#one of the most beautiful plays i ever seen

[thelov3lybookworm]

Reputation to uphold

Day 5: No need for poetry.

Summary: Hiding the letters is his first priorities.

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Word Count: 1368

Warnings: fluff, azzie being a shy baby 🥹

A/n: i loved writing this hehehe (i wrote most of this in 40 mins 💀)

@azrielappreciationweek

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

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"I missed this, mama." Hazel sighed, pulling away her cup of hot chocolate. Azriel smiled, looking over at his daughter, sitting next to his now son in law, Kaden.

What did I say? He was going to take away my daughter.

Y/n raised her brows. "It’s barely been a week since you’ve last had it."

Hazel grimaced. "Yeah, and his hot chocolate does not compare."

"Hey that’s mean!" Kaden sputtered, choking on his own drink.

"Yeah, stop being mean to my son."

Hazel rolled her eyes, turning to her father.

"Dad, come on, tell me a story." She had always been fond of listening to stories, and Az, wanting to make his daughter happy, had begun the new habit of telling stories every night.

Azriel glanced at his wife as she settled in next to him, warmth spreading in his chest. No matter how long they’d been married for, even just the sight of Y/n filled Azriel with happiness. Just as it had back when he had first seen her in the market, giggling with her friends over something.

"What do you want to hear about?"

Hazel leaned back, contemplating before perking up. "How you met mom and got married."

Azriel’s cheeks warmed, and he prayed his wife did not notice.

"Look dad, you’ve always said I was too young to know, but now I am even married. I want to know."

Azriel sighed, looking to his wife for help.

"Yeah Az, I wanna know the story too." Y/n grinned, not meeting his eyes.

Knowing he would not be allowed to leave without reliving his most embarrassing moments, he got comfortable in his chair.

"I saw her in the market one day. She was with her friends, and I instantly knew I was going to marry her one day."

She had been so ethereal, and she was in just a simple flowy dress. Her hair had been pinned out of her face, the breeze softly playing with the strands the way Azriel wished he could. Her smile, it could have brought him to his knees. And her sparkling eyes spoke of kindness far more louder than actions, the love and compassion for her fellow fae shining through every blink.

"Did you ever write her love letters and poetry?"

Azriel scoffed, focusing on the dark dregs at the bottom of his cup. "Me? I don’t have to resort to poetry."

Azriel felt his wife’s gaze on him, and he could picture her perfectly, sitting there, eyebrows raised in a are you sure about that? gesture.

"Yeah, he just ended up drowning in the river trying to impress me."

Azriel turned to glare at Y/n accusingly, who simply shrugged. "Now Az, lying is bad. Someone has to tell the truth."

Azriel grumbled, then again began. This time, truthfully. "Feyre needed some paint supplies from the market, and because I was free, I offered to get them for her."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel never thought he would ever ask someone for a romantic day out. After all, he never had to do that. He would just give females a glance and they would ask him to spend time with them themselves.

But this time, it was not happening. The female in the market square barely spared him a glance when he sidled up to her, pretending to look at all the brightly coloured pots on display at the stand she was giggling with her friends over.

"Y/n, that pot would look so good with your couch!"

Y/n. That name would certainly look good with Azriel’s name next to it.

"Yes Cindy, I’m going to cook on my couch."

Azriel smiled down at the pot in his hands, biting his cheek.

"It certainly is beautiful though." He mumbled, voice low so only Y/n could hear as her two other friends started bickering. He felt her stiffen before she glanced at him.

"That it is. But I don’t think I’m in need of more things."

Azriel swallowed, nodding. "You live near?"

Finally, he gathered the courage to meet her narrowed eyes. "Why do you ask?"

He smiled with a confidence he did not feel. "Where will I pick you up from for our dinner tomorrow then if you don’t tell me?"

She reared back as if his words had a physical impact on him.

"I- I’m sorry, I’m not interested."

Azriel blinked. But before he could say anything, she had grabbed her friends’ hands and dragged them away.

But from the slight blush on her face, he knew that he only needed to try and she would agree.

He bought the pot she had been eyeing so longingly just moments before, then hurried to go get the paints Feyre had asked for.

He was so sure he wouldn’t have to resort to poetry.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The next day, Azriel was back at the market square, trying to figure out which direction she had gone. He had probably been wandering around aimlessly when he spotted the beautiful head of the lady he was so enthralled by.

"Hey. Pleasant day." He said as he fell in step beside the unsuspecting female.

She jumped, wide, frantic eyes meeting his own. Exasperation spread through her features as she realised it was him.

"You- what are you doing here?"

He shrugged, grinning as he held his gloved hand out. "I’m Azriel."

Her brows furrowed. She probably thought Azriel was loose in the head. "Y/n."

"Beautiful name for a beautiful lady."

She sighed. "Look, I’ve already told you I’m not interested."

"Why not?"

She paused. "I don’t like males who think they’re entitled to my time."

He nodded sagely. "Me neither. I hate people like that. But look at this like this, I want to get to know you. Maybe this could be something-"

She sighed. "No. Sorry."

Azriel’s palms turned sweaty. He had found her again, he did not want to let her go without getting something out of this. Even one evening of talking was enough. "I- I am the high lord’s shadowsinger."

Her gaze hardened. "Are you threatening me?"

His eyes widened. "No! I could never! I’m just trying…"

"Trying what?"

"To make you interested in me. It has worked before."

She rolled her eyes. "I don’t like males who try to entice me by stating their high powers."

Panic seized Azriel. This was going very wrong very quickly, and he did not like it one bit.

"I did not mean it that way-"

"Really, sir, I do not care what you meant and what you didn’t. Just leave me alone."

Azriel was left gaping after her, breathing heavy.

Fuck.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel balled up another paper, throwing it behind him before clutching his head.

He had decided that being arrogant and trying to keep up his records of never having to resort to poetry would not help him.

Your eyes like the sun,Shining so beautiful,Your hair like waterfall,You-

Was Azriel truly so bad at poetry?

He was doomed.

She wouldn’t give him the time of day, evident by her refusal to even acknowledge him the three times he had tried to interact with her after that day at the market, and he was losing hope. He had sent countless letters and poems already to her house through his shadows, and he still had received no response.

Maybe he was well and truly doomed.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"You know, I still have all those letters and poems."

Azriel’s head whipped to look at his wife, eyes wide. "Why?"

She shrugged, getting up from the couch and taking the cup from Hazel and kaden, both who grinned unabashedly.

"You think I would burn or throw away letters of desperation sent by the spymaster?" Y/n snorted. "Let me get them for you, children."

"No!" Azriel semi-yelled, shooting to his feet before dashing into their bedroom, hoping to stop her before she even tried to reveal all his secrets.

Loud laughter followed the frantic spymaster, but he did not care. All he cared about was finding those letters and burning them, or maybe atleast hiding them away so his wife couldn’t tease him about it.

He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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@okaytrashpanda

[newtkelly]

Not to word vomit on you but I can't stop thinking about Oliver wanting a love story like Tarlos and how it all accidentally lined up.

Knowing that Carlos and TK were about to move in, and then Carlos made that romantic gesture and TK got scared because it was, "too good to be true."

Carlos is left, confused, puzzled and nursing a broken-heart but still just as in love. What do you mean that TK and Carlos saw a future together, one got scared at that prospect and left before Carlos was the one to leave??

What do you mean that happened after Oliver said he wanted Bucktommy to have a love story like Tarlos; where it was always going to be them?

Then you consider Oliver saying that we might see Tommy and Buck interact during a call and it'll be awkward and who can't help but think of TK and Carlos running into the furniture store and seeing each other for the first time in weeks.

Anyways, sorry to be delusional in your ask box. I'm deep within the Tarlos trenches so this is all starting to look eerily familiar lmao (it could also be Tim is out of ideas, which is most likely the case)

Please feel free to word vomit on me always, I live for it.

Receiving this ask has actually prompted me to share some thoughts that I’ve held back from sharing, just because I wasn’t sure if it was worth it to throw more speculation into the void. But this message is so lovely, and I agree with it so much and so… okay I will share some of my mixed bag of thoughts about this whole situation.

Firstly, I adore Tarlos and LS (even if I don’t post about either much), TK is my baby, and the interesting thing about them for me is that I wound up caring for them more AFTER they broke up and got back together. If Buck and Tommy’s story is formatted as a rom-com, TK and Carlos are a tragicomedy. TK, the heartbroken recovering addict thrust into an entirely new city, a new career, who doesn’t want to let himself get too close to something good because he is misery incarnate. Carlos, the hopeful hopeless romantic who sees TK and doesn’t see something that needs fixing, but someone who his love could help heal. It’s such a gorgeous story, and the symmetry of both characters shockingly losing a parent in a tragic way is painfully beautiful. I LOVE their love story.

That brings me to Oliver and Tim’s comments. Throughout the Buck and Tommy relationship, my belief that this would be Buck’s final relationship only ever wavered twice. The first time was in the immediate aftermath of their first date (I spent the whole episode thinking that Tommy was actually reintroduced to kick off the bi awakening plotline and Buck was not acquiring a boyfriend) and the second time was towards the tail end of the summer hiatus when I legitimately began to doubt Lou would want to come back given everything that transpired. Other than that, I had full faith that this was it, this was Buck getting off the “hamster wheel”—Tim’s words, not mine.

I had confidence for a few reasons. 1 – the story was always handled with care onscreen and gave us no reason to think they weren’t going to work out. 2 – the chemistry was insane, and I knew it couldn’t just be me because an entire fandom was born. Tim and tptb must have seen what we saw. 3 – the supplementary information funneled to us through articles and Tim’s social media, literally up until post-8x06 never seemed to indicate that their relationship was headed in this direction. A big part of that was the comparison to Tarlos.

In order to protect myself (should I name the list of shows, movies, couples that I’ve fixated on that wound up playing out in dissatisfying ways?), I am awfully pessimistic. The post-episode interviews, articles, + hearing a bit from LFJ and OS has me wondering if this was some mass hallucination. Did we truly cling to something good and blow it up, run with it? Was this always the plan? I’ve wondered if because S7 was so short and S8 required that other characters get the spotlight first/other stories needed to be told and wrapped, and if because of production and scheduling and whatever external reasons, did their relationship wind up having a longer life than was ever intended. Were they ever supposed to make it to six months? Were they ever supposed to make it past the fucking wedding? I have been asking myself this stuff a lot. Alternatively, did something happen that made them want to or have to part ways with LFJ? So many questions, and I’m not sure we’ll ever know.

But… then there’s the delusional side of me, and the reason I haven’t totally abandoned hope is because when I was watching 8x06 live, EVERYTHING in me told me that this is a necessary section of the rom-com formula. Even the call-backs throughout the episode made me feel like the writers are so painfully aware, and that the narrative wants these characters to be together (Miceli’s, Abby, basketball, going to the movies, calling an uber, the loft kitchen, “you’re not ready”)—the motifs were absolutely popping off. I did not think it was the end when the episode ended. I wondered when and how they would find their way back to each other to fulfill the rom-com genre, but what I did NOT expect was to open social media and see articles framing this as the end. I wasn’t surprised when I found out who wrote the articles, and listen—if they bait one side of the fandom, can’t they bait the other? I still have some hope, because at the end of the day, anything can happen with network television. Maybe this is all part of the plan, and the interviews should be taken with a grain of salt. I just don’t know.

Interviews with Tim and Oliver from day one positioned the Buck and Tommy relationship as a queer love story devoid of trauma. Okay, well… huh. From where I was sitting, there was A TON of explicitly queer trauma exposed in 8x06. Their “hurdle” is tied utterly and completely to queerness. Tommy runs because he is a gay man who doesn’t trust that his bisexual boyfriend should “settle” for him, and who would rather be alone than heartbroken, and if that truly is the last of Tommy, it has to be one of the coldest and cruelest exits we’ve ever seen on this show. Do they simply not realize how deeply traumatized both characters come off in that episode, or is it all part of the plan? If the interviews positioning this as the permanent end of bucktommy should be taken at face value, shouldn’t the other interviews that position them as a rom-com (with the formulaic third act breakup, boils and all) be taken as the truth as well? If there was some misinterpretation, why hasn’t Tim said anything—he clearly knows a lot of fans were hurt by what they watched. He must have seen the outrage—why radio silence? Did we truly blow this out of proportion? Are the wheels coming off behind the scenes? I need a tell-all at this point lol

Thank you for the lovely ask, I’ve been sitting with these thoughts all week so this was a good excuse to finally articulate them. <3

[aspergerasparagus]

What if... Lucky Contestant and/or Real Frankie angst? 👀

<Incorrect-Finding-Frankie

You asked for this. Bad Ending unlocked. Also on Ao3

They were on the 65th season when things finally came to an end. The chat was slowly starting to lose interest in their winner. They needed someone new and Lucky had seen the writing on the wall before the new season had even started. So in hindsight it was no surprise that he had come out of the gate swinging. Literally. 

Of course Frankie had been the first to face him. He'd been getting used to playing with them first before trying to catch them so he'd let his guard down. It was only when Lucky drove the knife he'd concealed into his eye did he finally realise what was happening. Of course the fight had still been a brutal affair. Lucky being tossed around like a rag doll as the rabbit screeched in pain, lashing out blindly in search of his target. Both were bloodied by the end but living up to his name, Lucky had managed to strike the final blow by tripping the beast and sending them careening into a saw blade trap. Bloodied and beaten he continued on, clutching his broken ribs as he breath came out in short ragged bursts.

He'd ignored the Frankie on the tvs for the most part. It's not like they could do anything but to throw curses and insults his way. But even that Frankie fell silent after Lucky had made his way to the server room. Leaving only one “Frankie” left to deal with.

And so here they were, finally at the end and it was everything the rabbit had wanted and more. Frankie lay pinned under a piece of parkour equipment Lucky had managed to dislodge during their confrontation. His legs pinned down meaning he had been easy pray for when Lucky had plunged the metal pipe into his chest. Pity he didn't have the strength to hit a little deeper, seeing at the rabbit was now slowly “bleeding” out rather than the quick end his contestant had hoped for.

“You're beautiful you know that.”

“Shut up. I've heard enough from you…” Lucky was leaning against the broken screen, the chat still visible behind the cracks. He was caked in blood, sweat and oil, his breath laboured as he tried to keep himself standing. It was impressive he was still upright given the damage Frankie had done to him, the rabbit was pretty sure he'd broken their arm in the scuffle, along with their collar bone. He must be in annoy and yet he still refused to back down. Frankie could only grin wider. He was perfect!

“It's true tho. After all you've been through, all we've been through, here you finally are. My “Lucky” contestant, my money maker, my lover, my everything.” Frankie could stop the purr that escaped him as Lucky glowered at him, disgust clear on his face for the first time in a long time, haven finally discarded the mask Frankie had become accustomed to.

“Look at me more like that, my little rabbit. You know what you do to me when I get to see you angry~” Lucky went to spit out an insult, only to hiss in pain as he clutched his side the exertion of such an act too much for him right now.

“Go to hell you bastard…”

Frankie just chuckled as he watched Lucky force himself to pick up a jagged piece of scrap and begin to stumble his way over to the rabbit. He wasn't going to let the rabbit just bleed out, that was too kind of a death, no where near befitting of their relationship. He wanted it to be close and personal. A suddenly shiver went down Frankie's spine as he realised this was it. This was his end. He was going to die. When he first realised that the higher ups were going to terminate him he'd felt real fear for the first time. Terrified of the ceaseless void of nothingness that was going to take him. But now, here, facing his end, he couldn't feel anything other than absolutely ecstasy! This was beyond anything he had ever felt before and he was intoxicated.

Grinning wider he held his hand out to the man as he shuffled towards him, as he had when they had first made that deal all those years ago. A wonderful memory he had come to cherish. Sighing the man reluctantly took it as he shifted his weight to it as he continued on, it's not like Frankie could do anything now. He'd lost. Lucky had won. As he always did.

Finally reaching him the man took a moment to catch his breath, the rabbit studying him, memorising each and every detail of him in this moment.

“I wasn't lying when I said you were beautiful. Right now you are stunning, Lucky.”

“I know and that's why I wish you'd stop talking for once.” Frankie just snorted as he gently rubbed the back of their hand, soothing them for what they had to do next.

“I wonder if a small part of you will miss me? I'll miss you.”

“I… Maybe a sick part of me will miss you. But it'll fade. I'm not letting you control my life anymore. I'm getting out of here and taking what is rightfully mine.” Lucky held the rabbit's gaze as through his confession, even at this stage refusing to hide his true feelings. Truly a stunning man~

Frankie just smiled and nodded before directing the man's attention towards a spot on his head.

“My main CPU is stored here. A hard enough strike there will shut me down permanently. So try and not mess it up, it would be embarrassing to miss with such an audience watching us.” Lucky could only roll his eyes before offering a small smirk, unable to resist Frankie's charm one last time. Helping him up onto his chest, he watched as Lucky steadied himself before he raised the metal above his head ready to deal the finishing blow. To end this all. For both of them.

“Do you remember my promise? The one I made to you on our first date?” Lucky hesitated, the scrap still raised.

“Yes, as if I'd forget that. But it doesn't matter now Frankie. You've lost.”

“I know but I still intended to keep my promise my sweet little rabbit.”

Lucky didn't have a chance to react as Frankie wrapped his arms around them and contracted the springs in his arms. 

The sound of the pipe impaling them was a mix of the sickening cracking of bone and squelching of meat. His poor little contestant didn't stand a chance. He heard them cry out, gasping in pain as they tried desperately to expand their chest, but the blood quickly filling their chest charity and lungs made it impossible. (Not to mention the pipe.)

“Shhhh it's okay Lucky. I'm here. Frankie’s got you.” His tone was so soft, like a mother with their child as he cradled their shaking form closer. Coming up to pet their hair he could hear them gargling, before they hacked, blood spluttering out, covering them both. Now this was the ending they deserved. It was perfect. The triumph of the hero over the villain, only for the twist and betrayal at the end. This story was already written the moment Lucky had agreed to stay. There was no happy endings here for them.

Holding him Frankie could only let out a purr, this was practically orgasmic. The feeling of Lucky dying in his arms, by his hand, was even more perfect than he could imagine. He'd have to make sure the techs didn't erase his memory when they repaired him. He needed to remember this moment for all eternity, just so he could have it on a constant repeat in his head. This is how he wanted to remember his Lucky. Hearing them gag he snapped back, offering a small apology he nuzzled this head before leaning down to place a soft “kiss” against their forehead. 

“B-bastard… t-this was always the plan wasn't… it.” Even with his injuries he still had the ability to talk. How impressive~

“It was. You were never going to leave this place alive Lucky. And I think you knew this.” Lucky could only give a weak nod, tears slowly starting to drip down his cheeks, leaving streaks in the blood caking them.

“I… did. I…just had t-try still… Frankie i-it hurts…” Hushing him, the rabbit cuddled him close, burying his face against his hair.

“I know, just close your eyes Lucky. Just give in. It'll be over soon. I promise I won't leave you here like the others, I'll put you somewhere special. So we can be together forever~”

Lucky could only let out a weak sob, but just as Frankie had said soon he closed his eyes. His breaths becoming shallower and shallower until nothing. His body lay limply against the rabbit as they soon succumbed to their own injuries. The only sound left was the hum of the facility and the sound of multiple footsteps approaching them.

[meo-eiru]

MERU😭😭😭 i finally had a free moment to relax and the first thing i wanted to do was play hold your tongues and i've spent the last few hours pouring over how absolutely beautiful of a piece it is in storytelling and visuals. i genuinely have so much to gush over and idk where i should be doing it so into your inbox it goes. i apologise in advance, you also don't have to respond to this bc 1) i am aware it's gonna get vv long and 2) spoilers will definitely be mentioned

i hope sel knows what an absolute gem of a writer she is for executing all of this bc i am fucking gobsmacked by how well certain ideas and concepts were interwoven throughout the entire piece. maybe a lot of the things following are just my interpretations, but that's another thing i really really love — there's enough ambiguity in the prose to be able to infer it in so many different ways

first to the namesake of the game, ‘hold your tongues’ and the many connotations of tongues that are explored throughout; as symbols of liberation and entrapment that intermingle so so well. i feel like the game really delves into the struggles that women face in society, in relationships, just in general and i like how since it's done so through maelyn's own perspective, we're privy to a more complex and raw display of how deeply emotionally scarring it can be.

eric is a little bitch imo (i won't retract that statement ever) but the ever judgmental, taunting and superior tone he has as the ‘voice’ in maelyn's head speaks volumes of the character he possessed and the lasting impact it had on her. giving her dress to another man makes her ‘unfaithful’, the fact that it's emphasised that these are only ‘remains’ of a dress too — bc eric left her with shreds, physically, mentally. 

if we take the dress to act as a metaphor for maelyn herself, he left her in shreds.

in response to this, maelyn bites her tongue, so hard that it bleeds. it's restraint, quite literally biting back your anger and the feeling of being wronged. grounding yourself again to the harsh reality of it all, and it brings her back to the present moment when starling points it out.

we see a similar occurrence later on when maelyn relays her tongue ‘longing for a taste, was to be kept down.' so again, she stops herself (and i think the wording here is particularly interesting, that it was to be kept, so intrinsically this too may also link to how women are commonly taught to be submissive and forced to fit to certain standards). 

in both contexts, the act of biting the tongue can be taken as a suppression of some sort of desire — the first is the desire to be mad, and the second is the desire of lust. both which women have been criticised for through the ages.

i also like to think that the tongue is a representation of freedom. starling is very much making wings to fly out of them, and taking them away from ppl has ‘forever deprived of their ability to lie’ (in which case lying = freedom, i won't expand on this too much bc it'll be another whole essay😭) so going back to maelyn, her biting hers can also be seen as her freedom being hurt, prevented.

another thing is, the line just before ‘he never ran out of tongues’, we can take this as starling never having his freedom threatened. and it poses further questions. is this because of his strength? is it because he has the ocean ‘wholly’? is it because he's a ‘man’?

on my first run through, one of the most prominent questions i came away w/ was what was it that attracted maelyn to starling? to the concept of these monsters of the sea that had surpassed human constraints that had her waiting out all those hours to catch a glimpse of one to begin with. what was it that kept her coming back? time and time again, day after day when she could've not gone back to that shore after leaving.

the text narrates a couple of things that i think contributed, there's a sense of warring humanity and animosity in the repetitive motifs of dirt and uncleanliness, in her noting that starling looked ‘half a man’ and that one half could've ‘consumed’ the other. maelyn has an envy that's touched upon frequently. does maelyn want to be closer to a monster so that no one can hurt her? or does she feel like a monster is all she can be now?

then there's a dynamic with power that was honestly done so well. again, my praise to sel for how well thought out it all was. that part where she put her hand into his guts and he made sounds he was ‘unable to control’, another when she tells him ‘cut’ and he does so without question — she recognises she holds the reins in that moment, acknowledges, ‘in control, I breathed.’ 

starling listens to her for the most part, it's a reoccuring theme. even when making his wings, he's following her instructions although it's made clear that he learns quick and is capable. perhaps this gives her comfortability.

but we see this turn on its head when things start to go left, starling begins to do as he pleases and maelyn is taken back into her trauma, back to feeling ‘disgusting’ and ‘unclean’, she even apologises and promises to do better.

leashes are mentioned a few times, maelyn first describes them as a sort of ‘necklace’ — perhaps this is tribute to the way a woman's submission is often beautified and normalised. the ‘leash’ starling puts on her in one of the ends is made of pearls, he keeps it in his mouth before this. could this be a reference to eric's sweet words that bound maelyn before he revealed himself? starling ties it somewhat loosely ‘so she could breathe’ yet that doesn't take away the fact that it's still there. it has a sort of your cage is not small, but that doesn't mean you're not locked in it kinda feel.

there's so much more i could say but i think ive alr said too much😭 i didnt even get to touch on the cuddle ending which was my favourite, or the symbolism of losing fingers, the significance of the numbers two, three and four to the story. I DIDN'T EVEN TALK MUCH ABT THE ART😭😭 MERU SORRY I GOT DISTRACTED BUT THE ART WAS PHENOMENAL❗️❗️❗️❗️

maelyn is super pretty and i love how her and starling contrast each other in design so nicely. starling's expressions were stellar ++ the bgs and cgs were beautiful (you're right, if you didn't clarify it i would think you were behind the chest one haha). also the body horror aspect was really brought to life with the visuals and ik it definitely mustn't have been easy drawing all those organs, thank you for your service meruuuu

i'll shut up here before i write another 3k, but both you and sel did such a great job w/ this. the two of you deserve a nice break to rest so pls make sure to take things easy and take care of yourselves!! drink water and sleep when you can, and know that you've made a masterpiece♥️

OH MY GOD THIS ASK IS MAKING ME GO FERAL

It's so well written??? You did such a good job picking up the details hidden behind their lines??? I fish you continued writing because I for sure did not want to finish it and please do send the other thoughts you had if you can, I love this so much

I'm sure @celerifleuri will too so I'll tag her

You already mentioned the spoilers at the start but I'll also note it down here for people who haven't played the game yet. I'm sure sel will do a much better job answering your story analyses but I'll also say you're completely right with most things you've said.

The story takes place in 1800s with dated gender roles we unfortunately can still relate to. Maelyn is a curious woman who wants to study and experiment, but is being held back by society and even people who she thought she could trust, but again Sel will do a better job explaining those.

I'll talk about the art a bit. One thing I really enjoyed that was kinda unintentional on my part was the use of night and day.

The story starts at night time, the first ever cg we get of Maelyn is her jumping down the cliff, with the moon's reflection on her left and the waves giving an illusion of wings as she looks up, in that very moment she is free.

On the other hand the first ever cg of Starling is day time. The sun is shining brightly from his left, almost blindingly, as he looks down. His hair covering the screen like spider webs.

To contrast these, it's night time in the wood ending. Just like the first cg of Maelyn, we can see the soft moonight shining upon them but not quite reaching Starling's face. Maelyn is alive.

Meanwhile in the bone ending, even though they are underwater we can tell it's day time, just like the first Starling cg. We get to see a glimpse of them through the seaweeds covering our view, the sunlight showering them gently. Starling is alive.

For the character designs too, a bit of a reverse but I'd say Maelyn resembles the sun, meanwhile Starling is like the moon.

They both share green eyes, although quite different shades. Maelyn has bright red hair that contrasts Starling's red tongue tail.

I also like that Maelyn's hair, albeit a bit loosely, is braided and kept tidy. Meanwhile Starling's hair is usually all over the place and quite messy.

[girlwtdragontattoo]

Yandere Bard x Reader - Primal

I finally got a chance to finish this lol enjoy some smut

Summary: your childhood, musical friend Elphael is madly in love with you, fantasizing about you in secret and planning to make you his. Finally, you've seen reason and accept his love.

Warning: 18+, explicit language, explicit scenes, penetration, obsessive, toxic behavior, dub-con

Read the previous parts here:

1, 2, 3, 4

-----

Elphael's eyes roamed over your exposed skin, drinking in every curve and dip. His hands trembled as they hovered just above your chest, as if he was afraid to touch you and shatter the dream.

"You're perfect," he breathed, voice thick with awe and desire. "Even more beautiful than I imagined."

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you once more. He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your collarbone, nipping and sucking as he went. His tongue swirled down your nape, the scent of his saliva made your whole body tense up. His hands finally made contact with your skin, palms sliding up your sides to cup your breasts.

You arched into his touch with a gasp, head falling back against the pillow. Elphael took the opportunity to lavish attention on your throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there as his thumbs played with your nipples. He drifted down, the warm breath pulsing against your anticipating skin.

His tongue swirled around your nipple before taking it into his mouth, sucking gently. You arched into him more with a gasp, fingers tangling in his silver hair. The sensation sent sparks of pleasure through your body.

Elphael's free hand trailed down your stomach, coming to rest at the waistband of your pants. He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire.

He was waiting for further confirmation, terrified that any wrong movement would make you disappear, that this was still a dream and he would wake up from it in a desperation. Your gazes met each other and you saw the famished eyes pierce into you. No one had ever wanted you like this before.

You gave a quick smile and nodded for him to continue.

That was all he needed, to fully let loose.

With a jolt, Elphael ripped your pants open.

His eyes blazed with lust as he gazed upon your newly exposed skin. This was a sight he had yearned for, for centuries. In his pent up agony, you noticed him tremble with anticipation. You were even more beautiful than he imagined.

"Mine," he growled, voice low and possessive. "All mine."

Before you could react, his mouth was on you, hot and insistent. His tongue laved over your most sensitive areas, drawing a startled gasp from your lips. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that exquisite sensation.

Elphael's strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you. Years of pent-up desire fueled his actions, making him almost frantic in his need to taste every inch of you. The taste of you, your intoxicting zest filled his mouth as he sucked. His skilled tongue found your most sensitive spots, circling and flicking in a maddening rhythm.

You writhed under him, while you let out noises you had never heard yourself make before.

Elphael's tongue worked feverishly, lapping at your folds with desperate hunger. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he held you open, savoring every taste and texture.

You arched off the bed, gasping and trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Your hands tangled in his silver hair, alternating between pulling him closer and pushing him away as the sensations became overwhelming.

"Elph," you moaned, voice breathy and wrecked. "Please, I..."

"I need you," he interrupted, his voice was unnerving. He never sounded like that before. "All of you."

In one fluid motion, he rose up and captured your lips in another searing kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he devoured your mouth. His hands roamed your body, mapping every curve.

Elphael broke the kiss to hastily remove his own clothing, revealing his tattooed lavender skin. The celestial designs seemed to shimmer in the dim light as he positioned himself between your legs. His arousal pressed insistently against your thigh, hot and eager.

His eyes locked with yours, burning with an intensity that took your breath away. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his length just barely pressing against you.

"Tell me you want this," he growled in a husky note. "Tell me you want me."

You nodded frantically, beyond words at this point. But that wasn't enough for him. He needed to hear it.

"Say it," he demanded, grinding against you teasingly. "I need to hear you say it."

"I want you," you gasped out. "Please, Elphael. I want you."

A primal moan rumbled in his chest at your words. Without further hesitation, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust. You cried out at the sudden fullness, your body half falling off the bed, shaking viciously.

Elphael stilled for a moment. You were so warm around him.

His grey eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he sheathed himself fully inside you. The tight heat of your body enveloping him was beyond anything he had ever imagined. He let out a shuddering breath, struggling to maintain control.

"Fuck," he groaned, strained with the effort of holding still. He was fearful he would explode immedietly. He needed to savor this. You.

You whimpered beneath him, adjusting to the stretch and fullness. Your hands clutched at his biceps, feeling the muscles coiled tight with restraint. After a moment, you rolled your hips experimentally, drawing a hiss from Elphael's lips.

Taking that as his cue, the drow began to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts, enjoying every inch of you. But his control quickly unraveled as years of pent-up desire took over. His pace increased, hips pounding down into you. The loud clapping against each other joined the chorus of your moans. He pulled you up by your arms, holding you up with his strong arm against your back. He stared into your eyes as your hot breath intermingled with his own.

Elphael's thrusts became more frantic as he held you against him, his grey eyes blazing dark and cardinal. The new angle allowed him to hit deeper inside you, drawing breathless cries from your lips with each powerful snap of his hips.

He growled again, voice rough with possessive desire. "Say it. Tell me you're mine."

You gasped, struggling to form words as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. "Y-yours," you managed to stammer out. "I'm yours, Elph."

A feral grin spread across his face at your words. He captured your lips in another deep kiss, tongue plunging into your mouth as he continued to drive into you relentlessly. One hand tangled in your hair, gripping tightly as he feasted on you.

In one fluid motion, Elphael flipped you over. Your knees sank into the mattress. Elphael’s hands grabbed your ass so tightly that the intensity of his grip made your body jolt slightly. His fingernails dug into your flesh as he let out another shaky sigh. The sight of you like this drove him insane. He repositioned himself and thrust back in. The way he filled you up again made you scream out loud.

His pace grew frantic again, almost punishing in its intensity. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your breathless moans and Elphael's guttural groans. You could feel the tension coiling tighter in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.

One hand snaked around to rub tight circles against your most sensitive area, quickly pushing you towards the edge.

"Come for me," Elphael commanded, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to feel you fall apart around me."

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You had to obey him.

Your body wavered as pleasure coursed through every nerve, while his continuous thrusts made the ecstacy take over even more. Elphael groaned deeply as he felt you clench around him, your release coating his length and allowing him to slide even more smoothly in and out of your quivering form.

"That's it," he growled, his voice growing louder with the effort of holding back his own release. "You're so perfect, so beautiful when you come for me."

His thrusts were erratic, chasing his own pleasure now. One hand gripped your hip bruisingly tight while the other tangled in your hair, pulling your head back. His lips latched onto your neck, sucking and biting as he drove into you relentlessly.

"Mine, mine, mine, MINE!" he panted against your skin between kisses. "All…MINE!”

With a final, powerful thrust, Elphael buried himself deep within you.

You could feel the hot pulse of his release, filling you completely.

For a long moment, you both remained still, panting heavily as you came down from your shared high. Elphael's forehead rested between your shoulder blades, his breath hot against your sweat-slicked skin. His arms trembled slightly as he held himself above you, careful not to crush you with his weight.

Slowly, gently, he eased out of you and rolled to the side, pulling you with him. You found yourself cradled against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if he was afraid you might vanish. The rapid beating of his heart gradually slowed beneath your cheek.

Elphael's fingers played with your now wet hair. He pressed soft kisses against your temple, stopping in between to catch his own breath again.

“I love you…”, he murmured. “Please…don’t go…I didn’t think-”

You looked up at him. You could see his eyes were filled with terror. He had let himself lose control and he was anxious it had been too much.

You smiled serenly. “Don’t worry Elph. I liked it.”

Elphael's eyes widened, a mix of relief and disbelief washing over his features. "You...you did?" he breathed.

You nodded, reaching up to cup his cheek. He was so beautiful, this bashful and nervous version of him was what you knew and already loved. That primal version though… that was something else. Something you equally enjoyed.

A tentative smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He leaned into your touch, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. "I've wanted to show you for so long," he murmured. "I was afraid I'd scare you away."

You chuckled softly. "Well, you certainly surprised me. But I'm not going anywhere."

Elphael's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. A small tear escaped him.

"Good," he murmured. "Because I can’t let you go now.”

You caught yourself smiling at that statement.

[songbird-and-her-fos]

Dance Lessons

Emmrich/F!Rook

Emmrich likes to indulge in the finer arts, including dance, and wants to share this with Rook. Sadly, Rook has little confidence in her dancing abilities

-

A quiet day at the Lighthouse. Lyrei “Rook” Ingellvar didn’t know what drew her to the small hidden room with the big piano, but she found herself there nonetheless. There were so many more enjoyable things she could spend her time with, she told herself, so why come here? Perhaps it was the instrument itself that attracted her to this seldom visited corner of the Lighthouse; Rook loved music, though she had never had the opportunity to learn to play. So her fingers only lightly grazed the ivories, never truly pressing any of them hard enough to produce a sound.

She missed music. Be it the lengthy elegies written for funerals back in Nevarra or lively drinking songs filling the air of taverns; she hadn’t heard any of that in way too long a time.

Hadn’t Bellara discovered an ancient Elven music box not too long ago? Just as Rook resolved to ask about it soon, someone entered the room.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, dearest. I’ve been looking for you.”

She turned around, her face lighting up with a smile. “Emmrich.”

He held up the artifact in his hands. “I asked Bellara if she would let us borrow her music box; there’s something I want us to try with it.” He placed it on a nearby table. “I had at first considered trying to teach Manfred how to play the piano for us; he was very interested, but I think he needs to focus on his magic training for the time being.”

“Now you’re making me curious”, Rook said cheerfully. “Don’t keep me in suspense like that!”

“My darling, have you ever tried dancing?”

Rook bit her lip. “I haven’t. I’m not sure I would be any good at it, to be honest.”

Emmrich stretched out his arms to pull her against him. “Nonsense. I see how you move in battle; you are a born dancer if I’ve ever seen one.”

Her eyes flitted about the room, for the first time trying to look at anything but him. “I don’t want to embarrass myself; especially not in front of you.”

Emmrich leaned forward and kissed her. “I would never judge you, you know that. Come, we'll start with a simple waltz. Without music, so you can get a feeling for the steps first.”

Rook hesitated for a moment, but found herself unable to say no to him. Not when he was so excited at the prospect of dancing with her. “...Okay, but I take no responsibility for any damage done to your toes.”

“Marvelous! It's easy, really.” He placed one hand on her waist and took hers with the other. “Start by taking a step forward with your left foot, then a sideways step with your right foot…”

This “simple waltz” felt anything but simple at first. She executed the steps just as Emmrich instructed, but kept losing the rhythm and felt her face heat up every time she stumbled. Just when she was about to ask if it was time to stop, Emmrich paused.

“Rook, my dearest, you are way too stiff. Relax. Don’t worry too much about executing every step perfectly. Just focus on me.”

Rook took another deep breath. “Focus on you. Okay. I can do that.” She concentrated on his eyes, gentle and loving as ever. No trace of judgement or annoyance. He moved, and she followed, her mind easing to a pleasant emptiness that left space for the two of them, and nothing else. She barely noticed when his hand slightly moved and the music box began playing. It was an ancient Elven song, a far cry from modern ballroom music, but it still flowed into their movements like a guiding breeze. That was her entire world in this moment; music and movement… and Emmrich, smiling at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I knew you could do it.” Delight lit up his eyes.

“What can I say? I have an excellent teacher.”

Step by step, they twirled through the room, allowing themselves to get lost in the moment. One, two, three…

Emmrich’s hoarse chuckle slightly pulled her from her thoughts. “You are absolutely beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “Says the stunning man in front of me.”

He laughed, and her heart did a little flip.

The song slowly fizzled out, and with a final spin, Emmrich, kissed her and then rested his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“And I love you. And… thank you for teaching me how to dance. Maybe we can do this more often?”

“Whenever you like, my dearest.”

[lucygraysboy]

“well, coriolanus never played with dolls, but tigris and i did,” billy softly corrects, moving her left foot away from the water and reaching for her right one to repeat the process. he can tell just by the way she talks to him that she’s having a hard time believing his story. “did he ever say anything ‘bout me? my brother, i mean.” most of billy’s friends from thirteen don’t know much about his background and he can’t help but wonder if coriolanus’ ever mentioned him. “how can i convince you that i’m not my brother?” maybe all they need is time, billy thinks to himself, forgetting that he’s supposed to be on his merry way in the morning. but he can’t leave her here. she’ll die. “sorry to rain on your parade again, but last time i was at the capitol or in any penthouse, i was five years old. i’m a little older now,” he counters, but there’s no actual bite to his voice. he’s persistent but far from hateful or angry. “and i’m not a snow anymore. i took my mother’s maiden name after she…” died. but the word sours on his tongue. “to honor her.” he couldn’t call himself william snow while surrounded by rebels, and so he introduced himself to everyone as billy bonney. “that doesn’t surprise me at all. our grandmother hates people from the districts with a passion, fears ‘em, too. maybe you reminded her of our ma on top of it all.” not that their mother was born in the districts, but she had a very similar hair color, was a petite woman with a love for colorful dresses, much like the one she’s wearing now. “i’m sorry you got to meet her,” he sighs, cleaning the blisters on her right foot with utmost tenderness. he’s seen worse things. it doesn’t really bother him. “i’m not my brother.” he feels like a broken record, but what else is he supposed to say? her story sounds crazy and he’s still trying to wrap his head around it, but the blisters on her feet and the state that she’s in are a testimony of their own.

“lucy gray. that’s a nice name.” very beautiful, but it’s left unsaid, hanging in the air between them. she is very beautiful, even with all this dirt and scratches and matted hair. her eyes are very unique, hypnotizing. “nice to meet you, lucy gray,” he offers, briefly wondering if he should shake her hand but making no move for it. “what i meant by…?” he trails off, unsure what she’s talking about. he keeps glancing upwards, smiling shyly in hopes it might soften her demeanor. he dries her right foot and rubs some iodine into her wounds before pulling the other warm sock on it. he lets go of her ankle, her words still ringing in his head as part of him refuses to accept them — a liar with a bad heart, that’s not his brother, that’s not the coriolanus he remembers. “will you let me see ‘em? while we’re at it? i’ll just take a quick look and put some iodine on ‘em. you should change out of this dress anyway. can’t sit here all drenched, you’ll get sick.” his heart lurches into his throat as he can’t help but wonder what kind of wounds her clothes are hiding. bullet wounds? just little scratches? animal bites?

“mhm.” got what from his mother? being entirely wrong and insane? “hard to believe you did that.” the songbird muses, bitterly thinking how he has no heart for himself let alone anyone else. “last i checked…tigris, you and grandma’am all shared a condo. the snow penthouse.” lucy gray reminds since he’s out of his mind and can’t even think for himself. “you never spoke highly about your grandmother even back then. and she didn’t take a likin’ to me much either, so that makes sense.” of all things, he does seem to remember this information about his hateful grandma. “except— you did. you did attack me first in the woods the last time. so i came prepared this time.” dumbass, she bites her tongue from blurting that last word like she almost does. “lucy. my full name is lucy gray, you know that.” annoyingly glaring off to the side, “i don’t know what you meant before.” because at times, she was using him too— in the beginning. a part of her did spark care and love in her heart for him, there was a glimmer of it but it didn’t engulf her because she knew something wasn’t honest about him. she knew something was OFF. those bad feelings extinguished any forming burning love in her chest for him the second she began to sense those red flags arise, even long before he started shooting at her or lied to her. it’s complicated on how to put it in words, because at times her heart did flutter when he was kind to her and kind to maude ivory. when they exchanged kisses and that day at the lake— but all of that died and to her, he very well could’ve just been faking it all which makes it easier to pretend those feelings never happened. “course i cared for you, but i began realizin’ you aren’t the noble person i thought you were and i don’t go for people like that. a liar with a bad heart is a quick way to turn me off.” so in other words, no, she doesn’t have feelings for him anymore. if his kind acts were genuine like the acts he’s doing now, then she certainly would’ve changed her mind. it’s a weird feeling, seeing him be nice to her, it serves to irritate her even more because she would’ve liked coriolanus to be this person but instead he was a monster. is a monster. “there’s one on my upper arm,” covered by her sleeve on her left arm, “and a few cuts on my legs. but those’ll be fine...” she claims even though they aren’t as she watches him slip the sock onto her foot.

[neighbourscat]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐌 , nicholas alexander chavez

OUT OF MY LEAGUE.

𓈒�� ˙ ꪆৎ   ꣹  ۫  𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . college theatre student!nicholas c. X college criminology student!black!fem!reader. || second person ( you, yours, you’re ) + lowercase intended.

+ synopsis. the chime is instant. the ping is small, fleeting, but it can change everything.

+ cw. none, honestly! story does not follow the exact storyline of kdrama love alarm!

+ nali’s notes; started this at 11pm & finished at 1am, wowie ( finished proofreading at 3:59am ) remembered i could write whatever i want and cooked this sweet thing up! season1 of love alarm actually changed my life & wow ( i watched it years ago during quarantine ). kdrama romance is soooo omg yes to me. this story features simon-boy!chavez ( banging hawt white man in glasses! ). wordcount :: 2.0k+

+ to be played: her, the american dawn. || alternative: out of my league, fitz and the tantrums.

OUT OF MY LEAGUE.

the simple things in life were usually the most appealing to nicholas; he found beauty in everything. the gentleness and sweetness and softness of what just is. like a walking through the park and stepping on dried autumn leaves and hearing the loud crunching under the bottoms of his brown boots. he didn’t need things to be complicated or intricate or extra extravagant. nothing could ever compare to the simple things. the simple things; which are the most beautiful, he often said to his diverse friend group ( greta, jennie, and savion ) — who differed. it was the little things that were worth a bajillion; it’s the little things that actually kept the people united . .. .

the love alarm app — bless the creator's heart, trying to make everyone's love-lives just a tad bit easier — had felt like a cheap gimmick to him, a way to boil down something so genuine as love into a few lines of code and a glowing screen. love wasn’t supposed to be instant. it was supposed to be discovered in moments that people missed if they weren’t looking carefully: the sound of someone’s laugh, the way that someone spoke when they thought no one was listening, or how their eyes seemed to glisten and sparkle when they raved about a topic they were super passionate on, or how that someone looked when they thought they were alone; that soft .. restful expression.

the concept of love alarm felt pretty intrusive — he hated the idea that someone’s private feelings could be revealed in an instant, no choice, no control. he’d seen people’s lives change because of love alarm; friends who’d been devastated by unrequited pings, others who’d basked in the glow of a dozen notifications. people flocked to it like moths to a flame, their lives ruled by the chime of the app, their heads constantly buried in their screens, hoping for a sign that someone — anyone — loved them. it was kind of sad.

but his friends had insisted he get the app, just to keep up with the rest of society. and so, reluctantly, he did, though he kept it on silent and usually out of sight.

on this particular friday afternoon, he’d been wandering through the library, killing time before an upcoming class: philosophy. in one hand, he held his notebooks and in the other, a pen which he’d been twirling along his fingers skillfully. the place was almost empty; many having already left for the weekend or back in their dorms to sleep, except for a few students spread out with laptops and thick stacks of books. the quiet settled over him like a comfort, the kind of stillness that felt rare and safe; which he adored. he dropped the pen into a breast pocket of his jacket and slipped his phone out of a back pocket, not because he wanted to check love alarm, but to see the time, to make sure he wasn’t late ..

nicholas was about to put it back when he noticed something unusual on his screen — a faint, pulsating light outlining the love alarm icon. it took a second for him to register what it meant .. a quiet ping! the beating of a heart; a calm, relaxed heart. his lips almost curved up into a silly smile. someone in the library had on their love alarm .. and that someone loved him. someone within a 10mile radius loves you, his screen read.

nicholas’ first instinct was to ignore it, to pretend he hadn’t noticed. but curiosity had a way of creeping in and eating at his insides, no matter how much he tried to brush it off. he’d never really thought about the possibility that someone’s alarm would go off for him; he wasn’t the type to attract attention, and he liked it that way .. immediately with the knuckle of his right index finger, he pushed the round, wire-framed glasses ( the ones that framed his face perfectly ) further up his nose-bridge.

the notification sat there, quiet yet unignorable, a tiny reminder that he wasn’t as invisible as he thought — with his wired headphones, blocking out the rest of the world with one, single tune and a pocket of his messenger bag stuffed messily with crossword-puzzle, sudoku, and word-search books — he wasn’t just one of those background figures, the kind people always overlooked.

nicholas looked around, scanning the aisles, the nooks and corners of the library. there wasn’t anyone he recognized, just a few scattered figures with their heads down, lost in whatever they were reading and researching. but then he noticed you .. sitting alone and rapidly typing away at your laptop’s keyboard. you and him had advanced literature 1002 together — your brown face partially hidden by tight, dark curls. he liked how you .. wore your natural hair out and how it seemed to puff up and get bigger everyday.

you seemed engrossed in your assignment; you were content with your own company and focused, completely oblivious to the world around you, a quiet presence that somehow drew him in. he couldn’t see your face completely, but he was sure it was you .. for there was something so familiar. he looked in a bit more .. and there it was: that mini deer plush that dangled from a chain attached to your light-brown leather purse; your bestest friend had the matching mini bunny. and then it was the pair of miniature, light pink pointe-shoes keychain — he remembered earlier in the semester, during an icebreaker, you had said that you danced all your life .. and if you could, you’d choose your dream career.

nicholas considered for a moment — you didn’t look like someone who’d use love alarm honestly .. . not with your old, worn-out white sweater and laptop that seemed to anchor you in place; in other words, you looked too mature and far too sensible for this app — nicholas stared down at his screen .. yet, his alarm was still quietly blinking. pulsating. you hadn’t looked up, hadn’t glanced in his direction, but he could feel it — he knew it was you .. hidden feelings broadcasted, revealed in a single notification.

suddenly, his heart started to pound, a feeling he hadn’t expected or wanted. he didn’t know you, not exactly, but that small, cute light on his phone was a reminder of something he wanted to be apart of. you were close enough to set off his alarm, which meant something, even if he wasn’t sure what yet. he was about to turn away, to brush it off as some strange coincidence, but before he could, you lifted your head.

your eyes met his — just for a second, but it was enough. your gaze was soft, almost searching, and there was a flicker of surprise there too, as if you hadn’t expected anyone to notice you. you looked back to your laptop, un-reacting, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d seen right through him, that somehow you too knew. it was unnerving, this sudden awareness — and then his gaze shifted and there was a girl .. staring at him, hard.

dianna halse; a gorgeous white girl so far out of his league.

his attention went back to the faint glow on his phone and the quiet connection it hinted at — a connection he hadn’t sought out, but one that seemed to have found him anyway and .. one that might not even be you.

and after a few moments, you stood up, gathering your things in a slight rush, as if you’d suddenly remembered somewhere else you had to be — your next class, maybe. nicholas watched you go, feeling a strange pull, an ache he wasn’t sure he understood .. and once you were out of his circle, the heart on his phone was still blinking. beating. pulsing. that single, silent confession wasn’t from you .. the app had confirmed.

“hi …” it took him a few seconds to pull his stare from your shrinking form. he clicked his phone off and dropped it into a back pocket. nicholas fixed his spectacles, quickly, and blinked down at the blonde standing before him. he faked a tight-lipped grin, and then he responded after leaving her hanging for about thirty seconds: “dianna. hello. how are you .. this afternoon?” not smooth at all, but rather robotic and awkward.

if they had gone to highschool together, dianna halse would have bullied ( destroyed ) him and broke him into itty-bitty pieces. he would bet on it. before her transformation into the real world, aka college, dianna h. was the epitome of a “mean girl” — swift with biting remarks, highly judgmental, and overly aggressive — and would have never associated with someone like nicholas; a theatre / glee kid, kind-of proper, unfashionable, lacking social skills and a woman’s touch, unabashedly geeky, and highly insecure.

“i’m doing pretty okay-“ she smiled at his acknowledgment of her and followed in step as he started off through the library again, back on track. “-i’m glad to’ve run into you, nicholas. i, uh, jus’ wanted to ask you about something-“ dianna struggled to keep pace — in her studded heeled-ankle boots — with nicholas, who won’t even make eye contact with her. dianna, on the other hand, glanced up at him every few seconds, praying he’d slow himself down. “nothing school or work related …”

nicholas stopped at the exit door — the one that led straight to the charleston building, where his 3:30pm philosophy class was located. his eyes found hers and he waited, undoubtedly annoyed and obviously disappointed. dianna saw the look he’d been giving her and how his shoulders were slumped, she opted not to take up anymore of his time. “there’s a gathering next friday night at wilder hall .. something nice and cute before thanksgiving break, and, well, i was wondering, really .. if maybe you’d want to tag along with me?”

his eyes widened, just a fraction, clearly taken aback. “.. what? me? ..” a smile started to pull at dianna’s lips, her hand reaching up to rake through a golden wave. “ .. like .. the both of us? .. i-together?” looking like a couple. there was nothing casual about this invite, he knew. dianna rang his love alarm and she was taking action, after waiting so long. “mhm. that’s right,” dianna said, moving the golden wave behind her shoulder, “and it’ll be fun.” he studied her intently, not yet giving her an answer. “let this be how i ‘thank you’ for being my amazing- .. -ly fun unpaid tutor.”

nicholas could feel a lump forming in his throat as he tried to find the right words — a polite way to tell this ex-cheerleader ‘no’ — in fear that she’d probably tell him off for declining her, which was something that he knew had never happened to her. the thoughts in his head all rushed together, soon producing: “can i .. think about it?” — his own words feeling heavy on his tongue — a safe guard, one that surely won’t last until next friday. she’ll need the answer eventually .. by sunday afternoon presumably.

dianna gave a light nod, she supposed he could. “‘kay ‘kay,” the young woman said first, “yeah, of course. just .. y’know, text or call or, uhm .. find me when you have an answer.” no, he told himself, sunday afternoon was too late. he had to break the news on saturday morning. yup, he’ll text her ‘no’ .. but not straight-up, because that’s a bit harsh, right? she seems to actually want him there, so he’ll have to express immense sorrow and misfortune. three-no-four sentences at least, he thought. with the correct punctuation marks and a few emojis, he has himself a get-out-of-jail card.

“will do.”

[pacheonmaeng]

sqs romeo ver. red stage

[froginabogg]

babe wake up new bryce charles pictures just dropped

x x x x💜x x x x

[sysig]

Coming in to play! (Patreon)

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[iiboronii]

okay so i went on a walkie (my body needed to go on one, remember to take care of yourselves and listen to what your body needs btw!!!!) and i'm outside again and. i just. i am so enthralled by the beauty that is all around me. the clouds are slightly tinted yellow as the sun goes down. the leaves are glowing in the evening sun. the contrast of the light and darkness depending on where you look on the tree is so beautiful. i love being alive and experiencing the small joys of nature. i love the warm weather. i'm wearing shorts out here!!!! life is so beautiful.

[claire-starsword]

ten billion years to get the debug mode of SF2 to work and it's this beautiful, zero context creep-ass screen.

[mariusroyale]

i truly fear the person i become when im on character ai

[dreampearls]

colleis personality functionally being left to the ether because her webtoon iteration is at such fundamental odds with her game iteration that any attempts to temper between the two just range so dramatically