#so while i leave the dye in ill be working on posting

[finnzcorner]

I have off work tomorrow so expect to see some fem ranchers drawing tomorrow and maybe some sketches of something I'm working on :]

[livingfictionsystem]

Just some updates:

We're probably getting back on Tumblr soon. Anons before were actually starting to creep us out, so we turned that feature off. And wouldn't you know it, when people can't be anonymous, it gets kiiiiinda objectively humiliating to be seen on the "Unseelie Fae" predator's side.

👀

Our asks are still open, but hopefully your profile being linked to it will have you stalkers coming a little more correct? 🤞 My optimism is probably mad unfounded but we'll see.

Sometimes people say "Oh quit poking the bear and your harassers will leave you alone." Like, no, Xanthe was barely on FB for two months and was still shared around in weird groups. It doesn't matter if we try to educate the masses or not, so we might as well try for positive effects while getting flack for... existing?

We're also starting to post about plurality on TikTok. So now we're really asking for it 💀💀💀

I can just hear them now. "Oh, silly "system", don't you know that people with actual mental illness can't be on social media? Or something?" 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ Idek their logic. Either you're institutionalized or faking ig.

No one mentally ill has ever been on social media, by the way. Apparently.

Autumn is always busy for us anyway. My birthday was the middle of September. (I bought books, I'm good, lol.) Then Xanthe's celebrated their birthday back in Savannah for the beginning of November. And Sparrow had his birthday celebration last week and I s2g we can still feel the hangover rip

We got medicated for the sui ideation. It? Actually? Seems? To have worked? I think our lifespan got extended by at least another decade. Much to like half of the fronters' chagrin lol

Polaris Sterling, our gatekeeper, has changed his name from Xhaxhollari Icarus. We've yet to update the website and such but give it time. You can call him Sterling or Polaris.

Our father died last spring. That sucked. His gf was a trip too. Ever see someone be a Karen at a funeral? Wild.

We told both our brothers about our trauma and D.I.D. They both said that makes a lot of sense so now they're getting to know Sparrow and I *as* Sparrow and I.

We got some more writing work commissioned. Xanthe has been on it to try to fully fund that London vacay within two years. We also finally found a black hair dye we're not allergic to, so Xanthe is down with their two-year long Howl Pendragon moment lmao

I think that's most of the important updates.

Here's a sign of life if you need it.

-Rune Hallows

[kitcam-the-great]

E2!Scott Headcanon Backstory

Consider this a continuation of this post. It’s not super detailed nor is it properly written. Just ideas I needed to write down while I was in the zone on Discord

❗️ TW: Heavy Implications of SA/R. If you’re uncomfortable by that I suggest you keep scrolling. I’ll see you in the next post. Also keep in mind that this is solely about fictional characters. No real people involved. I’ll let you know when it begins and when it’s over. ❗️

So he and his family were travelers. His mother sold dyes and woolen goods while his father was a cartographer. They all enjoyed collecting souvenirs from each of the towns they visited.

As Scott got older, he decides to travel on his own. Back and forth from new lands to his parents then back out again. He loved it. He loved the thrill of adventure and eventually decided to leave everything behind for good. He still kept hun touch with his parents through letters though. Can’t ever forget them.

Pretty soon he gets kinda bored of his life on the road. He’s real short on cash so it’s high time to find some work. The circus is in town so he decides to take a chance. Turns out he absolutely loved it. The people love him too. So many people tuned in for his acrobatic and dance acts.

Unfortunately being in the limelight for a long time got to his head. He became a bit of a narcissist, and wrote to his parents less and less. He eventually forgot about them all together. It all soon came back to bite him in the ass.

Disaster struck. A plague broke out in the land, and Scott got word that his parents became deathly ill. Upon hearing this, and overwhelming sense of guild loomed over him. He quickly rode all the way back to his parents, only to be met by a doctor instead. He couldn’t even get in to see them. The doctor informed him that they’d survive if he got some flowers for a remedy they been told to test. The flower in question were poppies, and Scott instantly complied. Searching far and wide for all the poppies he could find and returned them to the doctor. He was issued away, not being able to say a word to his parents.

Back at the circus, Scott hadn’t been performing as well, and the crowds were starting to notice. And so did the big top’s sleezy manager. He criticized him harshly and threatened to abandon him completely. Scott felt like he was under constant pressure. Nothing he did every felt right. Nowhere he wandered felt like freedom. He was trapped.

Then one horrid evening, Scott was visited by the doctor, who had come to see the show earlier that day. He let him know with a heavy heart that unfortunately the poppies, that have been merely rumored to treat the illness, made it worse. And his parents had unfortunately passed.

Scott grew cold. The best things in his life were stripped away from him. And it was his fault. He’d been greedy and he payed for it. And now he was gonna make sure that everything he did, everything he earned, would be in their name.

He kept performing and traveling with the circus. His acts were getting better and so was his pay. The manager was impressed. Proud even to have him on his team. So proud in fact that he allowed people to ‘rent’ him for private events.

Scott liked this new attention at first. He got to perform for some of the wealthiest people he’s ever met and made a fortune off of his acrobatic acts. He was a hit with kids too, thought they weren’t his favorite crowds. They can be real noisy and obnoxious.

One night the circus got a visit from a really big name in the entertainment business. This dude was real fascinated with Scott and asked the manager if he could borrow him for his birthday that evening. Scott cut in asking what would be his pay. The man simply said that he’d be getting to perform for some do the most noble people in his part of town, and that no real payment was needed. Scott laughed in his face and refused.

The manager, on the other hand, was INSISTENT that he take on this work. And that he’d double, no, triple. His pay for the next week. Scott rose it to a month and the deal was done.

The birthday was an absolute blast. Good food and loud music we’re practically pouring out of each corner of the place. There were all kinds of things to do, and a variety of different acts. But the one the man was the most excited for was Scott. So he gave his performance everything he had and the crowd was well receiving. Though, unbeknownst to Scott, he was far from done with the night. See the man had many other plans for Scott, and they weren’t nice ones.

❗️TW ❗️

In short, he blackmails Scott into sleeping with him various nights in exchange for a few of his collectibles. He knows how much that kind of stuff meant to him, and his parents

The manager was more than willing to give Scott up several nights in a row to the man. He’d be the one getting the pay after all. Didn’t matter if Scott came in the next day absolutely wrecked out of his body and mind. And he knew that Scott hated every bit of it.

He was hurting. He was a laughing stock. It’s what he deserved, he kept telling himself. He basically asked for this, what with his arrogance and narcissism. But after several months of mistreatment and mental torture, he’d remembered his parents and what they’d taught him. And realized, this isn’t what he deserved.

❗️End of TW ❗️

And what he did deserve was all the riches he could get his hands on. So one night, after a painful service, he went out, snatched one of the horses and carts and began stuffing it and his bag with all sorts of rare treasures.

The sound of the horse alarmed a few people as well as the the man who’d been renting the acrobat. The last thing he ever saw and heard was Scott, cursing his name and fleeing with all his goods. He never returned to the circus. To that horrible place to nightmares. And instead, he’s continue his parents legacy by traveling, mapping, and eventually selling.

[audreydoeskaren]

Abridged history of early 20th century Chinese womenswear (part 4.2: 1930s-hair, makeup & accessories)

Source here

Previous posts in the series:

Part 1: 1890s

Part 2: 1900s & 1910s

Part 3.1: 1920s-silhouette

Part 3.2: 1920s-design details

Part 3.3: 1920s-accessories, hair & makeup

Part 4.1: 1930s-silhouette & design

A super late Happy Chinese New Year to all fellow humans who celebrate it!! I’m going to discuss hair, makeup and accessories of the 1930s today in no particular order.

Undergarments

At one point between 1932 and 1934 women in China decided to ditch the breast binders worn since the 1890s and wear brassieres instead. This allowed the natural shape of women’s breasts to show and the contrast between the bust and waist lent the dresses of the mid 30s a soft hourglass shape. The brassieres of the 1930s didn’t have stiffening, boning or foam and relied only on their structure for support, so the shape of the breasts looked very soft and rounded.

Source here

30s Du Barry lingerie sewing pattern for brassieres and drawers. This may not be very representative because brassieres made by different companies looked different, but they usually looked like modern bras with vertical darts and no wires or foam cups.

I must again redirect you to this article on breast binding in China, if you can’t read Chinese Google Translate works just fine. There’s one thing that I’d like to comment on though; the author named breast binding as the sole reason for the small bust measures of women at the time and argued that it caused health problems and hindered the growth of the chest. I think this is true to some extent, but other reasons for the generally small stature of women in this period (and indeed the centuries before) included malnourishment, bad healthcare and lack of exercise. Women weren’t educated about healthy diets and the importance of physical exercise before the 30s, not to mention the non-existent healthcare they received, so they were much shorter and skinnier, and suffered from more illnesses than the average modern woman. Before industrialization, food production was also often insufficient so a lot of women were malnourished.

As popular as brassieres were, some Chinese women chose to go braless. However, I have usually seen braless women in advertisements/pinup posters, so I suspect this would not be very socially acceptable on a daily basis.

Source: lai yiching0926 on Pinterest. I get so many primary sources from this person y’all may as well check out their board on Chinese calendar painting it’s bomb. I also have a Pinterest board where I collect primary sources if anyone is interested, my Pinterest username is also audreydoeskaren.

However, being braless doesn’t mean wearing nothing underneath a cheongsam. Camisoles were worn on the upper body and drawers (which were becoming proto-panties) on the lower body; alternatively a slip could be worn. 30s drawers are really pretty in my opinion, they were high waisted and had an a-line shape, decorated with lace.

To my knowledge, Chinese women in this period did not yet wear girdles, corsets or any other kind of shapewear to take in the waist, at least I have never seen their edges peeking out from underneath the cheongsam. I guess this was also unnecessary as the cheongsam was a light one piece dress and didn’t require any support at the waist.

From my observation, stockings were kind of optional in this period. In the early 20s and before, Chinese women wore short stockings tied up by garters at knee level, but as the skirt hem rose to knee length in the late 20s they probably stopped doing that as the garters would show when they inevitably flash their knees. I assume longer, nude stockings would be worn, held up by a garterbelt or something, but a lot of images of this era showed women with no visible stockings. Teenagers and younger women could wear low knit socks like Western children, but these were not acceptable on grown up women unless they were doing sports. Tights were not yet a thing either.

On top of these undergarments, some women chose to wear ankle length petticoats or pants underneath the cheongsam. This was especially the case around 1934 when the side slits were mid thigh or higher and constantly showing your drawers was likely not the most respectable thing. These petticoats and pants were most commonly white and had decorative trim. Petticoats could have slits down both sides like the outer cheongsam or a flared hem. Pants were straight cut and wide legged. Later in the decade the slits became lower so petticoats and pants weren’t that necessary anymore but many women still chose to wear them, which is fine by me because I think it’s a cute look. Likewise there were many examples of women around 1934 wearing high slit cheongsam without petticoats or pants, especially if they were dancing, so this was likely a matter of personal preference (Western dances like tango, waltz, foxtrot, charleston and swing were introduced to China and popularized in the 20s and 30s. The Paramount dance hall in my native city of Shanghai is a monument to that).

Source here

Mid 30s photograph, high slit cheongsam with pants.

Source here

Later 30s fabric ad, low slit cheongsam with flared petticoat. 

Outerwear

A noteworthy development in the mid 30s was that wearing actual, full blown Western fashion became popularized, but only as outerwear, sportswear or eveningwear; Western day dresses were not often seen on Chinese women. In regards to Western outerwear, a variety of them could be worn over cheongsam. In addition to the fur trim wrap coats popular in the late 20s, women wore capes, vests, suits, coats, knit cardigans and others. It was completely ok to mix and match Western accessories and jackets with cheongsam.

Source here

Short cape.

Source here

Early 30s women’s suit. I know I use this image a lot, it’s just really useful and beautiful :)

Source here

Early 30s fur trim wrap coat.

Source: Sayuu G on Pinterest, link

Long coat with lapels.

Source: Yuan Li on Pinterest, link

Cardigan and jacket. This kind of short sleeved, straight front, collarless jacket on the left was very popular in the mid 30s.

Another cute mid 30s accessory I’m very fond of is the gauntlet glove i.e. gloves that have a very wide trunk opening. I think they have an equestrian flair and look very badass.

Source: Yuan Li on Pinterest, link

1935 cover of The Young Companion. (Why are the useful images always so small? Woe is me)

Earrings were really common in the 30s, you could see them in almost all of the reference photos in this post. 

Hairstyles

Since around 1930 the history of Chinese and Western women’s hairstyles had almost completely synchronized so if you know about vintage Western hairstyles you’re welcome to skip this part.

In the beginning of the 30s the most common hairstyle was a short bob with optional fingerwaves (called waterwaves in this period? I’m not great with terminology). Some bobs in the late 20s/early 30s could be so short that they look like buzz cuts. The defining feature of the fingerwave was the shimmery wave-like pattern in the hair created by pinching and combing the hair while it’s wet with setting products. Just a side note, the way fingerwaves are done in most Chinese period dramas nowadays, uh, leaves much to be desired. That’s because a lot of hairstylists just attach a wavy extension (which you can easily purchase from Taobao...) to the actresses’ forehead and call it a day, but that doesn’t really replicate the structure of the fingerwave and makes it look like the 铜钱头 in Kun Opera instead.

Source: Helen Xu on Pinterest.

Early 30s very short bob.

Source here

Early 30s fingerwave

Another very common hairstyle in the 30s was this mid length bob (either side part or middle part) with a lot of volume at the bottom. I am so puzzled as to how this is achieved, maybe with teasing or curling only at the bottom? That sounds odd.

Source here

Mid 30s fabric ad.

This ad is forcing me to go on a tangent about fabric dyes. This label, Indanthren, sold fabrics dyed from a range of blue or blue-ish colored synthetic dyes made by the German company BASF (which was merged into IG Farben at this time). Because of the introduction of synthetic dyes to China, almost all colors under the sun could be produced or imported so there weren’t really any specific color limitations to the clothing of this period.

Back to hair. Contrary to popular opinion, fingerwaves were not in fashion throughout the 30s, let alone the entire republican era. As the 30s progressed, the fashionable hair length became longer, making it more difficult for fingerwaves to be performed; they were replaced by roller sets and pin curls which are more suitable for longer hair. In the mid 30s, brush out curls with a side part were extremely popular. At this point bangs kind of became a Chinese cultural heritage and a lot of women would wear brush out curls with bangs. There are literally a million patterns for setting brush out curls and every woman probably had her own tricks, so everybody’s hair looked a tad different but the overall idea was the same as Western brush out curls: women would set the hair in the night and sleep with the rollers/pin curls to let them dry, then in the morning they would brush them out until the desirable wavy shape is achieved. Many women also used curling irons to achieve the same hairstyles with heat, which was faster and didn’t require waiting overnight. With that said, the fingerwave didn’t just disappear either, it was often used in conjunction with brush out curls to sculpt specific hairstyles. I’m not a professional vintage hairstylist so I can’t always clock if a hairstyle is done with fingerwaving, brush out curls or both. From my own experience with brush out curls, they are usually more voluminous and have more fizzy ends and the waves don’t line up so perfectly like with fingerwaves because the process is more uncontrollable (or maybe I’m just clumsy).

Source here

Typical mid 30s curls.

The fashionable hair length grew longer toward the end of the decade, with the finished curls reaching either the shoulder or the nape of the neck. Hairstyles became kind of rectangular in silhouette and flat at the crown. They were often pulled back at the sides to create a more rectangular shape for the face.

Source: lai yiching0926 on Pinterest.

Late 30s hairstyles.

Shoes

Again, full westernization here. 30s shoes had higher and thinner heels than 20s shoes, although they were still thicker and lower than modern stilettos. The heels were usually curved Louis heels. 30s shoes often had a single strap across the foot and a wrapped design at the toe. Spectator shoes and Oxfords that covered the whole foot were also worn. Likewise, strapless pumps were fashionable too, sometimes with an open toe design, especially toward the end of the decade. 

Source: genibee on Flickr, link

1935 Sears catalogue. Maybe not very representative since shoes made by different companies looked different, just showing what was possible.

Interestingly, I have never seen an image of a 30s Chinese woman wearing boots or booties outside of an equestrian context. I guess boots either weren’t feminine enough or were too inconvenient under the long cheongsam.

Sportswear

A very interesting development in the 30s was the popularization of sportswear as a result of women doing sports. Wealthy or aristocratic Chinese women have been riding and hunting in an attempt to emulate European lifestyle since decades, but these sports remained elite and untouchable for common women; in the 30s however, more accessible sports like swimming, volleyball and tennis became in vogue. The popularity of swimming was in large part due to the influence of female swimming champion 杨秀琼 Yang Xiuqiong (her name is spelled differently in Cantonese because she was from Hong Kong), who was seen as a national hero for winning a ton of medals in international swimming competitions and breaking records. China began trying to participate in Olympic games around this period and there were also many other women athletes competing in different sports, so sportswear became a necessity.

The design of swimwear in this period followed closely the design of Western bathing suits, usually a tight, short, one piece bodysuit.

Source here

1933 cover of The Young Companion featuring Yang in a swimsuit. There was a stigma around female swimmers at this time though, mostly because of the revealing clothing they had to wear to allow freedom of movement. Many press reports called Yang a “mermaid” because of her physical beauty, trying to reduce her to a sex icon instead of the glorious athlete she actually was. All of the whack rumors about her being a concubine of some rich dude was also really disgusting and distracting from her achievements.

I’ve also seen multiple times this two piece design with shorts and a modernized 肚兜 dudou (a Qing Dynasty undergarment with a function akin to that of a corset cover).

Source: EMKAY on Pinterest

30s pinup girl in two piece swimsuit.

For land sports, women usually wore a short sleeved open collar shirt with shorts, short knit socks and flat pumps.

Source: Jason Tse on Pinterest

1933 cover of The Young Companion featuring a tennis player. 

Makeup

The makeup look of the early 30s was almost identical to the late 20s look, with the thin, elongated eyebrows, large oval shaped blush and delicate red/mauve lips. This continued all the way until around 1938-39.

Toward the end of the decade, the eyebrows started to return to a normal thickness and became kind of arched instead of flat. Eyeshadows became lighter or non-existent. Women used cake mascara to darken their eyelashes, which were separated and evenly spread out. The location of the blush moved slightly downward. Red lipstick was still the most popular but the lips were plumper than in the early 30s. Overall very subtle and small changes to makeup. There were a bunch of Western and Japanese makeup companies trading in China at this point, I couldn’t name any specific ones beside Nivea which was quite popular for affordable skincare products like cream and sunscreen. I assume that actresses and pinup girls would also use Max Factor, but I’m not sure how widely used his products were among the general population. The Hong Kong brand 广生行 Kwong Sang Hong (whose Shanghai branch was called 双妹 “Twin Sisters” and whose advertisements we have seen too many times in this series) was also really popular.

I know I promised to talk about makeup more in this post but unfortunately there really isn’t much to talk about :( So see you next time when I dig into the 1940s!

[give-soup-please]

would it be alright to know which asks/prompts you're considering working on? i'm very curious to know what sorts of things catch your eye and what doesnt

I'm not sure how much good it will do to answer this ask now, given that we've got a little over 2.5 weeks left before I stop writing headcanons for good, but I'll do it anyway. Certain prompts are easier to write for than others, that's for sure. I'll do my best to keep these anons anonymous and not call them out, but there are some trends I've noticed.

The main thing I've noticed is that people send in concepts instead of prompts. There's a distinct difference between a prompt and a concept. I'm taking this example from a friend of mine, because he's better at explaining it than I am.

"a prompt is something that prompts you to think about an idea and to fill in the gaps with your own ideas and concepts.

a concept itself is more like, something that exists and is there. for example, "You now have purple hair" is a concept, "What would you do if you wanted to dye your hair" is a prompt."

As you can imagine, I much prefer prompts over concepts. Prompts have more wiggle room and allow for more creativity.

Sometimes people get... too specific. The ideal prompt strikes a balance between being specific enough to generate ideas, while still being general enough that I can explore a few different scenarios, and choose which one I like most.

Other ones I don't like doing involve being told exactly what to write. An example my friend came up with to illustrate this issue goes as follows: "What if the narrator ate an apple and was like 'ew, what is this, i've never tried this before' and then threw the apple away?" They just tell me to rewrite what they've wrote, which isn't great.

I hope this doesn't seem too much like me just complaining. Most of what's left in my inbox is really hard to write for, which is why posts are slow. I have around 90 or so in my inbox, and... I'm having a lot trouble.

It's why I don't answer in order of what's received, though I probably should. It's why I chose to leave the inbox open, because all that's left... I'm really struggling with. I need the new ideas both because they've got the potential to be good, and occasionally they unblock something that will make an older prompt doable.

I don't hold ill will about any request that's sent in, and I don't want people to feel guilty. But these are things people should be aware of.

As for what I do love writing for, well-

The weighted blanket ones were a lot of fun, but I think I've taken that as far as I can. Obsessive narrator is also hella fun. Father figure is a real hoot. I love writing about a narrator who loves, whatever form that takes. I enjoy getting to write his more unhinged self, because he's very unhinged underneath the fancy words and propriety. He's half writer, half theatre kid. I love writing chase scenes, too. The narrator strikes me as someone who pursues the people/things he enjoys, and that's almost always guaranteed to be fun.

The thing is, I've looked back at what I've written, and I've looked back at the things I've had the most fun doing, and the truth is, there are no specific prompts that are guaranteed to be fun. I've had obsessive narrator prompts that were 'meh' and the same with father figure. It might just be luck. Sometimes a prompt will come in and there's that jolt I get in my brain. I crack a smile, and type furiously until I burn out. That's only happened around five or so times, and those are the ones that are multiple pages long. (big brother narrator, breaking narrator out of the game, narrator accidentally cloning himself, narrator pulling reader into the game, and others)

But there's no guarantee of that happening, no formula that creates that response automatically.

I really hope this doesn't come off as me sounding like an asshole, but what's left in the inbox is stumping me. I feel bad that I can't write what people want me to write for, but inspiration for them is difficult for the above reasons.

I also want to make clear that just because a response is short, doesn't mean I hated the prompt. Sometimes, things are just hard to write for.

I stare at some of these prompts with bleary eyes, with nothing coming to mind, and it doesn't feel good. I want to make you guys happy, which means writing. There are days I can't write, and... I feel terrible. Part of me is quietly relieved that I'm ending the blog on my own terms, because the self pressure will ease.

Anyway, there's your overly long, detailed answer.

[letters-from-fictional-lovers]

Hair-Dye Date

This isn't the normal content I post, but I decided to drop a Kirishima fic here so, enjoy (:

The bathroom in your dorm room looked like a crime scene. The stains would never come out of the small rug you had used to decorate the small space. And the amount of red in the sink, on the counters. It even coated the front of your shirt, and your hands will probably stain pink for a week.

Somehow, Kirishima had convinced you to help him dye his hair. And he can’t sit still to save his life. When he tells a story, he talks with his hands. So when he starts talking about his training session with Bakugo earlier in the day, the exaggerated arm movements to imitate the explosions made, its hard to keep the hair dye from flinging everywhere.

When you’ve finally got him to calm down, and you get some progress done, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, burying his face in your stomach while you work because “he missed being able to hold his love, and just wanted to be close to you,”. Then he gives the puppy dog eyes, and you can't say no.

When it was time to rinse his hair, he did it in the bathroom sink. Of course you had protested, but he persuaded you by saying its easier this way, and he’d have your help, since you couldn't exactly shower with him in the dorm showers. Standing to quickly, the water flew from his hair, the dye sinking into the small white carpet, never to come out. He’d offer to buy you a new one, but every time you’d turn down the offer, because now when ever you saw it, you'd think of him.

Having you help him with his hair was seemingly a small event, but to the red haired male, it was the fact that he trusted you more than enough to help him with this. It was a big thing to have you help, and it meant the world that you had agreed. He knew that he was big, loud, clumsy, and at times, thought of himself as annoying. But you always been there, since day one of UA. He wasn’t as strong as some of the class, or as smart, but you saw past that, and saw him as being worthy of your company. He loved you. Everything about you he loved, the flaws, everything. Because you looked at him, with all of his flaws, and loved him. And he did the same.

After cleaning everything, the now fully red headed male plops himself onto your bed, his hair damp, but no longer soaking.

“Come on, you’d look good with red hair babe. We’d be a power couple. Best Pro-Hero couple around!” he grins, the sharp pearly whites of his teeth on display. “Come on-”

“Eijiro- I’m not dying my hair to match yours. I like it how it is”

“I like it the way it is too! But we’d look so good matching!”

“Eijiro-”

“At least just consider it?” You let out a small sigh at his words, thinking for a second, before speaking.

“Ill consider it. But you gotta go back to your dorm. Its almost curfew.”

“Can’t I stay again?” he whines, nuzzling his face into your shoulder, the damp feeling of his hair tickling your cheek as he does.

“If Aizawa-Sensi catches us out again, we’ll get in trouble. Ill see you in the morning, and theres the coffee date tomorrow remember?” The coffee date you two had been planning for over a week, finally having an open day at the same time.

He sighs, but sits up and finally pulls away, going to stand, “Okay- I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asks, and recieving a soft smile and nod from you, he turns, leaving your dorm to head to his, two doors down. Once the door shuts, and you can hear his door open and shut, you hop up from the bed, eagerly reaching for the spare box of red dye you had hidden under the bathroom sink. His shade of red.

He’s in for a nice surprise tomorrow.

[memeadonna]

The Kingdom of Roses

You are the princess of Rusika, a kingdom neighbouring Novoselic. When one of your government’s high ranking officials is taken as a political prisoner, your kingdom retaliates by taking some of your own -- and they just might be more than you bargained for. 

Hello Everybody! My name is Jess and I’ve been a longtime fan of Danganronpa, from around 2012 or 2013 when I first played the games. I wanted to try my hand at writing a reader insert for one of my favourite characters (and my first ever husbando), one Kazuichi Souda. This beautiful art really inspired me (I scoured high and low for an artist credit, but I couldn’t find one. If you know who drew it please let me know and I will give them the appropriate credit), and I wrote an x reader. I hope you all enjoy!  Warnings: This work contains NSFW not suitable for readers under 18. Please do not interact with this post if you are under 18. 

Monarchies were a dying form of government. Most countries had established parliaments by now, but the Kingdom of Rusika, where you were born, and a few neighbouring kingdoms held onto their royal families until the very end. Novoselic was one such kingdom, one that until a few days ago had been your ally. Your father – beloved king of Rusika – had sent one of his most trusted advisors to negotiate a trade deal with the Nevermind family, rulers of Novoselic.

That advisor had been captured and held at ransom for some unknown reason. The Novoselic Kingdom really had no idea what they were doing, did they?

Sonia Nevermind was someone you had grown up with. The two of you had never been friends, per se, but you understood one another. You were Princesses tasked with leading your kingdoms towards prosperity. Your countries were similar enough – they had once been one, but after a civil war in 926, the country had been divided in half. While Novoselic’s exports consisted of luxury goods – wine, chocolate, and cheese – Rusika’s were more practical. Your main exports were related to geothermal energy and associated technologies, or mining precious gems. Your country – the kingdom of roses – was building the future. Hers was stuck in the past, weighed down by stupid traditions.

Your father trusted you more than Sonia’s father trusted her, and so you had grown up with more responsibilities. You had learned early on the burdens of leadership, and eventually began to find her boring. You made sure she never caught on, always giving her your full attention whenever she rambled about her silly life and silly problems.

Both of your countries had hit economic booms, so what need was there to worry? Gah, her philosophy was so stupid.

Today you woke up to find that your father had arranged the kidnapping of two of Sonia’s closest friends. She had just graduated from the prestigious Hope’s Peak Academy, and had apparently invited her entire class to Novoselic to spend their last vacation celebrating.

It was strange of him to make such a decision without consulting you first. You were supposed to be queen of Rusika one day, and he always made sure you had a say in decisions. Today you were instructed to dress the part of a princess and come greet your guests. You were to show them hospitality and make them feel welcome. You might have kidnapped them, but you weren’t monsters. They would literally receive the royal treatment, and you were to be put in charge of them.

As your handmaidens helped you dress (corseting you, doing your hair and makeup, and fixing your jewelry could be a six-person job), you went over what you wanted to say to your prisoners. How the hell were you supposed to make them feel welcome?

You had never seen a person with two different coloured eyes before. You had also never seen a person with pink hair. Based on the way they looked at you, dripping in jewels and looking your part, you doubted they had seen Sonia in all of her glory yet. You smiled as you introduced yourself, trying your hardest not to look like you were studying them. You explained the situation to them, told them they were valuable political prisoners and would not be harmed or imprisoned as long as they behaved, and did not try to leave.

The man with two different coloured eyes called you a fiend, as well as many other dark names as he promised his Princess would come for him. The man with pink hair affirmed “Miss. Sonia will rescue me!” and shook his fist at you, trying his best not to look starstruck.

Eventually, you got their names out of them.

“How long will we be here?” Gundham asked you over dinner that night. “I wish to return home as soon as possible. I have responsibilities.”

Realistically, you knew it wouldn’t be a quick endeavour. You and Sonia had spent three months as prisoners in a neighbouring kingdom as Rusika and Novoselic had laid siege to the capitol. That was when you had learned she was boring. She kept to herself in her room, and almost seemed upset with you whenever you would negotiate with your captors, or walked the palace grounds like a free woman.

“As long as it takes” you answered coolly, glad that Japanese was one of the languages your family had forced you to learn. Members of the royal family having to speak thiry languages was one tradition that Rusika had kept from its time joined with Novoselic. It came in handy when negotiating with foreigners. “I cannot provide a clearer answer than that.”

“Don’t worry, Gundham,” Souda spoke up. “Sonia will come for us!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gundham spent most of his time observing the animals on your palace grounds. Your late mother had loved peacocks, so your father had taken up breeding them. She had loved many different animals when she had been alive, so the grounds weren’t exactly wanting. He enjoyed speaking with the vain birds, whistling and cooing until they would fan their elegant tails. His hamsters seemed to enjoy their accommodations too, with more seeds than they could have ever hoped to have eaten.

Souda, however, wanted to remain as unaffected as possible. He did his best to refuse any luxuries you offered him. It was only after you found out he had taken apart every electronic device in his room did you ask Gundham. The Ultimate Breeder had warmed up to you quickly, especially since you were the reason his hamsters were so well taken care of.

After Gundham cryptically told you about Souda, you gifted the Mechanic with a set of tools and new appliances to play with. Boredom could be so cruel, and the last thing you wanted was undue suffering.

Seeing him slip shyly into your study made your gift worth it. He was so awkward as he stumbled out a thanks, looking everywhere except your face. He was blushing and fiddling with a screwdriver as he spoke. “I still don’t trust you. You’re Miss. Sonia’s enemy,” he pointed his finger at you. “And any enemy of Miss. Sonia is an enemy of mine.”

“Would you like a workshop?” you asked him calmly. “I’m sure your room is a bit cluttered with all of those appliances. I just want to make your stay comfortable, I bear no ill will towards you, Mr. Souda.”

His cheeks flamed up and he stammered out a non-answer, shuffling out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Souda and Gundham had been with you a little over two weeks when the former finally cracked. He once more barged into your study, and looked you up and down. “I want somewhere to work,” he declared. He placed a crumpled piece of paper on your desk. “Here’s the list of everything I need.”

You saved the speech you were writing and logged off of your computer. “Come with me, Mr. Souda,” you stood gracefully, glad you no longer had to wear your ballgowns around him. It had always made you feel overdressed and obnoxious, especially considering he preferred to wear his jumpsuit rather than the clothes your country had provided him with. It had taken a lot to even convince him to let the servants wash the suit, let alone wear another while he waited.

In the end, you had commissioned seven identical jumpsuits for him, to match the one he already wore. At least he no longer reeked.

You paused at the door to the workshop you had set up for him. There was a guard stationed outside, but a nod from you dismissed him. Kazuichi’s eyes lit up as he observed all of the new-age tech he had to play with. He stammered out a bright-eyed thanks, and you gave him your brightest smile. You had done lots of research into what he would enjoy; he was your guest, not your prisoner. Right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a month, Novoselic struck up a deal with Rusika. A hostage for hostage trade: Gundham Tanaka for your father’s cherished advisor. Kazuichi had not been mentioned in the negotiations at all, something that did not sit right with you.

He tried to pretend that he wasn’t upset he had been forgotten, but it was obvious to anybody with half of a brain he was torn up. You made efforts to spend more time with him. You had him accompany you on walks around the castle’s garden, and even took him out of the palace for a few walks around town for a change of scenery. Nothing you said lifted his spirits. He barely even looked at you now.

You watched him tinkering with his toys, but even that seemed to have lost its shine for him. He looked so sad, so bored that it made you anxious.

“May I ask you something?” you questioned on one such walk. The two of you had been caught in the rain and had sought shelter underneath a quaint gazebo. He looked back at you with a curt nod. “How is your hair pink?”

He blinked at you for a moment before he burst out laughing. It was the first time since he had come to Rusika that he had laughed, and it made your cheeks flame up as he smiled at you.

“I dye it,” he told you after he calmed down. “I first bleach my hair to take the colour out, and then I use a dye to turn it pink.”

“Colour?” You blinked up at him. “What colour is your hair supposed to be?”

Instead of answering, he removed his beanie to reveal about an inch of jet-black hair growing in at his roots. Your eyes widened in wonder. “So, it must be bleached again on the new hair?” you asked.

“Yes,” he smiled at you dopily. “It has to be done every few months or the hair will grow in its natural colour.”

“Does it feel different?” you asked. “The pink and the black?” Instead of replying, he took your hand and placed it onto his hair. Your blush only deepened as you felt how soft it was, and noticed his cheeks were bright red too as you pulled away. “Do you wish to turn your hair pink again? I will send for my stylist.”

He smiled at you, soft but genuine. “I’d really like that. Then I’ll feel a bit more like me,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you doing?” Souda peeked over your shoulder. You smiled tiredly up at him and you stretched as subtly as you could. You had been taking daily walks with him for several weeks now, and he would always drop by every few hours to see how you were doing, or to show off his latest invention.

“I’m looking at the schematics for a new geothermal energy plant,” you answered. “I’m trying to sort out how we can make our energy extraction more efficient.”

Kazuichi looked over the blueprints on your laptop screen. “I’d have to do the calculations, but if you merged these two pipes here-” he pointed. “-you would cut down significantly on the energy wasted.”

“Pull up a chair,” you told him. “Let’s take a look together, shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kazuichi had been in your care for three months now, and he hardly acted like a prisoner. He called you “Miss” (probably because you called him Mr. Souda), and tended to barge in on you whenever he wanted. He had repaired the castle’s heating system, boosted your internet connection, and even helped you overhaul the design of your new energy plants. These plants would be 46% more efficient than the last schematic, something that amazed you. You told him repeatedly how marvellous he was, if only to see his face light up.

Lately, he had started wearing the jumpsuits your family had initially provided him with – similar to his old one but stamped with your country’s crest on the back – and had been a bit more… touchy than before. He would put a hand on the small of your back while you walked, or gently brush a lock of hair from your face as the two of you had tea.

You were not experienced in the slightest with intimacy or wanting to be in a relationship – you were certain you would learn that after you became queen – but now he was all you could think about. You knew the basics, knew what to expect from a man, but your heart was uncharted territory. You had never loved someone before, and some deep-seated fear in your heart was worried he would think you were taking advantage of him.

“I was in love with her, you know,” he told you one day while you were out for a walk. The two of you were once more caught in the rain and taking shelter in the same gazebo. “I loved Sonia.” Sonia. Not Miss. Sonia.

“Did it hurt?” you asked back, and immediately felt stupid for asking. It was none of your business, why did you want to know?

“I guess?” he shrugged. “I don’t – she never treated me like I mattered. She made me feel like I was nothing. Just a pest. Like I was disposable.”

“Sonia is a fool,” you told him. You meant it, of course you did, but at that moment you just wanted him to smile. “Your contributions will certainly leave their marks on this world. You are a remarkable person with a remarkable talent. Anybody who would overlook you is an utter fool.”

Kazuichi reached into his pocket and pulled out a small speaker. He set it on the railing, and it began to play a soft, slow song. “Will you dance with me?” he asked shyly.

“Of course,” you smiled at him, holding out your hand for him to take.

His steps were sloppy and uncoordinated, but the feeling of his warm body in your arms made you feel safe. You wanted him to love you. Love you the way he loved Sonia, and then even more. A legendary love that would eclipse all others.

When he leaned down to kiss you, you automatically tilted you head to the side. It felt like the first time and the thousandth time all at once – something new and exciting, yet undeniably right. He grinned at you like an idiot and kept swaying with you while the song ended.

“It all feels perfect with I’m with you,” he told you. “Like it all makes sense.”

“I understand,” you smiled up at him. “I feel the same way too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He barely left your side now. He would let you work, of course, but wanted to spend his every waking hour with you. He held your hand on your walks, kissed your knuckles like a gentleman whenever he greeted you, and kissed you passionately when you were alone with him. You loved watching him light up at your presence – it was like his world began and ended with you.

His greatest joy was when he got to work with you. To see you listening carefully to his advice, offering insights of your own based on your knowledge. You worked to improve both your geothermal energy plants and plan for new mines. The number of precious stones mined this year was astronomical, and it wasn’t over yet.

Your father was impressed with the improvements he had made to the schematics he had been provided with, so he was gradually given more and more responsibility (along with his freedom, of course). Eventually, he began to receive an “allowance” as payment for the work he was doing. He spent most of it on new gadgets to tinker with or gifts for you. You would often retire to your room to find a vase full of flowers or a box of chocolates, and every time you saw them you would break out into a grin you could not stop.  

The two of you would text one another (he made himself a cellphone because he was “bored and wanted to try it”) until you fell asleep, and within those words he bared his soul. He told you about his horrific home life – about the man who had dared to harm him – and about the friends who had betrayed him. He told you how much you mattered to him, all of the things he would do for you. Give up for you.

When he told you about his father hitting him one too many times, you left your room and went to his. You just needed to hold him, make him feel safe the same way he made you feel safe.

You were glad you went when you did, because there was a woman dressed in black trying to drag him out of the window. You raised the security alarm, and she was apprehended. Mukuro Ikusaba – the Ultimate Soldier – was thrown into your actual prison, and you once more had trouble with Novoselic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You answered the door with bleary eyes, but seeing Souda’s tired smile as he mumbled about not sleeping was worth it. You used your new nickname for him – the word in your mother tongue that meant little pink rose – and he melted into your arms. You didn’t care that you were wearing your nightgown, or that it was early in the morning, you had your prince charming and he was safe, and he was yours. Yours.

“I had a nightmare,” he was curled up among your pillows, snuggled up under your blankets. “You forgot about me like she did.”

“I’m not her,” you reminded him, pressing a kiss to his forehead before resting your own against it. You could feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips, and as you let your eyes slip shut your hands found his. “I will never think of you as less than extraordinary, my darling.” You promised.

He kissed your cheek, slowly painting his way over your cheekbones and down to your lips. You responded wonderfully, one hand cupping his cheek as you kissed him slowly. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you with pure adoration. He wasn’t wearing his contacts, and his eyes were a light, rosy brown colour. Stunning.

“I love you,” the words slipped out of your mouth unbidden. You were speaking in your mother tongue now, but based on the smile he gave you and the whisper of “Ai shiteru” you got in return, he had understood. More than understood.

Your lips met his again, a strange kind of hunger filling you. He must have felt the change too, the atmosphere crackling with energy as you traced your fingers over his body. As he traced his fingers over yours.

You both stripped completely and held one another, clumsy and laughing and so in love. “Tell me if it hurts,” he had whispered to you as he stretched you open with his fingers. You had kissed him in response, a smiling sort of kiss that you hope conveyed more than a simple “I love you”.

Your lovemaking didn’t last long, but it didn’t have to to be perfect. It felt like it was right out of a fairy tale, and your prince charming was here to save you from everything bad in the world. You were here to save him, in reality, but you were more than happy to indulge him in his fantasies, so long as you could play a part in them.

When you were done, he wrapped you in his arms and placed a kiss to your temple. He hummed softly and played with your hair, whispering his love over and over again. You smiled up at him, tired but satisfied, and when you fell asleep your smile did not falter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since that night you had shared, Kazuichi had been coming to your bed every night. You would fall asleep together and wake up together and talk until you couldn’t anymore. When you weren’t talking, you were either cuddling or doing something less… innocent. Your mouth had mapped out every inch of his body, and you knew what to do to make him open like a flower. He liked letting you do what you wanted to him – liked giving over the power and control and letting you make him feel good.

He loved it when you spoke to him in your mother tongue – no matter what you said he would squirm and turn bright red.

“Do you like it when I play with your pretty cock?” you asked him lowly, and he let out a sweet moan as his legs fell open. He could tell from the sound of your voice if you were being sweet to him or not, and you could tell based on the noises he made if he wanted you to be sweet or not.

You wondered what fantasies swept him away as you mounted him. When you pinned his wrists and mouthed at his neck, you wondered why he was mewling so much. Did he even know what he was begging you for anymore, or did his mind just go blank every time you began to kiss his scars?

You learned every embarrassing detail about his body, and he learned every detail of yours. He loved to have you on him – worshipping him, taking pleasure from his body – but what he loved most were the quiet moments after.

The moments when you would roll off of him and kiss him slowly and tell him how good he was. When you would worship every scar again, tell him he was beautiful. When he’d lay his head in your lap so you could weave your fingers into his hair and hum him lullabies. He always fell asleep in your bed after you made love. It was one of the most perfect moments you ever shared, and you felt so, so lucky to have shared so many of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today you woke up alone. Novoselic had finally sent an envoy to negotiate Kazuichi’s release. Today was the day.

Last night, he had helped you pick out your gown. He had chosen a white one with ruffles designed to look like flowers – Rusika was the kingdom of roses, after all – and as your handmaidens helped you get ready, you felt powerful.

You went all out – you wore your crown jewels and covered yourself in diamonds. You did not want there to be any doubt that they were dealing with a princess and would negotiate on her terms. Your father had been surprised when you had asked for this responsibility but granted you the negotiation opportunity.

Mukuro Ikusaba was wearing several chains, including a rather nasty-looking pair of handcuffs. She was positioned in a chair facing towards your throne, and she glared at you as you took your seat.

Kazuichi arrived only a few minutes after you, and his jaw just about hit the floor as he took you in. You gave him a smile befitting a queen as your eyes roamed his body – he was wearing a finely tailored suit and a ring with your family’s crest on it. You realized then you wanted to cover him in jewels. He would look so good sparkling.

He bowed deeply before taking his place at your side, breaking you from your train of thought. It was an old Novoselic tradition for the ruler’s consort to kneel on a special stool while the monarch conducted business, but while Kazuichi did kneel on the plush cushion, he tugged it towards you so he could lie across your lap. The action startled you at first, but as he snuggled deeper into your skirts and looked up at you with a smile, your fingers came up to weave into his hair in the way he found comforting, and he closed his eyes.

That lasted for a blissful minute before the throne room’s doors burst open and Princess Sonia Nevermind was announced. Her entourage filed in with her, and Souda tilted his head to get a better view of them. You recognized Gundham, and vaguely recalled hearing about a few of the others from Kazuichi. Classmates, if you remembered correctly.

Sonia had brought the Yakuza boy and the Ultimate Swordswoman as backup. She had also brought a hulking man with matching scars over both of his eyes. This man was someone you had never heard of, yet he was flanked by the usual Novoselic military honour guard. You greeted her in your shared tongue before switching to Japanese. “Welcome. What brings you all to Rusika?” you asked.

The princess of Novoselic cleared her throat and began once more in your mother tongue. “Apologies for interrupting, Princess Nevermind, but not everybody here speaks our language. I would like to include our guests in the matters we will be discussing,” Souda shifted in your lap, and you continued playing with his hair, sitting with the elegance of a queen.

Sonia began again, in Japanese this time. “I demand you release your prisoners at once,” she pointed at you. “Keeping a soldier hired by my country to retrieve a prisoner does not reflect well on the alliance between our peoples. I would hate for a war to break out.”

You sighed. “As a show of good faith, I will release the prisoner Mukuro Ikusaba to you,” you made a gesture and a pair of guards removed her shackles. You could feel Souda playing with your ruffles. “Was that all?”

“We are here for the prisoner Kazuichi Souda,” she answered. “I demand you release him.”

“Kazuichi is not a prisoner,” you corrected. “He has full autonomy and can choose to leave anytime he would like.”

“You kidnapped him as a political prisoner!” Sonia snapped, eyes locked on him. “Do not tell me that he is doing… that of his own free will!”

You gave his shoulder a pat with the hand that had been in his hair and he blinked over at Sonia. “I have done nothing malicious towards him,” you answered. “I have not-”

“Liar!” Sonia cut in. “You must have brainwashed him with Stockholm. You truly are a woman with flexible legs!”

Kazuichi raised his head a bit. “Don’t talk to my Princess like that!” there was a certain bite to his words. You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair as he glared at Sonia. “Gundham knows as well as I do that we were never mistreated here. We were given free reign, and I just so happened to be appreciated. I’m not a second choice here. I’m not forgotten.”

Sonia looked visibly upset at his words. “We did not forget you!” she assured him.

“You rescued Gundham after a month? A few weeks?” Kazuichi was bristling. “I’ve been here for eight. Eight months and you didn’t even bother to see if I was okay.” Sonia watched Kazuichi lie back down. “Excuse me for being happy. I forgot you don’t like it when I’m too overbearing with my affection.” He shifted around for comfort, burying his face in the crook of his elbow before tilting it out to the crowd.

“Is he truly able to leave anytime he wants?” Gundham asked.

“I am,” Kazuichi bristled once again. “I’ve got a job and everything.”

Sonia said your name. No title, just your name. “I would like to speak with you in private, future monarch to future monarch,” she was clenching her hands into fists.

“I’ll allow it,” you gave Kazuichi a gentle pat on the shoulder and he reluctantly pulled away. You stood, and he stood with you. He followed you down from your throne, and as you escorted Sonia towards your study you noticed Kazuichi was making a beeline for Gundham.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you were alone again, the first thing Kazuichi did was help you out of your dress. He was careful as he unlaced your corset, and as he helped you step out of it. He even hung it up properly so it wouldn’t get damaged. Then he was kissing you like he was about to lose you, pulling your body close and pulling you into his arms. He carried you over to the bed and tossed you into it, discarding his own clothes haphazardly as he followed.

“I love you,” he told you assuredly. “And nothing is ever going to change that. Not a single thing they say will convince me otherwise.”

You smiled at his words. “And I love you too, my little pink rose,” you gave him a deep, longing kiss.

It didn’t matter what the others thought or said. It didn’t matter what they did. All that mattered was what you and Souda thought. Souda was here with you. Souda loved you.

And no matter who decided to challenge that, they couldn’t take him away from you.

[boxofbadaddiction]

Those Three Little Words

Fred Weasley x Reader

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 10 & 11

"Until I was 25, I thought the only response to 'I love you' was 'Oh, crap!'"/"Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha."

Warnings: Swearing (per usual). Anxiety. Toxic Family. Emotional Trauma(?). Angsty. Post-War.

The War had been a sick wakeup call for Fred. He'd lived his life carefree and reckless, as he figured each day were a given. Mess up today it didn't matter because there was always tomorrow. He would strut through life as if he were invincible because, well, he always seemed that way. But death has a funny way of reshuffling ones priorities. A way of shedding light on what truly matters in your life.

Fred never considered himself as someone who lacked ambition. Frankly George and he never seemed to let anything hold them back. However, these days Fred could very well give Slytherins a run for their money - something George frequently teased him about. If there were something he wanted Merlin himself couldn't get in his way.

Not only in the case of work but his personal life as well. In love. And there was only one woman on Earth he loved. [Y/N].

He knew he loved her before the war. Before Umbridge drove him from Hogwarts in their final year. Before she left him.

It was only shortly prior, the boys epic departure, that [Y/N] had made the decision to call it quits. She knew their lives were destined to pull them in opposite directions and she never put much stock in long distance relationships. So, with a final kiss and a wish good luck, she walked out of his life. Albeit not completely.

After graduation she kept loosely in touch with the Twins, they had been friends after all, even visiting their shop on the off occasion when she could swing it. Although she was often far too busy to stay for long. Eventually she was relocated overseas for work, this officially terminating any of the limited contact had between the three.

The next time they would be in each others presence was the ill-fated battle.

[Y/N] had been keeping tabs on the events leading up to the fight. Even engaging in missions on behalf of the Order when necessary. She had proved quite a valuable asset. In the days before all Hell broke loose [Y/N] returned to Britian on 'urgent family matters' and of course she fought.

When Fred saw her again after so many years the rush of feelings that coursed through his body were nearly enough to knock him off balance. She was still so gorgeous. The [E/C] of her eyes reminding him just how deeply he loved her. Just how much he needed her. And he knew. Just knew she felt the same.

He saw it in the little things she did for him. Saw it in the tears of her eyes. In the way she broke down in his Hospital room when he finally woke, a fortnight, after his accident. Heard it in the tremble of her voice. In her 'I thought I lost you's. In the way she clung to him. He was so relieved she was okay and so happy to finally have her back in his life. Until suddenly...she wasn't anymore.

Recovery was Freds life now, but that wasn't hers. She was still needed elsewhere and as much as he wished she would stay he knew she couldn't. She still had a life left living. It were a miracle she managed to stay as long as she had. So...she left. And he wouldn't see her again for years. Six. To be exact.

Recovery had taken years from Fred. It was two and a half years before he could consider himself independent. After all that time wasted he wasn't about to let anything stand in his way. So when news carried to his ears that [Y/N] was back living in London, permanently, that after six years he could see her again, there was nothing holding him back.

In a second he'd apparated to her doorstep. Knocking on the withered wood door. Listening to the faint patter of approaching footsteps. Hearing the gentle click of the locks tumblers as they turned. Watching the steady swing of the door as it opened. Feeling the prick of burning tears behind his eyes as he stared back into her questioning gaze. Pulling her body into his as their lips collided. Relishing in the warmth that spread through his blood as she kissed back. Clung back. Loved him back. Everything he poured into her she gave right back. He swore right in that moment that he'd never let her go again. They'd wasted so much time already.

Over a year later the two could not have been deeper in love. She'd moved into the boys flat mere months after he appeared at her door. It's what Fred wanted, and Fred always gets what he wants.

Fred and Georges business had picked up quite quickly after the war. Fred insisted George begin work on the restorations while he recovered. Saying he wanted everything back in full swing by the time he was upright, to pick right back where he left off. George was sure he simply didn't fancy cleaning it himself and saw recovery as a pretty convenient excuse. Fred didn't deny his brothers claim.

They'd managed to open a second store in Hogsmead and were currently renovating the original store. Expanding the flat and lower levels. This saw the three residents temporarily relocating to the Burrow for a few days as the work was completed. Molly had insisted, saying the house were 'far too quiet' for her liking. Which was hard to believe as Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Harry all currently lived there. Of course Bill and Fleur, as well as Percy had all moved out ages ago, and Charlie was back living in Romania. Still, it beats paying accommodation elsewhere. And they couldn't deny that spending time back in their childhood home was enjoyable. It felt warm and safe and familiar, like the war had never happened and they were all just spending time together as a family.

As dinner approached on their third day home [Y/N] and Harry could be found helping prepare tonights meal, under the careful instruction of Mrs Weasley, while the rest sat comfortably within the sitting room fondly reminiscing their times spent together just like they were now.

The group were laughing haughtily at a certain memory George had recalled in which [Y/N] turned Rons entire bedroom hot pink with the Twins 'Everlasting Dye', after he thought it'd be funny to turn her hair a similar shade. Much like [Y/N]'s hair the dye hadn't faded for well over a fortnight as the Twins found the whole thing all too funny and refused them the instant remover.

"God, I love her." Fred smiled brightly at the memory, "I'm going to marry that woman." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Sure she likes you that much?" Ginny quipped.

"Certain, dear Sister." Ginny simply nodded a look of uncertainty on her face. "What's that look for?" "Nothing." "Ginny." "well it's just...she doesn't really say it much does she?" "'Course she does. What are you on about?" "I just don't think I've ever actually heard her say she loves you before." "It's not like you're 'round us 24/7 now is it?" Fred scoffed, shaking off his sisters comment.

George meanwhile was staring towards the ceiling, brows furrowed as he contemplated Ginnys words deeply before letting out a low "hmmp" as realisation struck.

"Oh, what now?" Fred rolled his attention toward his Twin. "Nothing it's just I can't think of a time I've heard her say it either." Ginny had a look of 'I told you so' blatantly obvious on her face while Ron and Hermione thought hard on the topic as well. Freds gaze shifted quickly between his gathered family.

"Oh, so what if you've never heard it. Point is I have. And I know she loves me so it doesn't matter. But if you all must! Here," he leant back in his chair calling into the kitchen "Hey, [Y/N/N]!" "Yeah, Freddie?" She walked toward him with a loving smile. "I love you" [Y/N]'s smile faded instantly as she raised a suspicious brow, "What'd you do?" "What!?" Fred asked shocked as the eavesdroppers giggled. "No. Nothing, really! I just wanted to tell you I love you." "Oh...well I know that" she smiled, kissing him softly. Fred gave her an expectant look as she stood back. "...what?" "you love me too, yeah?" "Of course I do." There was a determination behind her words. Almost as if she were insulted by his question, to which the answer were painstakingly obvious. She soothingly ran a hand through his hair, "I've got to get back in there and help your Mother before Harry burns everything." She joked, placing a final quick kiss to his lips. He watched her leave a giddy smile on his face before turning back to his nosey family.

"See. Told you." He laid back in his seat confidently. The group all shared tight lipped, awkward, smiles. "Oh, what?!" "It's just she didn't really say it, did she?" George spoke. "Yeah she did. I asked her and she said 'yes'. End of conversation." "But she didn't actually say the words; 'I love you'." Ginnys voice intervened. "She doesn't have to." "Shouldn't it be sort of automatic?" "Like you and Harry say it every time." He rolled his eyes. "Pretty much" Ginny nodded, earning an unconvinced scoff from her brother. "Here, watch."

Ginny mirrored Freds earlier movements, calling to the kitchen, "Hey, Harry!" "Yeah, Gin?" Harry came to his fiancès call. She smiled up at him sweetly, "I love you". Harry looked around the group a little uncomfortable and unsure but smiled nonetheless. "I love you too" he placed a quick kiss to her temple. "Right, that's all I wanted you can go now." Ginny turned back in her chair as Harry walked away very confused.

"Automatic." She gestured widely with her hands, a triumphant look on her face. "Oh piss off." Fred scowled. "Doesn't matter if she 'says the words' or not. I know she loves me. Doesn't bother me." "Good for you, Freddie." Ron spoke encouragingly. "So you're on my side?" "Absolutely!" "It wouldn't bother you if Hermione never-" "oh GOD no! She has to say the words. I need the reassurance." He looked up to his girlfriend, who in turn lovingly took his hand in hers.

"Alright. So it's a little strange. But I bet I can have her saying it before we leave." "In four days?" George questioned, sceptical. "Yep. I'll make her." "How romantic. With charm like that it's a wonder why she hasn't said it already." His Twin chuckled. "Why don't you just talk to her about it? Maybe there's a reason." Hermione piped. "Nah. My ways better." Fred shook his head, tapping his knees lightly as he thought.

And so began, what Fred would soon discover to be, the most difficult challenge he'd ever attempted.

It started out simply enough; with a few added 'I love you's here and there. Whether the moment called for it or not. Although after the war Fred had become notably more vocal in expressing his love towards family and friends, he kicked it up a notch in an attempt to coax those very words from the mouth of his partner. Quickly escalating to more grand and romantic gestures.

The first was a ridiculously large bouquet of vividly yellow roses. Moving onto a private picnic for two atop the Hill which rested behind the Burrow. At sunset he had dragged [Y/N] from the home to where he laid a blanket and candles, with soft music playing in the background, as well as having organised a platter of all their favourite foods. Ending the meal rather...intimately. During which he was sure to further praise her and whisper sweet, loving words in her ear. Telling her just how much he loved her.

His constant showering of affection had granted him plenty of appreciation in return. His words always being met with the usual "I do too"s and "Me too"s even a couple "Dittos" they always had, though he was yet to receive any "I love you"s. Which hadn't bothered him before, but now was proving to be mildly infuriating and very disheartening, really.

Failure wasn't something Fred was used to anymore. To think he was unable to get his long term partner to say those three little words was quickly making him uncomfortable.

By the fourth and final morning, since setting himself this little challenge, Fred was spent. He was sure he'd tried everything. Grand gestures. Romantic dates. Surprise kisses. Great sex. He had even seriously considered proposing, as a last resort. But these were not the circumstances in which he wanted to do so under, when he did he wanted it to be perfect. Maybe the Imperius - NO! no. Too drastic.

Why was nothing working? Suddenly Ginnys amusing quip wasn't so funny anymore and struck a vein far too close to home. Was it possible he was wrong and she simply didn't feel the same way?

All manner of sickeningly worrisome thoughts began to flood through his mind as he lay awake. He starred at the woman he loved so fiercely, so passionately, he could swear she were the only reason his heart kept bleeding.

He watched her as she slept peacefully, tucked tight against his chest, whilst he absent-mindedly stroked her hair, contemplating a reality which he much rather never come true. One in which she didn't love him.

He used to be so sure but now...now he was terrified. He'd never thought much on what form his Boggart would assume if he ever were to face one. He knew in this moment though that is exactly what shape it would take. Her.

She'd approach him slowly. An evil grin and amused brow raised upon her features. She'd tell him what a fool he was. How stupid he was to ever think a woman like her could love a boy like him. That she only stayed with him out of pity. How humiliated and desperate he seemed that day on her doorstep. How it would have been better if he had just given up, never fought to survive after the explosion. How much better it'd have been if he just died in War. She could have found real love, lived a happy life away from the embarrassing one she led with him in it.

Tears burned red in the whites of his eyes as his chest shuddered with every quickened and panicking breath he took. His heart thundering in his ears as the room began to spin. He was suffocating. Sweat streamed down his temples. He had to get out. Escape.

Sliding as quickly and carefully as he could from beneath the covers without disturbing the sleeping woman in his bed, he took for the shower. Praying the steam would unfog his mind. That the water would wash away his doubts and anxiety.

The whole time he tried to rationalise why [Y/N] wouldn't say the words. Reassuring himself that it didn't matter. Shouldn't matter. He left the bathroom long after the water had run cold feeling only moderately better than when he'd entered. At least now he had a modicum of control over his body. His emotions on the other hand...

He slowly descended the steps of his childhood home, face emotionless, to the sound of light chatter and clinking of various dishes. Everyone was already gathered around the table eating breakfast.

"Ah, there you are!" George announced as Fred entered the kitchen, "clean now are we? Thought you'd must have drowned in there." He joked. Fred offered a light chuckle and forced smile as he sat himself between his Twin and partner. "What's this the wake then?"

[Y/N] leant into his side, placing a kiss to his cheek as her hand traced circles on his lower back. "Morning, Hun" she murmured tenderly, chin resting against his shoulder as she peered up at him. He didn't look at her, simply humming in response. His hand briefly came to squeeze her thigh before quickly retracting. This did little to evoke a sense of ease within his significant other.

Over the eighteen months they'd shared together [Y/N] had long since become accustomed to his dramatic morning greetings. Usually, as they'd wake up together, it'd involve him peppering her face and neck in countless kisses before joining George for breakfast. On days when they'd wake to find themselves alone under the covers, the other having obviously awoke long ago, he'd surprise her. Lifting her off her feet and spinning her through the air then, placing her back down, kissing her deeply.

The only times she'd seen him like this were nights when his dreams had been plagued with flashbacks from the Battle. She assumed he'd slept peacefully. He hadn't had any nightmares in months and would usually, unintentionally, wake her during them. "You okay, Freddie?" "Yeah."

Totally convincing.

The rest of the day Fred was cold. To everyone but [Y/N] especially. He was having difficulty even looking at her. She'd tried talking with him but he insisted there was nothing the matter. Didn't keep her from worrying.

After dinner everyone moved into the lounge, engaging in various bits of conversation. Everyone aside from Fred. No one was sure when he'd disappeared but his absence was noted nonetheless. [Y/N] was the one to search for him. Found standing within the garden over looking the sunset.

She could see the discontent held in his body, the way he stood so rigid. The hollow expression on his features, completely devoid of any emotion. It hurt her seeing him this way.

"Hey, You." She spoke hesitantly. Fred turned at the sound of her voice. Watching her standing tentatively before him as if unsure whether or not her presence was welcome. "Hey, You" he smiled sadly back, his frame visibly relaxing at the sight of her. "We're all missing you in there. What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" [Y/N] said softly as she approached him, arms snaking around his waist. His hands fell to her lower back and pulled her into his body ever more so. "Just needed a bit of quiet to think" "'Think', huh?" He hummed in response. "That's never good" she grinned making him laugh lightly. "No, it isn't." He placed a slow kiss to her lips.

Breaking it shortly after as he teased, "So, you missed me?" "Every second you're not by my side I do." He rested his forehead against hers, their eyes falling shut contently. Fred exhaled comfortably,"I love you" "I do too" [Y/N] replied. "What love you?" Fred straightened himself with a cheeky expression on his face which was mirrored on that of his partners. "Stop it." "I'm serious." "You know what I mean" "Do I?".

[Y/N] had another quip ready on the tip of her tongue until noticing that cheery look he held had vanished and they were no longer standing in one anothers embrace. Her face dropped at the sight if a completely serious Fred Weasley stood in front of her. Awaiting the answer to a question she didn't fully understand. "Whats gotten into you?" She took a step toward him, to which, he took one back. "Do you love me?" "Of course I do!" "Then why don't you say it?" "I don't know what you're -" "you never say it." "I just did." "No, you agreed to a question I asked." "It's the same thing." "It's not."

The two were practically talking on top of one another. "Just...say it." He took a step towards her, to which, she took one back. "If I say it now it'll be forced and it may as well not mean anything." "Why can't you just say it!?" He snapped, more asking himself the question than her. But he needed to ask. He wasn't yelling at her but a part of [Y/N] wished he would. "I know you love me. Or at least I thought I did. I just...I need to hear you say it because sometimes I can't help but wonder - please just. Say it." Staring into her eye's pleadingly, hers stared right back in apology. "Fred..." "Forget it." He turned from her. "Fred, baby" her hand reached for his shoulder as his own ran through his hair in frustration whilst his jaw clenched. "I can't. I can't be near you right now." He shook his head, storming off towards the Hill. Ignoring her frantic, begging calls.

[Y/N] stood rooted to the spot from shock. This was one of the first fights the pair had had, and she wasn't even sure what brought it on. There'd been minor squabbles between them out of stress from work or other things but never something like this. They had such an open relationship it never got to this point, any concerns either held was always voiced and discussed. Why was this time different?

As she watched his figure slowly disappear amongst the dark as night was soon to fall, she made her decision. This time wasn't going to be different. They were going to talk about it whether he cared to or not. Even if that meant her admitting somethings she'd very much hoped never have to. So, she set off after him.

Fred stood with his back against the trunk of an old tree which grew tall on top the Hill. One hand in his pocket as the other ran his fingers over the markings carved into it's wood by the Weasley family. One engraving in particular. A relatively fresh one where he had carved [Y/N]s name next to his own last Christmas to "officially" mark her as apart of the family.

He recalled the moment vividly. How she questioned his actions, wondering if he'll still love her the same 'down the road', not to regret this decision. "Nah, you're right. I won't love you the same. I'll love you more." He'd said. "But the real question is; will you love me, or are you just going to break my heart?" To be honest. He truly hadn't expected the latter.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the approaching sound of footsteps. Turning his head he rolled his eyes upon realising it was her. "Not now." He growled. "Yes now." She shot back at him standing firm in place.

She'd planned a whole monologue on the walk to him but now that she was here, eyes meeting his, she hadn't a damn clue what to say.

"Until I was 25, I thought the only response to 'I love you' was 'oh, crap!'" She blurted out. Fred looked at her quizzically as the words settled in the air. [Y/N]'s eyes shut for a moment, kicking herself. That wasn't how she intended for the conversation to go. "I'm-I can't say the words" she began again to which Fred scoffed. "Yeah. I gathered that much." "Fred, just shut the fuck up, and listen to me!" Her stare shot daggers into the boy and he found his attention unwavering from her words.

"I didn't have a normal upbringing. I didn't get what you have. I came from a family where love was a weapon. A tool for manipulation. Something that was withheld until you were useful. Something used to excuse shitty behaviour. I didn't get the warm Christmases and intimacy you got. Before you I wasn't sure I knew what love was. My whole life had been cold. Then when you showed up at my door that day it was like hot blood began pumping through my body for the first time. You felt like life when my whole existence has been death. That's when I knew I couldn't live without you. When I knew that I...I can't say it. The words. But not just to you, I can't say them to anyone. It feels unnatural like there's a rope tied around my throat and it suffocates me. And it kills me a little bit. To look into your eyes and know that I - that I still can't - may never ... fuck. I-" [Y/N]s hand came to cover her eyes as tears fell and heartbroken sobs escaped her body.

Fred reacted on instinct, by her side in a second, pulling her into his chest. A hand gripped her back as the other fisted into her hair. "I'm sorry" she cried as he soothed her.

Fred was fighting sobs of his own, feeling as her body shudder against his and she clung to him for support. Because if she didn't her knees would buckle and she'd fall.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I-I had no idea this was...look at me." He held her shoulders taking half a step back to look at her. "I don't care if you never say the words." "But then why-" "I listened to the opinions of four prats who had no business sticking their noses in our relationship." [Y/N] chuckled sadly, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Before they said anything I honestly hadn't noticed because I knew, I know you love me. You don't have to tell me because you show me. It's in your kiss. In your eyes. Your laugh. Your nostrils as they flare when you yell at me after successfully pissing you off. Never be sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up over nothing. Okay?" [Y/N] nodded in response, unable to form a sentence. Smiling sweetly his hand came to caress below her jaw."I love you." "Now you're just rubbing it in." Fred laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips.

He's pulling away before [Y/N]s pulling him back by the collar of his shirt for a deep and passionate one. Soon breaking in dire need for air.

Her chest is heaving as she catches her breath. His eyes fall shut, pressing his head against hers gently. [Y/N]s eyes are searching his face. Why can't she just tell him? The words, those three stupid little words, are right there tearing at her throat. Wanting to be said. This is real. He is not her parents, not her toxic 'family'. He's Fred. Sweet, caring Fred. Her one and only. He's different.

She swallows hard, mouth going dry, as that familiar tightening takes hold. Trying desperately to rid herself of that strangling sensation that plagues her a trillion times a day. She's staring at him, panic coursing through her bloodstream. Her eyes clench shut as she tries to muster as much strength as she can. "I-" the words are right there. Her voice barely a whisper as she fights that rope. "I love you." [Y/N] gasps for air as a knot in the rope snaps. Eyes widening as her chest shudders before she's smiling. Fresh tears falling in relief and joy.

Fred's eyes spring open, gawking. Did she just...is he-did he imagine that? No. There's no way. "You...you-" "I love you." Her voice louder this time, more assured as a second knot snaps. He doesn't know how to react. Body and mind still processing.

Soon though he's grinning like a madman, spinning her in his arms, feeling happier than he thought possible. Placing her back on the ground both hands cup her face as his lips crash into hers.

They stay like that for a while, in one anothers arms. [Y/N]s kissing him tenderly as she pulls back to whisper the words once more, "I love you." He smiles cockily down at her before his expression shifts to one of mock surprise. "Oh, crap!" he laughs as [Y/N] rolls her eyes. "Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha. You're such a bastard." She turns to walk off but he grabs her arm. Spinning her back against his chest as his other hand comes to the nape of her neck.

"Not so fast, Princess." He licks his lips smirking, voice low "say it again." She bites her lip suppressing a wide smile. "I love you." He places one final kiss before a wicked grin spreads over his face and he's quickly throwing her over his shoulder.

"Come on, love!" He starts running for the Burrow. "FRED!" [Y/N] squeals. "No time to waste! I told them I'd have to saying it before we leave." "You...oh my god, FRED! Did you place a bet on me!? You absolute GIT!"

"Love you too, sweetheart."

[plounce]

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

[appalachianselkie]

Old ways

I learned a ridiculous amount at the country life and folklore museum. We had our first tour guide who was a woman, which was extremely refreshing I have to admit. You could tell that she had a much greater depth of knowledge than any of the men we have had before, and I think this is due to having the broader perspective of being a woman in society. Women studying history (or anything) also have to develop a much more adept critical thinking lens to sort through all the bullshit that men serving the patriarchy have completely made up to support their own worldview. She readily admitted that there is so much we don’t know about the folk practices of women throughout Irish history because the ethnographers collecting the information were mostly christian men who had no interest in such topics. However, there are some aspects of women’s culture that survived. Dairy and egg processing and sale were largely viewed as women’s work, and a woman could actually make more money selling these things than the average male farmer. To distinguish between different sellers in the market the butter would be stamped with an insignia often related to the family farm. The museum had many of these on display bearing images of strawberries, oak leaves, or a geometric pattern meant to keep witches away. There was one with an eye design meant to ward off the evil eye from others. Fear of the evil eye was very prevalent throughout Ireland throughout the ages. If a person or animal was looked at with envy or malice by someone with the evil eye, all of their good fortune could fade away. The main apotropaic symbol used was simply the color red, so red clothes and dyes were widespread, made with madder or cochineal. Many children’s clothes were dyed red to protect against changelings, which were malevolent Daoine Sidhe who would kidnap children and replace them with a nearly identical faery version of the child. Interestingly, it was common for young boys to be dressed in girl’s clothes until the age of ten to protect them from being taken. This can be interpreted as a sign that girls weren’t as valued and therefore less likely to be taken, or as an example of the protective powers of femininity. The changeling legend can be explained today as a way for people to understand mental illness or neurodivergency. The descriptions we have of changeling children often match those with what we call autism today, with some being non-verbal or anti-social. Post-partum depression was also a likely diagnosis, with many mothers being accused of being changelings following childbirth.

As with all folklore, these myths are ways for individuals to understand the world around them without the aid of modern science. But oftentimes, there is science behind the superstition. For example, severed legs from diseased cows were often found in the rafters of barns. While seemingly morbid, this might have actually served to immunize the entire herd from the infected cow’s disease. In the harsh reality of Irish history (as well as the extremely harsh ecological conditions) it’s no surprise that people throughout history have constructed elaborate explanations, superstitions, and religions to make sense of the world around them. These practices grant a sense of agency to the user, by offering them a feeling of control over the random world around them.

[utanoprince-imagines]

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

Prompt: Soulmate AU where the person sees in colour once they lock eyes with their soulmate

Character(s): Otoya/Tokiya

Genre: Slight angst, comfort

Word count: 1,260

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood and terminal illness

A/N: So... this was meant for Otoya’s birthday, but with the amount of procrastination I did I’m going to post this as a regular fic now. It’s gonna be hard for me to post birthday stories timely from now on, so I might just not do it anymore, but of course I will still write for the boys!

So I hope you enjoy this story, it’s kinda sad but I promise it gets better (cause I would never hurt Otoya like this)

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31352561

Otoya’s aunt had told him, the day that she brought him to see the sunflower field, the sunset had the most beautiful orange hue she had seen in her life. Everything was painted in a breathtaking sight, to the point where she didn’t want to leave.

“Otoyan, I hope you get to meet your soulmate soon, it would make me very happy.” His aunt said.

In the world he lived in, soulmates were granted a special privilege once they met each other. Upon meeting the soulmate, they would be blessed with the ability to see the world in colour. Often during breakfast, Otoya’s aunt would hand him a cup, she told him it was a red one. Being a curious child, Otoya asked her to describe what the colour felt like.

"Well you see, red's a really passionate colour, it sometimes seems fierce and fired up. But also, I believe red is the colour of life, it’s the colour of the blood that runs through our body." 

Otoya decided that red was going to be his favourite colour. 

Naturally as a kid Otoya asked his aunt to buy him things in the colour red, and his aunt did. Even though he couldn't see colours, Otoya believed that his aunt would make the effort to find the best red backpack and the best red sweater she could. 

Growing up without parents, Otoya was extremely attached to his aunt. Although she was now a widow, he knew that she worked extremely hard to support him and his interests. His aunt was his number one supporter, and Otoya's wish was to return the favour when he grew older. 

Unfortunately that wish would never come true when Otoya got the call that his aunt was hospitalised one day. 

It was pneumonia, he was informed. He had only heard of the illness during a class discussion once and had never expected a close relative of his to have contacted it. 

While his aunt didn't have the weakest body, he knew she had suffered from asthma from a young age, further fuelling the devastation caused by the virus. 

On one of the days he visited his aunt, he overheard the doctors' conversations 

"It's not looking good, she's coughing up a lot of blood."

That sentence stuck with him. 

Blood. The very thing that granted his aunt a life was the same thing that was causing her death. 

The passing of his aunt left behind a very void Otoya. He still attended highschool and graduated, he hung out with his friends at the arcade, but he was an empty vessel, constantly putting up his bright smile so no one would be concerned over him. 

Eventually Otoya graduated high school, deciding to pursue a career in music. He wanted to be a singer. His aunt always had music playing in the house when she was doing the chores or engrossed in a book. Sometimes when an upbeat song was played, she and Otoya would dance across the living room together, it was something Otoya always looked forward to. 

On bad days, Otoya would sit in a little cosy corner he made in his apartment. His aunt had a favourite song that she liked to listen to, and Otoya would find himself plugging in his earphones, while playing that song on repeat.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away...” Otoya always felt a pang in his heart whenever that line was sung, it hit a little too close to home. 

“It’s okay, you had your reason for crossing the rainbow bridge, I hope you’re in a better place now.” Otoya would often mutter to himself, while looking up at the sky.

The night before the audition, Otoya had trouble falling asleep, partially due to the excitement and partially due to him being nervous. He really wanted to do well. For the past month he had practiced the same self composed song over and over again on his guitar, to the point where some of his fingers had blisters. 

Otoya walked past the sunflower field on his way to the audition. The sight of it made it stop in his footsteps. It was still in the same shade of grey when he saw it as a kid, but it was so nostalgic - Otoya hadn’t dared step foot into the field since his aunt passed, worried that it would bring him more pain than he could handle. 

But he made a mental note to himself that he would drop by after his audition.

As expected, Otoya passed the audition - with flying colours in fact. The judges absolutely loved his piece and were very eager to have him sign on with the company. Otoya was given the chance to debut in a seven member group as planned by the company, and his training began in a month. 

His steps felt light as he made his way home, almost to the point where he was skipping along the pavement. With hurried footsteps, he made his way to the sunflower field. 

Otoya made his way towards a bench that he and his aunt often sat at, a spot deemed as the perfect place to watch the sunset by his aunt. He placed his guitar beside him and took a seat, everything was silent, with the occasional sound from the wind blowing across the field. Otoya took in a deep breath, enjoying the peace he had in the moment. He was relieved life was going as he wanted it too, and he hoped that wherever his aunt was watching him from, that she would be proud.

Suddenly, Otoya felt his ears perk up from the sound of someone singing. It was the most calming voice he had ever heard, a melody so enchanting that Otoya found himself under its spell. He straightened his back and looked around for the source, and eventually his eyes landed on a tall, dark blue-haired male who wasn’t standing too far away from where he was. 

The singing male didn’t seem to notice the pair of eyes fixated on him as he continued the melody of the song. As the song came to an end, the male seemed to sense that someone was watching him, as he turned his head and his eyes locked onto Otoya’s.

Immediately, a parade of colours came raining down into Otoya’s vision, dyeing the sunflower field in different shades of golden and yellow. Otoya's eyes widened and he felt himself let out a gasp and tears fell down his cheeks as he brought a hand to cover his mouth. The sight that unfolded in front of him was truly as beautiful as how his aunt had described it to him.

Otoya couldn’t stop the tears that kept flowing continuously down his face, and his hands eventually fell limp to his side. The other male also seemed rather dazed by the sudden discovery, but he remained calm and he approached Otoya.

“Are you okay?”, he asked, in a tone so gentle that Otoya couldn’t help but throw his arms around him, his body still quivering ever so slightly. 

The male gently rubbed circles on his pack, hoping to comfort him.

“Seeing in colour is beautiful isn’t it?” Otoya heard him ask, to which he simply nodded his head, whispering a soft ‘thank you’. 

When the both of them eventually pulled away, Otoya shyly introduced himself and also told the male that he hoped to get to know him as a person better. 

“I’m Ichinose Tokiya, I hope to get to know you better as well.”

[dragonagecompanions]

Dragonagecompanions Masterlist- Inquisition Part 1

First thoughts on Inquisitor

Crossdressing Inquisitor

Inquisitor gets poisoned (Nonromanced version)

Inquisitor in lingerie (Cullen & Josephine here)

First thoughts on Corypheus

Inquisitor fainting

Inquisitor being deaf in one ear

Inquisitor possessed by a spirit

Inquisitor protecting them from a hit

Inquisitor giving them flowers

Josephine, Lelianna + Cassandra reacting to noble courting Inquisitor

Inquisitor can’t swim

After Trespasser (And Advisors here)

Inquisitor dyeing their hair

Inquisitor can do Skyrim shout

Child taking a shine to companions

Companions realizing they have deeper feelings for Inquisitor

Inquisitor having astraphobia

Inquisitor having self harm scars (And Advisors Here)

Inquisitor fussing over them

Inquisitor performing CPR

Cassandra if Lelianna hadn’t stopped her in the beginning

Solas with young inquisitor who considers him a father figure

Meeting the Hero of Ferelden

Inquisitor that grew up on the streets

Car or Motorcycle

Inquisitor with beautiful singing voice

Inquisitor getting a mabari

Nobles talking shit at Winter Palace

Inquisitor’s death post-trespasser

Inquisitor working for Corypheus

What kind of tumblr blogs the companions would run

Cullen reacting to Dexter - Dark Passenger Scene at Restaurant

Inquisitor gets surrounded

Inquisitor bring home an orphaned child

Inquisitor having a blood disease

Inquisitor being skilled in unarmed

Inquisitor with a scar across stomach

Inquisitor has a child from a previous relationship

Teen! Inquisitor getting drunk after finding out the truth about elven religion post trespasser

Child! Inquisitor asking about Blackwall after he disappears

Inquisitor has a panic attack during a war meeting

Solas reacting to falling for someone who is not an elf (GIF)

Finding the Inquisitor nearly passed out from an Anchor flare

Cassandra reacting to Inquisitor asking to her to read to them

Inquisitor speaking Qunlat

Reactions to the massacre of Lavellan clan

Learning about what the Joining entails (GIF)

Teen! Inquisitor falls deathly ill

Game franchise companions would be most interested in

Teen! Inquisitor gets hit on by a creep

Taking the Inquisitor’s virginity

Someone purposefully misgendering the Inquisitor

Books are getting burned and Inquisitor stops it

Inquisitor calling Cassandra Mom (GIF)

Companions reacting to Cole describe the Inquisitor’s feelings about them

Child! Inquisitor accidentally blowing crater in Skyhold

Inquisitor with luscious locks

Going to Wrestlemania

What it takes to get Vivienne, Dorian and Josephine to a spit take

Types of cars each companion would drive

Inquisitor lost a bet and runs through Skyhold naked

Companions realizing they are in love with the Inquisitor

Inquisitor has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

Inquisitor wants to raise a dragon pup

Weddings with companions

Harding, Krem and Dagna finding out the Inquisitor has a crush on them

Companions’ greatest desires

Inquisitor asks them to take care of their child if they die

Qunari! Inquisitor with Golden Halla Horns (GIF)

Dorian reacting to Teen! Inquisitor calling him Dad

Which would they like better: Lord of the RIngs, Harry Potter, or Star Wars

Inquisitor bottle flips from Leliana’s foor onto Solas’s desk (GIF)

Iron Bull’s reaction to the Warden telling him stories about Sten

Companions find an amulet that makes you speak in limericks and haikus

Fenris as the Inquisitor (GIF)

Inquisitor that wants to try at least one of every meat they kill

Inquisitor has a creepy stalker

Josephine reacting to Child! Inquisitor saying gold isn’t her color

Parent! Inquisitor’s child telling romances that Inquisitor likes them (Krem, Dagna and Harding here)

Inquisitor being the author of the Song of Ice and Fire series

Inquisitor with epilepsy

Inquisitor singing to demons to try and heal them like Moana (GIF)

Inquisitor was an assassin on a job at the conclave (GIF)

Inquisitor’s reaction to their child telling the companions their feelings

Romances react to the Inquisitor giving them an affectionate kiss

Inquisitor that can turn anything into a weapon (GIF)

Cassandra falling for a woman Inquisitor

Inquisitor that rock any clothing they wear (GIF)

Cullen falling for a dude Inquisitor

Blackwall falling for a dude Inquisitor

Sera reacting to an ace inquisitor

Inquisitor is 101 mabari

Reaction to Solas pulling the Inquisitor into a kiss in front of everyone (GIF)

Josephine first realizing that she is bi

Qunari! Inquisitor taking out enemies with their horns (GIF)

Companions singing lullabies to a Child! inquisitor

Solas reacting to a Teen! Inquisitor looking grown up in Trespasser

Sera reacting to realizing she is a noble after marrying a Trevelyan Inquisitor

Reactions to an asexual inquisitor

Solas’s reaction to Inquisitor calling Cullen vhenan (GIF)

Blackwall’s reaction to the Inquisitor joking that his armor looks like a quilt (GIF)

Inquisitor’s main weapon is Excalibur from Soul Eater (GIF)

Blackwall’s reaction to the Inquisitor asking him for a strip tease (GIF)

Child! Inquisitor making them flower crowns

Inquisitor dancing with the ambassador at the Winter Palace (GIF)

What kind of presents they would give to a Child! Inquisitor on their birthday

What leaves Varric absolutely stunned

Dalish! Inquisitor wearing Dalish attire to the Winter Palace (GIF)

Post Trespasser Inquisitor saying they aren’t good enough for them

Sera reacting to Dalish! Inquisitor making dalish cookies (GIF)

Inquisitor saying I love you in the romances native tongue

Solas reacting to Inquisitor sneaking up and grabbing his junk (GIF)

Child! Inquisitor getting called knife ear

Varric calling a Dwarf dude! Inquisitor Bartrand

Inquisitor wearing formal attire (GIF)

Ace Inquisitor that doesn’t like sex with Iron Bull

Sera realizing the Hero gave her the painted box

Dorian’s reaction to being accepted by his partner’s family

Hogwarts Houses for the Companions

Inquisitor pinching their ass under the table during a war table mission (GIF)

Leliana’s reaction to the Hero telling the Inquisitor to look out for her

Inquisitor slapping an enemy so hard it knocks them off their feet (GIF)

Sera reacting to an Inquisitor who binds their chest

Cullen reacting to the Inquisitor giving him a dream catcher to get rid of his nightmares

Inquisitor giving them a bouquet that they picked on a quest (GIF)

Josephine’s reaction to a Mage! Inquisitor being told no one would love them

Inquisitor asking them to take them on a shopping trip to help them transition

Iron Bull’s reaction to learning the Inquisitor knows blood magic

Romancing Krem

Dorian reacting to an asexual Inquisitor that doesn’t like sex

Teen! Inquisitor getting into a fight with another teen (And Advisors Here)

Calm Inquisitor loses their temper (GIF)

Dorian meeting his and the Inquisitor’s child from the future

What makes the companions panic

Inquisitor falls in the fade with only the Warden and Hawke

Centaur Inquisitor  (GIF)

Teen! Inquisitor getting angsty over a crush

Modern day Languages the companions want to learn

Iron Bull’s reaction to his horns hurting his lover while sleeping

Pocket Ask

If the Inquisitor had a crush on Corypheus (GIF)

Teen! Inquisitor having a panic attack

Inquisitor Zevran (And Advisors Here)

Josephine’s reaction to the Inquisitor forcing themself to stay awake due to nightmares

Solas finding out the Lavellan has Qunari blood (GIF)

Companions’ ideal gifts

Someone misgendering a trans inquisitor (GIF)

Inquisitor that has Ehlers-Danlos Sydrome

ASOIAF! Universe: Reading the Red Wedding

Finding the Inquisitor covered in blood and with a shovel

Finding the Inquisitor in their room, giggling like a child on the floor (GIF)

Cullen, Dorian and Solas reacting to the Inquisitor nearly made tranquil

Inquisitor who randomly coughs up blood (GIF)

Teen! Inquisitor going off to college

Iron Bull reacts to a Mage Qunari Inquisitor! who is a bit scared of him

Comforting an agender Teen! Inquisitor

Child! Inquisitor climbing onto one of the rooftops (GIF)

Dorian and Dude Elven! Inquisitor holding hands at a party

Sera thinks the Ace! Inquisitor is also aro but Inquisitor likes Sera

Ace! Inquisitor nearly forcing themself to have sex because they think that’s what “normal” couples do- have sex

Cassandra and Woman! Inquisitor come out publicly

Random gifs for companions (GIF)

Inquisitor reveals that they are a vampire

Iron Bull reacting to the Inquisitor having a panic attack

Inquisitor is a Khajiit from the Elder Scrolls series

Dorian receiving news of the Inquisitor’s death (romance)

Child! Inquisitor whose parents think they could always do better

Which companions would be most likely to adopt

Someone tries to tease about Josephine and the Inquisitor’s relationship

Inquisitor being the child of the Hero of Fereldon

Inquisitor calling Solas “egghead” (GIF)

Vivienne’s reaction to the Inquisitor chewing loudly at dinner

Child! Inquisitor refuses to eat healthy

Teen! Inquisitor doesn’t feel like they are fit to lead because they are young

ASOIAF! Universe: reacting to the Purple Wedding

Inquisitor that shouts attack names in battle (GIF)

First time seeing the Inquisitor in Antaam-saar (GIF)

Finding out the Inquisitor is ticklish and doesn’t mind being tickled (GIF)

Usually serious Inquisitor makes a pun (GIF)

Leliana’s reaction to an Inquisitor using a cell at the winter palace (GIF)

Iron Bull’s reaction to his lover being conscious about how they look

Free day at the beach

Inquisitor who cuddles whoever is closest in their sleep

Jack of all trades Inquisitor who doesn’t know how to fight

Inquisitor stays in the fade in place of Hawke or the Warden

Leliana, Dorian and Vivenne’s advice on proposing to Josephine

Dalish! Inquisitor who can’t read well

Noble sneering at a Child! Inquisitor because of their age

[jenroses]

Putting some thoughts about unpacking toxic cultural ideas about food behind a cut.

So, I'm fat.

I also have a hell of a lot of metabolic and immune issues going on that mean I don't eat a lot, and what I do eat is high in fat and very low in carbs because it's the only reliable way to keep my blood sugar stable enough to prevent making neuropathies worse or permanent.

I'm allergic to a lot of things, as well.

I've been watching a mukbang YouTuber lately, tzuyang, and not getting into overall issues of mukbang in general, or the obvious concerns around binge eating...

I feel a strange sense of peace, watching this tiny woman eating 15 pounds of food in one go. She's 24. She visited a doctor on screen to get her test results for bloodwork, and her glucose and cholesterol levels, etc. are fine.

There are days when I struggle to find the energy to feed myself. Food is hard for me, it's been hard for a long time, it's probably always going to be hard because of the mast cell issues and the steroid induced diabetes (steroids for severe, difficult to control rheumatoid arthritis... My dose is low but even tiny increases jack up my blood sugar, I've been on 14+ drugs trying to control the ra, so far the best I've got is sometimes I don't hurt quite well much, and going off steroids for even a day will leave me with a brutal headache, even though my dose is so low... 2mg medrol.)

But I watch this woman eat and it becomes an inescapable truth that my weight has little to do with my food intake, and everything to do with metabolism, genetics, past pregnancies and illness.

It's not my fault.

If I could exercise safely, I would. I used to be a dancer, I rode horses, I was on swim team for years, distance and im, I used to sew and build and cook and dye fabric and as late as the summer of 2007, I was able to work 14 hour days doing hard manual labor remodeling our house, clearly if I could exercise, my natural tendency is to be active.

But chronic fatigue, post viral (h1n1, 2009) is no fucking joke and when you're as sick as I've been, they throw a lot of meds at you, and a lot of them cause weight gain, and at this point that means I'm not on psych drugs and I'm not on pain drugs and I'm not in nerve drugs which really leaves fuckall to help with the pain side of things. Because while I flat out refuse to try to lose weight, I cannot afford to gain it either and anything that causes weight gain tends to also cause other side effects I also cannot tolerate. I already have sjogrens, I don't also need drug induced dry eyes.

This is a roundabout way off getting to the key takeaway.

Different coping methods and triggers function very differently for different people. I watch tzuyang and feel much more peace about my body. It gives me enough energy to make myself a reasonable portion of food and eat it, when eating is hard. Other people might be triggered to pathological binge eating/purging by the exact same thing. I'm far more traumatized by people talking about dieting than I am by watching people eat enormous quantities of foods I cannot eat and would not want in that quantity even if I could.

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

My Lethal White episode 1 recap

After having had a lot of fun recapping episode 2, I went back and did episode 1 as well. It got a bit out of hand and is a loooong post...

Under the cut, because, evidently, there will be ALL THE SPOILERS! 🚨

*SQUEEEEE!!!* THEY’RE BACK!!! 🤗💃🏻🙌🏼  (Yes, I’m still squeeing, although this is a rewatch)

Let’s look at the title sequence, shall we? They’ve added a few new details: There’s the wooden cross from the dell, the White Horse of Uffington and Robin’s Houses of Parliament guest pass. The child from Billy’s memories and the pink blanket. Someone’s already mentioned the ‘whore’ swirling in the coffee cup, and then later we have a fencing icon in the pint. Cool hints. 😎

Cut to tired, head-achy Cormoran at the wedding. Strike has a slightly different haircut, and I wonder: they dye Tom’s hair darker for the role, but he has a glint of natural first grey at the temples that I’ve seen on Tom pre-Strike. How did they keep that? (Sorry about the hair kink digression…☺️)

Pet peeve of mine they carried over from Career of Evil: in the book, Donald Laing slashes Strike’s palm, but it didn’t happen in the series. There was no blood on his hand when he called Robin, and his glove was intact. And yet, Strike has his hand bandaged. I know it’s a silly pet peeve of mine, but stuff like that pulls me out of the moment. And Strike wouldn’t slap on a bandage just for a little bruising. *steps off soap box*

“You look beautiful.” - “And you look terrible.” - “It’s this jacket, needs taking in.” 😂

“I want you back.” - “What?” Augh, the double meaning of it all, Strike’s softness and Robin’s initial uncertainty of what he means. 🥺

When she realizes that Matt deleted Strike’s messages, there’s a tear spilling from her eye, and she quickly wipes it away. 😢 Such good acting. Such a brave girl.

A few of us have already addressed this in the chat: did Matt BLOCK Strike, or delete his calls and messages? Or both? They’re frustratingly unclear about this detail, and it makes a difference in terms of Strike being able to reach her or not. (I’m a continuity nerd, sorry)

Sarah standing next to Matthew. *gags*

Robin looks so beautiful! And so very sad. (Holliday is acting her heart out of this season, can’t say it enough). This is award material, hands-down. 🏆

Her look across the room at Cormoran while they’re eating! And he’s… just been staring at her all through the meal? Good god. These two.

If Cormoran falls asleep before dessert he’s got to be really, REALLY tired.☺️ Poor baby.

We’ve got to work on your fine dining skills, Cormoran darling! It’s very cowboy and rugged, handling cutlery like that, but you would SINK during an aristocracy under-cover op. Maybe the Comte de la Fère is available for a lesson?

The first chords of The Calling’s “Wherever you will go”. Ack. They really went for the original, and as someone who’s always been ridiculously in love with that cheesy song, I AM HERE FOR IT.

Cormoran walking slow-mo past the bridesmaids, looking at Robin dancing with Matt The Twat. My heart…💔

When I’m gone you’ll need love to light the shadows on your face… *sniff*

Cormoran’s FACE during the dance. I can’t. He looks like a puppy about to get shot. 🥺

(and what a juxtaposition to the little lady with the funny hat bobbing happily next to him, to everyone looking awww and being completely ignorant of the drama that’s playing out. Ugh. I’m dead.)

Matthew moves like someone who’s (painstakingly) learned exactly one (1) dance, and for their wedding only, and why is he even smiling so proudly? They must’ve just had the biggest row in history? Is he really so full of himself?

Even Robin is smiling, although staring longingly at Strike. I bet they did that so Strike would be a little mad at her and want to walk away.

AND HE DOES! 😟 You can just see the “Fuck this” from the book crossing his face as he turns around and leaves. Ack. I’m dead again.

If I could then I would, I’ll go wherever you will go

(Perfectly placed, kudos) 👏🏼

And she runs after him, looking like a fairy-tale princess. Did you see how frigging COLD it must’ve been, judging by her breath?! Poor Holliday must have been freezing to death during the shoot. And then to pull off such a heartbreaking scene…

(Also, the lawn in the park? A shitload of rolled sods. No grass looks this lusciously green in winter, and you can see the edges everywhere. Some landscaper had a field day there!)

“Are you sure?” - “Yeah. I am.” About WHAT, you idiots?! *wrings hands* To her coming back to work, of course, but there’s so much more to their statements. And I’m sure that non-book-readers thought they were about to kiss and elope, but - alas! - we know that’s not going to happen.😔

But at least we get The Hug™️, and it’s everything we hoped for: Robin crying, digging her fingers into his jacket; Cormoran closing his eyes… God help us, we are all DOOMED sailing this ship! 🙈💔

I was a little miffed upon first watching that they faded out of that hug so quickly. That was it? No, it wasn’t, as we now know, and I love, love, love that we’re getting all these extended flashbacks that reveal more and more of what happened to us!

ONE BLOODY YEAR LATER (I still can’t get over that time jump)

Lol at the subcontractor crashing his moped into the cab! It was only briefly mentioned in the book, and turning it into an actual dialogue was a fun idea.😂

And there’s Denise (that IS her, right?), completely uninterested in doing her job. Good grief - Strike and Robin are BAD a picking employees! 🙈

Robin looking not-jealous-at-all at Strike walking off with Lorelei. Ouch.

I like Lorelei, btw. They chose the actress well, and she’s nice and mature. Which doesn’t mean that I’m not secretly flinching every time she kisses Cormoran. It’s just not right.

Billy. Joseph Quinn does an incredible job playing him. 👏🏼 As dangerous as he appears at first, his despair and his efforts at holding himself together are heartbreaking. That battle he wages against his mental illness is on full display, and his scared big eyes are killing me. 🥺

Cormoran is admirably unfazed by Billy’s appearance - is that his Army training kicking in? Robin, though, is shaking but braving it out, recording with her phone although her hands are trembling. Good acting by Holliday.

Good riddance, Denise.

The good ole’ pencil trick. “I didn’t know people still did this.” 😌

I was surprised that Cormoran chose to simply break into the house on Charlemont road. It’s breaking and entering for no good reason. Could’ve been anybody’s home.

He’s not going to- EWW! He’s sitting down on that filthy couch. And plucking hairs from it. EWW!🤢

Robin: “...and some porn.” 😂 Says it as if it’s what they always find. The usual. Men… 🙄

Who’s the guy taking pictures of Cormoran? I seriously don’t remember this from the b- Oh, WAIT! Reporter guy. Patterson. Yeah. Him.

The CORE members are as cliché in their looks as are Chiswell’s upper class folks. It’s all a bit on the nose for my taste, but then clichés are clichés for a reason.

Cormoran needs to work on his disguises. Not fitting in at all with the CORE crowd, age-wise or in his look. No wonder they don’t trust him. He does it better in the books.

Oh Robin. I actually think you need a lot more therapy to work through your shit.

Ah, here we go. Seaborn bacteria. But first, Matt’s got to be a prick again. 🙄

Chiswell with his arrogance and his rudeness and his finger-snapping. *shakes head* I think if Cormoran hadn’t known he could make some serious money with this case, he may have walked out on him.

Btw, the “large” jacket is making Strike look slimmer instead of bigger. 😄 They’re so desperately mentioning Strike’s largeness, as if beating it over our heads could actually make us not see barely-6-foot and slender Tom Burke.

“Couple more potatoes wouldn’t hurt.” And his FACE! 🥰

Glenister is a really good actor. I always listen to the Strike audiobooks that he narrates, and I was worried hearing his voice in the show would be confusing, but it’s not because he sounds so different. Can’t wait for him reading “Troubled Blood” to me! 🎧

Is it a coincidence that Drummond’s art gallery has a painting of a horse in its front window? I think not.

I love that soft blue shirt they put Cormoran in. Makes him look very huggable. *blushes*

“Not sure I would make a convincing goddaughter either.”😂

So in England you can just walk up to a minister’s house and ring the doorbell without any security people stopping you? Interesting.

Chiswell just shutting the door in Cormoran’s face. RUDE.😠

The brown contact lenses. 👀 Okay, they make her look different, but not THAT different. It’s her sudden posh accent that’s the real stunner.

The panic attacks. Holliday plays them so well, I almost feel like I can’t breathe myself. 😧

I was expecting the Houses of Parliament to look a little less like a stuffy basement full of old junk. *ducks*

Barclay! Definitely looking more attractive than his description in the book. And I thought I’d gotten food at understanding Scottish. I haven’t. *turns subtitles on*

Izzy is the only Chiswell offspring who doesn’t make me want to immediately vomit.

“Venetia. Like the blinds.” Oh God. 🙈

Winn is such a creep. 🤮 Poor Robin. GET AWAY FROM HER YOU LEECH!

Of course Matt doesn’t want Robin to wear the Green Dress. Twat.🙄

The house warming party. I always wonder why Robin doesn’t have friends of her own. I have a feeling Matt has something to do with that.

The earrings. So we will see Robin finding out Matt’s cheating on her! I can’t wait for her to rip him a new one! 😈

Robin calls Cormoran - and it’s not Coco but Lorelei who picks up. That’s a smart change from the book. And it makes her the rebound girl. Which she doesn’t deserve, but it is what it is.

“And she bakes.” 🥴 Is it just me wondering how Lorelei got that cake into the tin without ruining the icing?!

Flashback to The Hug™️. God, their faces are so close. Cormoran is so soft. Nnnnhhhggggg.

Enter the plaid shirt. Lumber!Cormoran is a good look on him! 😍

The Armchair of Sadness™️. Of course that’s where the devastating phone call to Robin’s house happens! The disbelief and disappointment on Cormoran’s face is heart rending. 😢💔

@lulacat3 and I have already established the continuity error with Cormoran’s facial injuries suddenly missing when he’s reached the pub. (And they should still be there; he’s still wearing the plaid shirt from that same evening.) If I were the makeup person I would have been deeply regretful of having missed dabbing fake injuries on Tom’s face again.

The Uffington Horse. Robin’s in appropriate Wellingtons, weather jacket and a beanie for their outing. Cormoran is wearing what he always wears, and Tom clearly wishes he had a beanie. At least he gets to wear a t-shirt under his eternally blue shirts this season. REVOLUTION! 😄

Sure. Let’s just go and dig for a corpse with a shovel so conveniently available! Just the two of them - one delicate Robin and one invalid. And then Robin finds the bones after ten seconds of digging. No further comment. 🙄

But I like the change with Cormoran’s leg. As stupidly heroic as he acted in the book, I like it better in the show where he has to acknowledge his handicap and Robin takes charge.

The bones. Dun-dun-DUN!

(Good first episode, although all in all the pacing wasn’t quite right yet, and compared to the book it all felt a bit rushed. I liked episode two better.)

[angryschnauzer]

In Another World

Summary: In another world, it was Jensen that got the role of Captain America, not Chris. You have dreamed of meeting Jensen ever since you saw him in his CGI glory in The First Avenger, and your comicon experience you discover to be underwhelming. But then you meet a cosplayer in the bar... and life takes an altogether different turn for you.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Comicon, Comic Convention, Strangers at a Bar, Cosplay, Captain America Cosplay, Unprotected Sex, Hotel Room Sex, Oral Sex, Fingering, Blow Job, Anal Play.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Female Reader (no race specified)

The above Jensen manip i cannot trace, it was sent to me years ago by a now deactivated tumblr user, with the signature half chopped off. Its the artwork that inspired this fic. In case you weren’t aware, Jensen auditioned for the role of Captain America but it of course went to Chris.

I do not operate a tag list, but feel free to go ahead and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified when i post a new story. Oneshots will be posted on Tumblr and AO3, Multichapter stories will be AO3 exclusives.

Due to the amount of stories i have written over the years i no longer have a masterlist, instead please check out my AO3 HERE.

In Another World

You sat at your computer, staring at the screen as you streamed the latest press junket. Marvel was going all out with its ten-year plan for The Avengers and with this press tour for The Winter Soldier you had fallen in love even more with Cap.

 As the images streamed live from the far east, you watched as Jensen flexed his muscles and his co-stars laughed in admiration. He was born to be Captain America.

 But you weren’t the only one watching.

 In a small apartment in Boston another pair of eyes watched with an added level of sadness. He remembered the audition. Standing in the hallway with a bunch of other guys, all in their 20’s, all having a few bit-part roles under their belts in teen TV shows or low budget horror movies. The same green eyes that stared out of the screen had looked at him in the hallway, holding his hand out to shake;

 “Hey man. Jensen”

 “Chris”

 Jensen smiled;

 “Strong Boston accent there dude”

 Chris chuckled;

 “Say the same about you, what’s that Houston?”

 “Dallas”

 “Eh, close enough”

 They chatted for a while as the guys ahead of them in the line entered the room, only to leave 5 minutes later. They didn’t look up at the guys left, no-one wanted to read expressions to give themselves fake hope. The door opened and the annoying droll voice of the elderly secretary called out;

 “Ackles”

 Chris looked up, holding his hand out to his new acquaintance;

 “Break a leg man”

 Shaking it briefly Jensen nodded;

 “Thanks man”

 -

 You clung to your priority tickets, the excitement so intense you weren’t sure if you were going to puke or cry. You hoped for neither. It was your first convention and you had maxed out your credit card and called in sick from work when the special edition tickets had been released, refreshing your computer every ten seconds so that when they had been released online you had made your purchase within 30 seconds. 

 Now standing towards the front of the queue you were terrified. You had loved Jensen from the first moment you’d seen him in all his CGI glory in The First Avenger. You’d followed his career and had even gone back and watched his entire back catalogue. He was a natural for the role and the stealth suit from the most recent movie had made him look so handsome you had actually swooned when you had seen those first opening scenes of the movie aboard the Lumerian Star. 

 The con volunteers were doing an amazing job, herding the fans into some form of order, and as you got closer you could hear the laughter and squeals of joy as fans ahead of you were rapidly shown in.

 It was your turn. The flimsy black curtain was pulled aside, and you were pushed into the brightness of the well-lit area that was surrounded on all sides by vivid blue panels that bore the con’s logo. Jensen turned and smiled, putting his hand out and you found you were standing next to him. Your head swam;

 “Do you have a pose?”

 “Umm…”  You could see the con workers and volunteers moving their arms in a ‘hurry up’ motion; “I guess… a hug?”

 “Sure thing”

 He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pointed towards the bored looking photographer;

 “Smile sweetie”

 You did. You smiled, your saw blobs as the flash blinded you. You didn’t even register as Jensen pressed his hand to your back, thanking you before turning to the next person who had already been pulled through the black curtain. A volunteer took your wrist and pulled you gently through the curtain on the far side, giving you your photo number as they apologised it was so fast.

 The curtain closed and you stood there, blinking as you tried to focus on the small piece of paper you held. It was done. Over. You’d met Jensen and it had been so rushed you hadn’t even had chance to look at him. 

 The bile started to rise, you looked around and saw a trash can, leaning over it and vomited into the piles of used coffee cups and candy wrappers. 

 -

 The hunt for a bottle of water at a con hadn’t been something you would think would take so long; a lot of the vendors had already sold out, others the line was so long it would have taken you longer to get the water than the queue for the con in the first place. It seemed as if everyone was walking against you, or you were going against the flow of them, but when you finally got your water you drained the entire bottle, soothing your bile parched throat. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand you heard an announcement over the PA system;

 “We apologise, but the Jensen Ackles panel won’t be broadcast out of the auditorium due to technical issues”

 “WHAT?” you grabbed your wrist, looking at your watch as your eyes went wide. You’d been so dazed by your photo op and feeling ill afterwards you had forgotten about the panel. You needed a drink, and something stronger than water.

 -

 Chris adjusted the helmet of his costume as he looked in the mirror. The men’s room was quiet, the main panel of the con was on and he couldn’t bring himself to sit in the same room as the guy that had won the role that had made him millions; of fans and dollars. 

 After not getting the Captain America role Chris had continued to take bit parts and small independent movies. He was recognised occasionally but he hadn’t hit the big time. In fact there were months when there was nothing coming in and it was only after someone had asked him to fill in at a kids party where one of the superhero guys had fallen sick at the last minute did the idea of cosplaying come to him. Now however he was well known in cosplay circles, even getting paid for some appearances. He was called a natural for the role, but that was the hardest to hear. He’d worked hard with his costumer and within just a few weeks of the latest movie coming out they’d successfully recreated the amazing Stealth Suit in its darker colours. 

 Checking his pants for his wallet he decided he needed a drink, and something stronger than a soda. 

 -

 Nodding to the bartender, you thanked him as he set the beer down in front of you before he went to the far end of the bar to pull the latest load of glasses out of the dishwasher. You sat picking at the label and tracing patterns in the condensation that gathered on the cool glass. You were vaguely aware of other people coming and going, and when the barstool next to you was taken you didn’t look up.

 “What’ll it be Cap?”

 The bartender’s greeting drew your attention from your drink, casting your gaze to your side and your breath was sucked from your body. You watched as the man set his helmet onto the surface of the bar before nodding to what you were drinking;

 “Same as the lady please”

 Your eyes travelled from where his hand sat on the countertop of the bar up the dark sleeve of his stealth suit, taking in his wide shoulders and up to the fluffy dark blonde hair, slightly messed up from where he’d been wearing the helmet. You couldn’t help it, but you were staring. Your jaw was hanging low as he turned slowly to you, his blue eyes sparkling with just the faintest hint of green as he looked at you and a self-conscious smile tugged at the corner of his mouth;

 “Hi…”

 “You’re… you’re…”

 “No, just cosplaying…” he turned back to his beer for a moment until you finally found your voice

 “No. You’re Chris”

 He set his beer on the countertop and turned to you, this time a genuine smile on his face;

 “Do we know each other?”

 “Well…” you blushed; “We spoke on Instagram” He cocked an eyebrow, but his attention didn’t waiver from you as you continued; “You’re ‘AlmostCap’, right? You posted about wanting advice on how to dye leather boots a deeper colour? I messaged you with the details of the dyes costumiers use”

 His face broke into a wide smile;

 “Oh yeah, that really worked! How did you know that?”

 “Majored in theatre design at college”

 “Well that titbit of knowledge brought the whole costume together” he motioned to his stealth suit and you couldn’t help but to look him up and down; “Without you I wouldn’t look this good”

 You snorted back a laugh;

 “I’m sure you look just a good without the suit”

 Bringing your beer to your lips you took a sip, not realising Chris had moved closer until his lips brushed against your ear;

 “Would you like to find out?”

 -

 The hotel room door crashed against the wall, the metal doorknob leaving a dent in the drywall. Chris had you pressed up against it, one hand holding you flush with his chest as his other hand blindly reached out for the door to close it. As soon as his fingertips grasped the cool wood he threw it shut with a thud that reverberated through the room. 

 Your hands clawed at Chris’s costume, desperate to find purchase, something, anything to hang onto and anchor yourself as he kissed you so hard you saw spangled stars. He’d put his costume helmet back on for the rather quick walk through the convention to the hotel where you were staying. His lips traced patterns over your cheek before he pressed kisses down your neck, whispering as he went;

 “I don’t normally do this…”

 “Me neither…

 “...especially in costume…”

 “Oh Chris…Cap…”

 “It’s Captain tonight, Princess”

 His fingers had found their way to the buttons on the front of your dress, skilfully plucking each one from its grasp on the thin cotton fabric, before his still gloved hand roughly cupped your breasts. As his lips found yours again, he groaned into your mouth as he weighed your breasts in his large hands, the rough leather against the lace of your bra sending chills through you. If Chris had a Captain kink you weren’t about to say no, hell, it would be one of your biggest fantasies. 

 You found yourself being manhandled towards the bed, Chris’s kisses hard and ravenous, and when he wasn’t kissing you his tongue was doing the most devilish things on your skin. The bed touched the back of your knees and you were falling back onto the covers, Chris following seconds later as he pressed you into the mattress. With a thick thigh he pushed your legs apart, the rough Kevlar fabric of his suit brushing against the delicate skin of your soft skin as his fingers sought out the juncture of thighs. The brush of the harsh leather of his fingerless gloves made you groan into his mouth as he tugged your panties to the side and his thumb found your clit. Rubbing small circles, he teased it from its hood, before his fingers slid through your folds to ease some of your slick moisture from you to smooth his efforts. 

 When his lips left yours you chased after them, but his voice made you settle back against the bed and open your eyes;

 “Uh-uh… stay there Princess”

 You watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth, before his kiss bruised lips closed around his glistening digits and he moaned as he tasted you;

 “You taste amazing”

 “Umm… thank you?”

 “Here…”

 He brought his hand to your mouth and you grasped it as you sucked gently on just the fingertips, watching as Chris’s already lust blown pupils widened even further;

 “Jesus fucking Christ, your tongue…”

 Letting go of his fingers with an audible pop, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, resting on one arm as you slid a hand between your bodies and palmed his erection through his suit;

 “What about my tongue?” you grinned before you tugged him down to lay beside you. 

 Pushing up onto your knees you ran your hand down his chest and stomach, the costume warm from his body heat and firm to the touch. Your fingers clawed at his suit to try and find the zipper, and after thirty seconds of searching you let out a huff;

 “Ok, how the fuck to I get in here?”

 With a low chuckle Chris reached down and lifted a hidden Velcro flap that revealed the button and the top of the zipper, and you eagerly tugged the pants of his suit open. The large bulge in his boxers immediately filled the space of the open zipper, and you found yourself nuzzling against the hardness that the soft jersey fabric could hardly contain. Pressing open mouthed kisses to the hard shaft through the fabric, you felt Chris’s hands on your head, he wasn’t pushing but you could tell he wanted you. With a smile you just about tugged his boxers down enough to free his cock, the thick shaft standing proud from the fly of his stealth suit. You wrapped your hands around it, the flesh hot to touch and pumped him slowly. 

 “Ah fuck Princess…”

 “Yes Captain?”

 “Please…”

 He sounded wrecked, and as you leant forwards and licked at the bead of clear precum that was pooling at the tip you not only heard but felt the low rumble of his moan of appreciation. Wrapping your lips around the tip you started to suck, your tongue working over the hot smooth flesh as your fist worked up and down, pumping him slowly as you let the saliva pool in your mouth so you could take him deeper. In a moment when you pulled off to take a breath Chris’s hands were suddenly on your hips, moving you until you were kneeling on the bed and straddling his shoulders, and for a moment you squealed where his sudden strength had moved you with such ease.

 “Gotta taste you…” he muttered from beneath the skirt of your dress, his hands smoothing over the globes of your ass and you could feel his breath hot on your skin. His fingers tugged your panties to the side and he was pulling you down onto his mouth, his tongue swiping through your soaked folds. 

 For a moment you lost yourself, Chris’s efforts driving you closer to orgasm than you thought was possible, but you found your senses and leant forwards again, taking him as deep as you could and you felt his moan deep in your cunt as he almost came on the spot. Working your fingers into his suit you cupped his balls, feeling them tight and hot in your hand as you sucked hard on his cock. At the same time you felt Chris drive his tongue into your soaked hole and his thumb sought out your clit. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, and you could feel your legs start to shake. The harder he drove forwards the deeper you took him into your mouth. You heard a muffled cry from between your thighs and you felt that first tremble of the thick vein that ran the length of his cock. At the same time you felt his fingers dance over the crack of your ass, one finger pressing lightly against your dark rose and you were cumming over his face as he pumped thick ropes of cum down your throat. 

 When your legs were about to give out you tactfully rolled to the side, laying on the bed next to Chris as he fought to catch his breath. With laboured efforts he wrenched his helmet off, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he started to fumble with his costume;

 “Gotta get out of this…”

 Watching a hot guy strip was not something you’d experienced before, and a hot guy dressed as Captain America? Well that was hitting all your buttons in one go. You smiled as Chris was muttering to himself;

 “Fuckin’ suit, so fuckin’ hot… fuckin’ drenched in sweat…”

 When he was down to just his pants you finally spoke up;

 “Need a hand there Captain?”

 Chris looked up and grinned;

 “You mind if I use your shower?”

 “Sure thing, it’s all yours…”

 Chris started for the small bathroom door, his utility pants hanging low on his hips before he paused and turned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth;

 “Wanna join me?”

 -

 Showering with a guy you had literally just met was a surreal experience. The comfort and security of being partially clothed during a hook-up was completely stripped from you as you stood in the small shower enclosure the hotel room offered. Chris had looked absolutely sinful as he had stood beneath the cascading water; his skin patterned with multiple tattoos and just the right amount of chest hair that made you want to run your fingers through it as the hot water coursed over his body. Your fingers had trailed down over his hard stomach, tracing the trail of hair that led to his thick cock hanging heavy between his muscled thighs. 

 His lips had met yours eagerly again, and he soon had you pressed against the wall, his leg wedged between your thighs as you ground yourself against the firm muscle. Chris’s hands found your ass and eagerly pulled you hard against him, trapping his now angry cock between your bodies;

 “Fuck… you’re so fuckin’ sexy” he muttered against your ear, his fingers digging into your asscheeks; “You gonna cum for me Princess? Soak my thigh?”

 “Yes Chris, please…”

 “What do you need Princess?”

“Something…. Just more…”

 He pulled back from you, searching your expression for something, anything as he chose his words;

 “I can give you more…” The depth of tone sent a shudder down your spine; “I’m gonna ask you this and you can say no, and I won’t walk out that door if you say no, but do you like ass play?”

 You growled. You god-damn growled like a feral wildcat, nodding eagerly;

 “Yes Chris… fuck, yes…”

 He captured your lips for another fierce kiss as his hands slid over your ass and one finger trailed up the seam of your cheeks before pressing gently against your rear;

 “Now Princess” he muttered against your lips; “I haven’t got any lube in here so it’ll just be a gentle press, you tell me if you want me to stop”

 You nodded, biting your lip as he pushed forwards, one hand gripping your hip as he slid you up and down his soaked thigh, the other pressing gently but insistently against your back door.

 Just that stimulation alone was enough, and you were cumming hard, your head pressed against the cool tiles as Chris sucked a hickey into your neck. 

 You stood there panting as you tried to regain your composure, Chris holding you tight in his arms as he gently caressed you as you finally came to your senses. Nuzzling against his neck you felt him push his hips forward, his thick cock hard again against your hip;

 “Ready for another round?”

 “Anything for you Cap” you grinned.

 -

 The pair of you had fallen back onto the bed, half dry and oblivious to anything other than pleasure. Body heat rising, you felt your back naturally arch as Chris lay on top of you, pulling his knee up to part your legs further and you could feel his thick length laying hot and hard against your soaked folds. As his other leg pushed up and parted your thighs even further, you felt that first nudge of his tip at your soaked entrance, your legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist and with one firm squeeze you felt his breach your body and slide into you.

 The base noise that escaped your throat as you felt each glorious inch stretch your velvet walls was music to Chris’s ears, and he let you take the lead even though he was the one on top, letting your body grow accustomed to his size. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke softly;

 “You’re doing so good Princess, feel so fuckin’ amazing, takin’ me so deep”

 You slowly relaxed your thighs grip on his waist and Chris started to move, sliding his hips back as he slid out, before pushing slowly back in. Propping himself up either side of you, you watched as his arms bulged as he looked down and watched as he pulled out again, your wetness liberally coating him. 

 With his tip just notched inside you whined at the loss, before with a powerful thrust he filled you completely;

 “Holy FUCK!”

 “Do you like that Princess? Like my thick dick splitting you open?”

 “Fuck Chris, yes, do it again… please!” you whined.

  The gorgeous man above you grinned down, seemingly turned on by your begging, and with a loud grunt he started to pile drive into you, his impressive girth stretching you in all the right ways, the slight upward curve to his shaft making your g-spot his number one target with every push. The man was a demon in bed, fucking you hard as he pressed kisses to your chest and breasts, all whilst uttering the dirtiest things about how good you felt, how well you were taking his dick. You begged for more and he eagerly gave it, fucking you through one orgasm before chasing another. His thrusts started to get sloppy, his hips stuttering and he cursed quietly under his breath;

 “Fuck… I’m gonna cum soon…”

 “Cum inside me… I’m on the pill…”

 He pushed a hand between your bodies, rubbing hard circles against your clit and soon you were coming, your orgasm triggering his, and you as your body milked the cum from his body you both felt like you had found heaven. 

 With a grunt Chris rolled to your side, his dick sliding out of your soaked channel and he lay on the bed, his head propped up on one elbow, his dick full and swollen at your hip, still shining with your combined fluids. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, and you practically purred when Chris gently ran his fingertips over your breasts;

 “That was fuckin’ amazing… I’m probably going about this the wrong way, but can I buy you dinner?”

 “That’d be nice”

 -

 Dinner had been a fun affair; you had redressed, and Chris had worn his stealth suit pants but just wore the thin Under Armour undershirt instead of the full suit. Although the hotel was well used to people in cosplay costumes during the conventions using their facilities, Chris didn’t want to draw attention to himself, instead he wanted his sole attention to be able to be on you rather than people asking for photos. Throughout your meal the conversation had been fun and light, Chris telling you how he had in fact auditioned for the Marvel role but didn’t envy the craziness that came with the now worldwide recognition that Jensen had to put up with. You had explained how you now worked for a theatrical costumer’s agency on the West Coast, but had heard about some openings for a new series production out of Vancouver.

 Chris laughed softly;

 “Typical… I fall for a girl that lives on the opposite side of the country”

 “You… you’ve fallen for me?”

 Chris paused, resting his hand over yours;

 “I’m sorry, I’m kinda sappy when it comes to relationships… and I gotta be honest, when I saw you at the bar, I recognised you from your Instagram and when you helped me… I was trying to play it cool…” he took a deep breath; “I hope I’m not scaring you off…”

 Leaning forward you pressed a kiss to his cheek;

 “No… it’s nice… its more than nice…”

 -

 Once the meal was over the pair of you stood in the foyer, unsure what to do before Chris pointed out the rest of his costume was in your room.

 “Where are you staying tonight?”

 “I was meant to be crashing on a friends couch”

 Grinning you pulled him close;

 “Did you want a bed rather than a couch?”

 “Fuck yes”

 Minutes later you were crashing in the door to your room, Chris’s hands and lips trying to cover every inch of your body, and this time with the knowledge of how his costume worked you knew exactly how to get his pants open, tugging them to the floor as you pushed him into one of the chairs and knelt at his booted feet. With his dick in your mouth he was soon hard again, but that was when he took control, standing and moving you until you were knelt on the soft chair arms looking out of the high rise window over the convention center and city below, the lights of the city oblivious as he flipped your skirt up and pulled your panties down, and filled you with one smooth thrust;

 “Fuck… this pussy is fuckin’ perfect, you feel like heaven…”

 Wrapping his strong arms around you he pulled you flush with his hard chest, sucking at your neck as his dick rubbed so beautifully against your g-spot you were coming again, screaming out your release as Chris pulled out and lifted you, pulling you to your feet before you found yourself pressed against the wall and he filled you again. 

 Clinging to his wide shoulders you felt him filling you over and over, your pleasure climbing higher than you ever thought possible. Chris’s strong arms were holding you up, his large hands gripping your ass as he fucked you into the wall, your legs wrapped around his narrow waist;

 “Chris, I’m gonna cum…”

 “That’s it, cum for me, let me feel that pussy milking me as I fill you up… you feel so good, I’m never letting this pussy go…”

 As you came so did he, your walls squeezing him so tight he thought he may pass out from the sheer pleasure. For the longest time he just held you there, your bodies joined until Chris’s dick softened enough to slip out of you. Letting your feet fall to the ground you kissed as you made your way to the bed, falling onto the mattress before wrapping the covers around your flushed bodies, falling asleep soon after.

 -

 The sound of a phone ringing pulled you from sleep, the warm body next to you grumbling at the sound before it rapidly jumped out of bed;

 “Fuck, that’s my phone”

 Through bleary eyes you watched Chris’s naked ass as he rummaged through the piles of clothing on the floor, finding his phone and answering it just in time;

 “Yeah… uh-huh… for real?! Yeah absolutely! Send me the details, I’ll be there!”

 You watched as he listened a little longer before ending the call, turning to you and he had the biggest smile on his face;

 “I might have gotten a part!”

 “Really? That’s amazing!”

 “Yeah, they want me to do some screen tests with a possible co-star, see if there’s chemistry”

 Jumping out of bed you ran and hugged him, kissing him deeply as he carried you back to the bed;

 “I feel like celebrating… how about breakfast in bed?”

 “Ok, I’ll call room serv… oh…”

 Chris was pushing your legs apart and kissing up your inner thigh, and that’s when you realised he was talking about a different kind of breakfast in bed. As you lay back and enjoyed the magic he could perform with his tongue, you blissed out from pleasure.

 -

 Three Weeks Later

 Chris finished the last scene, the director calling cut and he grinned as he looked at his castmates. None of them could quite believe how they were there, standing in a cold and rainy British Columbia small town, with writers and directors that had been trying to get their series picked up for years. 

 The rest of the cast of ‘Supernatural’ was a small ensemble, and having been given the role of the older brother; Dean Winchester, Chris felt at home with the role and had been given he contract straight after his screen test with his on screen brother Sam. Laughing with the actor that played Sam - a native New Yorker by the name of Sebastian - the two of them had immediately clicked and their friendship and on screen chemistry shone through the camera.

 “Hey Evans, Stan!”

 The sound of the producer’s voice caught Chris’s attention;

 “Yeah?”

 They need you two back at the studio, costume fitting”

 “Sure thing”

 -

 The sound of the small doorbell that had been fitted on the counter drew your attention from the racks in the back room, calling out for your new arrival that you’d be out in a second. The job you’d applied for in Vancouver had pulled through, and it was your first week. A new show that needed a lot of men’s casual wear, yet things like jeans and jackets needed seams strengthened for fight scenes and pockets added for prop weapons. You were yet to meet the two main stars of the show, the casting having not been fully finalised until just days ago, and everything was hush-hush until it was going to be announced at one of the late summer conventions. 

 Dumping the armfuls of clothing onto the counter you turned and almost fainted;

 “Chris?!”

 For a second he looked in shock before he vaulted the counter, and took you into his arms;

 “You’re here? You’re really here?”

 “You’re the star?! You didn’t tell me!”

 You kissed him deeply, before a quiet cough from behind Chris drew your attention, Chris turning;

 “Seb, I want you to meet the girl I was telling you about”

 The other guy raised an eyebrow;

 “You’re THE girl? Wow, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he held his hand out over the counter and you shook it, Chris still holding you in his arms; “I’m Sebastian but everyone calls me Seb”

 Looking at the two of them you knew in that moment the show was going to be a hit, and you looked forward to making these two look even better on screen… if that was even possible.

[writers-thoughts09]

True Mind, True Heart

Act 1 Chapter 2 (Part 1)

Title: True Mind, True Heart: Act 1 Chapter 2 (Part 1) About 5.7k words Pairing: Zuko x OC (or reader idk, mind you this is like a mega slow burn fanfic so i hope you’re okay with thaaaaat). I don’t own Avatar or the character’s except my OC. Rating: PG, maybe some 13 later on Warning: Mean Zuko, uuuuuh i think that’s it. A/N: I’m so sorry for the majorly late update! I’m doing my best I have a lot planned for this story and I plan to finish this, I hope you guys will follow Lila’s journey with me! :) <3.  I apologize if the fight scenes are choppy and unclear, I’ve never written or broke down a fight scene in writing before. I might go back and fix this later. Tomorrow I’ll post part 2. Anyway without further adieu enjoy the read :)

|Prologue| 1 | 2 part 1 | 2 part 2

*

Act 1: Salvation

The sunset was quite a breathtaking sight to see if someone were to take the time to stop and stare. With the sun warm and low on the horizon, lovely rays of orange light sprawled softly across the sky, creating pink orange and yellow hues. A gradient of shades, begging to be admired. The white clouds that slowly rolled by basked in the mix of colors as they too took some of the sun’s golden tinge. Of course, no one was around to witness this natural piece of art since everyone was busy going about their business, especially on Prince Zuko’s ship.

For hours Lila sat silently in her dingy quarters, no hitch detected in her breathing. Quiet and still like a swamp with dark murky water. Untouched and motionless. Ever since Prince Zuko’s morning lessons, no one’s asked for Lila’s assistance with anything, so, for the remainder of the day, she’s been in her room.

If anyone, say Iroh, were to see her meditating, they would’ve thought she looked exactly like prince Zuko during his meditation sessions. Mimicking what she remembered the night she brought him his dinner Lila sat with her back straight, eyes closed, accompanied by nothing except deep breathing. Even though she imitated the prince’s form and tried to follow Iroh’s teachings from this morning’s lesson, it was like there was a block between her and her element. Like her fingertips would come so close to grazing that certain feeling but were still out of reach from fully grasping it. No matter how hard she’d concentrate to connect with that energy lying dormant inside her, nothing worked.

But finally, after sitting on the uncomfortable floor for who knows how long, Lila began to feel an inkling of that same euphoric peace build within her body again. It was similar to what she felt earlier above deck but slightly different. It was softer, less…magnetic as it ebbed the presence of her emotions away. Specifically, impatience and frustration when lieutenant Jee came knocking and interrupted her a while ago.

With meticulous breaths, Lila drew a smooth inhale in through her nose, filling her lungs, traveling down, expanding her belly, and gently expelled the air from her mouth, the water in her cup rippling in sync. Her heart maintained tempo with her breathing, which was strong and consistent as each beat pulsed through her being.

Though her body was at ease, patience evaded Lila’s mind, blinding her progress as she huffed in irritation. Eyes still closed she shifted her bottom for the umpteenth time. Soft like a feather but sharp like a beak, she drew another breath in, doing her best to maintain what little connection she felt with her element while keeping her frustrations at bay. Just when she was about to exhale, that breath turned into a yelp when a loud boom exploded from beyond the ship.

Like the snap of a rubber band, Lila’s concentration was broken yet again as her eyes flew open. With a start, the sudden noise made Lila jump and pull a small amount of water, which she didn’t notice as she stood up in alarm. Confusion and fear clouded her as she listened for what could’ve possibly made a noise that loud. It sounded like a flare, but Lila wasn’t so sure. “Is it an ambush?...No it couldn’t be; we haven’t had any problems or run-ins with anyone for a long while.”

Lila’s thoughts were going in circles as she rushed to her drawer to grab a fresh piece of cloth she cut up weeks before, tied it over her marred eye before reluctantly opening the door. Silently, a tawny-colored iris peeped down the metal hallways, no benders or guards in sight. However, even if they weren’t down below they might’ve already been above deck when whatever it was went off.

Noiselessly and carefully, with nimble steps like an alley cat, Lila crept through the corridors and up the familiar set of stairs. Mangled fingernails trailed along the metal wall to aid her lack of sight. Once Lila climbed up to the main deck and felt fresh air ruffle the fallen curls from her bun, Lila’s suspicions were confirmed. A bright naval flare signal was falling far out in the snowy distance. She watched, her good eye following its downward path, musing to herself, “Where did it come from though?”

Noticing the absence of prince Zuko, Uncle Iroh, and their men who were usually out and about above deck around this time, Lila glanced around the empty ship then turned to the command tower. Squinting her good eye Lila’s gaze raked up the length of it and stopped at the observation deck’s balcony. As clear as the golden sky she caught sight of the Prince. Half of his scarred face obscured as he peered through the telescope attached to the railing in front of him. Although she couldn’t see gauge what he was feeling, she was certain he figured out what or who signaled that flare and was already directing his next course of action.

When suddenly that same foreboding sensation from before when they first saw the beam of light, roiled around her chest and stomach, leaving Lila uneasy. Why? Well, she didn’t know what to expect. Was it the avatar? A false alarm? She didn’t know and not knowing left a nasty taste in her mouth.

After Prince Zuko finished barking orders at his men, solar colored eyes caught a glimpse of the curly-haired servant below seconds before he continued looking through the telescope. The girl stood by herself with half her face covered, the setting sun illuminating her tanned skin, and looked up at him with -what he could detect- nervousness. Prince Zuko didn’t know as to why nor did he care. The entirety of his focus on capturing the Avatar.

A brown eye fluttered as Lila snapped from her thoughts. Hurriedly she turned and hastened down below to the kitchen. She knew now was not the time to get distracted from her work. Earlier the chef told her he was ill and asked Lila to fill in for him tonight. She agreed though something told her he was lying. Through the maze of corridors and staircases, a passing conversation of a few men could be heard as they rushed by.

One man bumped her shoulder as he hissed, “hurry, we have to dress the Prince, the Avatar’s hiding place has been found. We’re going to the southern water tribe.”

Lila’s eye widened as her breath hitched at the mention of her mother’s sister tribe. If the Avatar is truly alive and has been hiding there for the past hundred years…worry gripped her heart over the safety of the tribes' native people. Although prince Zuko hasn’t engaged in many battles with other ships or neighboring nations, the Fire Lord’s son was a wildly stubborn and determined boy who’d stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Lila didn’t doubt he’d probably leave a trail of chaos in his wake with no regard for the consequences or how it’d affect the lives of others.

Once she entered the empty kitchen Lila rolled her sleeves up and got to preparing dinner, the red dye of her uniform reminding her of the clothes she wore as a child in the palace. As she cooked, she blinked back thoughts she knew all too well. Red uniform

Screams of fear echoing in the palace gardens

A girl in royal garbs

“You’re useless.” ... “Holy-ow!”

A sudden stinging pain roughly pulled Lila from the haze of old memories. In her stupor, Lila didn’t notice how close the knife was while cutting the spring unions and managed to slice her pointer finger. Quickly, the girl staggered away from the kitchen counter, removing the steaming pots and pans with her uninjured hand, and flitted about the kitchen looking for anything to stop the bleeding. She checked all the drawers, cabinets, and pantries as bright red blood continued to ooze over her finger and onto her hand. The throbbing and stinging continued to intensify making Lila bite her lip in pain as she tucked her finger beneath her thumb. Unable to find any clean rags or towels-

“My eye cloth…”

A tug on her heart stopped her search momentarily.

To her, that cloth was like a barricade of some sort to Lila. Sheltering the small girl from being reminded of it…the day she lost-

In summary, her eye patch was the only thing that blocked out the reality of what happened that day. Regardless of how vulnerable she felt without the cloth now was not the time or the place to start feeling insecure or hesitant, she knew that. There was work to be done; rice and meat filleting.

With the cleaning basins for the dishes nearby Lila went toward it to clean her finger and avoid food contamination. It should’ve been cleaned and refilled now that it was close to dinner time. Ready to dunk her hand in the water and wash her bloodied wound she stopped abruptly. The whole bucket was still dirty from lunchtime. Bits and pieces of rice, chicken, and other scraps floated about in the water. With a rough sigh and a curl of a plump lip, Lila closed her eye for a moment.

“I can’t catch a break,” she groaned lowly. Never again was she going to fill in for the chef.

Still, she was a servant…what could she do? Nothing. Before she could change her mind, Lila briskly grabbed the knot of the cloth from behind her head and pulled it free, a few strands of curls ripping from her bun. The milky white of her blinded eye on full display, free of any covering but chained to inhibition. Gloomy hands of her past groped and reached for Lila, but she slapped their searching palms away as she began wrapping her wound. Gentle but sure fingers tied the end of her cloth into a firm knot and she inspected her handiwork with a wistful smile. The memory of her mother’s soft hands dressing the wounds of a child rolled like a movie, replacing the ones Lila usually remembered.

“Lila, you fell again?”

The playful timbre of her mother's low voice filled their backyard. Lila’s childish eyes bubbling with tears raised from the cut on her knee as her mother calmly squatted in front of her fallen form.

“I didn’t mean to mommy. The tree was in my way,” cried her indignant daughter. Laughter rang from her mother, a white bandage appearing in her dark hands, 

“Of course, but you also have to be careful where you’re stepping too, my love.” Knowing her mother was right but still unhappy with that answer, Lila huffed out a sniffle. Tenderly her mom cupped the back of her daughter’s freshly scraped knee and began lecturing, “Here, let’s teach you how to fix wounds, big girls are good at that-”

“Big girls like you, mommy?” A squeaky voice interrupted.

Nuna glanced up at her daughter’s question. Brown innocent eyes that held such curiosity reflected in Nuna’s blue ones she just had to laugh.

“Yes Lila, big girls like me and you.”

Lowering her newly wrapped finger, Lila’s lips fell back into a straight line. She had no time to get lost in her thoughts. Deciding to try and cover her eye with her hair, her uninjured hand pulled her hair free from the fire nation styled top knot. Onyx curls tumbling down the length of her back in one fell swoop, kissing the top of her hips. The overwhelming urge to moan in relief had goosebumps tickle Lila’s spine as the tension of her tight bun dissipated almost instantaneously. She brought her hands up under her hair and aggressively massaged her scalp, both eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Ahh, yes…” A soft groan rumbled from the back of her throat.

“Ahem.”

“Oh, my goodness!” She gasped.

Whipping toward the kitchen door, hands tangled in her roots, the men from earlier in the hallway were standing there watching her as if they’d found an earth kingdom stowaway. Though the more she watched them with increasingly flushed cheeks, the more she realized they were staring at the eye. Tanned hands flew from her scalp to shake her curls and obscure their sight, but it was futile, they already saw the clouded pigmentation. Involuntarily closing her eye, the servant girl clasped her hands over her stomach and curled into a bow.

“Um, hello,” Lila stuttered but caught herself, remembering her place. Kind professionalism coating her soft question, “how may I be of service to you?”

The man who she heard speak in the corridor collected himself faster than the rest and cleared his throat before announcing,

“We are close to our arrival of the southern water tribe and Prince Zuko has requested your presence to dress him for the capture of the Avatar.”

Alarm colored Lila’s features when she recalled the last time she was alone with the prince. Streams of tears and memories he unintentionally triggered that night played before her. Swallowing down the building discomfort in her throat, Lila straightened up and schooled her worry lines into a controlled smile. She had to remind herself, “The Prince didn’t know.”

Apparently, for the men, Lila’s forced smile mixed with the ghastly mismatched color of her eyes was too much to handle, unable to hide their distaste. Faster than she could stop it, a pang of offense and hurt yanked at her heart, but she managed to stifle and shove the feelings away as she gave another trained bow. Though a question did come to mind.

“I beg your pardon, but may I ask why he requested me specifically? He has never requested this of me before,” words mousy.

Her question only seemed to cause the man to grow irritated, his eyebrow ticking in impatience as major attitude gripped his words, “The prince claimed to be displeased with our services in preparing him. Now, would you please stop talking and do what prince Zuko has asked of you? He’s waiting.”

“What about the food-”

“Servant girl, what did I just say?” The man angrily snapped.

With a flinch, Lila mumbled, “My apologies,” before bowing one last time.

Throwing an “Unbelievable” over his shoulder, he and his two companions turned to leave the kitchen.

His snarky tone made Lila frown and furrow her brows. Oh, this girl had no idea of the colorful range of words Prince Zuko used to describe him and his men! Comparing them to fire ferrets! Ha, the nerve of that prince! On top of a bruised ego, the man now had to deal with a servant who couldn’t even see right and didn’t know when to be quiet and simply serve! Lila watched them exit the kitchen, soft frown still intact as she cocked her head to the side.

With them gone, Lila moved the last bits of uncooked food away from the fire as she rushed to the prince’s quarters. With one hand on the wall, Lila hotfoot it through the twists and turns of the dim-lit hallways and up the main stairs. The frigid wind stung her cheeks, her servant's uniform doing nothing in keeping her warm as she speed-walked toward the command tower. However, it did help now that her hair was unrestrained, long curls shielding her arms from the nights southern cold. All but running into the tower, warmth immediately licked at her body. The fire emanating heat and light from the wall torches eased the stiffness of her shivering joints. Her relief was short-lived when she remembered that Prince Zuko’s room was still a few floors up. With a pout and a whimper, Lila began jogging the rest of the way toward her master’s room.

Once she reached his metal door, a winded Lila lifted her bandaged hand and softly knocked, a throb of pain shooting down her finger as she waited. Like usual, the gravelly voice of the prince commanded her to come in.

Using both hands, the petite girl turned the large cogwheel and pried the door open. Identical to last time, she peered into his room, took one cautious step in and hesitantly called out,

“You’ve requested my assistance, Prince Zuko?”

Mindful of the eye, Lila discreetly pushed some hair and hid it from view. The reaction of the men before told Lila it’d be better to keep her disability hidden if it was that distracting.

“Yes, come quickly. I want to be ready by the time we reach the southern water tribe.”

Judging from the clam raspy tone of voice, Lila concluded that The Prince wasn’t angry and carefully entered, closing the door behind her.

Near his meditation table, Prince Zuko stood like any fire nation soldier would with the usual scowl on his lips. As Lila inched in front of him she could already see that the straps holding his fire nation armor together were tied in all the wrong places. Being alone and in such close proximity to the brooding prince, Lila felt her nerves begin to quake. No way did she want a repeat of last time, anxiety sprouting from her chest. The tension was palpable in the room. The lack of conversation didn’t help either as she thought of what Prince Zuko and his men might do to the people living in that tribe. Though she’s never been to the northern or southern water tribe, they were still her mother’s people, thus making them part of her kin.

“Will they do what the fire nation did to my village, too? We didn’t even have the Avatar either and they still ravaged my village.”

In an attempt to silence her thoughts, Lila gingerly grabbed the chords holding the chest piece of his armor together and set to work. Her eyes trained solely on his battle wear. Cautious of her injury Lila made sure to keep her finger from touching him. Any bump or jostle hurt. Though her fingers, minus her pointer, were moving, her mind remained on the tribe's native people.

Zuko looked straight ahead as the shaky but lithe digits of the servant – Lila, was it? - untied and retied the straps in the correct places. The reason why he called for her specifically was that he figured she’d know how to do this from her years of servitude at the palace. Before his banishment, before that fateful day. As thoughts of his family started to prod the strongholds of his mind, Prince Zuko didn’t see Lila peek up at him from the side of his shoulder until he heard her low voice fill the thick quiet of his room.

“What’re you going to do to them?”

Like an arrow, sharp and precise, prince Zuko’s stare shot to her own, making Lila’s eyes widened in surprise. She expected him to be looking straight ahead if he were to answer her.

Breaking eye contact with him, Lila looked down and closed her blinded eye desperately hoping he didn’t see it as she went to fix the strings behind him. Erratic. That’s how Lila’s heartbeat felt. But yes, Zuko fully saw the milky hue of her eye. He too had a similar reaction like the three men, but not one of distaste or disgust. Just surprise, but he soon discarded what the feeling once he processed what she asked.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern, servant.”

Cold with an edge of warning. That’s all Lila could sense wrapped around his heated words. Especially when he said her name. Now onto the left shoulder greave, Lila peeked at him again. He was looking straight ahead, his face taut with contemplation? Lila couldn’t tell. With a beat of hesitation, she licked her lips. She could already tell he was beginning to lose patience. If she were to say another word, she didn’t doubt he’d snap. Her brain was telling her not to say anything, she was walking on thin ice that was melting fast, but her mouth felt differently.

“May I speak Prince Zuko?”

“No, you may not. Finish fixing this and go. I don’t need to hear what you have to say,” Prince Zuko snapped in restraint.

All while arguing with herself, Lila moved to squat in front of him and began tying the laces of his shin guards. She did not want to witness another fire nation attack on any village again, especially when innocent people are involved. Though she felt if she were to talk out of turn, prince Zuko would surely lose his patience and probably punish her. Besides, what could someone like her do, realistically? No one has ever listened to her. She has no voice, but still. They are my people, too. I have to try.

Opening and closing her mouth Lila fought to push the words out.

“The water tribe did nothing-”

Unnaturally warm hands cut through her sentence and seized her wrists as she was forcefully pulled up from the floor and against Prince Zuko’s armor-clad form. Strands of curls unintentionally tangling in his grasp. Chest to chest, with Zuko holding her wrists and hair between them, he glared down at Lila. Fear radiated off her body in waves. She felt way too exposed without her eye patch and a dull ache throbbed from her finger when her hands bumped against his armor. White and brown eyes flickered between golden ones before looking around the room to avoid his stare, but to no avail. Calloused fingers laced with hair firmly, but not painfully, gripped her jaw turning her face to his, thumb pressing into her cheek.

Patience completely evaporated, Prince Zuko ground out, “I told you not to speak, didn’t I?”

With shuddering breaths and petrified eyes, Lila could only nod faintly. Paralyzed by his overwhelming build the words on her tongue melted, sliding down her throat. Releasing her jaw, Prince Zuko let go of her wrists, strands of hair snagging on his fingers as he dropped his hand. Lila winced from the sudden plucks of her curls. Shaking the hair off he rubbed the bridge of his nose, shut his weary eyes and sighed,

“Finish the last shin guard and leave.”

No reply came from the young girl as she dropped and tied the shin greave. A slight tremor in her hands. Once she was done she stood up with her head hanging low.

“I’ve finished Prince Zuko, do you require anything else before I go?”

“No.”

Long hair cascaded over her shoulders as Lila bowed. Rising back up she somehow managed to calmly exit the prince’s quarters, his eyes narrowing on her retreating form the whole time. With the loud thud of his metal door closing, both Lila and Prince Zuko let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

Lila had half a mind to go to uncle Iroh’s room and talk with him about what his nephew was planning to do. Talk with him about how the Prince was nothing like what Iroh describes him as but decided against it since he was most likely napping. It was hard for her to believe there was kindness in the Prince’s heart when all she’s ever seen from him was anger and rage. You could see his brutality and hate in the way he bended, too. Once she exited the command tower the sun was still hanging onto the horizon, waiting for someone to look at what it created, but a thick mist now covered the expanse of the water the ship navigated. When out of the blue, loud crackling emanated below the ship. Lila ran to the front and hunched over the edge of the railing to see what was going on.

Squinting through the mist, she saw the ship’s hull was no longer sailing on water but breaking and cracking through solid ice. Snapping her head up Lila saw the ground splitting toward the water tribe’s village! One large jagged fault traveling right through the middle of it. Prince Zuko’s ship rammed through the iced floor like it were a piece of paper. Lila couldn’t help but panic internally, they were coming extremely close to the water tribe!

“If this ship doesn’t stop we’re going to run right through!” she gasped in horror.

From what she could see in the vapory haze, the southern water tribe was quaint. A wall made of snow circled the tribe, acting as a barricade. Small igloos littered within. From behind, the sound of the Prince and his men’s shoes clanked across the deck toward the front of the ship, preparing to disembark. Anxiety, fear, and apprehension swirled within her. This scene hitting way too close to home for her liking. She never signed up for this, well she didn’t sign up for this at all, but still. The three years she’s been on this ship she never really thought about what capturing the avatar looked like or being there to see it. All Lila knew was she didn’t like where this was headed at all. The prospect of the past repeating itself right before her eyes scared her.

When she turned to watch them pass Lila’s eyes caught prince Zuko’s for a brief moment. Again, he found nervousness swimming in her stare, and again, he didn’t care.

Finally, the ship came to a halt with an ominous screech. Powerless, Lila watched with bated breath. Her eyes flitting between the native people down below and Prince Zuko’s men. She swore her heart was going to pop out of her chest from how hard it was pounding it almost hurt. Suddenly the hull of the ship dropped, turning into a makeshift ramp, a loud thud resonating in the air. The ship's metal easily overpowered the tribe's barrier, the snow crumbling as it gave into its weight.

Faintly Lila could hear a feminine voice yelling for someone to get out of the way. The shrill scream making Lila’s heart drop and then kick up in speed, assuming the worst. It felt like her feet were bolted to the floor as she helplessly watched the Prince and his firebenders disembark the ship. Visibly shaking, Lila leaned over the front of the ship again to see, legs feeling like they were going to give out any moment.

From her spot, she could see Prince Zuko and his guards disembarking and a young water tribe boy with war paint coating his tanned skin, belt out a war-like cry as he charged up the ramp at Prince Zuko. The boy’s weapon of choice, a water tribe club, raised high over his head. He was easily overtaken. Lila winced when the Prince’s leg side swept the boy's club out of his hand, then kicked him in the face, sending the boy flying off the side of the ramp and into the snow. Lila could hear Iroh’s voice in the back of her head talking about how he knew his nephew wasn’t as corrupted as his other family members, but what she was seeing now proved otherwise. He was unlike what Iroh always tried to tell her. The Prince was brutal.

Zuko continued walking down the ship as if nothing happened. His steps were powerful and determined. The people of the tribe huddled up in one big group, trepidation and terror embedded in all of their blue eyes. With the men of the village off to war, Zuko was unsurprised to see the ones that remained were the women and children, except for the war-painted boy if you’d count him as a man. However, the longer no one spoke the more time was wasted in capturing the Avatar. The silence was so tense Lila felt it up on the ship. Zuko stopped in front of the crowd, his eyes sizing up each woman and child until his glare stopped on this one girl holding onto the arm of an elderly lady.

“Where are you hiding him?”

When no one spoke, both Lila and the young girl gasped when the banished Prince roughly pulled the elderly lady from the girl’s grasp.

“He’d be about this age? Master of all four elements?” Zuko demanded, shaking the woman by her for emphasis.

Again, no one answered him, they were all stunned in silence and fright. After a beat of quiet, Prince Zuko carelessly shoves the old woman back into the young girl’s arms. Both water tribe women gasping. Lila watches worriedly, praying up above that this village will be spared from the fire nation’s fury. Even from the ship, Lila saw the Prince tense up in frustration and knew what he was going to do next and whispered “no,” as he launched a wave of fire inches above the villager's heads. The women and children screamed and cowered before him.

“I know you’re hiding him!”

Below her, Lila saw the water tribe boy free himself from the snowy confines he was kicked into, the majority of his face free of paint as he picked up his club and ran at Zuko once more with another loud battle cry. At the last second, Zuko turned toward the annoyingly loud boy and dodges the boy’s attack, flipping him over his head when he swiped at the Prince. When he hit the ground Zuko punched another blistering fireball at him. Luckily, the tanned boy gathers himself rolling away from the blast, swiftly retrieving a boomerang that was strapped to his back and throws it at the Fire Lord’s son. It surprised both Lila and Zuko with how fast and strong he threw it, the air whistling as it narrowly missed the Prince’s face. Even where Lila was standing the boomerang would’ve whacked her in the face if she didn’t duck in time. All the while her eye followed the boomerang’s path. The boy was stronger than he looked.

“Even without bending,” Lila hopefully thought, “he’s handling himself well against the Prince. Maybe…this village won’t be ransacked.”

A growl erupts from the Crown Prince’s throat before he can shoot more fire at the irritating boy who just won’t quit, a little water tribe child cries out,

“Show no fear!” Throwing a fishing spear made of bone at his opponent. Again, he charged at Zuko, the spear positioned like he was going to run him through, but the Prince was prepared. “He lacks training,” Zuko gathered, easily breaking the spear in half with his wrist guards. He then snatched the bone rod from the boy’s hands, poking him repeatedly in the head with the butt of it until he fell on his bottom, and broke it in half again before throwing it to the ground.

On the ship, Lila’s eye followed the boomerang as it curled back around and headed back to the owner who threw it. With her eyes still on the weapon, she gradually turned and watched it spin at dizzying speed before it slammed into the back of Prince Zuko’s helmet with a loud thwack. Her eyebrows quirked in surprise as she wondered if the water tribe boy planned for that to happen, but her face fell when she saw the Prince standing menacingly over the boy’s fallen form. Fire jet out from his tightly clenched fists, the orange embers creating a dagger-like weapon.  

For a moment, Lila feared for what Prince Zuko would do to him, but surprise quickly overtook her as another younger boy, maybe about twelve or so, with a bald head and peculiar clothing zoomed through the middle of the fight out of nowhere riding on the back of a penguin. In the child’s hands was a staff as the penguin flew right under Zuko’s feet, sweeping his legs out from under him. The young servant girl gasped when the Prince fell over, the village children cheering for the child all the while. The said child sped past the kids sending up a wave of snow splattering them all in the face, their cheers ceasing for a moment at the unexpected smattering, but continued yelling anyway. At this point, as much as Lila was concerned over the fate of the water tribe, she didn’t know if it was morally okay for her to laugh at the ridiculousness of what just happened.

Still, relief filled her heart knowing that Prince Zuko’s plan of capturing the Avatar wasn’t going according to plan. No village, town, citadel, or nation should be destroyed in finding the Avatar. Her heart and mind were conflicted. Although she did want the Prince’s banishment to end, she didn’t think this was the right way of doing it. She remembered the stories her father told her about Fire Lord Sozin killing all the airbenders to find and end the Avatar cycle.

Briefly, Lila faintly heard the kid happily greet the boy and girl, their names being ‘Katara’ and ‘Sokka’, with Sokka dryly thanking the child, who she heard him call ‘Aang’, for coming. Lila’s eyes flicker between Prince Zuko and Aang, both of them assuming a defensive fighting stance as Zuko’s men circle Aang, closing in on him. Suddenly the kid swings his staff, and with each swing, he sends snow at the guards blowing them away. With the Prince being the last one standing Aang sends another blast of snow at him, but he was unmoved, uncle Iroh’s firebending lessons paying off.

“Looking for me?”

Processing everything the child managed to do in under ten seconds, Lila’s brows furrowed. He managed to disarm and beat all of Prince Zuko’s men like it was nothing just by throwing snow at them. At first, she thought he was a waterbender but he didn’t move like one. His fighting style was different from what her mother tried to teach her and different from what she’s seen earthbenders and firebenders do. It was unlike anything she’s ever seen. On top of that, the arrow on his head and the unusual choice of clothing he wore was vastly unfamiliar from the clothes in her hometown and the fire nation. Her eyes widened in realization. No, this child couldn’t be- Prince Zuko voiced her incredulity, the snow Aang bent at him melting off his shoulders and fists, “You’re the airbender? You’re the Avatar?”

~

A/N: OKAYYYYY!!! Just so you know I want you guys to keep Zuko’s “Contemplation?” face in mind. There’s a few things I want you guys to catch in part 2. Sorry if it was slow paced. I hope you enjoyed it and please excuse any grammatical errors. Have a blessed day! Chapter three may come later cuz I have a zuko request I want to write!

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