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heliantart · 26 days ago

Text

❝HIRAETH❞

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«Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.» - No Man is an Island

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Soundtrack : ❝ Eyes Wide Open ❞ - Tony Anderson

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❝This mask was the conditio sine qua non for existing as I am.❞ — Deuce, One Piece Novel A

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❝ A Pencil and a Dream ❞ MASKED DEUCE

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WHILE DEUCE HAD A PARTICULAR TALENT for writing, she excelled in the arts. She was so attractive when she painted and drew, that it was difficult to take your eyes away from her.

It was for her particular talents that Arlys embarked on the Piece of Spadille after meeting two odd pirates on Sabaody island; a flamboyant young man and a masked writer.

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Sitting on the deck of the Peace of Spadille, Arlys found herself painting a new pirate flag. The previous one had been accidentally incinerated by one of their captain's overly powerful attacks.

As the crew's artist, Arlys was ideally suited for the task. Although she preferred to paint freely, she didn't mind tracing the symbol of their crew. She was able to memorise it with her fingertips, so that she could redraw it later on the pages of her sketchbook. She applied herself diligently to the task she had been given, taking only a few breaks to stretch and admire the island they were moored at.

A little further out on deck, a familiar figure was watching her out of the corner of his eye.

Deuce was about to join his comrades on the shore, but was interrupted when he saw the young woman busying herself.

As the weeks went by, he had quickly noticed her homebody nature. Arlys liked to stay on the boat most of the time, and was often on watch during stopovers.

Recently, however, he had noticed her hesitancy when the crew disembarked on an island. Over the last few days, the idea of leaving the boat had seemed to tempt her, and today was no exception.

Deuce stepped towards her.

- “Arlys?”

The latter looked up from the flag in her hands and met the young writer's eyes. Curious, she gave him her undivided attention.

- “Deuce?”

- “I'm going to explore the island too, do you want to join me?”

She remained undecided for a few moments, returning her gaze to the flag with the Jolly Roger almost finished, then to Deuce, then to the flag... Before finally deciding to follow him. Spending time with Deuce was a pleasant prospect after all.

She stood up, and laid the banner next to Kotatsu, who was asleep, lazily stretched out on the deck, enjoying the sun.

- “Keep an eye on this for me, Kotatsu.”

After a final pat on the head, and a questioning, sleepy meow from the animal, Arlys joined her comrade, taking with her a satchel that Deuce guessed was filled with her drawing supplies.

- “Let's go.”

She smiled at him, and Deuce's cheeks turned a light crimson.

He smiled back and they headed for the heart of the island.

While Arlys loved the peace and quiet of the ship, walking outside and discovering new islands was also a great source of inspiration for her.

They strolled around the city for several hours. So much so that the afternoon was drawing to a close. So they decided to visit the festival in the city centre.

After passing some of their companions, most of whom were busy eating their fill, Arlys soon noticed that Deuce seemed rather interested in the Ferris wheel. Of course, she was unaware that his last memories of the attraction were not the best, and in fact dated back to his and Ace's last visit to Sabaody.

- “Do you want to get in?”

Hearing the woman's voice surprised him. It was true that she didn't normally talk much. But before he had a chance to protest, Arlys gently pulled him by the arm, in the direction of the attraction.

She simply nodded in response to the ride steward, who greeted them, and climbed into the cabin without delay, dragging Deuce with her.

The atmosphere was much calmer and more pleasant than Deuce remembered; the last time he'd been on a Ferris wheel had been at Sabaody, in the presence of Ace and Iska, and the tension between them had been so heavy that all he'd thought about during the ride was getting out. For his part, Ace had seemed totally oblivious of the heavy gaze the young marine had been giving them all along.

This time, however, Arlys' presence made the atmosphere more comfortable. She had dropped his sleeve and sat down on one of the crimson seats. Deuce sat directly opposite to her.

Before the ride had even started, Arlys had already taken her sketchbook out of her satchel and, pencil in hand, was already sketching whatever had caught her eye.

──•••──

What Deuce didn't know was that she hadn't just immortalised the panoramic view from the top of the Ferris wheel. She had also sketched the writer's pensive profile, capturing every expression. Transcribing with the tip of her pencil the emotions of wonder that seemed to gleam in his eyes. This side of the pirate was refreshing, and Arlys had to make do with quick glances to detail his face. But as soon as she had more or less finished, she allowed herself to look at him without hiding behind her sketchbook, also occasionally casting her attention to the outside of the cabin.

No longer hearing the steady scratching of the graphite on the paper, which he found somehow soothing, Deuce looked away from the window to meet the pensive gaze of the artist, who was still watching him wordlessly.

- ‘’You stopped drawing? Did you finish your work?”

Caught off guard, Arlys kept her composure and nodded quietly. Rummaging for a moment through her numerous sheets of paper stamped with sketches, she hid the freshly sketched portrait by putting her drawing of the view from the Ferris Wheel, which she had done earlier, back on top.

Deuce didn't seem to notice that the woman's gaze had lingered on him for several minutes. ‘Good,’ she thought.

She then held out her illustration. Deuce picked it up delicately, and carefully observed the meticulous details of the pencil sketch.

He remained fascinated by her technique for a moment.

- “It's very well done.”

The landscape she had depicted seemed to pulse with life, and Deuce didn't even know what compliment to use. He was happy that Arlys was showing him some of her work. Although he would have liked to see a few more.

At last he took his eyes off the sketch and handed it back to her. Quite unconcerned by the simplicity of his comment, she thanked him for his compliment.

- “Is there a reason you joined the crew?”

Keen to seize the opportunity to have a conversation with the young artist, Deuce had asked the first question that came to his mind.

Although he had been there when Arlys had joined the crew, he had never really known her motives. For a long time, he had thought that it had been a matter of circumstances. When Ace was around, things sometimes happened in a very strange way. Perhaps it was their captain's radiant energy that had brought her to their side.

Arlys remained pensive for a short while, allowing herself a moment of reflection as she put her sketch back with the others, flat on her lap.

- "I'm an orphan, but I grew up with several other children back at Sabaody. Most of them were younger than me.”

Sensing that she was about to tell him something she had never told anyone before, Deuce listened attentively, interested and moved by her willingness to confide in him a little.

- “I'd like to help them out of their misery one day, and show them the world.” She said, thoughtfully. “When I saw you and Ace that day, I knew I wanted to set sail. And I think that's when I decided to seize the opportunity to pursue my dream.”

She clutched her pouch full of sketches and paintings between her fingers.

- “When I'll return to see them, I want to offer them a glimpse of what's beyond the sea. And tell them about the wonderful people I've met on my travels.”

She paused, and added;

- “You gave me the courage to start.”

This was the first time Arlys had told him about her life in Sabaody. And it was also the first time he had seen her shine so brightly, a gentle smile on her lips and eyes gleaming. He was so surprised by this side of her that he said nothing more until the attraction came to a halt, signalling the end of their ride.

When they emerged from the Ferris Wheel, both of them felt like they understood each other a little better than they did before.

──•••──

Night would soon fall, and as they walked in soothing silence through the festival's market aisles, lit by numerous lanterns, Arlys turned her gaze towards him.

- “Say, Deuce. Could I take a look at your diary one of these days?”

Deuce winced. After hearing the taunts of his comrades when they had secretly read his notes, Deuce wasn't really comfortable with the idea of letting anyone read his writings.

But he couldn't resist Arlys' gaze, shining with genuine curiosity.

- “Only if you show me your sketches.”

She grimaced, now as uncomfortable as he was. But her curiosity was stronger than her embarrassment, and she ended up smiling shyly at him.

- “All right, we have a deal.”

──•••──

When Deuce returned to his cabin that night, he wrote in his notebook about Arlys.

“I asked Arlys about her dreams today. Perhaps I should have asked her sooner, but then, her answer might have been different.

She said I gave her the courage to start, but I think that she would have left Sabaody earlier or later. She would have left to immortalise, with her pencils and paint brushes, landscapes and faces from all over the world. Meeting Ace and me only gave her an opportunity to start, but she already had the courage she needed, she always had. Because she is doing this for them, her siblings, waiting for her to return and to tell them all about her adventures. Ace was only the one that showed her the way, without even realizing it, just like he did for me.

Now I understand why she shines in her art, it's her dream that she traces, piece by piece, every day.

Arlys, too, has the soul of a true adventurer, a very kind one.”

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While Deuce was horrified when his comrades dared to read his notes over his shoulder, especially after their recent mockery, Arlys, for her part, was quick to get flustered and hide her sketches if one of her companions happened to glance indiscreetly at her drawings. Especially when she was working on a portrait. Suffice to say that the members of the Spade's took malicious delight in tormenting the two artists.

This time, however, it was Mihal who startled the young woman, as she felt a presence attentively observing the portrait of Deuce she was working on. It was the one she had started on the Ferris wheel, and was now busy perfecting it.

- “Mihal?!” She yelped, covering it immediately with her hands.

- “From what I've had time to see, it's very pretty.”

Mihal was very much a homebody, and often guarded the boat with her, but he was not insensitive to art. It may have been due to his profession as a teacher. Regardless, he was always curious and appreciative of the young woman's creations.

Arlys wasn't sure what to say at first, but finally thanked him, adopting a slightly more relaxed posture as she loosened her grip on the edges of her sketchbook.

Mihal wasn't the most talkative person on the ship, so Arlys naively assumed that he wouldn't point out what he had just seen. However, she was soon disillusioned when she saw the former teacher sit down opposite her, looking up to the person about to sneak up behind her.

- “Deuce, hm?”

Skull had just peered over the woman's shoulder, giving the portrait and then Arlys an inquisitive look.

His snide comment, full of insinuations, made her blush.

As a good informer, and often working in tandem with Arlys, Skull had more than once had the opportunity to rummage through the young woman's drawings. And although Arlys would be the first to deny it, Skull, and the other crew members who had secretly looked at her work, had noticed the higher number of portraits of Deuce in her sketchbook. Similarly, while she sometimes shared her other portraits without too much reluctance, she seemed to keep those of the young writer well hidden.

Of course, among the crew, no one had escaped Arlys' observant gaze, and everyone had had their portraits painted. Sometimes as individuals, sometimes as a group. Arlys had immortalised many moments of life on the Peace of Spadille. But the way she captured Deuce's gestures and expressions, his smiles, his gaze, the sparkle in his eyes… was very special.

She looked at him like a painter enamoured by his muse.

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Arlys appeared a lot in his notes, too much in fact.

Of course, her name had its place in his novel, Arlys was one of his comrades after all, and often stayed by his side. She was a pleasant, almost comforting presence, and he always enjoyed the discussions they had together. He had got into the habit of writing down some of his thoughts - which had no place in his adventure novel - in another notebook which he usually kept with him.

According to his deductions, it was life in the slums that had most influenced Arlys. Firstly in terms of her physical abilities: Arlys had built herself up on agility and speed, and was more suited to pickpocketing - although she seemed too honest to have given in to pilfering -. She had once told him that she used to spend a lot of time on rooftops. Firstly for her own safety, but also to keep an eye on the other street kids and to observe, out of sight, what was going on below. It was also where she drew.

While Arlys was not generally a very expressive person, Deuce had noticed that she was quite different when she was drawing portraits. She had a funny habit of unconsciously mimicking the expression she was trying to draw, thus reflecting the expression of the portrait itself. These scenes remained almost comical but also endearing in the eyes of the writer.

This thought prompted him to look around for the artist, and he found her sitting on a crate on the other side of the deck. Once again, she was drawing. Her expression was calm, almost pensive. Deuce wondered what she was sketching to look so peaceful.

He smiled, and began to scribble in his notebook the thoughts that were running through his mind.

When Deuce looked up from his notepad again, Arlys was now accompanied by Mihal, Skull and Banshee. The discussion seemed lively, and Arlys was visibly embarrassed. The scene was not very different from the usual moments of life on the Peace of Spadille. If Arlys had been out of the picture, she would surely have immortalised it with the tip of her pencil.

- “What are you admiring like that?”

Ace had just peeked his head over the shoulder of the writer, who gasped at the sudden appearance of his captain. The latter squinted his eyes to find what Deuce had been observing with a smile, until his gaze fell on the artist at the other end of the deck.

- “I see.” Ace's mischievous expression made Deuce freeze, as he tried desperately to maintain a detached attitude.

- “What?”

Ace raised an eyebrow. Deuce was trying to play it cool now? It wouldn't work on him.

He leaned against the rail of the upper deck, watching the lively conversation the four pirates below seemed to be having. He smiled at the sight.

Deuce was perplexed by his captain's change of attitude, but waited for his next comment.

- “She likes you too, you know.” He said, calmly.

Deuce turned his head towards him, speechless and visibly taken aback by his comment.

Ace considered his reaction out of the corner of his eye.

- “You didn't know that?”

Then he remembered that Deuce had never delved into Arlys' drawings like the rest of the crew had. And of course, he didn't realise the way she looked at him.

- “It's not-” Deuce tried, ready to deny what the young man was insinuating. His relationship with Arlys wasn't like that, was it?

Ace sighed.

- “Ahh, whatever, it's not my problem!” he said, placing his hands on his comrade's shoulder. “You'll find out eventually!” With that, Ace left, hands behind his head.

Deuce remained motionless for several long seconds, bewildered by this brief discussion. His gaze drifted back to Arlys, gently teased by Skull, under the amused gaze of Mihal and Banshee.

And for a brief moment, he met her gaze. She smiled shyly, before turning her head towards Banshee, who was addressing her.

The writer leaned against the railing, his eyes thoughtfully turned towards the sky as he remembered her words.

“You gave me the courage to start”...

Did she really view him differently?

───────•••───────

Arlys and Deuce met up on the upper deck in the late afternoon, as the sun was ending its journey across the sky, leaving in its wake only a warm, comforting, golden glow.

The artist had her sketchbook in her arms, and Deuce was holding his notebook in his hand.

Arlys had fallen back against the ship's rail, sitting on the deck. Deuce joined her without further thought. Sitting side by side, the atmosphere was peaceful, with only the sound of the waves and the distant conversations of their comrades filling the air.

Both of their minds were busy. Deuce was thinking about Ace's words, while in Arlys' mind, it was the conversation she had had earlier with her friends that was tormenting her.

Chasing away all distracting thoughts, Arlys chose to enjoy the present moment. After giving Deuce a sidelong glance, she handed him her sketchbook, which he took gently. And he in turn gave her his notebook.

Deuce took a moment to contemplate the sketchbook in his hands. In a way, Arlys' sketches were precious. Not only because they immortalised so many moments in their lives, but also because she had enough trust in him to show him the very crystallisation of her dream. The thought warmed his heart.

Arlys, for her part, had a similar moment of reflection. She too was touched by Deuce's faith in her. But curiosity soon got the better of her, and she began to read his work.

From the very first lines, Arlys smiled fondly; Deuce's writing was like him; simple yet imbued with his personality. She loved the way he thought and handled words, and was quickly absorbed in her reading, happy to catch a glimpse of Deuce's inner world, and discover another side of him.

Deuce couldn't help but study the young woman's reaction out of the corner of his eye. Seeing her smile so sincerely and kindly, Deuce could only blush with surprise. There didn't seem to be any mockery in her gaze. She really seemed to enjoy every word.

Embarrassed, Deuce returned his attention to the sketchbook on his lap, and finally decided to open it.

The first sketches he looked at were representations of Sabaody's landscapes; the merchant streets, the docks, the pirate ships moored around the island, the tall trees surrounded by the many characteristic bubbles... These illustrations reminded him of their last visit to Sabaody, and his first meeting with Arlys.

This was followed by numerous sketches and paintings of classic scenes of life aboard the Peace of Spadille; meals shared in the refectory, Ace’s antics, and even battles and training carried out aboard the ship. Arlys had sketched the expressions of each crew member with remarkable accuracy, immortalising their laughter, their facial expressions and their smiles. At this sight, Deuce could only give a gentle smile of his own, an expression that mirrored the one Arlys gave when she drew these scenes; a peaceful, tender expression. They both shared a mutual affection for their comrades, their true family.

The next paintings depicted various landscapes; Deuce recognised them as the islands they had visited during their travels, and portraits of the inhabitants were attached to the paintings. Once again, Arlys had succeeded in capturing insignificant moments and making them special. These people and landscapes, eternalized between the pages of this sketchbook, would never be forgotten.

He remembered what she had said to him one day, when she was painting a portrait of Ace and Kotatsu, both asleep on the deck. He couldn't remember the question he'd asked her, but remembered her answer clearly.

“One day, my hands will be so bruised that I won't be able to paint like I used to. When that day comes, I want to be able to open that sketchbook again, and relive every moment of this journey. I'll rediscover the faces of the companions who have changed my life and accompanied me for all these years.

Whatever awaits us in the future, I want to be able to remember each and every second.”

That was what she was planning to do once her dream would be fulfilled.

Arlys paused her reading to glance back at Deuce, who was pensively admiring her sketches. He seemed genuinely nostalgic.

When he turned another page and suddenly froze, Arlys couldn't help but look at him expectantly. She had hesitated to put those sketches and paintings at the end of her sketchbook. But she bravely left them there, encouraged by Skull and Banshee.

Portraits of him.

For a long time, Deuce stood speechless before his own portrait, sketched during their ride on the Ferris Wheel. His figure was bathed in the warm lights of the festival, cascading through the windows of the cabin, illuminating his peaceful face with bright red glows. The precision and colours of the painting were striking. Deuce had never seen another portrait as detailed as this one in Arlys' sketches. He felt like he was looking through a mirror, when in reality, he was looking through Arlys’ lenses.

- “I really like this one.”

He flinched at her comment. Turning his head towards her, he could see that she had been observing his reaction for a while, hiding her embarrassed face behind the pages of his notebook.

The ambiguity of her remark caught him off guard.

- “I... it's really well done.” He managed to stammer, moved by what was in front of him.

His expression of wonder, although slightly troubled, was sincere. When he met her shy, sparkling gaze, he couldn't help but ask her the question related to Ace's words, which he was beginning to understand.

- “Is that really how you see me?”

- “To me, this is simply who you are.”

Deuce's heart missed a beat.

Arlys returned her attention to the diary in her hands, which she closed gently, before holding it out to him, ready to give it back, a smile on her face.

- “I felt it when I read your work too, you're a talented writer and an admirable adventurer, Deuce.”

And for the first time, Deuce could see in her eyes the whole depth of her affection and admiration. The emotions that danced in her eyes when she saw him, her tenderness... all reflected in the way she smiled and portrayed him.

Without taking his eyes off her, he picked up the sketchbook and handed it back to her, brushing her fingers with his own.

- “You're wonderful too, Arlys!” he exclaimed ardently, a little louder than he would have liked, face flushed.

A laugh escaped the young painter. It was rare to see Deuce lose his composure, but she found herself wanting to immortalise this side of him too. Dropping her sketchbook onto her lap, Arlys placed her hands on either side of his face, and rested her forehead against his.

- “Let's promise to make our dreams come true together.”

Deuce admired her face, so close to his, lit by the last rays of the sun, about to fade over the horizon. The determination in her eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

He nodded, leaning his forehead against hers, eyes closed, to whisper his oath.

- “I promise.”

Her warm hands, which until then had framed his face, slid up his back, drawing him into a warm embrace. Arlys buried her face in the hollow of his neck.

- “Thank you, Deuce.”

He simply hugged her back, letting her snuggle up against him.

This time, they were sure, after tonight, that they understood each other far more. And undoubtedly realised the tender affection they shared for each other.

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- “Why are you drawing us so much?”

The sudden presence of Ace, leaning over her shoulder, startled her.

The page she was drawing on was filled with portraits of the crew members, Ace, Deuce, Kotatsu, Banshee, Mihal, Skull, Wallace, Kukai, Cornelia... No one had been left out.

- “So as not to forget you.”

Ace raised his eyebrow.

- “Are you planning to leave us?”

- “No, no! I just want to be able to remember your faces, if our paths ever part.”

- “We're not going anywhere, you know?”

Ace flashed her a big smile, which warmed the artist's heart. She now understood more and more why Deuce compared Ace to the sun. His presence was warm and reassuring.

She could only smile warmly back at him.

- “I know, thank you Captain.”

──•••──

Arlys stood perfectly still in front of the large tombstone. The long cloak of one of the four Emperors fluttered in the wind beneath his flag, but she could not look away from the hat placed on their captain's grave.

Next to her, Deuce was as silent as she was.

Arlys took a few steps forward and placed one of her carefully framed paintings among the swords and flowers, at the foot of the grave. Swallowing back her tears, she bowed and whispered her thanks to the two men who were resting here, for all they had done for them.

- “We won't forget you, Ace.”

Arlys gently took Deuce's hand in hers, communicating her support with the little warmth she offered.

In this frame, among blossoms and steel, a painting similar to a photograph; the crew of the Spade reunited, celebrating the arrival of their new recruit. At its centre, a captain and his first mate, locked arm in arm, mugs raised to the sky.

And if you looked long enough, you could almost hear the cheerful laughter and radiant chatter again.

The end of their adventure had been marked by the disappearance of a man akin to the sun, at the centre of everything and everyone.

───────•••───────

A year after the events at Marineford and the disbanding of Whitebeard's crew, Masked Deuce became a journalist for Big News Morgans newspaper.

Arlys followed and worked alongside him as an illustrator and photographer.

They both specialised in articles about the crew of the Straw Hat and the Revolutionary Army.

Despite Morgans' protests, Deuce refused to publish his writings on Ace. Arlys, for her part, kept her portraits from that period to herself. Sharing them only with Deuce, the crew members with whom she was still in contact, and the children who had grown up with her on Sabaody.

Time had passed, yet they still dreamt.

───────•••───────

Deuce Nation, how are we feeling?

On a serious note, I wrote this a while ago (in french) and recently decided to translate it, as I know there isn't much Masked Deuce content out there, especially one-shots. I'm not particularly proud of this one, but I enjoyed writing it. The romance is corny and maybe a bit awkward, but I hope it wasn't too bad overall and that Deuce didn't feel too OOC. Kinda tragic towards the end, as I often do.

I really love Masked Deuce as a character, and I'm happy to write about him. I hope you liked Arlys too.

I won't post for a while after that, since exams are gonna kick my ass, but I'll be back when I can indulge in my hobbies again.

Thank you for reading, hope you liked it!

#masked deuce #masked deuce x oc #masked deuce one shots #one piece oneshots #heliantart #one piece masked deuce #masked deuce one piece #cross posted on ao3

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stormyweaver · 10 months ago

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I’m not familiar with it, but can you tell me more? You seem really passionate about it, so it must be good!

OMG SO I literally had this ask in my inbox for AGES (realistically a month maybe?) 'cause it made me feel all warm and fuzzy for someone to take an interest in something I'm obviously passionate about ;-;

HOWEVER this feels like the perfect time to introduce just what exactly Haz/bin Ho/tel is if you're unfamiliar with it! (And have been subjected to my many posts about someone named Vo/x like who names their kid that amiright--) SO ESSENTIALLY it's an adult cartoon/musical centered around the beings of Hell, and the Princess of Hell's mission to help them find redemption! It's got an absolutely stellar cast of not only voice actors but characters as well! Technically the pilot came out for it about four years ago? But season 1 officially dropped in January, so that's why there's been such an influx of people hopping on board the train.

As for me and why I enjoy it and making content of it's characters? Well, it's honestly kind of a loaded thing because I love watching animated shorts on YouTube. But when the pilot came out it just struck some chord in me because of the premise. There's actually a line in the Pilot from Ch/arlie, the main character, which sums up just what I really enjoy about it:

"I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better,"

It kinda solidified that this was definitely a series worth watching for me. Among various other, not so wholesome reasons but! That's entertainment for ya'.

Anyway, I'm more than happy to go into more detail but for now, this is kind of a thanks to not only you for reaching out, but to the lovely people not just on snzblr that I've met via watching this series grow and flourish. It's been one Helluva time-- *gets brick'd*

#greyrambles;#not snz #but also it's like snz adjacent sooo #eh idk it's my blog I'll talk about what I want LMAO #anyway thanks for the ask lovely!!

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beregosts · 1 year ago

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neck kisses that turn into love bites.

she does see the irony in it, that the very heart whose existence she'd once doubted should now tempt her to sleep with its steady rhythm beneath her cheek. it isn't an option, however, regardless of how content she feels. sleep would require time they don't have, prove dangerous if it stretches too long or too comfortably. instead, arlis embraces the easy silence that has settled between and allows her fingers to trace over each rib and across the litany of scars dotting his torso. their placement is known to her now, as is most of their stories.

the chill in the room has her curl closer, grateful for the warmth his form exudes. (the would-be tyrant cannot be in too comfortable a space, after all. the dreadmaster should not rest well.) still, arlis thinks, better here than the house prior, that place that could not be called a home that finally revealed the fractures in him.

despite somber thoughts, sleep calls to her after a long day of composing herself of the city's expectations. that is what she is now, after all, more virtue than living thing, some vaulted name rather than beating heart and flowing blood. her eyelids grow heavier and she blinks forcefully enough to flinch in order to stave off the desire to close them.

"what is it?"

"i wish-," a sighs falls from her lips as her gaze moves to her dress, carefully laid out across the room. there is a routine that they both adhere to now. there must not be any wrinkles set within her clothes when she leaves. any messied braids will be carefully redone. there cannot be any trace of the way they have sat together as more than hero and villain, no hint of the nights where his mouth has mapped her scars and her fingers have clutched at the planes of muscle lining his back. no one can know, no one can even be allowed to guess, that his name is gilded with adoration when it is gasped from her lips rather than stained with loathing, "i wish we had more time. i wish i didn't have to scurry off into the night, that i could just... stay here, properly, until the morning."

enver's hand reaches for her own, his fingers coming to rest along her wrist. it does not go unnoticed by her that he is the one to initiate this contact. he huffs quietly. "are you implying you'll miss me after you leave?"

her initial instinct is a retort, to give something back with just enough bite to offer him the chance to spar, if he wishes. however, arlis sits with the question, realizes that there is something real to it. he has offered her the chance to brush this all aside, mock it even, but, despite his best efforts, that faint sheen of authenticity remains. she decides to respond with something real in turn.

"of course i will." she shifts so their eyes meet. his dark gaze catches the candlelight and she tucks a loose lock of ebony hair behind his ear. "i'm hardly going to advocate for your early release, but i'd much rather go to sleep and wake up beside you than wonder when next i'll see you and how long we'll have. i wish you were by my side, rather than locked away, though i know you deserve it. does that surprise you? i miss you when we're apart and i know exactly how many days it is you've left to serve."

a finger moves to trace over his jaw, trailing south to the scar etched into his neck. her next words are gentle but certain. "i want you in the daylight, enver, free and beneath the sun."

he looks at her and, for once, that clever tongue is stilled in silence. he finally briefly opens his mouth to speak, only for it to close half second later, and then he is kissing her fiercely, urgently. her fingers weave into his hair when his lips move to her neck, the stubble of his jaw scratching against tender skin. arlis sighs, tilting her head to allow him more space, and his name is crafted tenderly on the tip of her tongue.

it earns her a teasing bite just below her pulse and her eyes flutter shut, fingers tugging at his hair in response. another hint of a bite, like for like, and the quiet groan that rumbles in his chest all but leaves her dizzy. "enver-," a sharp inhale when his teeth scrape against her collarbone, "leave a mark."

he pauses and she feels his breath against her.

"something from you to take with me, after i leave," arlis murmurs unwaveringly, "something just for us." she cannot carry any favor of his, but this, she thinks, will suffice.

his lips chart their course to where her shoulder meets her neck, resting in that slender arch. "you'll need to find something with a higher collar, arlis."

she hums in amusement, nuzzling a kiss into his hair. "it'll be too dark for anyone to notice when i leave and, besides, i've quite the wardrobe now. i'll manage, but your consideration is both noted and appreciated."

she's certain she can feel his smile pressed into her skin.

#*v : act iv (brightest daughter of the city).#* banedictus : but i go with you; as long as there is one of us there is both of us.#cw : suggestive #they make me feral

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darkgifted · 1 year ago

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hey. [ hold ]

[ hold ] – for the sender’s muse to hold the receiver’s muse by the face / neck gently and brush their thumbs along their cheeks to get them to focus on them.

she falls to her knees in exhaustion, every muscle in her body spent and aching. the wave of relief that crashes over her is strong enough to keep the horror at bay as she stares at the unmoving form of ketheric thorm, all but a broken shell now. (so much for ketheric the deathless, ketheric the chosen. so much for the lord of bones, the shadow that's haunted her steps for as long as she can remember.)

arlis moves slowly to stand, teeth gritting with the effort, but then thorm's hand twitches at her feet. her blood runs cold with horror, because no-, no, not again, and then thorm is rising with the jerking machinations of a puppet on a string. the puppeteer's voice is suddenly in her mind, dry as dust and dark as night, and it speaks her name with an intimacy that rips the breath from her lungs.

that gravelight has returned to thorm's eyes now, pale and churning, but it's pouring from him now, leaking and spreading, and she doesn't have to see to know that it's drowning the others. lae'zel, vann, gale-; she can taste the graverot thick on her tongue but it's sweet, it was always meant to taste sweet for her, and-

arlis throws off the nightmare with a ragged gasp that cleaves through her throat as she sits up, eyes wide with panic. her gaze darts around in confusion, searching for explanation in the darkened confines of their tent, and her fingernails have dug so fiercely into the tender palm of her hand as to leave bruises.

"arlis-," she flinches harshly at sudden touch and familiar voice, a desperate little sob falling from her lips as gale's words cut through the terror. "arlis, it was a nightmare. listen, it was a nightmare."

gale's hands lift to rest gently against her jaw, turning her gaze to his as his thumbs stroke along the slight curve of her cheeks. "it's alright, i promise. just a nightmare, that's all." his touch is tender but firm, an anchor, and she draws in a sharp breath to try & steady the furious beating of her heart. "that's right, just look at me-" gale intones firmly, "one breath after another, there we are."

slowly but surely, the terror begins to fade and she leans forward to press her sweat-soaked brow to his, yearning for the balm of his nearness. his thumbs trace along her cheekbones as they sit in silence until her breath has evened and furious pulse has steadied.

"do you want to talk about it?" gale finally asks quietly.

"no-," arlis murmurs after a long moment, "i just-, i want it all out of my head, i think."

gale nods and it's only then she takes note of his sleep tousled hair, locks messied and unkempt. it coaxes a surge of gentle affection through her and she lifts a hand in a lazy attempt to tidy it. however, his fingers gently snare her wrist and lower her hand to his lips. "tell me," a featherlight kiss is pressed to her knuckles, "what you'd like to fill your mind instead? name it and it will be done."

gale's eyes are bright now rather than darkened with concern, a smile teasing at both sincerity and eagerness appearing. "starlit skies, imposing vistas, the first hints of a sunrise; name it and you'll have it." his clever fingers twist and the gleam of the weave ebbs softly around his hand. "i can't promise it'll be perfect, even i normally need a bit of time to prepare these sorts of things, but-,"

"perfect?" arlis laughs softly and reaches for his right hand, energy humming against her lips as she kisses each fingertip. gods, but she loves him so dearly it aches. "you would give me the stars, my love, and fear i'd count their imperfections?"

"oh, but i can give you more than the stars," gale grins and wraps an arm carefully around her waist to tug her closer, "i'd craft an entire world for you if i could, a world just for us." there is something akin to reverence in his voice now, a hint of yearning. "imagine it, arlis. every detail purposeful, familiar but also better. something perfect."

"and what if i just want your tower, hm? would you be disappointed if i wished for nothing more than sunsets on your balcony and you beside me?"

he blinks after a pause. "no, not in the slightest."

"then fill my mind with waterdeep tonight," arlis straightens the blankets over them once more, "i know you could have me see it, but i like when you talk about it. you're very good at that, you know, talking." she settles back against the familiar contours of his form, head nestled against his shoulder.

"when you speak of waterdeep," she murmurs around a yawn, fingers reaching to entwine with his own as his chest rises and falls steadily beneath their hands, "i get to see it as you see it. every brick, every book, it's all what you remember, what you find important. that's more than enough, my love."

gale is so very quiet and still that she thinks he's already drifted off, but he finally speaks and when he does, he tells her of the way the moonlight dances on the harbor water and the scent of spices in the markets, the birdsong in the spring and the warmth of the summer sun.

she dreams again, but this time her dreams are full of life.

#v* : act iii.#kresdoia #im fine this is FINE #tfw your boyfriends starting to consider godhood

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blnk338 · 2 years ago

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hello blnk my beloved! absolutely love rwys, definitely my number one 141 fic, you’re storytelling is just TOP TIER!!

anywhoooo i just wanted to show you a stray that’s been appearing outside my house for the past couple of nights that reminded me SOO much of PB from rwys that i just had to show you :3

i’ve been feeding him whenever i see him and am currently in the process of trying to get him neutered and vaccinated in hopes of adopting him! i already own two cats so the process is a bit more difficult but i have high hopes for this sweet boy. i’ll give you updates and let you know how things go :D

fun fact: this man is missing more than half his tail (where did it go?!) and missing two toes on his back right leg (who took his toes?!?!)

thank you for all that you do for us readers, i appreciate you and you work dearly and am looking forward to see where rwys goes! <3

oh my GODD!!!! first thank you youre so cool <333

and HOLY COW!!!! PLEASE GIVE US UPDATES PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!!!!!!! <3333333333333333333333333333333

he's so cute and he looks quite silly

i hope his little feetsies are okay and he's got a cute little bobtaiol :)))

AND YOURE SO COOL!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <33333333333333333333333333333

#asks #rwys asks

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gay-little-treat-wizard · 2 years ago

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Elrya: The New World By T. A. Onkọwe (Me)

13 – Kaeden

Kaeden was oddly glad for the bird attack, if only to avoid the dark-haired temple servant very obviously flirting with him as she wasn’t warded off by his engagement armband. She’s pretty enough, sure, but she was probably more his fiancé’s type. He’s current type was apparently blondes, judging by how much of the event he spent sneaking glances as Flynn.

Kaeden left the hall as soon as humanly possible, not wanting to celebrate his newest fight with yet another round of drinking. However, he didn’t head of to his room, knowing his crew could easily find him there. Instead, he escaped to one of the temple’s many balconies, nursing a cup of wonderfully non-alcoholic granatus as he stares into the night. The view from here is beautiful but alien: odd new constellations dotted the sky, the sea was a lovely cerulean and not the deep indigo of the Lormir bay he was used to, the island was far, far away from Cerisi.

And yet, he still felt trapped.

He wandered how Arli must feel, stuck in Lormir, touring to keep up appearances in dresses she hates, fulfilling the duties of a soon-to-be Queen. Would she want to be here, far away from all that, or would she dread being near him in public, having to pretend they were in love?

Arli downed a glass of warm mulled wine as she scowled out into the bay, she’d been drinking more ever since the engagement. Currently, she was bundled up in multiple layers of wools and silks from her neck to her feet, only exposing her sun-kissed face and the very top of her golden-brown waves.

“I don’t know how you handle the cold.” She grumbled as a servant swooped in and replaced her empty glass with a new cup. She stared at the cup with an even deeper frown. “Even the wine here is bad.”

Arli was a noble from, Petirocàvin[1], a little Island closer to mainland Elva than Cerisi, more Fêrain[2] than Cerisian, but still under the crowns control. “We can’t all be from sunny Roca.”

“Of course not, if only everyone could be so lucky.” She muttered a few Fêrainian words under her breath. “I won’t even be Rocàvin soon.”

“You don’t have to be stuck here.” He offered. “You could keep your estate in Vini[3].”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, because that won’t cause a scandalous whisper storm of forke[4].” Her muttered Fêrainian grew harsher; Kaeden could recognize quite a few curses. “Can you image how they’ll react when we’re heirless for a while?”

The thought of heirs sent a shiver of discomfort crawling down his spine.

“I’m not to enthused either.” She deadpanned. “At least I’ll have more time back home while you’re away, after I finish pretending to tolerate it here.”

“Are you looking forward to it?” She asked, turning from the bay to stare at him with cerulean blue eyes. “The freedom of being far away from here I mean.”

“I- “

His quiet contemplation was interrupted by Flynn drunkenly stumbling out onto the balcony. His golden locks were a complete mess, and his shirt collar was open, exposing a neck and upper chest full of blooming bruises. He doesn’t notice Kaeden as he slumps against the railing, peering out into the bay. After a few minutes of going unnoticed, Kaeden cleared his throat.

Flynn bolted upright and frantically looked around before finally noticing Kaeden. He relaxed, shoulders dropping, and gave Kaeden a tired little wave. “Hello again.”

“Uh… Hi.”

A few more minutes of silence passed as Flynn stared at him, seemingly not noticing his awkward shuffling.

“Your arm.” Flynn stated more that asked.

Kaeden sighed, preparing to recount the story of his lost hand to yet another person when Flynn continued. “You’re engaged?”

“Oh, that… I thought- never mind. Yes, I guess I’m that, engaged I mean.”

“You don’t sound very happy about that.”

“Well, I… It’s that obvious?”

“It’s literally my jurisdiction.” He drunkenly stretched his arms out wide and did a little spin. “Demigod of love here.” As he came to a halt, he tripped over a loose tile and fell sideways. Instinctively, Kaeden reached out and caught him.

He’s tiny in Kaeden’s arms, practically weightless and close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath and his rose perfume. Close enough to see his rosy cheeks and constellation of freckles. Close enough for his eyes to drift to his peach pink lips and see himself reflected in his wide forest green eyes. Close enough to wonder, if only for a second, what would happen if he leaned down and…

Dangerously close.

As suddenly as he fell into his arms, Kaeden dropped him onto his two feet and stepped back.

“Sorry,” he said, not even sure what he was apologising for. “Are you alright?”

“I’m- it’s fine.” Flynn shook his head as if he was trying to shake the drunkenness out. “What is she like? You’re unwanted fiancé.”

"We're close I guess, just you know, more like family than…” He paused, having to choke the last word out. "Lovers."

Flynn leaned back against the wall opposite him, tilting his head up to peer at him. “Does she know that you don’t love her?”

“Yes, she’s… not exactly enthused either.” Kaeden laughed at their inside joke despite himself, ignoring the confused look Flynn gave him. "We both agree the whole union's a sham; A matter of convenience."

“At least you’re on the same page.” He mused; nose crinkled up adorably. “Don’t nobles in unhappy marriages usually have mistresses? Do you have something on the side waiting for you back home?”

The mere thought nearly sent Kaeden into a fit of laughter. “Definitely not.”

The grin Flynn gave him was more predatory than happy, almost malicious. He stalked forward, until he was just a few inches away, dangerously close again and boxing him in against the railing despite his small stature. “So, you’re not interested in your fiancé, or a mistress?” The blonde’s gaze racked across him, settling on his lips. “What are you interested in then… your highness?” His voice was low, and husky and he drew out the last two words torturously slowly, tip of his tongue swiping over his plump lower lip.

Of all the monsters he’d faced and all battles he’s fought, Flynn in all his golden haired, green-eyed, flushed glory was possibly the most dangerous thing he’d ever encountered.

"I’m not quite sure what you mean.” Kaeden swallowed. He wasn’t sure where to look, where he was allowed to look. His slender neck, his delicate bare shoulder, his half-lidded eyes? Nowhere felt safe to gaze.

So, so close.

“Oh, I think you do.” Flynn smirked. “I’m sure you've been wanting some kind of… release.”

Before Kaeden could give much in response, the door to the balcony swung open and they both froze. Fear of being caught cleaved clean through the haze of lust Kaeden was tangled in.

Kaeden expected a servant or foreign dignitary, someone bound to spread this gossip through the temple complex by sunrise, or worse one of his crewmates, guaranteed to make a scene.

Instead, much to his relief, the unexpected newcomer was Flynn’s redheaded sister. Fianna, his mind offered. He can hardly think now.

“Flynn! There you are, I-” She paused, taking in the pair, then rolled her eyes. “Seriously? What did we talk about?”

Fianna stomped forward, grabbed the back of Flynn’s collar, and dragged him back into the temple, leaving Kaeden braced against the railing, breathing ragged and unbearably hard.

So, fucking close.

[1] Little Wine Rock, pronounced similar to French with the last n silent

[2] Region in Elva, pronounced fɛʁɛ̃

[3] Capitol of Petirocàvin, pronounced

[4] A Fêrainian curse meaning shit.

A.N- @sewi-li-suwi, @sinharder, @reiki-tsubetai@concoctionboy and @hummbirb if you're interested. Let me know if you don't want to be @'ed.

#writers #write #writingfemale #writerslgbt #fiction #Elrya #By T. A. Onkọwe #fantsay #lgbt fiction #gay pinning #closeted character #writblr

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ronaldanthony4 · 1 month ago

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I’ve created another digital artwork once again, and this time, I chose to feature my original character, Liliana Oleander. She’s a character who’s very dear to me, not just because she’s half of my inseparable duo with Arlon Florian, but because of her bright and endearing personality that makes her leap off the canvas every time I draw her. This piece is special for many reasons, but mostly because it lets me revisit Liliana’s childhood—those precious years when her innocence and charm were at their peak.

Since this Wednesday marks World Children’s Day, I thought it would be fitting to dedicate this week to creating artworks that celebrate the joy and purity of childhood. It’s a theme that resonates deeply with me, as it reminds me of the carefree and imaginative moments that define those early years. For this particular piece, I drew Liliana as a child again—perhaps around her seventh year. This age feels perfect for her character because it captures that wonderful in-between stage where a child is old enough to express themselves but still young enough to see the world with wide-eyed wonder.

In this artwork, Liliana is a ballerina. Not just any ballerina, but one who seems to have stepped out of a dreamy fairytale. Her petite figure is adorned with a delicate white tutu that flares out like a soft, ruffled cloud. The bodice of her outfit hugs her gently, its subtle texture adding an elegant touch to the simplicity of the design. Her ballet slippers, tied with neat little ribbons around her ankles, are as pristine as freshly fallen snow. To complete her look, a tiny daisy is tucked into her tied up, wavy brown hair—a small but meaningful detail that echoes her love for nature.

The pose I’ve given her is graceful, as though she’s caught mid-performance. Her arms are extended delicately, one hand raised as if offering a playful kiss to the air. Her eyes are closed, and her lips are pursed in a way that’s both endearing and whimsical. There’s a playful innocence in her expression, as though she’s enjoying the moment not just for herself but for someone special. Her stance radiates the kind of carefree confidence that only a child can possess—a blend of artistry and joy that’s impossible to replicate.

The setting I’ve chosen for this artwork is a vibrant garden bathed in sunlight. The background is a kaleidoscope of colours, with lush green grass beneath her feet and bursts of flowers in every imaginable hue stretching out behind her. The sky above is a bright, cloudless blue, creating a sense of endless possibility. It’s the kind of place where a child-like Liliana would feel perfectly at home, twirling and leaping to her heart’s content. The sunlight filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on her face as she moves with effortless grace. Liliana's laughter fills the air, a melody that seems to dance along with her every step.

What makes this artwork even more special to me is the story it tells about Liliana and Arlon. You see, Liliana isn’t just dancing for the sake of it—she’s trying to catch the attention of her best friend, Arlon Florian. Arlon is a year younger than her, and their relationship is one of the purest forms of friendship I could imagine. They’ve been inseparable since they were very young, their bond built on a foundation of trust, understanding, and a deep affection that words can’t quite capture. In many ways, Liliana sees herself as Arlon’s protector and confidante, always looking out for him and making sure he feels included and valued.

In this scene, it’s as if Liliana is saying, “Look at me, Arly! Aren’t I amazing?” Her playful performance is meant for him and him alone, a gesture of affection that she wouldn’t offer to anyone else. There’s something so heartwarming about the way she reserves her best efforts for Arlon, as though he’s the only audience that truly matters to her. This dynamic between them is one of the things I love most about their relationship—it’s filled with little moments like this, where their connection shines through in the smallest of gestures.

Drawing Liliana as a ballerina also gave me the chance to explore another side of her personality. While she’s usually portrayed as outgoing and full of energy, there’s a quiet grace to her in this piece that feels refreshing. She’s still the same spirited girl, but there’s a softness to her movements and expressions that hints at her growing maturity. It’s a reminder that even at a young age, children can possess a depth and complexity that’s often overlooked.

As I worked on this piece, I found myself reflecting on the inspiration behind it. World Children’s Day is more than just a date on the calendar—it’s a celebration of the wonder, creativity, and boundless potential of children. It’s a time to remember the importance of nurturing these qualities and creating a world where every child can thrive. In many ways, Liliana embodies these ideals. She’s a symbol of the innocence and joy that make childhood such a magical time, as well as the resilience and determination that children often show in the face of challenges.

The relationship between Liliana and Arlon is another aspect of this piece that feels particularly meaningful. Their friendship is a reminder of the importance of connection and understanding, especially during childhood. Arlon, with his quiet and introspective nature, often relies on Liliana to bring him out of his shell, while Liliana finds a sense of stability and comfort in Arlon’s steady presence. Together, they create a balance that allows both of them to grow and thrive.

I also can’t help but think about how this artwork reflects my own experiences and values. As someone who has always been drawn to themes of friendship, love, and self-expression, creating a piece like this feels deeply personal. It’s not just about capturing Liliana’s character or celebrating World Children’s Day—it’s about sharing a part of myself through my art. Every detail, from the daisy in Liliana’s hair to the way her tutu catches the light, is a reflection of my thoughts and emotions.

The process of creating this artwork was both challenging and rewarding. Capturing the delicate balance between childlike innocence and graceful elegance required a lot of attention to detail. I spent hours refining the folds of Liliana’s tutu, making sure it looked soft and natural, and adjusting the pose of her arms to convey the right mix of playfulness and poise. Even the background, with its vibrant colours and soft focus, was carefully designed to enhance the overall mood of the piece without overshadowing the subject.

As I added the finishing touches, I couldn’t help but smile at the final result. Liliana looked exactly as I’d imagined her—radiant, joyful, and full of life. The scene felt alive, as though you could almost hear the soft rustle of her tutu or the gentle hum of the garden around her. It was a moment frozen in time, a snapshot of childhood that felt both universal and deeply personal. The image captured the essence of innocence and wonder, evoking a sense of nostalgia and warmth. I knew that this portrait would be cherished for years to come, a true reflection of Liliana's spirit and charm.

Now that the artwork is complete, I can’t wait to share it with others. I hope that anyone who sees it will be reminded of the beauty and simplicity of childhood, and perhaps even reflect on their memories of that time. For me, this piece is more than just a celebration of Liliana or World Children’s Day—it’s a tribute to the qualities that make life meaningful: love, connection, and the courage to express oneself. It serves as a reminder of the innocence and joy that children bring into our lives, and I hope it brings a sense of happiness to all who view it. This portrait captures a moment in time that will never be forgotten, embodying the essence of childhood in its purest form.

Looking at the finished artwork, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Liliana’s performance, her playful attempt to gain Arlon’s attention, feels so genuine to her character. It’s a reminder of why I created her in the first place—to explore the themes of innocence, friendship, and the journey of growing up. This piece captures a fleeting moment in her life, one that’s filled with joy and possibility. And in doing so, it also captures a piece of my own heart, a reflection of the things I hold most dear.

As I prepare to move on to my next project, I’m grateful for the opportunity to bring Liliana and Arlon’s world to life once again. Their story continues to inspire me, reminding me of the beauty and complexity of human connections. And while this piece may be just one chapter in their journey, it’s a chapter that I’ll always treasure. I look forward to exploring new characters and narratives, but I will always hold a special place in my heart for Liliana and Arlon. Their story has touched me in ways I never expected, and I am grateful for the chance to share it with others.

In the end, this artwork is more than just a celebration of World Children’s Day or a showcase of my skills as an artist. It’s a testament to the power of imagination and the enduring magic of childhood. Through Liliana’s graceful dance and her unspoken bond with Arlon, I hope to convey a message that’s both simple and profound: that love, in all its forms, is the most beautiful thing we can share. And in a world that often feels chaotic and uncertain, it’s these moments of connection and joy that remind us of what truly matters.

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wmf · 8 months ago

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My mom showed me an invitation from an old friend to her daughter's graduation. Her daughter(S) and I met after our moms met in a workout class together. They brought up the idea of each other bringing us together and becoming friends, naturally, we ended up meeting and hitting it off. When S and I were friends I would go over to her house and we would share our interests and hobbies, so I understand her mom wanting to invite us since it's been 10 years since we met. I just can't wrap my head around the idea that S wouldn't tell her about the argument we had which ultimately ended our friendship. At the time, my best friend(E) brought up a painful memory and poked fun at it with her friends in front of me. E knew she messed up after I started to ignore her, her reaction to my ignoring was to cry in front of everyone. But I was blamed for making the "sweetest person" cry. S, after seeing E cry, came up to me and said I was a horrible friend and to call myself her best friend but making her cry so easily was messed up. I told her if I was such a bad friend, she should go and be her friend instead then maybe it wouldn't have happened in the first place. Looking back, I know I was just a kid and it was probably very immature to say, but I knew we needed space after what happened. But when S butted into the situation after seeing E cry rather than asking me what happened was uncalled for. Sounding as petty as it was, how come she never brought up our fallout to her mom? I know her mom LOVED to compare our accomplishments with one another, and S would always be "better" than me in all remarks. I thought S would bring up the argument or even the fallout we had and maybe wouldn't have even thought of inviting us. Instead, it's been 6 years, and it seems as though her mom is clueless about the fact that S and I have had no contact since the dispute. My mom and I have the conclusion that she just wants to show off that her daughter graduated college and wants to ask what I've been doing with my life while her daughter finished her degree to compare us at least one more time.

I found out a couple of days after our argument that you found out what E did to me and you felt too bad to come and say sorry. I guess staying silent was always your style of dealing when dealing with things that didn't go your way. It's okay S, I forgive you for blindly blaming me, but I'll never forget the way you screamed at me in the hallway while I was on the phone with my mom.

#Spotify

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icyfox17 · 1 year ago

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pseudo 90s bands that are actually 2020s is SO ACCURATE any faves?

oops i never replied to this

HELPPP u wanting to be on top is really making me dig into the archives /pos

so the thing about this one was like i realised that actually a lot of my 2020s bands are more 70s/80s vibes but ima just . spam all of them so they might not be very 90s feeling but they will be oldies feeling

dayglow (specifically "close to you")

boyscott (specifically "nova scotia 500")

breakup shoes i think has a bit of the same vibe as dayglow but idk if it's Old feeling per se ("rat race")

arlie ^same as above vibes ("big fat mouth")

cold war kids ("miracle mile"-->this song's very 80s vibes but the songs from 2013)

Skegss ("L.S.D")

Leon Bridges ("Coming Home" my personallll fav i love this song so much its so so lovely)

Lake Street Dive ("Better Than" sim vibes to coming home)

#foxieasks #beanz tag #i learnt that like the genre of boyscott and skegss is called surf rock and . yeah it tracks #ppl always complain that music isnt the same as it used to be and theyre Mostly right cause mainstream stuff isnt #but if you dig in deep you can def find similar vibes

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fatuismooches · 8 months ago

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Okay but… Learning that Arle’s curse regressed when she was with Clervie and wasn’t as bad just makes me wonder if that would happen with her s/o.

It’s not obvious at first, but the more time she spends with you, her curse lessens a bit in your presence. It might not completely regress, but maybe it becomes a lighter shade of grey, or maybe it recedes down her arms a bit. I just think it would be incredibly wholesome to be able to make her feel so calm and loved and happy again that her curse could improve in your company, if only even a little bit.

When she’s around the others nobody can tell, but when she comes home to you after a long day, wraps you up in her arms and lets out a sigh of release, her curse wanes as she becomes overwhelmed with peace.

AWW... so cute!! Arlecchino's curse had long covered far up her arm, a stark difference from when she was a child. She already accepted she wouldn't be able to see her lower arms and fingers return to their original color, but she had grown accustomed to it. Not to mention, you were never put off or scared by it, which was the most important part for her.

Arlecchino was a woman who always had her guard up, playing the role of a strict and unfeeling Father, carrying out her Harbinger duties, being the perfect diplomat. With her poised manner, it seemed like this was nothing to her. She even acted this way around you. But only you could see the very tiny holes in her act, when it was just the two of you. In the beginning, she wasn't very receptive to it, not because she was annoyed or anything, but because she simply never felt the things that you made her feel when you held her before. it was a foreign feeling. It was a feeling that was always said to be a hindrance. But when you kept putting your arms around her and nuzzling into her soft hair, she couldn't help but be swayed.

Obviously, she doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve, but, you can tell she appreciates your soothing company. You were probably cuddling with her one day when you noticed her arms seemed different, but you didn't comment on it because you just thought maybe it happens sometimes. But later on Arlie, ever the observant person, notices the ever so slightly receding of the curse. Naturally, she finds it odd, her curse hasn't regressed in so long, and she wants to find the cause. It doesn't take long for her to realize it fluctuates when she comes home to your arms after taking care of "business."

Of course, you feel very happy that you manage to have an effect on such a poker-faced woman. You have solid proof of how much she loves you! And it may not seem like much, but it's more than enough.

Another unrelated thought: When she says not to look into her eyes, because you may not like what you see. But reader isn't scared in the slightest and continues to stare right into them anyway. Arlecchino finds your boldness amusing but tells you not to be so reckless...

I think it's very cute, being able to be her solace after everything she's been through.

#smooches talks #arlecchino love notes <3 #i didnt know it regresses with clervie... i noticed it fluctuates though #for what reason im unsure bc ive seen ppl say many different things 🤔 (tramua emotions certain situations etc)#wow i hate not being able to use commas #well we will find out in the story quest!#i have HIGH expectations #butI LOVE THIS SM #ITS SO WHOLESOME #attacking u lovingly for this anon #its also funny how arlie is actually like... pretty young

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chrisevansonly · 2 years ago

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Helping Hand

Dad!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader

Summary: Chris really loves to workout in your home gym, especially since the pandemic and virus season, he loved the idea of having his own workout space all to himself. Funny enough when you can’t find your three year old daughter Arlie, check the gym, and you might find her attached to her dad’s hip

Warnings: non, straight pure fluffy dad Chris, sassy Arlie

A/N: Baby Arlie is back to making an appearance!! I adore this pairing so much it rots my teeth, I think I’m going to divide my masterlist and add a Dad!Chris/ Dad + Arlie Section, let me know what you think, this one may be a little shorter, hopefully not horrible lmao but happy reading!!

Word Count: 846

Little Arlie girl was the epitome of her father’s shadow, following him around whenever and wherever she could, especially now that she was walking more and handling stairs better. That wasn’t to say you and Chris didn’t still watch her like a hawk in case she needed a hand or fell, but she was getting more and more independent every day. It was often days like today when Chris was off in your home gym completing his daily workout, whether it was legs, chest or arms, Arlie always found a way to weasel her little self into the gym to be with her daddy. So when you called her name for snack time and didn’t get a response, you made your way into the den where you’d left her last only to find her colouring book open and water bottle where she left it on the coffee table.

“That little bug…”

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly knowing just how good of an escape artist she was, so you tidied her markers up and walked your way down the hall and to the steps leading into the basement. When you opened the door, you could hear her giggles and little squeals as she and Chris worked through their weight session together

“I stronger than you daddy!”

The sight at the bottom of the stairs bringing a smile to your face, she had her set of dumbbells, which weighed virtually nothing in her hands, while Chris was on his back, two green and yellow weights on his chest to keep him to the floor

“I think you certainly are dove, I think I need some help!”

Arlie put her weights down and placed her tiny hands on her hips in a superman like pose and sighed

“I help you on one ‘dition daddy.”

You laughed at her shortened version of the word condition, because it was just the cutest thing in the world listening to her learning and practicing new words. At the sound of your laugh Arlie looked to you and clapped

“Hi mommy!!”

Chris smiled too, practically identical to your little girl

“Yeah, hi mommy”

“Hi you two, what’s going on down here?”

Arlie cocked her hip to the side, the sass with her was off the charts, Chris never failing to let you know it comes from you

“I doing the lifties thing with daddy, an’ he not strong ‘nough to hold my colour sticks”

Colour sticks, what she called her dumbbells, despite you attempting to teach her the word, it would forever be known as colour sticks to you and your husband

“Oh, I see, so are you gonna help him bug?”

“Mhm, I got one ‘dition first mommy”

You chuckled sitting down with the two of them on the floor, watching her as she began waving her arms around

“What’s that baby?”

“Well, I wanna watch cartoon and have two cookies!”

Chris pretended to think about it for a few moments, closing his eyes before letting out a dramatic sigh and holding his hand out to Arlie

“Okay Arlie girl, you got yourself a deal.”

“Deal daddy!”

She wrapped her much smaller hands around his larger one and shook with all her toddler strength before grabbing the dumbbells off his chest. Chris immediately took her in his arms and sat up covering her face in kisses while the room filled with the sounds of her laughter and now yours mixed in together. Moments like these making you take a mental snapshot watching the two people you loved most experiencing life together

“Alright my little gym crazies, how about we go upstairs for some snacks?”

After a collective cheer of yesses, the three of you made your way upstairs where Arlie got comfy in her chair at the island, and you and Chris stood in front of her, smiles on both of your faces as she munched away on some apples and peanut butter, her current favourite obsession

“Hey daddy?”

Chris finished chewing one a slice of the apple you’d also given him before answering her

“Yeah baby?”

“Don’t ‘fink I forgot about our deal.”

Your hand quickly covered your mouth as you began laughing, Chris losing it beside you as well

“O-Okay dove I won’t...”

Chris could barely get that sentence out without laughing and the two of you managed to calm down after a couple minutes, Arlie looking between her mom and dad with a stone-faced expression, clearly not finding any of this funny

“Arlie baby you are going to be a force to be reckoned with when you get older”

“Just like you mommy!”

You laughed shaking your head at her before Chris chimed in beside you quickly to agree with his little girl

“Yep, just like mommy”

Chris leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek before wrapping an arm around you and bringing you to him. That moment in the kitchen becoming another mental snapshot you’d hope to keep with you forever, your sassy Arlie girl never failing to make each day as interesting as the last.

#chrisevans #chrisevansxreader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic #chris evans x fluff #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #dad! chris evans #chris evans x arlie mae #chris evans x reader #chris x reader #rueswrites

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mbti-enemies · 2 years ago

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You guys can draw? I'd love to see your version of the MBTIs, you know those arts people make of how they picture each MBTI? Can you do that? Or maybe a moodboard for ach one, that'd be nice

oh anon can't really draw unless its like. interiors of kitchens. anyways... this ask was kinda awesome though because yeah (infj here btw) i kinda love making moodboards. there's something about making moodboards that makes me feel like... i'm really myself. i don't know i just... almost never feel more myself than when i make these things. sorry got kinda deep there but anyways yes ty)) i think this'll be the start of a slow growing collection (wanna put good time into each; won't be as magical otherwise), but we'll start with an intj board shall we? i went a bit rougue acc idk why i didn't wanna do it in like. a square. but here we are

also btw; @infj-arli has lots of lovely typed moodboards and, @cognitivedoodles is actually a genius with their visualisations of the functions

#intj #moodboard #ask #@intj up for an eventual collection?#oohh yes im in

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kiefbowl · 4 years ago

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Do you have any book recommendations?

sure :)

House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende - a favorite of mine, I re-read probably once every 3 years since HS at this point. Isabel Allende is the niece of Salvador Allende, the democratically elected socialist leader of Chile that was removed from office by a US backed coup. A piece of Chilean/American history not oft taught to American students. Isabel wrote this novel about an aristocratic family leading up to the coup. It does detail sexual assault and rape, but the story is focused on multiple generations of women.

The Second Shift by Arlie Russell Hochschild - A book I had to read in college for a sociology class that was called "Psychology and Marriage" or something to that nature. That class and this book specifically were instrumental in leading me towards radical feminism (despite neither being about it). Sociology books on gender are a great way to put your feminist framework to work, and should not be overlooked as important texts to feminism. This book is an engaging read about the labor of housework, written in chapters detailing the lives of specific families.

Call the Midwife by Jennifer Worth - I just finished this so it's on my mind, very quick read and engaging read. The tv show is based on this memoir, and on her following two memoirs as well which I have yet to read. There is a spiritual/religious bent to it that might be off putting, and Jenny does write at times in some strikingly sexist and tone-deft language that is shocking to find considering the subject matter, but it's no more so than what you would find from an average woman I suppose. What's more important is that it's her account of her times as a midwife in Poplar in the 50s, aiding extremely poor women through their numerous pregnancies in her own words. Very eye opening to the reality of post-war poverty in the UK, as well as the reality of obstetrics pre so many of our now common modern-day medical advances.

Why does he do that? by Lundy Bancroft - Some books are worth the over-recommendation. This book has been instrumental for me in navigating my life with the relationships of men I have, not just purely sexual and romantic, but in friendship, work, and community. Recognizing patterns of male dominance and entitlement is an essential tool to survive. It also has helped me navigate my relationship with my mother, who can at times be selfish and manipulative. There are posts floating about detailing accusations made against Bancroft that I would not be able to find without some serious digging, but yes Bancroft is a man (some women don't know this). He has an extensive career working with abusive men and their victims, so he has incredible insight and yet also has been accused himself entitled to women. This has, in my opinion, brought a deeper understanding of his words in that he might think he is detailing the minds of the abusive man, I see him as detailing the minds of men who will abuse their power over women. In any case, I have recently been re-reading it at leisure.

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster - This book has been high in my mind the past few months as the author passed away in March. What a lovely children's book, delightful exploration of the English language in fun and magical ways. I had a teacher read this book out loud to us at the end of each day in either 2nd or 3rd grade and it's been a favorite ever since. It's a little long for a children's book, and the adventures are repetitive to some degree, so it might be hard for an adult to want to read through the whole thing as their go to book, but flipping through it now and again is delightful. If you have an 7-10 year old kid in your life, it's a fun thing to share with them.

Wise Child by Monica Furlong - Maybe there's something to analyze about me that I'm recommending two children's books...but I'll let that be my problem. I read this a few years ago as my train-commute book. For some reason, I've been thinking about it a lot lately and want to pick it up again. It's about a witch and her child apprentice in a Scottish village. That's it. But the imagery was very cool and I love magic and witches so it was my jam. I picked it up for free in a neighborhood "little free library" so maybe my heart just goes to it for being given away despite it being a cute book about a female relationship.

The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett - This book comes recommended to me by my boyfriend's mom, who I adore and who is an amazing, hilarious, thoughtful woman, and is the book I'm about to start since I literally just finished reading Call the Midwife last night. It's a long, meaty historical novel about building a cathedral. So if you're interested in reading a book along with me in spirit, especially ones recommended by an amazing older woman, especially if you like giant novels that are hard to carry around dense with details about architecture and the lives of peasant and noble people living in Kingsbridge England in 1123-1174, then girlfriend hop on with me and let's make this monumental smash hit suddenly start trending with 20-30 something feminist women on tumblr this summer for no discernible reason.

Around the Corner by Jeremy J. Majewski - I haven't read this, I'm only recommending it because someone I know wrote it and I want to support the people in my life :) It's a fantasy novel and it might not even be good but it's self published and I bought a copy because I think writing a book and self publishing is a feat worth celebrating. AND! It might be very very good, I just haven't gotten to it yet. :) So if you want to support independent authors that I know, please buy this book for under $10.

#that's it for now :)#ask again in 6 months the first two books will always be included in my recs #like I need people to read those first two books it's my mission in life to get them in front of people.

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