get along when first meeting.....

Although, when she says the first thing she noticed was how pretty he was, Kamui couldn't help but smile. ''I do get complimented on my appearance a lot yeah, but I only like it when I hear it from you. It meant more from Namida because he knew her, and valued everything she thinks above all else. If she didn't think he was attractive, he'd probably be really bummed out over that. Kamui definitely knew she was complimented a lot herself. She was probably the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Although, other guys..... looking at her the way he did.... Made him annoyed.

She was talking and he just kept thinking that when looking at her, but he had been listening intently to every word she'd say. He ended up really surprised when she'd say how kind he was. Namida mentioned kind things he did for her, and he'd feel.... embarrassed.

He didn't like being called kind, he was used to be referred to as scary, intimidating.... things like that. Not kind. No one ever called him kind.

She was calling him kind. She thought he was kind....

Well, he thinks about it.... she was the only one he didn't act awful towards, he treated her like he treasured her a lot, which was true. He did. She was important to him. But being called kind.....

He'd look down, cheeks red from the way his image was being ruined.

Kind... he was kind. Not intimidating. He was pouting over this. Although, when she went ahead and kissed his forehead and whispered what she did his eyes widened. Then looking at her silently for a few seconds. He was just..... astonished.

Namida thought these things about him. Thought he was kind.

Kamui pulled her towards him, keeping a grip on her wrist.

''You think that even after seeing me kill? Seeing me lost control?'' He questions, wanting to know.

''I hope you know, even when I am in control, I still kill. I enjoy it too. I find it fun. I'm not going to lie and hide it from you. I'm a bad person, and you think I'm kind? You can still say I'm a kind person after me telling you that?''

He'd look at her completely seriously, he wanted her to at least know that if she really wholeheartedly thought he was kind. If she can still say he was kind even after finding that out, then... well... he'll think she was crazy. But he'd probably like her even more because of that.