#now i have WRITTEN THEM and i will NEVER WRITE THEM AGAIN

[azsazz]

Drown in Me

Garrick (Fourth Wing) x Virgin!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: well I absolutely love Garrick. I just know he is such a softie with his partner. Just imagine that you too hate each other but something change during a mission or something and in a two simple word,, you fucked ". And you're virgin and he is so gentle and after he is so sweet.. Ohh I love this man

Warnings: Angst, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, consensual sex.

Word Count: 4417

Notes: DOES NOT CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR ONYX STORM.

I hope whoever requested this actually ages ago is still around. Sorry it took me so long. I'm obsessed with the beginning, it was so much fun to write 💙

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Chradh lands in the middle of the flight field with a roar that shakes the walls of Basgiath.

It’s directed at you, you know it is.

There’s no ducking away from the golden, narrowed gaze of the brown scorpiontail, nor his equally pissed rider. You swear Chradh is glaring at you, and he huffs a breath that reeks of sulfur.

Uisge, your green daggertail growls low in his throat. He stands tall behind you and equal parts of you want to preen and run, because standing between two dragons is never a good idea.

The Section Leader is not pleased, Uisge notes, and yeah, you already knew that.

Tell me something I don’t know, you retort, but lift your chin as you watch Chradh’s rider dismount with a grace you can only wish to emulate someday.

Your breath sticks in your throat at the sight of Garrick, despite the anger written clear on his face. He runs a hand through his now dry, wind-blown black hair, and you’d laugh at the way it sticks straight up if yours wasn’t still plastered to your skull after the unexpected dip you took during flight lessons today.

The Section Leader is not a strong swimmer. You wince. Yeah, that was found out during flight lessons today, too.

You’re frozen beneath that harsh look Garrick pins you with as soon as his boots hit the ground, his hazel eyes glowing with fire. He’s more than angry, he’s fucking fuming, and your boots squelch as you shift your weight to your other foot. You wince as the water from the soles of your boots floods your feet again. You hope you don’t look like a drowned rat.

More like a tiny, water-logged sheep, Uisge adds unhelpfully. Your shoulders fall in defeat. But a tiny sheep with sharp teeth. Head up, little one.

And well, a sheep with sharp teeth is better than a sheep with no teeth at all, so you raise your chin and patiently await your punishment.

Chradh pounds his strong wings, lifting from the ground, his annoyance with you and Uisge clearly over with. You’re sure the two male dragons are speaking through their mind connection, but you’re thankful that Garrick’s dragon is leaving the scene, even if everything that happens here will be seen through your section leader’s eyes.

It’s better not to have the audience for the reaming out you know you’re going to receive.

Much to your chagrin, Uisge follows.

Wait. Where are you going? We should be bearing punishment together! You can’t leave the sheep to face the wolf, you argue, because Garrick most definitely looks like a wolf right now.

I eat sheep and wolves for breakfast, Uisge replies. Is he insinuating that he’d like to eat you? You’re sure you wouldn’t taste good. And neither of them is secretly trying to fuck the other.

You gape, swinging your gaze to your dragon, but Uisge’s back is to you as he flies toward the vale, his daggertail sweeping in the wind.

Garrick approaches, the hilts of twin swords glow in the sun as it beams across the flight field. He could kill you in more ways than one with those weapons, and others, too, according to the neatly aligned patches that trail down the right arm of his flight jacket. Your jacket is bare, with the exception of the lousy wing and year patches you carefully sewed on. You’ve been awaiting receiving your signet patch, and maybe after what happened in training today, Garrick will get on that for you.

A distant roar has you realizing that you shouldn’t be lingering in the flight field lest the next wing prepare for training, so you spin on your heel and start for the courtyard.

Garrick catches up to you quickly, his strides longer than yours. His fingers are tucked into fists at his sides and there’s a low warning growl in his throat that tells you he’s not pleased with the way you walked away from him.

“What the fuck was that back there?” He questions, and you can hear him struggling to keep the anger from eking into his voice. Too late for that, you can hear his frustration clear as day.

Your boots squeak with each step you take and your damp leathers are beginning to chafe against your skin. Being in the blistering sun isn’t helping in the slightest, and you really wish your room was closer to the flight field right now.

And yeah, perhaps slipping off of Uisge’s back during flight maneuvers wasn’t your smartest decision, but you needed a bigger body of water than the bathtub to work on channeling your signet, and this was the only way you were going to get that done.

You didn’t expect Garrick to dive after you.

“I already told you; I slipped.”

“And I already told you,” Garrick scowls, and it twists the pink scar on his jaw in a way that makes you want to trace it. “I don’t believe you.”

You set your jaw as you make your way up the stone stairs, trying not to cringe when every step fills your boots with water. You release your tense shoulders and attempt to drain the liquid from your clothing with a flick of your hand, but all you can manage to do is propel the water from your leathers into your boots.

It’s infuriating.

“You haven’t fallen off Uisge once during flight training, and all of a sudden, a few weeks after your water wielding signet appears, you go tumbling off into a lake?” He asks it like you think he’s stupid. You think he’s far from stupid.

I don’t, Uisge says, and you force your walls up with all of your might.

He’s been watching you?

You mutter, “I didn’t think you’d follow me.”

“It looked like you really fell off! You were under the water for longer than you should’ve!” Garrick says, and you frown. You couldn’t have been under the surface of the water for more than a few seconds. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Let you drown?”

He was much closer to drowning than you were, little one, Uisge’s voice creeps through your mind and you have to force the smile threatening to split your lips away.

“Uisge knows what I’m capable of,” you argue, but it falls flat at the outright disbelief on Garrick’s face.

“He knows what you’re capable of?” He scoffs, then tacks on a dry, mocking laugh. “You can barely even power an ink pen, for Amari’s sake.”

That’s because you’ve been focusing all of your energy on training your signet. Much more important that being able to power a stupid ink pen, in your opinion.

You stay silent so long that you’re on your floor before you know it. With an angered flick of your wrist, your locks click and your door opens an inch. You want to growl in frustration, that door should’ve swung open and stuck in the wall with the anger you attempted to force into it.

You’ll get there, little one, Uisge’s voice trickles through your walls. There really is no getting rid of him.

Leave me alone, Uisge.

I do not take orders from you, he retorts, but you feel him draw away nonetheless.

“Look,” Garrick sighs, shutting the door behind you with lesser magic. It’s an easy move that you have yet to master. “I can’t lose one of my riders to their own stupidity. I won’t let you.”

As his words settle in, you’re all too aware that he’s standing in the middle of your room, only a few feet from you, and the door is closed.

“I wasn’t going to die, Garrick. I knew what I was doing,” you answer, shrugging out of your flight jacket. Although it is no longer water-laden, the temperature in the room has risen, and you need out. You hang it on the back of your chair, missing the way that Garrick’s hazel eyes drink in the sight of the rest of your flight uniform. Today, you chose something thin and lightweight so you aren’t weighed down by the water you knew you were going to practice in. “I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I do, though,” Garrick swallows, and you watch the way his throat bobs. Fuck, he can’t believe he’s doing this, but here the fuck he is, about to confess what’s been haunting him for weeks. You.

“Why?” You surprise him by saying. You cross your arms over your chest, not realizing that the move pushes your breasts higher. In your haze of annoyance, you fail to catch the way his eyes dip down for a peek. “I don’t see you jumping off dragons after any of the other riders!”

“That’s because I don’t have to worry about them,” he argues, taking a step closer. You’re a defiant little thing, so you move closer, too, which leaves your crossed forearms brushing his chest.

“You don’t have to worry about me!”

“I do!” He all but roars. You rock back on your heels in surprise but catch yourself.

Garrick runs a nervous hand through his hair. He’s no longer meeting your gaze, instead staring out the window over your shoulder. Something’s wrong. Something he clearly doesn’t want to tell you.

“Why?” You whisper.

“What?” He croaks; throat raw.

You glare up at him. You wish he would look at you. “Why do you have to worry about me?”

“I—” he trails off, helplessly, and you can see the way he’s talking himself out of admitting what’s on his mind. Maybe he’s even talking to Chradh.

“You what, Garrick?” You prod, an icy bite to your tone. “You think I’m weak?”

“No,” he answers vehemently. His gaze zeroes in on yours and he looks at you like he can’t believe you even said that.

“Then what is it?” You demand. “If it’s not because I’m the weakest link, then why are you worried about me?”

“Because,” Garrick roars, crowing in on you. You fall back but he keeps pushing forward, until your spine slams into the wall and there’s nowhere else for you to go.

Your arms fall as you brace yourself against the wall. Garrick’s chest heaves, and you swear you can feel the rapid beat of his heart from how close you stand. His front is plastered to yours, and there’s a flutter in your stomach that swirls at the fire in his eyes.

“Because I can’t get you out of my fucking head,” he admits, tone taking on a soft edge that converges right between your thighs. Your gaze flickers from one hazel eye to the other, confused at his sudden revelation. “Doesn’t matter where you are, what time of the day it is, you’re always on my mind.” He lifts a hand and gently brushes a strand of wet hair back that clings stubbornly to your cheek. The heat of his skin is searing, just like his words. “It’s like you’re a second Chradh,” he laughs drily, “Though you’re much prettier than him.”

You’re pretty sure that this isn’t real life. That your section leader didn’t just admit the very same thing you’ve been feeling for him since the first moment you laid eyes on him. It must be real, because you’re here, pinned to the wall by his big, strong body, and he’s looking at you like you might just reject him.

And you don’t know what the fuck to do. Sure, you’ve kissed people before, but you’ve never done anything more. You know for a fact that Garrick is well-practiced, with those broad shoulders and handsome face, his deep, dark hair and bright eyes that could surely turn anyone into a puddle.

The words stick in your throat. You don’t know what to say, where to start, and the longer you’re silent in front of him, the more apprehension creeps into his eyes. He shifts uneasily, and you wrack your mind for a response.

Ugh, just kiss him already, Uisge’s voice pops into your head.

Not now, Uisge, you bite, and then you heed your nosey dragon’s advice, and kiss Garrick.

You can tell he’s caught off guard by the way his body stills against yours. Still, you push onward, making it known that you’ve wanted him just as long as he’s wanted you by dragging your palms up his chest, reveling in every ripple of muscle you can feel through his flight jacket.

By the time your hands lock at the nape of his neck, Garrick’s hands are on your hips and his mouth moves against yours.

He lifts you into his arms, pinning you against the wall. Your legs wrap around his waist and he rolls his hips into yours as his tongue traces the seams of your lips. You gasp and Garrick slides his tongue into your mouth like he’s done it a million times. He brushes against yours tentatively, and when you don’t shy away from him, he advances.

One of his large hands slides up your waist, finding its way beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, exploring the smooth skin of your sides.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you,” Garrick mutters against the nape of your neck before sucking a harsh mark there. Your head thumps against the wall and your back arches into his body at the feeling of being claimed. It feels like threshing all over again, but this is better. Sorry Uisge.

Other than a rumble of protest down the bond, your stubborn daggertail doesn’t interrupt.

“How long?” you gasp when his lips find the spot that makes you melt into him. Your fingers scrabble against his flight jacket, nails scratching the thick fabric. Garrick growls in frustration, pulling back just far enough to drop his swords, unzip himself, and tear the fabric form his back. His black shirt follows, exposing those beautiful broad shoulders of his. You can’t help but trail your fingers across his pectorals and down his chest, admiring every inch of his body. Zihnal must be with you right now, because you’ve never felt luckier than you do right now.

“Since the day you chose Uisge,” he pants, helping you discard your own shirt. Your bra quickly follows, and Garrick’s hazel eyes latch onto your body like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. Your nipples pucker under his heady gaze and he loses his train of thought in favor of bending down to suck a pert bud into his mouth, reveling in the way that you gasp and wriggle as he circles his tongue around the hard nub.

Threshing. He’s liked you since threshing, when you chose Uisge. You think it’s an odd way to phrase what happened that day, but in Garrick’s eyes, that’s exactly what it was. You, stubborn thing that you are, staring down the green daggertail with that look in your eye, the same one you always give him. The same one that makes his cock ache.

“Garrick,” you gasp, arching into him. He’s not close enough, not with your trousers still acting as a barrier from where he ruts his thick cock into you. Your fingers claw at the waistband of his pants. “Off.”

Garrick peels you from the wall, trailing his mouth back up to meet yours in a kiss that steals your breath. He’s very good at this, gentle, too, as he lies you on your bed and he works your pants loose from your hips.

“Fuck me,” he breathes when you’re fully exposed. A flush of red crawls up your body from your toes to your cheeks under that scrutinizing gaze of his. “Look at you.”

The sudden urge to cover yourself flares to life. You’re nervous, even more so when he drops his trousers and his cock bobs, heavy and swollen. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, all rippling muscle and perfect cock, his eyes only for you.

“Garrick,” you whisper, unable to keep the fear from your tone. While his cock is pretty, it looks like it’s big enough to rip you in half. You scramble away from him as he places a knee on the bed, feeling guilty at the confusion on his face. “I’ve never…” you trail off, cheeks burning red.

His uncertainty melts into understanding. “That’s okay, we don’t have to if you don’t—”

“No,” you protest, almost too quickly. Your voice has taken on a desperate volume, and you lower it before continuing. “I want to have sex with you, I really do,” you swallow, eyes dipping to his cock. It’s glistening at the tip. “I just wanted you to know, in case…” you trail off. In case he doesn’t fuck virgins.

The furrow between his brows creeps back. “I want you,” he presses, holding your eyes so that you know exactly how much this moment means to him. “If you want me, I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You nod, almost dazed. Even though he’s told you this already, the words send a current of excitement zipping down your body where it converges between your thighs.

You want him too.

“Come here, then, Garrick.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Garrick kneels at the foot of the bed. He hooks his fingers around your ankles and carefully drags you closer to him, hazel eyes heady with lust. The effortless way that he tugs you to him has your pussy fluttering with need, a movement that he tracks.

When you near him, he slips from the bed, sliding to his knees. Carefully, Garrick tucks your legs over each of his shoulders, and you can feel each exhale he makes brushing your core. You bite your lip so you don’t release an impatient whine, but for Amari’s sake, you’ve never needed something so badly in your life.

“Is this okay?” he asks, tracing soothing circles into the meat of your thighs with his thumbs. He peppers kisses across the sensitive skin, grinning wildly when your hips buck beneath his mouth.

“Yes,” you moan, circling your hips as if to chase his lips. You want him on you now, licking you and teasing you and making you come on his tongue. “Please, Garrick, I—oh!”

You moan loud and wanton as the tip of his tongue flicks across your clit in an explorative swipe. Garrick locks that sound away in the back of his mind and dips down for another taste, scooping your slick up with his tongue. He’s going to enjoy the fuck out of drawing all these noises from you.

You’re fucking wet. The wettest pussy he’s ever had. You writhe against his tongue, panting and moaning at the different ways he uses his tongue. True to your stubborn nature, it isn’t long before your fingers are locked into his hair, guiding him while you chase your pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he says as he switches from tongue fucking you to sucking harshly at your clit. He nips at the joint of your hip when you keen in frustration. You even go so far as to lift your head from the mattress to glare down at him. His eyes fucking glow in response and he holds your needy gaze. “Take what you need.”

There’s a smart retort on the tip of your tongue but it melts into a moan of pleasure when his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks. Garrick adds his tongue into the mix, flicking it across your clit like he’s flipping through a never-ending deck of cards. When he adds a finger, your pleasure grows. When he adds a second, your orgasm crashes down around you in pure bliss. He doesn’t stop his attention on your clit until you’re a whining mess and trying to shove him off for a moment of reprieve.

“You did so good for me,” he murmurs across your skin, lips brushing your navel, your breasts as he climbs onto the bed. Your hands relax, melting down his shoulders, tracing the rebellion relic. “Do you need to stop, or can I put my cock in you?” He asks gently, with a firm kiss to your lips.

“Cock,” you echo, still lost in the throes of your orgasm. You’ll be damned if you miss that chance to have him wholly. “Need your cock.”

“That’s my girl,” Garrick whispers, and you preen.

He guides you into a better position, a pillow beneath your hips. His hand is warm on your calf as he directs you to hook your legs around his taut waist. You peer down at his cock, red and leaking and you’re more than ready for him. You’re a mess for him.

Your breath catches in your chest as he guides his tip in. His words are soothing, gentle as he runs his cock through your slick for easier entry. “That’s it, just like that. It might hurt at first, but I promise I’ll take care of you.” He says, and how the fuck can you not melt for him with those pretty words?

Each inch he presses into you punches the air from your lungs. Your body tightens as you stretch around his girth. His cock is hot, branding your insides.

Garrick senses your discomfort and pauses. The halt makes you whine. “How are you doing?”

“Need you closer,” you admit, screwing your eyes shut. You lift your hands and Garrick carefully lowers himself, trying not to lose his head and fuck all the way into you until his hips meet yours. He’s so gentle, so caring, and your heart swells because of it.

He presses his forehead to yours, thumbing a soft pattern against your cheek. “Relax,” he coaxes softly. Your eyes pop open, meeting those lovely hazel ones. “I can stop anytime you want.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you answer, slowly unlocking your limbs. You didn’t realize that you were digging your nails into the meat of his shoulders, and you carefully retract your claws. “I want you to keep going.”

It takes agonizing minutes until his pelvis rests against yours. Garrick’s reassuring praises helped keep you calm, even made you wetter for him with that wicked tongue of his. He distracted you with kisses and promises, lingering touches and admissions.

Gods, you feel so full. You didn’t think that you’d be able to take him all the way yet here you are with his cock fully sheathed inside of you. It feels right. He feels like home.

On your own time, you give a tentative roll of your hips. Garrick bites his lip to contain the moan that creeps up his throat, but you do nothing to hide yours. Yes, you get why sex is amazing, and you’re about to find out what sex with Garrick is like.

“If you keep squeezing my cock like that, I’m going to meet Malek sooner than intended,” Garrick pants, but fuck if he doesn’t love the way you’re squirming on his cock, drunk off of the sheer size of him.

“Move,” you gasp, fingers tightening on the back of his biceps. “I need you to move, Garrick.”

He heeds your direction like the good rider he is.

He starts out slow, letting you get used to his size. He kisses the furrow between your brow, rocking in and out until it disappears and you’re whimpering for him to move faster. You’re soaking his cock, which makes it all too easy to maneuver quicker, shifting his hips until you’re crying out and your nails are locked into his skin of his back again, raking down his spine.

He doesn’t even care if you leave red traces down his back. He’d rather be reminded of this moment than the scar that’s forever marred into his skin.

“Yes,” you hiss, arching into him. Garrick sucks a mark into the plush skin of your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth. “Yes yes yes!” He’s ravaging you in every way, feels like he’s using his air wielding to steal the air from your lungs. You know that your lack of breath is simply just from being in his presence, his dashing good looks have always managed to take your breath away.

Garrick is attentive, tracing every part of your body he can reach. He draws a map in his mind, committing exactly what places and noises correspond. He would stay buried in you for fucking days if he could, but the harder you let him fuck into you has his gut coiling, that familiar heat buzzing down his spine.

He slides a hand between your bodies and finds your clit like he’s been fucking you for way longer than one night. You tug his head down in a desperate kiss, whimpering in pleasure into his mouth as his finger draws tight circles around your sensitive nub, chasing you toward that edge that still feels foreign yet so familiar at the same time.

“Come for me,” Garrick whispers, and you have no choice but to listen to your section leader.

You topple over the edge of oblivion. It’s similar to the feeling you experienced earlier, when you let yourself slip from Uisge’s back. A freefall, yet it’s so much more than that. It’s strong arms crashing down with you, a cock between your legs that’s hitting all the right spots. It’s soft words of encouragement from a man you’d never thought you’d get to see this much of. Hazel eyes that you’re falling into.

Garrick comes shortly after you, when he’s sure that you’ve experienced the best first orgasm of your life with him. There will be no one who will treat you like this, he’s vowed to ruin sex with any other man for you. But he’s ready to stick around if you are, as long as you don’t go jumping from your dragon with a death wish without letting him know first.

“That was…” you trail off in bliss. There’s a satisfied smile on your face, one that makes Garrick preen. Your eyes are shut and the lazy way you stroke his hair makes him fall harder, melt further into your body. “Thank you.”

“No,” he counters gently, brushing your hair from your face. It’s damp for an entirely different reason than the lake now, stuck to your skin with sweat. “Thank you,” he says, and leans down for one more intoxicating kiss.

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt.11

AN: The WEEK I have had omg. I was in the hospital then my partner was in the hospital and now I'm exhausted and the mental illness is coming back an bro I just wanna write about my funky lil guys.,

Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2 -> Part Seven -> Part Eight -> Part Nine -> Part Nine 1/2 -> Part Ten

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, canonical references to harmful treatment of the other toons, mentions of smoking but no actual smoking, approximately two dirty jokes (Who makes them may surprise you)

☁ The air is cool tonight. It chills his cheek as he leans on the balcony, the once chilled stone of the railing warm under his arms as a reminder of how long he's been out there.

☁ He wants to go back. He can hear your soft breaths and Cosmo's grumbles as he rolls back and forth a few times, but something in his gut curdles at the thought, crawling up his stomach and threatening to choke him.

☁ How can he go back to the group, to you, knowing what he knows now. It runs rampant in his brain he's sure he's almost dislodged his leaves by the number of times he's pulled at them.

☁ Him and Astro have since made it a habit of going through the old records of Gardenview, as it's both nostalgic and bittersweet, reading through the memories of things previously lost to him. Seeing the video of him and Cosmo baking, or the screenplays written for adventures between the four of you, or even just the letters the Toon Handlers had written concerning them all make his chest ache. Just the thought the four of you had previously been close before all of this is both a solemn thought and a warm comfort.

☁ He wonders what could've been prior to the breakout. What could've come from...well, all of it, really. There's a sinking feeling that nags in the back of his head at the thought, knowing if things had continued the way they were, there was a good chance he never would've gotten the chance to be with you and Cosmo.

☁ Him and Astro had the benefit of consistently being in each other's company, but since going through the old records, he's come to the disheartening realization that it was because of the breakout he was gifted with the opportunity to get to know the other commons, you especially. He knew Cosmo previously, even if his Handler attempted to minimize the contact between the two, but he truly didn't know you beyond the cute delivery toon and the minimal scripts that had you and him interacting for no more than a few minutes.

☁ While the ichor breakout was an awful thing, and he would never wish it to happen again, a part of him is grateful. It granted him a freedom he didn't know he was starving for.

☁ That being said, freedom doesn't come without it's cons. He's gotten on Rodger's case before for investigating areas he has no right to do, but those are mostly far more personal matters rather the general history behind Gardenview. Unfortunately for him and Astro, this lack of restriction has led to a few startling discoveries over the treatment of the toons that weren't mains.

☁ Recently, the Christmas toons had started making their own appearances on floors, so in the pursuit of getting Dandy research, you had also made it a personal mission to get them back too. So far, you had successfully gotten Ginger and Coal back, with Rudie evading you at every turn and the Bobette research slow going. They, Ginger and Coal, were stand-offish to begin with and while he didn't understand it, he gave them their space and left them to Cosmo and Pebble.

☁ After reading what happened to them after the Christmas season, however, he understood and worked with Astro to get Ginger's room an assortment of nightlights as to minimize the reminder of the old closets they used to remain locked in. Additionally, Shrimpo and Finn had been able to carve out a sizable doggy door in the wall beside the door for Coal to come and go as she pleased. Rudie's future room and Bobette's as well were both being fitted with similar things as well and- to his chagrin, as he looks back to check on you all- your room will need one too as he watched Coal's tail thump quietly, Pebble by her side and Blu on top of her.

☁ He blames Blu in all honesty. The lovable little shit had a way of making everyone love her, despite the circumstances of her appearance.

☁ Which was another thing entirely and the source of his current bout of restlessness. He groans lowly, rolling his shoulders back. His fingers itch for a smoke, but he promised himself he'd quite. It started when he was younger as a rebellious act against Sam, taking one from their packs and hacking at it until he got the hang over it. His own way of previously taking back his freedom. However, with it now freely granted, it wasn't needed and he, for the most part, quit it easily. It was mostly just a stress response at this point.

☁ He'd consider himself stressed at this point though. The most recent set of files had been...off. They'd been reluctant to open the file, as it was sealed with wax and stamped with all sorts of red warnings- very unlike the other files they'd gone through previously. They'd opened it anyway, reading through various employment records for an individual neither he nor Astro have heard of before.

☁ It was going on and on about an individual named Ciara, her start date of employment, her pay rate, her credentials and especially her role in Gardenview. It was written in black, bolded lettering, all caps to ensure there was no confusion. He can see it now, every time he blinks, flashing behind his eyelids as a reminder. "Ciara [Redacted]: TOON HANDLER"

☁ The only problem is he couldn't even begin to remember any other main besides the five of them, Dandy and Bobette. A part of him thought she was Bobette's Handler, but the employment date didn't line up with the holiday season. Astro had tried to hypothesis that she could've been a temporary replacement for one of the other handlers, but Sprout has a feeling he knows better. In fact, he's sure the room behind him, where the rest of you are fast asleep, was hers. It was the only one without a placard.

☁ He never doubted you ever. He knew this intricately, believed it to this day. No, his theory was that you didn't even know about it really, but too many things lined up for him to ignore it. It was little things that only meant something in hindsight.

☁ Things he never would've spotted previously coming back as he thinks all the way back to when he was first recovered. He remembers watching you outrun Twisted Pebble, managing to keep up in a way he knew the other common toons couldn't do when they were distracting. You had gotten hit during the retrieval run, but kept in front of him for the majority of time they needed to finish machines. Hell, he doesn't know how many times you've nearly sent him into cardiac arrest just by how...easily you're able to distract. It just comes naturally to you.

☁ Pebble, also, was right away practically attached to you at the shins, following you everywhere you went with a happy little tail wag. That originally is why Sprout figured Dandy hated you, but the further he thought about it, the more he thought there was a different reason. One he just didn't know yet.

☁ The biggest indicator literally slaps him in the face every morning. Blu's appearance, while was instigated by Dandy's interference, was still something he couldn't understand. Normal, common toons very rarely could interact with the magic within the tapes. There's only one he knows of, and that's Teagan. And even then, it's limited to influencing her own person. She cannot extend that magic to anything beyond herself. That is something exclusive to mains.

☁ They all use it to a degree, just not in the same way he does. The magic is everywhere, contrary to what most of the commons think, it's just strongest in the tapes, which is what he uses for his own ability. But the others call on it in different ways too. Vee uses the general area of tapes and where the magic is strongest to get a general sight on twisteds in the area. Shelly weaves it through into the machines to make them fill faster. Astro himself uses just a bit to rejuvenate someone's stamina. Hell, even Pebble uses the magic in the tapes to make himself appear like a larger target to twisteds after he barks. It's why they can't do it all the time, they need to let the energy stabilize. Recharge.

☁ Which is why he can't get over you doing it at all. Even with Dandy's interference, you shouldn't have been able to interfere with the magic unless you were....made with that ability.

☁ His eyes widen as he whips his head to look back into the room. Astro's not there, but Sprout can vaguely remember him telling him that he was going for a short walk. You and Cosmo are wrapped around each other, burrowing into the other in a heaping mass of legs, arms and tails.

☁ His eyes immediately dart to one of your hands. It's curled around Cosmo's shirt, flexing slightly before your fingers stretch out as you gently shift, the rest of your arm stretching out as well. There, in all their glory, are your paw pads. He moved off it too fast last time, but now it's all he can focus on. For all the times he's held your hand, felt you cup his cheeks, watched you do anything with your hands, not once did they stick out to him because they were something you aways had.

☁ Something you always had.

☁ Your hand curls back around Cosmo as he burrows into your neck, mindlessly hiking your leg further up where it's hooked around his side.

☁It wasn't momentary. It was all right there, in front of him, in front of them, and they'd all been blind to it. Even your twisted had shoved itself in his face, steps heavy and purposeful and audible. Your twisted even had an ability. While it wasn't a debuff like Shelly's or Astro's, or even incredibly fast (to a degree) like Pebbles, it was like his twisted. It could influence the environment. It charged and took away cover, took away any form of safety those who ran into it had.

☁ Falling against the railing, Sprout's eyes are stuck on you. If you were a main, what happened? Why were you practically wiped from the records, meant to remain a forgotten background character? Did it have to do with Dandy's distaste towards you? Did you have a passive ability that they just weren't aware of? Did you have any idea whatsoever?

☁ The door to the bedroom slowly opens, Astro slipping in before closing it just as silently as it was opened. He looks to the bed, nodding his head with every mental count he does before pausing. One of his hands physically points at both you and Cosmo, coming up empty for the third. Sprout smiles despite the current thoughts he's having, gently knocking on the balcony loud enough for the celestial to hear.

☁ He looks over at the noise, visibly relaxing before moving to join. He deters to the bed for a moment, bringing the blanket further up yours and Cosmo's shoulders before walking out to the balcony. Two of his hands reach for Sprout's cheeks, thumb running over the seeds. "You're cheeks are chilled. How long have you been out here?"

☁ Long enough." Sprout mutters, laying his forehead on Astro's. "I've been thinking."

☁ "About Ciara?" Astro questions, and feels Sprout nod. "I-...I think I know who's handler she was."

☁ Astro remains silent, but he knows the other is still listening. Lifting his head, he looks back into the room, watching over you and Cosmo once more. Cosmo's rolled onto his back, mouth open as his breaths turn into damn near snores. You're on his chest, drooling onto his shirt. Both of you look content and peaceful, Astro surely ensuring your dreams are just so as well.

☁ There's silence between them before Astro is humming softly, his tail giving a gentle sway. "I thought so too, honestly." He sighs. "Too many things add up for it to be otherwise, I'm afraid."

☁ "...Do we tell them?" They have no method of confirming this short of turning this entire place inside out, which they have neither the time, patience or energy to do so. But it makes that earlier feeling rot in his stomach further and the idea of not telling you makes him nearly lose his supper.

☁ "I think we can bring the possibility and our concerns up to them." Astro hums, ever so calm. He always is, levelheaded and soft, consistent with his needs and open with what he expects from them and himself. While they all try to remain open with communication there are times where Sprout is so lost in the need to care and protect you three he forgets to express his worries out loud, or Cosmo is so wrapped up in his own anxieties that he refuses to try and push them onto the rest of you; even you've been known to break down in your own frustrations every now and again, simmering in your own little nest of pouty huffs and scoffs under your breath. But never Astro. The celestial has always been straight with them, even if he's grinding his teeth or wringing his hands as he does.

☁ And there is nothing Sprout appreciates more, especially in instances like this where he himself can barely think straight, but is quickly reoriented by the other. "Do you remember?"

☁ Astro falls silent as he comes up with a response. Sprout knows he doesn't need to expand on the question, but enjoys watching the other's thought process anyway. "I...can't say that I don't." Astro says carefully. "I have memories of running scenes with them, but I can't pinpoint if I knew they were a main or not. Just that they were...there. They always were." His lips spread into a small content smile as he looked over to where you and Cosmo where still sleeping soundly.

☁ Upon further glance though, it didn't appear as sound as it once was as you were now the victim of Cosmo's grappling, huffing as he rolled to lay on top of you. Sprout knows from first hand experience that if you aren't prepared for Cosmo's dead weight, it's like a punch to the gut. He only semi-pities you.

☁ "C'mon, you need some sleep." Astro huffs, moving to shove Sprout forward into the bedroom. "And we need to possible save Y/N."

☁ Sprout gives a chuckle at this before conceding, crawling into one side of the bed as Astro crawls into the other, the latter taking on Cosmo, who immediately wraps himself around the celestial while Sprout is allowed to wrap himself around you.

☁ The feeling in his gut is somewhat satiated, more so when you eagerly burrow into his chest with a content little purr. It makes his chest ache in a way he's not too sure is positive or negative just yet, and instead chooses to hold onto you anyway. His hand blindly grabs for Astro's and squeezes it the second he cans. He hopes the presence is enough to sooth his dreams for the night.

☁ Morning comes faster than you expect, but you pay it no mind as your attention is kept rapt and forward. Your brows are furrowed as you play with your fingers, tilting your head when no immediate change happens. "Do you think he's dead?"

☁ "Don't you manifest that." Cosmo hisses from where he's trying to pull away from Astro. His butt waggles in the air, which does in fact catch your attention and makes you smirk as you watch it, as he uses his legs to try and pull back, but Astro's grip is ironclad; you would know.

☁ "It doesn't make sense." You huff, having half a mind to take a picture so it'll last as long as you need it too. Cosmo's tail unfurls for a second to give a harsh little whip before he groans. "You could help!"

☁ You ignore him, instead returning your attention to what caught it in the first place. "He's always awake first though."

☁ Cosmo gives one final pull, practically cheering as he tumbles free only to tumble right off the bed. Once more, you could've helped and caught him, as you're sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, but you only grin at him from his place on the floor. He shakes his head before shooting you a glare, using the bed to help himself up. "Thanks, my loving, and oh so caring partner who is supposed to love and help me in sickness and in health-"

☁ You shush him and his sarcastic tirade, forcing his chin to look at the duo on the bed. Astro immediately turns to lock onto Sprout, but the flicker in his tail tells you he's slowly waking up and probably listening to your bickering.

☁ "He's still asleep." You repeat, as if this is some big thing. Cosmo rolls his eyes with a scoff. "Astro is always-"

☁ "Not Astro."

☁ Cosmo looks over and as if it dawns on him for the first time, his eyes widen at the sight of Sprout. His leaves are messy with bed-head, but he's still sound asleep, shoulders rising steadily with every cute little breath.

☁ Cosmo's jaw drops and suddenly he's right next to you, watching Sprout as if he were another exhibit in the museum. "Is he dead?"

☁ "Oh, so when you do it, it's funny, but when I do it-"

☁ "It's still just as loud no matter which of you ding dongs do it." Astro huffs, startling you both. Cosmo slips back down to the floor with a thud and you nearly follow him, if not for Astro's tail whipping out to catch your hand. The celestial blinks awake, eyes darting to the two of you. "Are you both done?"

☁ "Sprout's still asleep!" You exclaim, as if this explains everything. Astro raises a brow, looking at the berry asleep on his chest, raising a brow as if to ask 'so?'.

☁ "He's never asleep this long!" You explain, gesturing wildly. "That's not our Sprout!"

☁ "I promise he's our Sprout." Astro easily reassures you both, watching Cosmo crawl back onto the bed, sitting far enough on the bed he wouldn't go tumbling for a third time.

☁ Sprout nose scrunches and he shifts and the three of you tense at the action. It's quiet enough you could hear a pin drop before Sprout is settling once more and you let out a sigh of relief

☁ "Not dead." You breath at last. "That's good, I was not looking forward to learning Ichor necromancy to bring him back if only to kill him myself."

☁ "I feel like this is a rare occasion. Like...Christmas." Cosmo adds, watching Sprout as well. "Or my birthday. Or maybe his birthday. Though, for future reference, if it was my birthday I would expect more. Maybe an early birthday gift." The diva shrugs, even if you shoot him a glare.

☁ "I have an inappropriate name to call you." You jokingly shove him before your perking up. "Hey! You know what this means?"

☁ "I don't think I want too." Astro huffs, furrowing the space between his brows.

☁ "Nothing bad!" You quickly reassure. "Or dirty." You add, shooting a look at Cosmo, who sticks his tongue out. "Kitchen's open." Is what you say at last, a devious grin spreading over your features.

☁ "Sprout'll kill you." Astro pipes in.

☁ "Uh, not if you take one for the team." You shoot back. "I'm not saying Gigi was in charge of inventory this time, but I am saying my record is 40 pudding cups and the chance at fifty bucks."

☁ "Fifty whole dollars. Wow- that's- Just woowww." Astro rolls his eyes sarcastically. "How did you know I've always wanted a sugar daddy?"

☁ Cosmo snickers even if you lean into the part, crossing your arms and puffing out your chest. "I'll get you the finest pops that I find on the ground, baby, don't you worry."

☁ This time Astro snickers, as if despite himself. "You're impossible."

☁ "Not yet, I'm not." You grin, moving to slide off the bed, but Pebble is right there, glaring up at you as if daring you to do so.

☁ Your jaw drops at this, once more foiled by this silly little creature who seems to have the ultimate vendetta against your kitchen escapades. Cosmo peers over your shoulder to see what make you pause before letting out a burst of giggles, only to clap a hand over his mouth before they have the chance to truly escape.

☁ "Remind me to give him a treat later." Your attention turns back to where Sprout is comfortable laying against Astro, letting the celestial play with his leaves, even if his eyes are locked on you. You have the audacity to give him a sheepish grin.

☁ "Heyyyy, youuu-" You begin, knowing you've been caught before you could even really truly leave.

☁ Sprout levels a look at you. "Well, now I know what you've been trying to do lately." He huffs before sitting up at last, rubbing his eyes before leaning back to press a kiss to Astro's lips. Cosmo eagerly crawls forward to be next, tail wagging behind him, and though you pout at being last, you accept your own good morning kiss.

☁ "Good, now Sprout's awake and we know he's not dead, about that early Birthday present-" Cosmo leans over, only for you to shove him by his face.

☁ "Actually," Sprout cuts in, looking back at Astro who nods. "We were hoping we could...talk?"

☁ You and Cosmo both settle, immediately sensing the shift and responding accordingly. You both sit side by side, watching Sprout with your full attention.

☁ He takes a breath, sitting forward as he plays with his fingers. "...What do you know of someone named Ciara?"

[rizzoreads88]

✨Reasons why I Think Gwyn isn’t getting her own POV✨

1) We already know so much about her.

In acosf we get a ton of information about Gwyn. We get her reveal of her deep rooted trauma, how it affects her and her starting to overcome her fear. We also get background info on her lineage. We learn alot of about her personality and we see her start to really grow. If she was getting her own POV SJM would have saved most of that for her story and her POV. Let’s look at Lidia and Yrene for example. We got little bits and pieces of info about them before their POV but we didn’t get to learn their true story or traumas until their pov. We see them start to grow and overcomes their pasts through their pov. Let’s contrast that with characters like Asterin & Fenrys. They are strong supporting characters but we got their trauma and start of their growth from Manon & Aelins POVs. We got their feelings about what they went through, through someone else’s POVS. Just like we did for Gwyn.

2) She is not tied to the over arching plot.

Gwyn has never even met Feyre, the main character to the story. Gwyn is tied to the Valkyries and to Nesta but not to the over arching plot. Let’s look at Yrene for example. Yrene came in in Assassins blade in Aelins storyline. She was directly tied to the over arching plot through Aelin and being a healer. Now contrast that with Asterin. Asterin was important in Manons story and she was tied to the 13. While a important character in Manons story she was not tied to the over arching plot. Just like Gwyn is important to Nesta and the Valkyries.

3) There was no hints to her in Hofas.

When SJM is bringing in a new main character she leaves little hints leading up to it before we get there. Again Yrene we got hints to her in assassins blade and aelin remembers the healer she met then at different times, Lidia had building up since the first CC book. Now since Gwyn came in in Acosf the only other book she could have had some hints to is HOFAS. And we got absolutely nothing for her. Which honestly suprised me regardless because this would have been the PERFECT time to give a little something something about Gwyn seeing as this was the world crossover and Gwyn had been working with Merrill studying the possibility of other worlds.

If you go but SJMS writing style it doesn’t seem likely Gwyn is getting her own POV. I know anti elriels like to try and equate Gwyn to Yrene but Gwyn is acotars Asterin. Both great characters and important as supporting characters but we get their story through someone else POV. If Acotar was written in multiple POVs (3+ POVs per book at times)like TOG or Crescent city then I could see maybe but since SJM has said the last 2 remaining books & Novella will be focused on 2 different couples I don’t think it’s likely Gwyn who is the newest character, is not tied to the over arching plot and has already had a growth arc is going to get one of those.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Darry Curtis was always gay- the musical just makes it more obvious.

I know it was never Hinton’s INTENTION for any of her characters to be perceived as queer, she claims she didn’t write them that way, and that’s fine. In fact, I think reading The Outsiders as a group of straight men who have the bonds they do is actually a really great critique of toxic masculinity, in that we would see the contrast between their interactions one on one or alone with the group, compared to their macho, hyper masculine personas they showcase in public. HOWEVER, I think it’s incredibly hard to read it that way because Hinton accidentally and completely unintentionally made Darry Curtis one of the gayest characters in modern literature. It’s not far fetched. It’s not a stretch. I’m saying that if you have even a surface level understanding of subtext that it is obvious. Darry’s queerness is as open  in the novel as he is in his life- that is, it’s never said explicitly, but it’s VERY easy to see the signs. In fact, the way it’s threaded into the narrative but very talked around leads me to believe that even though Darry wasn’t out, it might have been an open secret within the gang- or at the very least they probably had some suspicions. 

For one, in the book Darry is never mentioned even once to have had a girlfriend, or even to have gone on dates, but we know he was popular and well liked. You can’t convince me that a handsome, popular football player, whose peers liked him enough to vote him Boy of The Year, didn’t have more than a few girls interested in him, but Pony’s narration never even alludes to Darry having been interested in one. For all he talks up Darry’s achievements, the scholarship he won, the future he could have had and everything he gave up, women/a girlfriend were never a part of it- which, given the time period and Darry’s reliance on hyper masculine social scripts, seems highly uncharacteristic unless there was a plausible explanation for his complete disinterest (ie. being gay). Now, examine this hyper masculinity a little further, and you can see it for what it is, a) a defence mechanism (because it separates him from stereotypes of what a gay men are like, so if he’s ‘manly’ enough no one will ever suspect or discover what he is) and b) the unfortunate complete opposite of that. Just like how hyper femininity characteristic to femme lesbians is off putting to men, the same is true to some degree about hyper masculine men being somewhat off putting to women. Not to the same degree, and probably not as obviously, but Darry’s  over the top masculinity might be the one thing effective in keeping (some) women away for reasons they can’t quite put their finger on. Point is, Darry was never a ladies man, to a degree that is very not heterosexual, especially for the time period.

So, now that we’ve established Darry’s complete disinterest in dating women,  his hypermasculine personality and it’s possible implications, let’s turn to other textual support for his queerness: his relationships with other male characters. I’m not talking about the gang- his interactions with all of them are very friendly/familial-  but he has a bond with Tim Shepard that is clear on the page but left largely unexplained (their weird eye contact and high mutual respect, the fact Tim was at their house once with no explanation), and his homoerotic run in/fight with Paul at the rumble. Both these relationships have plausible deniability- they’re not explicitly gay, but they’re also not NOT gay. Again, Hinton didn’t intentionally make Darry gay, but he very much is, and as far as closeted gay characters go, he’s a fairly well written one, because the subtext is very much THERE if you know what you’re looking for, but the queerness of his interactions is shrouded in this very real this COULD mean nothing characteristic of a lot of closeted queer interactions. 

Having said all this, I think the musical making Darry and Paul’s fight (somehow) even more charged and homoerotic than it is in the book was a wise choice, because a lot of the rest of the subtext was changed/missing from the musical adaptation. I’ve seen the ritfr analysis looking at the lyrics as they relate to Darry’s queerness, and I do think they follow the veiled/subtextual theme, but I don’t think they’re as explicitly gay as they’re touted to be. However, I do think the musical does a good job of highlighting Darry’s queerness given the medium they’re working with, and the actors do an amazing job portraying it without saying it outright, making it more obvious than it is on the page- but Darry was canonically gay in the book too, and let’s not pretend otherwise.

(Lmk if you want to see my analysis of the other Curtis’ queerness as it related to the book + musical).

[familyagrestefanblog]

No, you know what? I AM upset at how Marinette in "Illustrhater" just put all of that on Alya again without giving her a real option to say "no", all while she once more leaves Chat Noir in the dust to find it out the worst possible way again that he isn't her real partner when he'll be forced to accept under the most painful circumstances that Ladybug didn't want him, too, to be able to contact her memory spirit when she's gone.

Marinette is an insanely inconsidered and self-serving "partner" for BOTH Chat Noir and Alya! No, I'm not okay with that. Fuck all that. Not only has she never actually grown since season 4, she is actively getting worse again in how little she ever thinks about other people.

I AM upset at Marinette using her guardian privilege to ignore the natural bonding and partnership needed between a Kwami and their holder just so she can feel better and in control. I don't give a DAMN that Alya spend alot of time with Marinette and Tikki since season 4, Marinette still has no business ordering Tikki to make a Kwagatama! And no, I don't care about your headcanon that it was Tikki's idea or she's on the same page as Marinette regarding Alya. That didn't happen on screen. YOU made that explanation up to deflect the problem.

And yes, I AM upset at Marinette just dismissing Trixx' objection because he wants to stay with Alya! Marinette got all the excuses and special treatments in the world in season 4 for sidelining Tikki more and more and literally giving no SHIT about Plagg beyond her getting validation, because she's "such a caring guardian who's putting so much on herself to finally treat the Kwamis with love"

And now not only did she dismiss Barkk in the London special when Barkk wanted to hold Nathalie accountable for helping Gabriel and the harm she caused the KWAMIS by keeping them locked up,

not only did she keep a clearly worried Plagg from returning to his beloved chosen for at least several days (which also lead to Cerise just needing to take both Miraculous from ONE person. This was long established as reason why one person shouldn't have both the Ladybug AND the Black Cat!)

No, now she's dismissing Trixx, too, entirely when he dared to ask for his bond with Alya to matter more than Marinette's need to get every easy and fast solution she thinks of first!

Where is that caring Guardian Marinette got all excuses and special treatments in the world for being? She ain't on screen! Marinette just didn't give a shit about Trixx' feelings or what Alya thinks of it. She just decides that once she's gone Alya will be the Ladybug, Guardian, and team leader, and Trixx will be given to someone else.

No one has a saying in anything. No one matters. No one's feelings, experiences, and desires matter. In Marinette's writing, only MARINETTE matters.

She won't listen. She won't consider. SHE decides what everyone feels and SHE decides what everyone is and will be.

No growth, no attempts at trying to improve. She's just written to take for herself whatever she wants and then cries and screams how misunderstood and tormented she is when reality dares to clash with her inconsideration for the third season in a row!

Yes, I AM upset!

[flightfoot]

About Lila's lies, perhaps i'm the only one that thinks this but i feel a lot of her lies aren't as bad as a lot of people claim. Like a majority of the class (especially Marinette) have a few outlandish achievements or facts that sound like massive lies themselves, so it makes sense that they wouldn't doubt Lila when she claimed the same.

Oh, AGREED. Here's a list of her bragging-type and I-need-help-type lies.

Lila: You know I actually happen to be very close friends with Ladybug.

I mean, it's not absurd that she might be Ladybug's friend. "Close friends" might be up for interpretation, but this really isn't crazy. Especially since it's actually true for Alya.

Rose: Can you believe Lila knows Prince Ali? She even flew in his private jet with him!

Rose knows Prince Ali. I don't know why she's even impressed by this. I wouldn't even find it weird if she flew with him on his private jet.

Chloé: Why did Jagged Stone write a song about Lila when he could've written it about me?

I mean he wrote a song about Marinette unknowingly, he even wrote a song rubbing it in Anarka's face that he was ditching her and the twins. I don't actually think it'd be that weird for him to write a song about Lila, if she impressed him.

Nino: Lila knows all of the Hollywood directors. She promised she'd mention me to Steven Basielberg himself!

Lila's story is that her mom's a diplomat, and that DOES appear to be the case for one of them. So I wouldn't be surprised if she ran into a bunch of hollywood directors at some fancy party or something, like Gabriel hosts.

Lila:(stopping him from grabbing the book) Of course she's in your book. She's one of the most important superheroes. More powerful and more celebrated than Ladybug. (Marinette is angered by the comment) Between you and me Ladybug doesn't even make the top ten. (Marinette bites down on the book) My grandma gave me this necklace.

Superheroes exist in this world, and have for a long time, so it's not that ridiculous. Though it WOULD be weird that Adrien had never heard of her if she was as celebrated as she claims. And it helps that the book confirms that there were a ton of superheroes around who Adrien never heard of before.

Lila: It's absolutely amazing! Prince Ali invited me and my parents to his gorgeous palace.

One of her moms is a diplomat, so this wouldn't be too out of place.

Lila: Oh, it's nothing much! During our world travels, my diplomat parents have helped me convince the leaders of several nations to agree to reduce world pollution. (Adrien shakes his head) And I'm very optimistic that the prince will jump on board.

Again, this really isn't that crazy. One of her moms DOES appear to be a diplomat, and this is the sort of thing diplomats do.

Lila: Yes, I suffer from tinnitus, a constant ringing in my left ear. I've had it ever since the sound of an airplane engine burst my eardrum on the runaway when I was saving Jagged Stone's lost kitten.

The class has interacted with Jagged Stone several times, so it's not that weird that Lila might have as well. Heck, Marinette is his go-to designer for his album covers. And Jagged IS the type to be this careless with a kitten.

Lila: Now it is, yes. But he had a kitten until he found out he was allergic to it.

This happens to a lot of people.

Lila: I'm sorry I can't carry my own tray. It's almost impossible with this sprained wrist.

Spraining wrists is typical, and it can be hard to carry weight when this happens, especially at certain angles.

Lila: (drops napkin) Uh, ow! Once when I was in India, I witnessed someone getting their eye gouged out by the corner of a napkin. If I hadn't caught it, this napkin could've injured Max. I didn't have a choice. Ow!

This is the only lie I've seen Lila tell that isn't really feasible. No way that someone's eye got gouged out this way. That being said, it could still cause some damage if it hit the eye and the eye wasn't protected by an eyelid or glasses. Which Max's eyes are, but it makes sense that she wouldn't have had time to think about that in the half a second she had to react.

Lila: Adrien, we'll have to figure when you're gonna help me catch up on all the schoolwork I missed. I also heard you play piano, my uncle's the great pianist Chuch Boroughchuck. He wanted to teach me when I was little, but I had to stop playing because of arthritis. But when my wrist gets better, I'd love for you to give me some lessons.

I knew someone with childhood arthritis, and her having an uncle who's a great pianist isn't any more absurd than Marinette having a great-uncle who's a world-famous chef.

Lila: Oh, I'd love to test your video game, Max, but I promised Prince Ali we'd go on a charity cruise over the Seine on his yacht this afternoon. Sorry.

This just falls under the same category as Lila's earlier lies about knowing Prince Ali and helping to promote charitable causes with him. Which Rose also does, she just doesn't travel with him. Makes sense that Lila might though, since one of her moms is a diplomat.

I'm having trouble thinking of other lies Lila told of this sort of type after this, since she was able to tell the truth mostly, what with being a model for Gabriel.

So yeah. Most of these lies are very plausible, and are way less weird than the Miracuclass's general experiences. The absurd thing is that they're impressed, not that they buy it.

[whereserpentswalk]

I remember black skies in a million galaxies.

I remember a billion big bangs and a billion universes calling for them.

I remember creatures without names fighting for control of slices of spacetime. I remember looking out at a war fought with unknowable weapons. I remember things that cannot be described with words.

I remember a thousand gods singing at the moment the first second passed. I remember being a small angel, looking out at the golden precession. I remember feeling as if there would soon be something bigger beyond me.

I remember being a stone on a lonely earth. A dead earth. Rain freshly filling oceans for the first time. Mars still just as likely to be the first to see life.

I remember being a cell. I remember dividing. I remember what it felt like to be the first life. I remembered a million cells falling behind, as the first cell failed to divide, and the first being with two cells was born.

I remember tasting flesh for the first time. Remembered what it was for predation to form. Remembered that life would never be the same, when things had to develop ways to flee, new weapons, new armors, eyes and teeth and legs and fins.

I remember being Tiktaalik, of walking on land for the first time. I can remember how it was to feel the air on my face for the first time. To see the dry world, an unclaimed Eden, pure and untouched. I remember looking back at the chaos below the sea, I remember hoping this new place would be different.

I remember being such a small reptile. I remember laying two eggs. One child would be the ancestor to all birds, the other to all mammals. I did not know the lines split there. Their eyes were so beautiful.

I remember being a small creature, I remember the fur covering my back, the bits of dead flesh in my mouth. I remember dodging between the feet of dinosaurs, not knowing if one would devour me. I remember seeing the fire in the sky, and something land at the edge of the Yucatan. I remember seeing glass fill everyone’s lungs. I remember hiding underground, as the larger ones grew weak, and their eyes grew blind, and their feathers burnt to ashes.

I remember being an ape, I remember negotiating with another tribe of apes, as to which of us would climb down from the trees to see if we could make it on the ground, and which of us would stay home to try to live in a dwindling forest. I did not know the consequences.

I remember seeing the first spears being built. I remember the hope that they would help us hunt, we did not realize just how much they would help. I remember seeing the first time a predator that used to feast on us was killed by one of those spears, the saber tooth cat’s face bloodied by the work of primate hands. I remember the triumph we felt when the unkillable was killed, and we knew we had become the new apex predators.

I remember seeing the first human to have a religious experience. I remember how much her eyes were filled with both joy and pain. I remember how transcendent and beautiful it was for her to know the gods, but also how small she realized she was. Nobody understood. I tried to comfort her but none of us had the ability to understand.

I remember seeing the last mammoth in Europe die. Seeing him all alone, and throwing such perfectly crafted spears at his body, and seeing the red of the blood dripping down his fur. Our grandfathers had done such hunts every day, but now we did such things perhaps once in our lives. And then never again. His meat tasted so good. And nobody would ever taste it again.

I remember seeing writing for the first time. It was something the priestesses did, that seemed so inhuman and mysterious. It had developed out of the symbols carved upon the bones the oracles used. Something that conveyed information by what seemed like magic. I remember hearing a priestess read something written by a dead woman, and it seemed as if she was talking to a ghost. I remember not knowing how to feel. I hoped it would stop soon, I was wrong to hope for such a thing.

I remember the first democracy, the men of Athens so proud that they had destroyed such a great tyranny, and that now they would all be free and equal. I remember them saying that history would remember them forever for making the world free. I remember watching them go home, to wives and daughters confined to their estates, and to slaves who labored for them day and night.

I remember being a soldier of Rome. I remember enforcing the laws of a new emperor and a new faith, destroying old temples and defacing great works of art. I remember forcing conversions, and slaying those who could not be converted. My sword tasted the blood of the Pagan, the Jews, the Gnostic and the Arian. I remember burning a young woman and the stake, and thinking I had done the greatest thing in the world. I remember thinking it would brig be heaven.

I remember seeing Venice at its height. I remember seeing the glistening waters, and the twisting architecture. I remember singing and dancing, and curling up on a summers day with a small cat in my arms. I remember thinking that for all it’s pain and suffering that the world was beautiful. I remember having a friend tell me that some fool had sailed across the Atlantic and found a new landmass. I remember thinking it was nothing, or hoping it was nothing, if only it could have been nothing.

I remember dying in a trench somewhere between France and Germany. I remember how it felt. Dreams of a thousand desires, and a thousand futures, all pouring out as my moist blood stained my uniform. I remember a fellow soldier holding me, and telling me he loved me, and kissing my steel helmet. I didn’t know what to say, as if there was still air in my lungs.

I remember seeing a computer for the first time. The bright IBM logo shining like silver in a darkened room. I remember thinking that such a machine could unite humanity, that it could make us better, that it could make us wiser. I still can’t know yet if I was wrong.

I remember a thousand past lives, and thousands more that could have been, that may never be. I remember dying countless times. I remember hearing countless songs. I remember petting countless cats. I remember seeing countless people smile. I remember seeing countless people bleed. I remember so many moments of kindness, and so many of cruelty. And if I have lived a thousand upon a thousand times, then I am still waiting to live a billion upon a billion times more.

[tkffyrpntsndjckt]

for those wondering where my ao3 disappeared to:

i wanted to say that i’m very sorry that my ao3 disappeared with no warning. i know that a lot of people liked to re-read my stuff, and a ton of people were following along with the fubbverse and wanted to see the ending. i have had a HECTIC last few weeks and haven’t had a chance to say anything yet.

i’ve decided to move forward from ao3. this is a decision that i’ve been thinking on for a very long time. this isn’t an impulsive decision, and it is not for any reason other than my own growth.

ive been writing since i was a little girl. i’ve never written at the velocity or the speed that i wrote for ao3. the fact that people wanted to read my stuff, commented on it so much (two top most commented on fics in multiple tags!!) and the fact you were all supportive FUELED me.

i ended at 1.4 MILLION words on ao3. this was a lot of practice writing (meaning not all of it was good, but you all stuck with it anyways!) honestly it felt like i was training for the olympics. i could win gold medals in cringey slowburn now.

i have had such support and success with my writing and i’m so glad that you all loved it so much. it really did wonders for my confidence in myself as a writer. some of you followed along with fubb for multiple years. i loved writing for you, it was such a fun stress reliever for me. a freeing way to escape my stressful life as a student and worker.

when id originally made this choice to delete, i was planning on leaving my stories up for everyone to enjoy. but there has been some stuff going on that i had to deal with, and for my own safety, im not leaving them up. im really sorry if this upsets anyone. i know that a lot of you loved some of the worlds we built and i did too, but it’s unfortunately what has to be done.

but again, thank you so much for your support and love. this is not the last of me and i will keep on writing! instead of chapters in your inbox, though, hopefully you guys will see my name on the shelves instead.

PS: if you see me going by “Ellie”, that’s my name! you can call me either Ellie or Scout. hai!!!!

thank you so much, once again! love you all, kisses and hugs.

[mlqueen89]

Six Sentence Snippet Sunday!

is it that time again? it is! here you go! *sprinkles like confetti*

The lights were bright, the couch uncomfortable, and Aimee’s stomach churned as she tried to stop herself from fidgeting, squeezed between Glen and Lila on the interview set.  

Aimee hadn’t prepared for any interviews today—Isla had texted her, in all caps, to summon her to set, 911! Emergency Rewrites, she’d reasoned. Aimee had mad scrambled to drop Noah off at school early, throw on something that was acceptable for public outings (in this case, a comfortable sweater, jeans and her favourite worn suede boots) swiped on deodorant at a stop light and managed to dab on some makeup in the parking lot.  She looked appropriate for a meeting with Isla and a day spent locked in a room with a red-noted script. 

So, when a handler she didn’t recognize intercepted her on her way back from Isla’s trailer and hustled her toward the couch on the riser (too small for three people) in front of the interviewer in a pink blazer and hounds tooth skirt, Aimee’s heart stuttered. She'd protested, told them that they didn’t want her in front of a camera, but her words fell on deaf ears. Now, now she was here, trying her best not to hyperventilate or wriggle, her right thigh pressed against Lila’s leg and her left against Glen’s. She looked neither of them in the eye. 

This is going to be so great! I’m so happy you’re here, Aimee! Isla called from behind the interviewer between sips of her egregiously large iced coffee. The producers are going to be so so happy.

She shifted nervously as the interviewer, a polished woman in a chic blazer, smiled at her. “Aimee Wright, the brilliant mind behind Beneath the Surface, New York Times Bestseller, BookTok trendsetter. Now, a Netflix adaptation, it’s a pleasure to have you here.” 

“Thank you,” Aimee said, gripping her hands tightly in her lap, the sound of her own voice echoing in her ears. 

“And of course, we have Lila Marks and Glen Powell, who bring your characters, Ben and Ivy, to life on the big screen. How exciting is this for you, Aimee? Seeing your words turned into this cinematic masterpiece?” 

“It’s surreal,” Aimee admitted. “I never imagined this when I was writing the book. It’s been an incredible journey in a really short amount of time.” 

The interviewer nodded before glancing at her notes, her perfect smile never faltering. “Speaking of writing the book... there’s been some speculation online, Aimee.” 

Aimee’s stomach dropped. Speculation. The word had never been associated with anything good and she’d seen the articles and TikTok videos her friend Allie had been sending her since last week. Speculation in this instance was definitely not a good word. 

The interviewer’s smile turned sly as she glanced up at Aimee before her eyes passed to Glen, sitting at her side. “Rumors suggest that the character of Ben—the dashing, complicated love interest—was actually inspired by Glen himself. Care to tell us if there’s any truth to that?” 

From the corner of her eye, Aimee could see Lila’s head snap toward her with an exaggeratedly amused expression, clearly enjoying the moment. Without looking, Aimee could feel Glen sat up straighter. When she dared a glance at him, a brief, reflexive one, he was already looking at her, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

Aimee’s heart pounded, her stomach flopping oddly as she scrambled for an answer. “Oh, um, well,” she started, struggling to keep her voice even, “the book was written long before Glen was ever cast. Ben was inspired by... well, just the idea of hope and second chances. He’s not based on any one person.” 

Lila leaned forward, grinning. “So, that’s a no? Or a maybe?” 

Glen chuckled, leaning back casually. “I think what she's asking is: Was I subconsciously in your mind before we ever met?” 

Aimee shot him a look, her cheeks burning. “That’s not what she’s asking.” 

The interviewer, clearly delighted by the tension, pressed on. “I mean, I’ve read the book.  It’s pretty hard to ignore how perfectly Glen embodies the character, though. It’s almost as if the role was written for him.” 

Aimee took a deep breath, forcing herself to smile though she really wanted to vomit, wanted to go back in time and spend at least two more minutes in front of her closet, picking anything to wear except for this. “I believe that’s a testament to Glen’s incredible talent and the keen eye of the casting department. He really brought Ben to life in a way that’s even better than I could have imagined.” 

“Good save,” Glen teased under his breath, just loud enough for Aimee to hear. 

Lila laughed, throwing her arm over the back of the couch to pat Aimee on the shoulder. “Well, if the rumors are true, I think Glen should be flattered. Aimee writes a very attractive leading man.” 

If the floor opened right now and swallowed Aimee, she’d gladly accept it. She’d disappear into the expanse and never emerge. The last footage of her embarrassment would be forgotten next to her tragic demise; a coincidental sinkhole right beneath her feet. “The book is fiction,” she said firmly, her voice tinged with exasperation, the sound of the attorney on the last television show echoing in the back of her mind. “Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.” 

The interviewer grinned knowingly, clearly unconvinced but satisfied with the answer. “Well, whether or not there’s any truth to the rumors, one thing is certain: the chemistry between Ben and Ivy is electric. And it’s clear that your words, Aimee, set the foundation for that magic. Lila, how can you speak to—” 

Aimee managed a polite smile as the conversation shifted focus back to the movie and over to Lila, but she couldn’t help feeling Glen’s amused gaze on her for the rest of the interview. 

i can do it with a broken heart - glen powell x ofc

a/n: thank you hyperfixation gods. i won't waste this sudden power you have given my brain. i feel like he man with access to a computer and a word document.

tags for this wip: @readingislife @marrianena @dizzybee03 @lunatygerqueen @mrsevans90

** more tags in comments **

[oceanwithouthermoon]

ive come to realise that i dont actually hate kubokai, i just hate the way people write them

[intramoon]

Nes + Erin: partners in crime & platonic soulmates & always dressed coded (+ Erin all grown-up. ;-;)

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

for me, nothing hits quite like someone who's sick but like...still in a good mood? like either ignoring it or admitting they're not well but still pleasant to be around. like they sneeze and someone asks if they're ok and they just roll their eyes and say "yeah i just have a stupid fuckin cold" 🫠😳👁️👄👁️🤩

[naga-raja-suresh]

Suresh's nose had fixed itself, there had been nothing to stop it from going back to what it was supposed to look like so it straightened itself without any further interference. The Naga grinned, "I was keeping you prone. You kicked me in the face. Slightly different... -what do the children say these days- Vibes? But you're right. Even is even." It wasn't something to stay on. He could move past it for the time being. He listened to the laugh. Interested in the sound. He knew that Callum hadn't been telling the whole truth but Suresh was not about to wholesale believe the witch. Not now, not ever. He simply nodded, "That is what he told me." Because it had been. He leaned his head on the couch and listened to whatever semblance of the truth poured from Corvinus' lips. The relationships with the Lightless was contentious at best but they had found a common ground until the man sitting across from him had appeared. Suresh nodded his head. The way Corvinus told it was a bit different than how the Hellhound had painted the circumstances. And somewhere in the middle was what had actually had happened. Suesh nodded again and said, "Yes, I believe he called you a walking abomination." But that was between Loughty and his god. His need to right the scales. True believers had their place in all orders. Suresh's golden talons clicked against each other as he folded his hand over his chest. At the string of mostly rhetorical questions Suresh shrugged, "Why do any of us hide anything? Because we do not trust." The comment about nagas and Callum made Suresh's eyes narrow and he shook his head, "Naga's are natural. Old or not. Just because no one knows what our life expectancy actually is... we are natural." Well, they were natural. Whatever he'd done to augment himself... that was something else.

Suresh considered what Corvinus thought would be the things that he would reject outright. He wasn't going to give Corvinus a blank check. The Naga let out a soft amused noise when the witch said he didn't mind getting his own hands dirty. Of course. "If you are disliked that is entirely up to you." But whatever the witch chose to do he would do. A favor that he could reject was fine with Suresh.

He glanced down at his hands. Looking at his talons. Then back back up at Corvinus. "The talons are what bother you? Really? Alright then." He cracked his neck and drew in a breath and a soft shimmer on his hands, talons gone like they had never been. "Standing in the rubble looking across at each other... No. There is no rush. Though the next time I think neither of us will be holding back like we were..." A soft acknowledgement that what had happened between them was a mere skirmish. "Most people that know what I can do either crave it or are repulsed by it. I'm not fond of either reaction." Suresh reached his right hand out across the space between them, palm up, offering it to the witch. "You don't have to pretend." He held it there waiting, just to see what he would do.

An elemental witch... It didn't feel right. But wanted a face to the Nameless. Something with no face and no real intentions were difficult to guard against. And there was always the possibility that the leader could be trapped and then killed. However Suresh was not in a rush to gather all the important people in the city into one spot for the Nameless to possibly act against. "I will reach out along the channels I am able to use. And give you a location when appropriate. But why offer him up? You could have given him one of us couldn't you?" Suresh agreed that others feared power. It's why he hid so much of his. His eyes drifted over Corvinus' face as he spoke about being erased from living and written memory. "We've seen our share of Ozymandias' I think. But for us, it goes in cycles. We are the gods and we are the monsters. It just depends on the age and who writes the histories. But we are the myths and legends. Things that the others can only hope to aspire to."

He couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the mention of being slapped, as if they both hadn't taken their fair share of blows for the night. At least Corvinus had wrapped up his fairly quickly. Torture nonetheless but it had been fairly quick and not so...invasive. Or at least in his own eyes. "And you broke several of my bones. What's a little kick in the nose for that?" A nose could gush blood easily, that was true, but it allowed him a glimpse of the healing in Suresh as well. Not as quick, but effective either way. He did wonder if it would automatically set properly like his own body or if it would fuse into whatever position it was left in. But at the mention of Callum, oh, that earned a whole laugh. "A territory dispute? That's what he told you? Oh, he is quite the liar then. There was no territory dispute. Just because our countries aren't far from each other doesn't mean mean anything. I've never once claimed all of bloody Ireland and certainly not Scotland. I have an estate and property around it, that's all I ask others to not step into."

Clearly the man was trying to keep things under wraps, to hide his history from the others. Corvinus knew better, had come face to face with what the Lightless leader now tried to hide. It did make Corvinus all the more curious what else the renowned Hellhound was trying to keep hidden. What was one blood witch the others were aware of? Who else had he gone after. "I call him the cú sídhe. Hellhound, not too much of a thing to us Irish. I'd never even heard of him before but apparently he had a name amongst others. It just wasn't important enough to reach me so there couldn't have been any territory dispute to begin with. I was happily minding my own business at the time." Well, not exactly. He had been meddling around in political affairs at the time but that wasn't important. "He found me. He hunted me. All because my lifespan defies 'natural order' as he put it and I had blood on my hands. That's what he did. He sought out those that were alive for too long and snuffed them out, or if they committed any sort of egregious crime that justice had not been served. Judge, jury, executioner." Of course, Corvinus had learned all of that after the fact, when he had become aware of Callum and had temporarily been on his radar. Corvinus had simply gotten bored of tracking him across Europe and a few other continents.

Though a thought did occur to him. "It makes you wonder, doesn't it? Why hide it? What else has he killed for sins or for simply living longer than others?" He was staring into space for a moment, as if considering, before his gaze returned to Suresh. "What do you think he would do if another very old naga had crossed his path? Perhaps that's why he hid it from you."

The scale was a reach, he knew that. Especially after he had just been caught with naga blood; it meant it would most certainly not be used for mere decoration and would simply go into spellwork. Likely against Suresh himself. But he took the rejection in stride, giving only a small shrug though certainly a face of disappointment at the potential to deny a favour. "Oh, don't worry. I won't ask you to kill anyone or anything like that. Or any pieces of you. I have no issue getting my own hands dirty. Think of it as more insurance down the road. Especially if I'm so disliked within this city and want to enjoy my time here." Hopefully enough of a reassurance that whatever the favour was shouldn't be too gruesome though Corvinus couldn't say for sure. He merely liked the idea of being owed.

How quick the other was to retreat. He rose an eyebrow, gaze drifting down the other's long form and eyes particularly on the talons. Those were his main concerns for the moment. "Put the claws away and I certainly wouldn't mind if you did. The thing with us ancient beings is...we don't have to rush to kill each other. I could wait another thousand years and still have every chance to come back and end you if I wanted. The mortals, their lives are so fleeting. If they don't kill now, they may not have another chance. There have been surprisingly few that have upset me enough to warrant me murdering them right away." Though those that did...well, he always went beyond simply attacking them and killing them. Even killing was a game. Wipe out the family, leave them for last, let them know they were being hunted and let them live in fear of it.

At least he was getting somewhere, one step closer into settling in officially as the leader of the Nameless. An order here and there didn't mean much while he was still pulling the strings from the shadows. There was clearly a dislike for the actions so far, but no real admiration for how far he could get just yet. That would come with the meeting. "An elemental, I believe. He didn't want to talk too much about his powers." But he would invite the others. Gather them all. There was a brief though it would be the perfect setting to destroy them at once but that was hardly any fun and would only descend into chaos so quickly. "Simply tell me where to be and I'll make sure he's there. You finally get the meeting he's been avoiding and thankfully I'm quite good at luring. As for being so disliked....people just don't appreciate power. They fear it instead. But it's better than damnatio memoriae." Something he'd ensured for his predecessors.

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[greenerteacups]

What do you think as Hermione's career would be post battle of Hogwarts? To me her being minister for magic really doesn't make sense. She does not have patience or tact to wade through murky waters of politics 😭😭

So hard to say! The Trio are so, so young when we leave them, I find it almost impossible to project their futures farther than a few years out. The job that suited me at 17 would be radically unsuited to me now. That's why of all the Trio, Ron's ending strikes me as the most realistic — he jumps straight into the save-the-world business again, burns out, realizes he's actually Done The Fuck Enough, Thanks, and pivots into a low-stress career where he gets to see his family a lot. Feels accurate! The others are weirder to me because they do seem to just... pick a lane and stay there.

With Hermione, you could spin her a couple ways. You could say that she leans into her bookish side and does research or teaching, which is not my preference for a couple reasons (namely, I don't think Hermione would like academia as a profession; she finds her classwork interesting and enjoys intellectual validation, but she'd be stifled and wasted in a DPhil program, and she'd be infuriated by the administrative politicking of your average higher-ed faculty). You could say that she gets disaffected with politics and ends up as a barrister or a lobbyist of some kind, but if anything that requires more political finesse, because you don't actually have institutional power, you're just handling the people who make decisions and trying to persuade them of your goals. This is not Hermione's preferred method of influence. She's not even particularly good at persuasion, she just happens to be smart enough (and right often enough) that people take her ideas seriously.

Or you could say her brashness fades with the years into a softened flavor of tell-you-like-it-is honesty, which some politicians actually do successfully trade on; as we see in British politics today, you don't have to be all that charming or clever to get ahead, you just need to be really driven and well-connected (which Hermione completely is; she fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the first postwar Minister and her bestie, the Literal Messiah, runs the Auror Office.) But I don't know if Hermione especially wants to be Minister, after the war. She's just watched years of horrendous bureaucratic incompetence plunge the country into a violent civil conflict. She's had not one, but two Ministers of Magic try to bully or shame her friends into complicity with fascism. Her view of government is... likely extremely dark.

But Hermione also isn't the kind of person who sees her life as a quest for happiness. Babygirl has a savior complex that makes Harry look selfish. (She basically kills her parents — yeah, obliviating is a form of murder, #changemymind — "for their own good," and justifies every batshit, vindictive, mean-spirited move she ever pulls on the grounds that it "helps" one of her friends.) She is a mean, lean, dragon-slaying machine, and she needs a dragon. After Voldemort, the Ministry is the no. 1 threat to muggle-borns and non-wizarding Beings. As a war heroine with basically infinite political capital, I'd be surprised if she didn't try to do something there. That said, Hermione is so vivacious and dynamic that she could potentially grow in a hundred different directions; it's possible that all of this, while true of her at 18, becomes completely inaccurate by 22. That's why I'm not too fussed about any particular fanon interpretation.

[theflyingfeeling]

...😭