#someone who doesn't put their feelings last

[thegreeninyoureyes]

Sylus wants to comfort you but someone interrupts

thoughts thoughts random hurt/comfort scenario

[gender neutral MC/reader]

it is one of those moments where you need to search for him. fear is creeping in and your trembling voice cannot stand a call, so a few messages asking for help and his location would have to do. sylus knows you well enough to get the message, and walks towards the entrance of the base to try find you in the city's dark. he'd offer you a ride to his home if you needed to, because it is also yours in a way, especially when you need to escape, be it from physical or mental enemies.

you can run into his arms when you see him— he'll catch you. he always will.

"let's go inside, it's cold out here. you need something warm and for me to take care of you. I can carry you inside if you want."

if you start crying against his chest, there's no way he's moving away. sylus pulls you in a relaxed embrace, wrapping you in his arms and slowly letting his head rest on yours. you needn't speak, you needn't explain. he'll take you somewhere safe and quiet, somewhere you'll get to lie against him until words come back to you.

and yet in this occasion, the comfort doesn't last for long. perhaps it was a client, or a visitor you didn't know sylus had at the base. your thoughts start racing again when you hear angry footsteps followed by a voice asking for sylus in a demanding tone. perhaps I'm exaggerating it, you think about your own perception. but then sylus sighs.

"stay here, love. I need to... clear up some things to someone. I'll be back in a minute, I promise."

he takes a good look at you before even drawing away, and for a moment you think he was going to kiss your forehead. he doesn't, and you are suddenly left alone with the dim lights of his bedroom. the flame of the scary thoughts he was blowing away starts to reignite very against your will. but that's how struggling works, right? what can you cling to now?

you catch glimpses of the conversation, which slowly turns into an argument, and realise you might actually be part of what's caused it. unable to stand the atmosphere and the thought of bringing trouble to sylus, you try to put yourself together as decently as possible and get out of the base.

when the door closes on you, you start to run. you need to get away— from the noise, from trouble, somewhere safe, somewhere you no longer know where. the moment sylus realises you've left, he ends the argument in the middle of it, clearly pissed off at the other person's attitude. he rushes to get his jacket and also leave, hoping to still find you near the building.

the panic and its emotions didn't let you get far, and sylus approaches you with his motorbike. it's started to rain. you don't know if you've been crying or if the sky's been doing so for you. but sylus' first reaction upon seeing you is to take off his jacket and put it over you, and his care hits you like the strongest wave against your wall of insecurity.

"I'm gonna drive you home, and I'm hoping you don't mind me staying over this time. I'm sorry things got complicated in there. you'd never, ever, cause me trouble for needing me, and I'll make sure to make that clear to others, no matter who they are. now, hold on tight. I still owe you tonight."

if there's someone you can call when things aren't right, it's him. the one whose presence makes any place feel like a safe home.

[sunderwight]

scum villain fairytale AU where every night, the beautiful yet cruel peak lord Shen Qingqiu transforms from his regal self into modern nerd Shen Yuan (complete with physical and wardrobe changes).

to keep the secret of his transformations, Shen Qingqiu has taken to locking himself up at night. so every night for the past few weeks, Shen Yuan has awakened to find himself chained and kept prisoner in the bamboo house. since he can't ask anyone, he has no idea that he turns back into someone else come morning, he just thinks he's being drugged or something and that this is his entire transmigration experience -- a prisoner of someone he never sees or interacts with, presumably being fed and bathed while he's unconscious somehow since he hasn't died and doesn't stink, who also hasn't seen sunlight since all of this began.

anyway one day Shen Qingqiu gets distracted and doesn't do the chains up properly (qi deviation issues most likely), and Shen Yuan manages to escape just before dawn. he doesn't completely get away because Shen Qingqiu did set up a last ditch imprisonment array that teleports Shen Yuan back into the house before he can leave the property line, but he gets outside and he calls for help.

disciple Luo Binghe (out early because he got sent to do nine million chores all night and didn't sleep to begin with) sees this thin and obviously frightened young man (in chains!) break out of his master's house and plea for assistance, only to be swallowed up by what looks like some kind of sinister magical effect and vanish.

curiosity piqued, the next night, Luo Binghe masters some of his fear of his harsh shizun and sneaks over to the bamboo house. it takes a few nights more for him to actually work up the nerve to actually peek into one of the windows.

to his astonishment, he sees the young man obviously being held captive inside. what's going on? is it a demon? but then, why would Shen Qingqiu hold him captive instead of just killing him? Luo Binghe is still barely young enough to want to give his cruel master some benefit of the doubt, out of hope for his own prospects if nothing else, but this seems pretty fucked up. especially since the chained man is so pretty, and so scantily clad (shorts and t-shirt)...

anyway, Shen Yuan notices Binghe and starts calling out to him for help. but this frightens Luo Binghe off, because he doesn't know that Shen Qingqiu won't hear and come running. he feels badly though and eventually does go back, and after Shen Yuan assures him that no matter how he screams or begs for help he's sure no one will come (until Binghe, no one ever has), Luo Binghe cautiously stays put and starts talking to him. after a while the young disciple can only conclude that his master must be going down the mountain to spend his nights at the brothels. no one has seen him leave for such trips in months, but he must have discovered a way to do so more secretively.

Shen Yuan has figured out since long ago that he transmigrated, although he doesn't know the setting, so he knows he can't entirely explain his situation to this random teenager. he also knows that there's a chance -- though it seems remote -- that the boy has something to do with his captivity, and isn't just the innocent bystander he seems to be. but with little to loose he's more inclined to trust and hope that this might give him an opportunity to escape.

meanwhile Luo Binghe is still cautious that this strange man might be a demon of some kind, or a trap or test on Shen Qingqiu's part, so he doesn't give his real name or tell Shen Yuan anything about the sect. gradually he becomes convinced of Shen Yuan's sincerity, even though he still doesn't dare go against Shen Qingqiu or actually set foot inside the house.

time passes, and Luo Binghe's visits become more regular. despite the lack of rescue, even just having someone to talk to is such a massive improvement that Shen Yuan doesn't complain. before long he gets the impression that this boy's situation isn't even much better than his own, as he is constantly sporting some bruise or visible injury or another, and offhandedly describes a lot of treatment that sounds frankly horrific as if he thinks it's simply normal. he figures he's in a cultivation setting and some kind of sect, though, and after a while he begins imparting tips and tricks and whatever he can think of to fill the silence with his mystery visitor.

this is eventually how he figures out that he's trapped in the world of PIDW, even if he doesn't quite figure out where or who with yet. because Luo Binghe describes some aspects of cultivation that would only apply to that hack job the author made of cultivation systems. which is a good thing because it lets Shen Yuan offer more specific advice, and also begin to try and make plans.

if he's imprisoned by cultivators, then one day Luo Binghe will probably arrive as part of his eradication of the sects. maybe Shen Yuan can beg mercy from him?

this becomes such an important fantasy that Shen Yuan begins to describe it to his little visitor, playing it off that he sometimes gets "visions" (and trying to help the poor kid some more, given that both of them are in danger in a stallion novel where no man is liable to live long in the protagonist's orbit).

at first Luo Binghe thinks that Shen Yuan has somehow figured out who he is, when the man begins to tell him stories of some great person of destiny who has the same name as him. but by then he's hooked so even though it's risky, he still keeps going back to the bamboo house at night, and after a few weeks he concludes that Shen Yuan really doesn't seem to realize that the name of his imagined demon emperor has anything to do with his visitor. he even describes Luo Binghe's own background and troubles to him, but offhandedly, as if he is just picking up loose details about someone else from a story or dream. even when Shen Yuan observes that the Luo Binghe of his stories has some similarities to the Luo Binghe outside the window, his does this in such a way that it just seems to emphasize that he has no idea that these "visions" he's started having are connected to his visitor. or that the villain Shen Qingqiu he describes is in fact his captor.

Luo Binghe guesses that these visions might be the reason Shen Qingqiu has locked Shen Yuan away. perhaps he is some kind of magical creature, if not a demon, and cultivators can benefit from stealing energy or blood or... other unsavory things from him, although Luo Binghe doesn't think Shen Yuan's predictions sound very accurate. he's still trying to figure it out when, in fact, one of those predictions comes true.

Shen Qingqiu declares that he's going into seclusion, and disappears into the lingxi caves. with him he takes a large box (big enough to hold a man and with vents on the sides), that he moves and handles himself, even though secluded cultivation doesn't usually call for a lot of luggage. from the box, just faintly, Luo Binghe imagines he hears the clink of chains. (Shen Qingqiu plans to lock himself into it every night.)

that night, when Luo Binghe goes to the bamboo house, he finds it completely empty. it's empty again the next night, too, no matter which windows he approaches. as the nights drag on he even grows bold enough to break into the bamboo house, but there's nobody inside.

Shen Qingqiu must have taken his prisoner with him into the caves. Luo Binghe cannot think of a reason to do that which is not nefarious, and he struggles to sleep each night, imagining terrible things that his cruel master could be doing to Shen Yuan as part of his efforts to improve his own cultivation. he can only pray that none of it proves fatal.

being locked in a box at night is pretty bad, but luckily one of the corners was kind of shoddily made, so Shen Yuan manages to get out of it after the second night. he's still chained and he can't leave the circle of an array Shen Qingqiu set up, but the cave is at least a change of scenery. Shen Yuan even feels inspired to attempt some cultivating of his own, although he worries that he's been moved to this weird place because someone caught his little visitor coming to the window, and he hopes that if so, no one has punished the boy (he knows that's a slim hope, given the kind of micro infractions his visitor has apparently been beaten over).

of course, there's a rampaging Liu Qingge qi deviating in the caves, so Shen Yuan gets to deal with that. Liu Qingge thinks he's having some kind of lingering fever dream when he gets rescued by some weird pervert at night, only to come to his senses and find he's being berated by a wild-eyed Shen Qingqiu instead.

Shen Qingqiu is not happy that Liu Qingge's rampage put him in proximity with his incredibly pathetic werewolf curse, the only relief is that the idiot seemed to be too out-of-his head from a qi deviation to remember most of it. and also apparently his "other self" saved the man's life, which Shen Qingqiu is just going to attribute to dumb luck. Shen Qingqiu is 100% convinced that this curse he's under is designed to get him killed or disgraced.

meanwhile, despite his fears about Shen Yuan's state, Luo Binghe does remember that the man told him about a demon attack that followed Shen Qingqiu going into seclusion. he's not sure what to expect, but somehow he isn't as surprised as he should be when Sha Hualing and her goon squad turn up. he is grimly terrified when the fighting tournament starts, and he sees the demon who matches the description of the one he's meant to fight and he can't imagine that working out in his favor... but Shen Yuan was perfectly adamant that despite the difficulty, Luo Binghe would win.

if he wins, does that mean the rest of it comes true? that Luo Binghe is a half heavenly demon, that he will one day become the strongest person alive, emperor of the three realms and owner of the largest harem ever to exist? the one person Shen Yuan seems to think might rescue him from his prison?

the idea of it (well, some of it) gets Luo Binghe through his fight. and then of course Meng Mo shows up, and Shen Yuan is pulled into the subsequent dream and figures out who is "mysterious visitor" really is and is kind of like, oh shit I gave Luo Binghe spoilers about his own destiny. shit. well. done is done...?

Luo Binghe is alright with most of it though. the Abyss sounds deeply unpleasant and he doesn't actually want any wives (so many nights spying on Shen Yuan lounging around in barely nothing and some chains have definitely led to some epiphanies on his part), but if Shen Yuan says he can survive it, he believes him.

and then he will rescue Shen Yuan. after the Abyss he's also completely sold on ruining and killing Shen Qingqiu too. there are no downsides and this plan cannot possibly go awry!

[ragana62]

Hermione doesn't break rules openly, because she knows that having the aura of following rules means that when someone starts looking at the trio for who was responsible for all the laws broken, she will be written off on principle. She knows that being the responsible one gives her protection, and it gives all of them an escape route should things go badly.

I have always held it as a survival tactic. It's Hermione knowing that nobody even notices the quiet, polite, bookworm in the corner who just keeps her nose down and always turns in her work, with extra credit, perfectly complete a day early at least. The magical world is a dangerous place, she doesn't know anyone there at the start, and the people she does know have made clear to her on observation that even for those the magical world doesn't hate on sight, there's not much of a guarantee of help coming much less help that can do much of anything in the face of some of the opposition. She needs to fade into the background, because being in the spotlight is a target, and if she is going to take the spotlight, it needs to be for something positive like her academic work where she can still be written off as 'one of the good ones'.

And... it works. First year Hermione can walk up to multiple professors and say 'It's my fault, I read about trolls and thought I could stop it before it hurt anyone, they were just helping me' and every last one of them just nods and says 'yes, that seems perfectly plausible, good job boys, perhaps we don't do that again Hermione'. Second year Hermione already knows how to brew multiple NEWT level highly controlled potions and can steal the ingredients to make them, brew the potions in broad daylight, and turn up into the hospital wing when one goes wrong looking like a were-cat, and it raises no questions. The assumption is that she was just trying to work ahead and made a mistake, it absolutely wouldn't be that she stole ingredients to knock students unconscious and stick them into a closet so her friends could break into another house's common room while impersonating them. We see the pattern time and time again.

Hermione doesn't openly break rules, so her teachers, her peers even, don't look at her when a rule is broken, and more than that, if something goes wrong in the pursuit of breaking rules, she can bullshit her way out of it with little more than a 'oops, I was just really excited to try something new I learned and it went a little wrong, I'm sorry' and the problem goes away. And that's exactly why she feels confident she can get away with putting Rita in a jar, or stealing books from Dumbledore's office after sixth year, or any number of other things. Because she already has gotten away with things like that, and quite frankly, even if she does get caught, all she has to do is say 'I'm sorry, I was just really interested in some new reading material and didn't think he would mind since it was to help Harry...' and McGonagall will ignore it, or 'She broke the law, look, unregistered animagus! I was just trying to be responsible and help, especially with all the bad things happening around the tournament, you don't think she might have something to do with that, do you?' and everyone will just say 'ah yes, Hermione was just trying to enforce the rules and got a little overzealous, this is why we're going to make you a prefect. Maybe we need to put a little more thought into how we do that next time, okay? In the magical world, we tell an adult these things, instead of just jumping straight to trying to catch the perpetrator ourselves.'.

(I also think this is why Dumbledore is so confident in just saying 'two turns, you can save them both, have fun kids' and knowing she will know what he means. He has a rather similar understanding that appearances will always matter more than actions when it comes to consequences, even if I don't always agree as much with the actions he chooses to use appearances to cover over, and I think he recognizes that in her as well.)

i love how hermione has such a rule following aura that everyone ignores that she is the real rule breaker of the trio. harry sneaks out at night sometimes. hermione straight up kidnapped a whole woman and held her prisoner in an enchanted jar. even tom riddle didn't do that.

[masoncantthinkofaname]

My advice as someone who has shifted many times

Got some really sweet comments on my last post, and I decided I should probably get myself over my fear of posting here. I just love everyone in this community, you're all family to me💚

First, and most importantly, coffee:

When I posted my introduction here, a couple of months ago, I felt like I was already quite an experienced shifter. 4 kids, the most amazing husband, a life outside of this reality longer than I lived within it.

Looking back on it now, more than 500 years later, 3 more kids, 4 grandchildren, I was almost like a baby still, and even at this moment in time, I feel like I'm only at the start of my journey.

However, for the people that know my tiktok account, I have shifted to a lot of places by now. Experienced immortality as a human, as a deity, I've seen different cultures practice shifting, and taught shifting to every single one of me and my husband's children.

My main purpose in coming back here, is to help others achieve what I finally managed after years of trying. I want you all to pursue your dreams, and find the infinite happiness you so deserve.

So here is some advice:

Shifting itself is extremely simple. You want something, you get it. The concept of the reality that we're in doesn't allow for instant 'manifestations', but that doesn't mean you can't do it. It just means that, this reality by itself, doesn't have the rule of ''you desire something = you get it.'' That's where humans came up with the term ''manifestation,'' but it's simple really; you persist in wanting something, so you shift somewhere you have it. How easy that is can depend on the person, but every single one is capable of doing it, it's not technically any more difficult.

There are realities out there where, ''you want something'' does equal ''you get it,'' the term manifestation wouldn't even exist in those places, it's just as natural as it is for you here to feel as though you struggle attracting your desires.

I do not want to be rude to anyone, but there is no key to shifting. Anyone claiming they have the method to shift, or know the key to it, is overcomplicating it. Shifting is shifting, you don't need anything for it. Just existing, being aware, that's all you need to shift. HOW you do it, depends on the person. Assumptions, methods, intention, they're all tools to help you, but they're not the key.

You can shift while showering, while taking a dump, you can jump in the air and yell ''Yippie!!!'' to shift if you would believe that it works. An actual method? A joke method? There's no difference between them. The only real difference? You assume one to work, and one to not do anything, and that's where our limited mindsets are created.

I've seen so many different groups by now. People that shifted through meditation, through rituals, a group that would quite literally dive into a lake that they saw as magic, but also people that simply just, decided they wanted it, and shifted seconds later. They were raised with those beliefs, so they work for them.

And you here? You're raised in a society that tells you that you have to work for what you want, that a dream life is impossible, nothing is for free. And then you wonder why you struggle with shifting, why it's so hard to believe that you can do something so incredibly simple. Your struggles are valid, it is not your fault.

As an awareness you're so much more than the 3d, you're so much more than the body or brain you're aware of. You're simply a guest in this body, until it expires or you choose yourself to move on, but that doesn't take away that while you're here, you have to deal with your experiences, memories, and taught mindsets from this place.

That's why, the biggest advice I can give you, is to listen to yourself. Not society, not other people, no one who tries to tell you that they know ''the way.'' If someone's method aligns with you, that is amazing, and definitely put it to practice. But don't force yourself to go through methods and practices that don't feel right for you. If you dread doing it, it's not for you. Find something fun, something that fits your routines and beliefs.

Remember that time has no meaning. 5 days, 5 months, it's not going to matter in 3000 years. Literally nothing can stop your existence, nothing that could happen to you in this reality can ever stop you from existing.

There is no pressure, eternity is waiting for you, be kind to yourself. You are exactly where you're meant to be. It doesn't matter how you shift, so don't make it a chore. Script, create scenarios, daydream, make up your own rituals or find the most fun ways to set intention. You don't need hour long methods of counting, starfish positions and difficult affirmations. Your desires are already heard, your subconscious already knows where you want to go, so enjoy the ride until you get there💚

[tactical-jellyfish]

How the 141 handles long-term relationships

Warnings!: Nothing, other than a reference to Simon's dad. Just silly fluff to tide my sillies (you guys) over until the new chapters of the big boy fic(s) are done :)

Also: Price isn't included in this because I wrote a fic where he's an absolute asshole and accidentally made myself dislike him. Might add him later, idk.

Simon Riley is not nearly the stern man everyone thinks he is when he's at home.

It's kind of funny, really, but he's quiet, and he is stupid in love (assuming he already trusts you as a partner, which, if he's dating you, he does). Something like a cat, really.

He wants to be in your vicinity, always. He wants to know you're safe and okay at every hour he can, but sometimes he can't handle all that lovey shit.

This is why I do think Simon would spring for someone who is very quiet, and not very touchy. He adores that, he really does. It would be even better if you didn't mind having a big, bulky man staring at you while you work for hours on end.

It's to the point that, when the rest of the task force comes over, they aren't sure if you're a roommate or a spouse(?) until they see Simon gently bump his forehead with yours, watch how he follows you the same way a prissy longhair will trail after its nonchalant owner.

Price pulls you over that night and tells you that you have his full permission to marry the lieutenant. Simon hears him, but he doesn't say anything.

Another thing: He wants desperately to take your last name. It doesn't matter if it's stupid, he wants it so badly.

He's a bastard even with a father who was a bastard. His name links him back to corpses and an abuser, he wants to be rid of it. He won't ask, but if you do, he cries.

You've seen Simon cry before. You have. Mostly after nightmares, the especially bad ones. This is nothing like that.

He cries of joy before you twice. The first is when you let him take your last name, and the second is on your "wedding" day.

There is no ceremony, just a short trip to the courthouse. He cries anyway, watching you sign the papers, pulls you into a firm hug as he sniffles into your shoulder, tells you how much he fucking adores you.

He won't let you forget that. Ever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny MacTavish is a harder task.

He's always one very predictable sort of way in his relationships: Playful. Loving and witty, always ready to tease.

Sure, there are days he's tired, days he's beat to the bone and he just wants to collapse and let moss grow over him, but he sees you and he gets a shot of something divine.

It doesn't matter who you are, really. Sometimes he needs you to match the energy a little, but other than that, he could get on well with any partner, as long as love is reciprocal.

Weddings, though... it depends.

This is where most of my more personal headcanons come into play here. I really think Soap's family is very Catholic. And that Soap is very bisexual.

If his family doesn't know (assuming the relationship is straight, too), it's great! It's a packed venue, sure, but it's raucous in the loving, familial way.

Soap wears his best kilt, cries a little as you walk down the aisle and kisses you so long his mother smacks him over it.

If not (he got kicked out, presumably years before)... it's much less fun.

He still adores you, truly, but, again, it's a bit solemn for him. Seeing you, perfect you, ready to marry a man who has no family left who wants him, it's a nasty feeling.

Johnny sees you the way he thinks everyone should. You're a person, yes, but of practically biblical levels of perfection, in his eyes. You've put up with so much, done so much, and you want him.

He won't ever get to show you to his mother, or his sisters, or his cousins, but he wants to. God, does he want to. He just knows they would have adored you, as they should.

But he can't. And it bums him out, it really does.

Still, he takes your face into his hands, and kisses you like the sinner he is, pours himself into your silhouette like he could somehow peel your ribs apart and find a space near your heart, to sit and love you for as long as he can.

No one is there to smack him for taking too long, and you hold him. And that's enough.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyle Garrick is honestly the least challenging to end up in the good graces of.

He wants, more than anything, a peer. Someone who he can talk shit with and feel good confiding in.

So, of course he fell into a relationship with you. How could he not? Look at you. Brilliant, he'll say that. Brilliant, and an absolute menace with the silveriest tongue he's ever seen.

Again, like most, he's not really crazy about getting married. Not while he has a job so risky and at his age. It's more of an eventually, he feels no pressure to lock you down so fast, he already knows he has you, and that's enough for him.

This is most of the reason why the engagement is so long. I'm talking several years. Yes, multiple years. Moved in together, got a pet or two, even the rings.

And it's great, everything he could ask for. He comes home to a brilliant partner every day he's got the time, and he always wants to see you, because you're you. You can discuss, you can debate, and you can pull him over and tell him when he's being stupid.

The partnership works. And it keeps working.

At some point, you two were effectively married in everything but law, so you just forgot about the "wedding" bullshit and got one of his aunts to officiate in the living room and had a party that night with family.

Like any good soldier, Kyle has many issues with stress when he's home. His ultimate solution is to cuddle you whenever you won't be annoyed with it. Sometimes you talk, sometimes it's quiet, he doesn't mind.

He just wants you. Always.

And he knows he always will.

[sibsteria]

hi! just saw your 2025 rec list and that you write for spencer! i beg for a spence best friends/coworkers to lovers short lil sm sm (oneshot) if you're okay w that! also idk if you have a smosh/spencer series in the works but if you ever write one i can confirm I'll be your biggest fan love your fics can't wait to read more :)

@people-arelovers

Must be love on the brain...

Spencer Agnew x fem!Reader

Masterlist

a/n yes! absolutely, hello, hi, here I am- writing most of this in line for Pitbull tickets, dale (also combining two requests here, and I will absolutely be doing a series at some point fyi!)

Warnings/Content: alcohol, light angst, embarrassment, hinted pining, kissing, not proofread

Summary: A work's night out leads to drunken confessions...

''You don't have to drink to have a good time, y'know?'' Shayne shrugs at Spencer, his decision wary on joining the small group as he wasn't quite feeling up to a rager.

''There's not really a point in going to a bar if I don't drink, I'll just be surrounded by drunk people and feeling left out.'' He chuckles, he probably won't come anyway, his gaming chair is calling his name pretty loudly.

''Y/n is coming.'' Shayne throws it out there, he knew of Spencer's pining feelings towards the girl, a last ditch effort to get him to think about coming.

''Yeah, and I'll be boring and not drinking and- it's stupid.'' He runs a hand through his hair, thinking about you, how much he does in fact, love being around you.

''You know she doesn't care about that stuff?'' Shayne could almost feel himself rolling his eyes at his friend, how stubborn.

''Yeah...'' That's just one reason why he liked you so much, why you were his best friend.

Meanwhile, you were sat at your desk, having a similar conversation.

''I honestly don't think he's going to come.'' You smile, popping a piece of homemade hard candy Garrett had made.

''He might?'' Tommy smirks at you, he knew how you felt about the curly haired man.

''When has he ever, ever, come to a bar with us?'' You giggle at Tommy, shaking your head.

''There's a first time for everything.'' He brings up his hands, one forming an '0' and the other forming an 'I' before he puts them tog-

''Tommy! No!'' You whisper yell, you never know who could be around.

''Oh, come on, you want it. Live a little, Y/n, sweep that little nerd off his feet.'' He raises his eyebrows as if to say 'think about it'.

''Someone as funny and pretty and as cool as him wouldn't even think twice about me, we are just friends.'' You sigh at your own reality, how you wish it wasn't true, but beggars can't be choosers and at least you get to see his face nearly every day.

''You are so stupid.'' He saw the way he looked at you, as if you had hung the stars just for him, why are you always so stubborn? At least you and Spencer have that in common.

''Shut up!'' You squint at him, grumbling before you turn to your computer, time to get some work done before you can go home and shower.

You were sat at your vanity mirror, painstakingly applying some makeup so you look some variation of decent- the bags under your eyes telling a story of fatigue.

Your phone beeps out a message.

Message from: Spimgler

< Hey, sitting this one out, have a great time- miss you! >

Of course, but you couldn't blame him, a night in bed sounds a lot better than unwanted mingling with strangers right now but Tommy would have your head if you didn't come.

You down a glass of wine for your nerves whilst getting ready, you hate getting hit on and it’s not uncommon.

“Told you he wouldn’t come.” You grin at Tommy, you being right once again, although you wish you weren’t- maybe if he was here you wouldn’t feel so out of your depth.

“Yeah, whatever.” Tommy hands you a drink, he had been there a little while before you arrived.

The drunker you let yourself get, the more your mind wouldn’t let up on thoughts of Spencer. The smell of his shampoo as he leans into on one of the couches, the softness of his touch as hugs you when it all gets a bit too much to handle, the teasing smiles he shot at you like bullets when he tries to make you laugh. You get more and more sour as the night progresses, shooting down each potent bomb of liquor and strongly poured drinks.

As expected, just as you had unfortunately lost your group, you were approached by a man. But long gone was the slightly sober discomfort and combative attitude you would have once wore, a drunken mess of social embarrassment lies in its place.

“You know, my friend Spencer is so pretty-“ You hiccup, leaning with your elbow on the bar and cheek in your hand.

“Um, I asked if you wanted to dance with me?” The guy raises an eyebrow at you.

“I want to dance with Spencer! God, I miss him so damn much, I love him…I’m- I love him a lot-“ You frown, sniffling a little, why wasn’t he here right now.

“Okay…” He looks around the room, wondering if you were here all alone.

“Need to see him so bad, can you call Spencer?” You yawn, giggling as you imagine his adorable little voice.

“Not-not really, I don’t know this dude-“ He’s urgently scanning around now, he swore he had seen you with some people- a lanky brunette, a shorter blonde guy, a blonder girl, two dark haired ladies who were screaming at the table together where he first saw you-

“He’s so smart, y’know? So pretty and God, I wish he knew it. He’s funny…too funny for me- I love Spence-“ The man you were currently borderline harassing came into quick thanks as the lanky brunette neared you, clearly recognising you and starts to laugh at your words.

“Okay, okay. C’mon Y/n, stop professing your love for Spencer to strangers.” Tommy mouths a ‘sorry’ at the guy and he just half smiles, awkwardly- it was his choice to approach the plastered girl at the bar, anyways.

“Spencer…” You whine, dragged away by Tommy, your cheeks are flushed and you can’t even walk straight.

“Want me to call him, to come get you?” Although you harboured strong, strong feelings for the man- he knew he was also your best friend and could handle you in this state, and would also drop anything to help you. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to meddle and progress things along- a hope you would possibly spill your guts to him. It was no secret that Spencer returned your feelings, except to you.

“Yes!” You scream in excitement, he walks you outside for some fresh air, you slump down on the pavement. Tommy calls Spencer from your phone, he’s more likely to pause whatever game he is playing to answer your call.

“Y/n, hey, you oka-“ His voice holds a happy tone as he answered.

“It’s Tommy, hey look, could you- stop lying down on the dirty street!” He yelps at you as you don’t feel like sitting upright anymore, “-could you come and pick her up? She’s a bit of a mess and honestly past the point of enjoying herself, just want her home safe.

“Be there in ten.” Is all he says before buttoning the phone down, Tommy sighing in relief- he just didn’t want you to end your hurt- you were actually pretty funny right now all things considered.

“Y/n, honey, he’s on his way.” He sits next to you, placing an arm around your shoulder, comforting you.

“Who?” You look at his completely quizzical.

“Spencer-“

“Spencer’s coming?!” You smile, dreamily, squealing a little, oh yeah, this was going to be a perfect disaster.

It had been just under ten minutes as he pulls up a metre or so away from the two of them, getting out of his car and heading straight for his best friend.

“Thank you, thank you! She needs a whole lotta’ rest.” Tommy stands up and tried to bring you up with him but you whine out, not wanting to move just yet. “I am so sorry for what you may be about to go through.” Although he’s smiling, indicating he is not sorry at all.

“Have a good night.” Spencer nods curtly, locking his car just in case before sitting next to you.

“When is Spencer getting here?” You mumble into your arms, head in your knees.

“Peekaboo.” An airy tone to his voice as your head shoots up.

“Oh- Spence!” You shriek, wrapping your arms around him tightly, though you had done it many times before- he still couldn’t help his heart as it beat a little faster.

“H-hey, beautiful, you doing okay?” You giggle as he talks to you, beautiful, he says.

“You’re the beautiful one, stupid.” You lay your head on his shoulder

“Oh, yeah?” He’s caught a little off guard.

“Mhm, pretty, pretty…” You sigh as you nuzzle into him, jesus, how much did you drink.

“I’m pretty to you?” He automatically goes for the teasing avenue, combatting how he feels with a joke.

“Obviously, I wouldn’t be in love with you if you weren’t.” You scoff as if it’s common knowledge, his mouth gapes open, he’s…what?

“What?” He repeats his thoughts.

“What?” You yawn, still happy as a baby on his shoulder.

“You just said- you’re in love with me?” He asks it as a question, you probably just mean a friendly ‘I love you’.

“Yeah…but you don’t like me back though, so it’s silly of me. You’re just so pretty and amazing and- I’ve loved you since I first met you…” You look as if you’re falling asleep, Spencer’s head is a flurry full of confusion- he feels like he should be hyperventilating right now.

“I…” This was definitely a talk for sober Y/n, no matter how much he wanted to tell her he loved her right now.

“It’s okay…I’m used to it.” It’s like you can’t quite recognise this is reality and not a nightly dream of yours.

“I’ll drive you home? Or-“

“Can we have a sleep over?” You blink up at him, wondering why you are seeing three Spencers.

“Sure…” He bites his lip, you were extremely cute like this, usually you would be so stubborn and nonchalant and cool.

The drive back is surprisingly uneventful, you practically passed out in the passenger seat, head against the window after he had told you you cant hug him whilst he drives.

“Your car smells good…smells like you.” You smiled at nothing, a patter of rain beginning to hits the windows, lulling you into serenity. Jesus, you can’t keep saying that shit whilst he’s driving, now all he wants to do is look at you and listen to the adoring words. Was how he smelled comforting to you?

He had managed to get you through his front door easier than expected, you were willing to follow his every word.

He gave you some privacy as you haphazardly dressed yourself up in a backup pair of pyjamas you had left at his house, he hears a few bangs and nearly opens the door to check on you but ultimately decides maybe that’s not the best idea- he wants to respect your privacy as always.

“Spence!” You shout, laying on his bed already, you were so ready to sleep.

“You ready to go to sleep? You got a brutal hangover waiting for you tomorrow.” He grins at you as your pout into the air.

“Ugh.”

“I’ll let you settle down.” He whispers, attempting to walk away. You slept in the same bed more than once before, whenever you had slept over but…he just knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep next to you tonight- repeating what you had said to him over and over again, overthinking and-

“Can you stay a little? ‘Till I fall asleep?” How can he say no as your sweet, tired voice tweets up at him.

“Till you fall asleep.” He confirms, his heard stammering as he moves to sit next to you, back against the headboard as you lay, you inch towards him touching his arm with you nose and he wants to explode. He can feel the air you breathe through your nose, hitting his arm as you slowly fell into slumber, a subtle smile on your face.

What was going to happen tomorrow?

Your head throbs as you stir, already feeling the nausea set in, your tongue sticking to your mouth due to how dehydrated you were. You smell something that you recognise, something that’s not your house…oh, fuck.

Memories from last night violently hammer at your head, or was that just the hangover? You fucked up so hard, you told him you love him? What were you thinking, clearly you weren’t at all.

Your eyes blink open, his bedside table catching your attention. There stood a big glass of water, some painkillers and…a note?

Good morning,

If you are reading this, take these pills before you leave the room, I can hear your headache from here.

-S

Was he going to be angry? Upset? Uncomfortable? Oh, god, you have ruined your whole relationship with him.

You do as he had said, slamming the pain relief in your mouth before washing the pills down with two thirds of the glass.

Maybe you could sneak out, facing your bad, bad drunk decisions seemed like a nightmare.

You creep to the pile of your stuff in the corner of the room, slowly changing into your clothes, not putting your shoes on yet just in case.

You pry open the door, peeking at the space outside, no sign of Spencer.

You quietly move towards the front door, you had gotten away with it- a loud creak sounds from a floorboard beneath you- nearly, you had nearly gotten away with it?

“Y/n?” He follows the sound to its source. “Are you…leaving?” He can’t blame you for wanting to.

“Um, sorry. It’s just-“

“Yeah, I know, you didn’t mean it- it’s okay.” Forever the respectful man he was, he never lashes out, never got angry- he just…pretended he was okay.

“Mean what?” You want to know what he thought, if you had embarrassed yourself as much as you thought.

“Look, last night, you were drunk and it’s fine- you were just being the best friend you are- you don’t need to feel sorry about it.”

“Spence….” You put down your shoes and your bag.

“You said you were in love with me, but you didn’t mean it like that, it’s okay.” The look in his eyes told you he was not okay, was he…upset?

“I-“

“Just- I’ll drive you home, okay?” He half smiles, trying to look normal, the room goes silent as you decide it’s all or nothing.

“I meant it…by the way.” You hold your breath, if you had read the situation wrong you basically just doubled down on the burning crash that was your friendship.

“You- what?” He stops putting his shoes on, looking up at you.

“I…I am, in love with you…” Your chest heaves a little faster as the tension in the room was becoming too much.

“You…are?” Shit, you had misread it.

“Okay, no, it’s fine- just drive me home, forget what I said-“

“I love you. Too, I love you too.” He can’t meet your eyes yet, everything was up in the air, a pressure on your chest.

“No, I- I love you. Like, I want to be the person you see every morning, the person you wake up to. I am so in love with you it hurts, you are gorgeous and smart and funny and-“

“Stop.” Your breath hitches, was this it now?

“Y/n…I think you are the most beautiful person I have ever had the chance to know, to be best friends with and to…fall in love with. You are the first thought I have in the morning and the last one I have before I fall asleep. All I do is think of you, what is she doing? Is she happy? I bet she looks pretty right now, like all the time. Since you spilled coffee all over Damien on your first day- both of your awkward apologies and the both of you being too kind to be angry at the situation. You…I need you.” He’s standing in front of you now, looking down at you with those deep-set eyes, it was also a perk you him that you were shorter than him- a rarity. You can’t speak as you relay everything he said, all you want to do is kiss him, and he is thinking the same.

You tentatively step closer, his head leans down, aching slow and unsure, your hands come up to cup his cheek and steady yourself on his shoulder as you lean up. Your lips meet and it’s one of the sweetest things you’ve tasted, that could just be the Kickstart, but he kisses you with such care and emotion- you have never been kissed like this. Or maybe you have but it’s never felt like this- like it was meant to happen, like you were made for him. His hands delicately find their home resting on your hips, your mouths moving together- kissing him deeper.

Neither of you seem to want to stop but eventually it gets difficult to breath through just your noses.

“So…”

He smiles at you, he had a feeling his life was just about to become beautiful.

a/n update! guess who won the ticketmaster war is seeing pitbull ft shaggy in concert? me, dale xo

[fyeaheddiemunson]

Joseph was out in the wild, which means everyone is offended about something.

When it came to MegaCon, I went 100% for Joe. Matthew Lillard, Jamie and Matt Smith are people I would definitely like to meet again/or in general...but if JQ wasn't at MegaCon I never would have put the effort in.

I cannot recommend travel insurance enough . Man, i insured my flight, made sure i had a hotel reservation that would allow me to cancel 48 hours before check in. That way, in case he had to cancel or any reason, doesn't matter what it was, I would only be out the cost of admission into the con. It also wasn't a last minute cancellation. There was plenty of time to have gotten refunded if there was insurance on travel 🤷🏼‍♀️ If MegaCon was the same weekend of the Oscars i would have cancelled everything because let's be real, being at an Oscar party with co-stars in an upcoming release is better in the long run.

I am eternally grateful for my experience at Megacon, he's already forgotten but I'm still 🫠

But being totally real, he shouldn't have been there. He shouldn't be doing cons at all anymore. Why are people feeling so entitled as if they're owed things because they've watched someone's filmography?

Does a 30 year old man really need someone defending him on social media? Kind of. Some of you really need to be brought down to reality. You aren't owed anything. He's not a prostitute to pay to give you attention. Why people in the "fandom" can't just quietly leave if something is not for them anymore is beyond me. It's always gotta be post after post whining about every detail of everything that has nothing to do with them. And then talking back and forth with "anons" who somehow feel the same way but are scared to show their profile? Sure, Jan.

[httpvomitello]

Hiii could you do a George x Reader?

Where she's Sirius 's daughter and his family doesn't trust her and stuff because she's still related to people like Bellatrix and Narcissa and George gets into a heated argument with them over it? Something like that please!

Hello, helloooooo! Hope you like it ~ ♡

Blood and Loyalty *⁠.⁠✧

Summary: Being Sirius Black’s daughter meant being judged for the blood that ran through your veins. Despite fighting alongside the Order, the Weasleys still struggled to trust you, haunted by your ties to the Black family name.

george weasley x f!slytherin reader

The Burrow had never felt less like home.

You sat at the long wooden table, feeling the heat of the fire against your back, but it did nothing to thaw the ice settling in your chest.

“She’s still a Black.”

Bill’s words cut through the air like a blade, sharp and cold, and you felt your breath hitch.

The weight of the room pressed down on you as every Weasley in attendance either looked away or studied you with quiet suspicion. The judgment was suffocating, their silence worse than any spell.

It didn’t matter that you had fought alongside them.

It didn’t matter that your father had died for the same cause they claimed to fight for.

To them, you would always be the niece of Bellatrix Lestrange, the cousin of Draco Malfoy, and a member of a bloodline they had been raised to despise.

George sat beside you, his arm stretched protectively along the back of your chair, his grip on the wood tight enough to turn his knuckles white. You could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm ready to break.

“She is not like them,” George said, his voice dangerously calm, the kind of calm that only came before an explosion.

Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. “George, we’re not saying she is,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “But she was raised by—”

“I was raised by Sirius,” you interrupted sharply, your voice shaking with anger. “And he was murdered fighting against Death Eaters. He gave up everything for this war, and you’re sitting here acting like his daughter can’t be trusted?”

Charlie crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?” you shot back, your nails digging into your palms. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks very simple.”

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Look, it’s not like we think you’d—y’know—do anything. It’s just… you’re related to people who would.”

George let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, bloody brilliant, Ron. She’s related to Death Eaters, so she must secretly be one too? That’s your logic?”

Ron scowled. “That’s not what I—”

“Well, it sure as hell sounds like what you’re saying.”

Molly put her hands on her hips. “George, don’t take that tone with your brother.”

George turned to her so fast it was a miracle his neck didn’t snap. “Oh, don’t take that tone?” he repeated mockingly. “Right, because I’m the problem here. Not the fact that you all are sitting around this table accusing my girlfriend—someone I love—of being a bloody traitor just because of her last name!”

Arthur cleared his throat, trying to keep the peace. “No one is accusing her of anything, George, but you have to understand how it looks—”

“How it looks?” George scoffed, his ears burning red with anger. “You lot are the ones who go on and on about how family doesn’t define you, but the second it’s her, suddenly, it’s different?”

Fred, who had been quiet up until now, raised an eyebrow. “I mean… he’s got a point.”

Percy, of course, was unmoved. “We’re in a war, George. We have to be cautious.”

George slammed his fist against the table, making everyone jump. “Oh, bullshit.” His voice was shaking now, barely contained fury spilling over. “You want to talk about family? Fine. Let’s talk about family. Let’s talk about Sirius, who risked his life for years just so you lot could sit here and act holier than thou. Let’s talk about Andromeda, who got disowned for marrying a Muggle-born. Let’s talk about Regulus, who died trying to bring Voldemort down. But no, let’s not talk about that, because that doesn’t fit your little narrative, does it?”

Percy’s jaw tightened. “You’re being emotional—”

“OF COURSE I’M BEING EMOTIONAL, PERCY!” George shouted, pushing back his chair so forcefully it nearly toppled over. “THIS IS HER LIFE YOU’RE SITTING HERE PICKING APART LIKE SHE’S A BLOODY SUSPECT!”

You swallowed hard, throat tight as you looked around the table. The Weasleys—the family you had desperately wanted to be a part of—were staring at you like you were a problem to be solved.

It stung. Merlin, it burned.

George turned to look at you, and the fire in his eyes softened for just a moment. Then, his grip on your hand tightened, and he turned back to his family with the same unwavering conviction.

“I trust her,” he said, his voice quieter but no less powerful. “I love her. And if you actually knew her—if you actually cared to know her—you would too.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Fred was the first to speak. “You do have a bad habit of thinking everyone in Slytherin is evil,” he pointed out to Percy. “Remember when you thought Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin? Good times.”

Ginny let out a reluctant snort. “Oh yeah. And wasn’t there that time you swore our History of Magic professor was hiding Dark artifacts?”

Percy scowled. “That was a logical suspicion.”

George rolled his eyes. “Right. But my girlfriend is the issue.”

Arthur sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “No one is saying she’s the issue, George.”

George scoffed. “Sure as hell feels like you are.”

Molly, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. “We were wrong,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “And I’m sorry, dear,” she added, looking at you. “You’ve been nothing but kind to us, and we should’ve seen that instead of… everything else.”

Arthur nodded in agreement. “George is right. Family doesn’t define who we are. We should’ve given you more credit.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t everything.

But it was a start.

George, however, wasn’t done. “Yeah, well, next time, maybe don’t make my girlfriend feel like a bloody criminal before you get around to realizing that.”

Charlie sighed again. “Duly noted.”

Ron cleared his throat. “So… we’re all good then?”

George huffed. “Not even remotely, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Fred smirked. “Damn, mate, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this whipped.”

George turned to you then, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch so deliberate that it made your heart ache. “Yeah, well,” he said, grinning despite himself, “she’s worth it.”

The tension lingered long after dinner had ended. Though Arthur and Molly had offered their apologies, you could still feel the weight hanging in the air. You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but every glance in your direction felt like it carried the ghost of doubt.

George had barely left your side since the argument. His hand was either on your back, your shoulder, or intertwined with yours, as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.

You sat curled up in one of the worn armchairs in the Burrow’s living room, staring into the crackling fire. The warm glow danced over the walls, casting shadows that flickered like ghosts. George sat on the floor beside you, his back against the chair, absently playing with your fingers as he watched the flames.

“They’ll come around,” he murmured, breaking the silence.

You sighed. “Will they?”

George turned slightly, looking up at you. “They bloody well better,” he said, a little fire still left in his voice. “I’m not going to spend every holiday listening to them question you when they should be questioning why Percy is still allowed at the table after the Ministry stunt he pulled.”

That made you huff out a laugh. “That’s different.”

“Oh, sure,” he said, nodding sarcastically. “He outright betrays the family, but yeah, let’s grill my girlfriend because her aunt happens to be a psychopath.”

You rested your chin on your knees, your fingers tightening slightly around his. “I just… I get it, George. Even if it hurts. The Black name is cursed in their eyes.”

George shook his head firmly. “Not to me,” he said. “Not to Sirius.”

At the mention of your father, your throat tightened. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly at the fire. “He’d be so pissed if he saw how they treated me tonight.”

“Oh, furious,” George agreed. “He’d hex Percy’s eyebrows off just for fun.”

That actually made you snort. “And then he’d hex yours, just to be fair.”

George grinned. “Yeah, well, I’d take it as an honor.”

Silence settled between you again, but this time it was warmer, more comfortable. George kept playing with your fingers, tracing patterns on your palm.

Finally, he spoke, voice quieter now. “You are family, you know.”

You looked down at him, his profile bathed in the fire’s glow. “To you?”

He turned fully this time, twisting so he was kneeling in front of you, resting his arms on the armrest of the chair. His eyes were soft but steady, filled with something deep and unwavering. “To me,” he confirmed. “And to Fred. And Ginny. And, well, half of them already admitted they were being stupid, so give it time. They’ll see what I see.”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “And what do you see?”

A slow smile crept across his lips, but it wasn’t playful—it was serious. And that was what made your breath catch.

“I see the girl who’s stronger than any of them,” he said. “Who’s spent her whole life proving she’s more than a name. Who fights harder, loves deeper, and makes me feel like the luckiest idiot in the world just for being in the same room as her.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs. “George—”

“I love you,” he said, the words slipping out like they had always been there, like they had always belonged to you.

You sucked in a breath, barely realizing your hands had moved to his face, your thumbs brushing over the freckles on his cheeks.

And then you whispered, “I love you too.”

Before he could say another word, you closed the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that left no room for doubt.

George didn’t hesitate. His hands found your waist, pulling you down from the chair and into his lap, arms wrapping around you like he was never letting go.

And maybe, just maybe, he never would.

[mischievousmoony]

I’m blushing so hard at frat boy James!! What about the first time she comes over and meets the guys outside a party

hope i've done your idea justice! ty for requesting

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

⟢ frat boy!james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: references to drinking, technically american!james potter and american!marauders

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"It'll just take a minute," James promises. "We'll be in and out."

With his hand in yours, he leads you through the door, passing under the large Greek letters as you cross the threshold.

You have been seeing James for a month and a half. You never thought you'd be interested in a frat guy—you've never even step foot in one of their houses until now—but James has proven to be the opposite of what you thought a frat guy would be like.

James is a total sweetheart. Possibly the most thoughtful and genuine guy you've ever dated. He makes you feel special, always remembering the little things like your favorite flower or your drink orders at all your favorite places. He's attentive without ever being overbearing. But honestly, you don't think you could see him that way if you tried, always loving every bit of attention he gives you.

Today, he's taking you on a study date. He remembered that you were complaining about an upcoming exam in a class he's already taken, so he's grabbing his old notes and sitting you down in a quiet corner of the library so that he can help you study.

James would already have you set up in the library on the coziest chair with your favorite hot drink from the cafe if he didn't forget his old notebook in his room—which he felt rather sheepish about leaving behind.

So, here you are. James asked if you wanted to wait in the car, but you were curious to see the inside of one of these things. You half expected to see solo cups littering the floor, a pong table in place of a coffee table, and maybe even a few hungover frat guys strewn about the living room still sobering up from last nights antics.

You were a little surprised to find out that it was rather clean. You know from James that there was indeed a party here last night, but apparently they clean up nicely.

Although, you’re right about there being a pong table. But it is folded up and leaning against a wall for future use.

James guides you towards the stairs, but before he can even mount the first step someone appears in the foyer from a hall that you can see leads to the kitchen.

"Jamesie! Back so soon?" the boy cheers when his eyes land on his friend first. His eyes dart to you a second later, and something like recognition flashes in his expression. "Is this who I think it is?"

The boy has long, black hair that cascades just to his shoulders in soft waves, the kind that look effortless but too perfect to not be styled in some way. He stares at you with piercing blue eyes, making you feel oddly self-conscious, which might also have to do with the big smirk on his lips.

James squeezes your hand, sensing your nerves, but he'd bet money that they pale in comparison to his own. He's been nervous about bringing you around here. It doesn't have anything to do with you, or them (well, maybe he's a little worried they'll scare you off). You're really important to him, and so are they, and he's been putting a lot of pressure on introducing you to them. So, this unplanned visit has his palms sweating, which he's hoping you haven't noticed.

"Sirius," James greets his friend. "Yeah, this is Y/N."

Your eyes widen a fraction when Sirius immediately steps forward, taking your free hand to press a kiss to the back of your knuckles. "Hi, sweetheart, I've heard a lot about you. Truly, a lot. James has talked my ear off about you so I really feel like I'm meeting an old friend. I'm Sirius."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks but you're not alone, as James' own face turns rosy as he mutters a scolding "dude!" at his friend.

"Don't tell me you were just gonna sneak in without so much as a proper introduction." Sirius places a hand over his heart, a dramatic look of utter disbelief painting his face.

"We're just stopping by to get my notes. We have a very important study sesh to get to, didn't want to delay us too much," James explains, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"I promise it'll only be a short detour then. Pete and Remus are the only ones here anyway," Sirius says. His eyes dart to you again, something mischievous swimming within them. "We've all been dying to meet the girl that has our James so smitten. I mean, he's been going on and on and on. It's nice to finally have a pretty face to the name."

At Sirius’ words, you can’t help but crack a smirk as you peer up at James.

“Don’t look at me like that,” James murmurs, now rubbing his thumb across your knuckles the way he does when he gets anxious. James is sure the tips of his ears are bright red. Sirius will go to no end to embarrass him, but despite the fact that his heart might jump out of his chest at any second, James really only cares how you feel about the situation. James tilts his head toward you, lowering his voice to ask, "Are you up for meeting some of the guys?"

"Yeah," you say with a warm smile. "I'd love to meet your friends." And you really would. James talks a lot about them, too. Always reciting some story about all the shenanigans they've gotten into over the years.

You've been able to tell he's been overthinking bringing you to meet them. You get it—you're secure in James' feelings for you, so you know it's nothing personal. Plus, you were really nervous when James met your friends. To be honest, even though they were jokes, you're friends have made digs at frat guys before because of the stigma. You really wanted James and your friends to like each other, and thankfully, they really do and you had nothing to be worried about.

You hope that meeting his friends will have the same outcome and ease some of James' worries.

Sirius provides a generous introduction as you enter the kitchen. "Boys, it seems we have a very special guest in our midst this morning."

There are two guys sitting on kitchen stools who swivel around to greet you.

There's a lanky boy with mousy brown hair whose eyes dart back and forth between you and James before he directs a kind smile in your direction.

The other boy spins around mid-spoonful of a bowl of cereal. He abandons the utensil in his mouth to wave at you, his other hand occupied by the bowl resting in his palm.

Your eyes trail around the kitchen as James introduces you to them. It's rather large, as it would have to be to accommodate the large number of guys you assume live here.

You've also discovered the mess you thought you'd be stepping into. It seems that all of the discarded solo cups and beer cans have already been shoveled into a few trash bags, which are just about ready to burst at the seams as they wait by the back door to be taken out.

"I'm Peter," the boy with the cereal pipes up after returning his spoon to his bowl.

"Remus," the tall one introduces himself. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," you say. "You know, I've never been in a frat house before. I take it you all live here?"

Remus is the only one who shakes his head. "Not a brother," he clarifies. "Just unlucky enough to have them as my best friends."

"Oh, you know you'd be lost without us," Sirius says, rolling his eyes playfully. "And it's not a frat house, it's a frat home," Sirius says very earnestly. Too add to his dramatics, he pulls Peter into a hug (which nearly makes him fall off his stool) and raps his fist against his back as he pretends to get emotional.

Peter's laughing as he shoves, Sirius off. "Alright, man," he says, swatting Sirius' hand away as he ruffles his hair.

"Sirius had beer for breakfast," Remus informs you to excuse Sirius' behavior.

"Hey, I only had two and I know you're not suggesting I'm a lightweight," Sirius points at Remus accusingly. "Anyway, I was just telling Y/N how often Jamesie muses about her."

Remus clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Don't tease him too badly, Sirius.”

"It's not like it's not true," Peter shrugs, earning himself a glare from James.

You look up at James. His cheeks have deepened a few shades now as he glowers at Peter. You give his hand a squeeze to attract his attention, the expression on his face immediately softening when he looks at you.

“I think it’s sweet,” you say, encouraging a smile onto James’ lips. He drops your hand, only to wrap his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side. You nuzzle your nose against his shoulder, looking at him with expectant eyes. He knows what you’re asking for, and would rather hand his friends more ammo to tease him with than deny you, so he gladly plants a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“You two are sickening.” Sirius leans over the counter, propping his chin up with his hand as he sighs dramatically. “It’s adorable,” he adds.

“Wrapped around her finger, are ya?” Peter joins in on the teasing.

James keeps his eyes on you as he responds. “You bet I am.”

You tear your eyes away from James’ sweet gaze to address his smirking friends. “You know, I've heard a lot about you guys too," you say.

Sirius lights up with intrigue. "Oh, do tell."

"Well, Peter must be the guy to go to if you want to have a laugh. Every time James asks ‘Wanna hear a story Peter told me’ I know I’m gonna have to sit through several fits of laughter before he gets to the end of it," you say, nudging James with your elbow who nods along to confirm your story.

Peter puffs up his chest, proud to be known as the funny one.

"Remus," you continue, "I should've known you weren't a brother. James always tells me about how they drag you into things that you have to get them out of. If he hasn't told you before, he's very thankful for you. And Sirius. I think I've heard the most interesting stories about you."

"This should be good," Sirius says, a cocky grin on his face. "I've given James a whole catalog of legendary stories to tell about me."

"My favorite is the one that started with you trying to impress a girl by jumping into the pool from the roof and ended with you in the bushes after you tripped on the gutter,” you say, an air of sweetness in your tone and a smile on your lips.

The confident smirk drops from Sirius’ face and James snorts a laugh beside you. Peter cracks up, and even Remus snickers at the look on Sirius’ face.

"I think you’ve just won over Sirius," Remus says, watching as his grin returns.

“You got me, I can appreciate that,” Sirius says. “Why have you been hiding her from us for so long, James? I like her.”

"Yeah, I like her too,” James replies, squeezing you a little closer into his side. He doesn't bother trying to hide the broad grin overtaking his features. As he looks down at your giggling face, he can't remember what he was so nervous about.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[captain-huggy-bear]

With my PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) I take a ton of supplements like inositol and multivits and my most hated chore is putting my weeks worth in my pill organiser, even though its better than finding them all out in the morning from separate places. I feel like Clay does little things to make your life easier especially if they're little chores you hate. I also feel like he's a super supportive partner when you have a condition or illness, whether its changing his diet/lifestyle to help or just reminding you of things.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

You wander around almost the entire house trying to find Clay to no avail. It's the middle of the day and you've checked all his usual midday spots. The kitchen where he'd be eating lunch, the living room with a game on for him to study, the garden with Lucky, but still no Clay.

You reach the bottom of the stairs, frowning up them before shouting out his name. It's unusual for Clay to be upstairs during the day, but not out of the realm of possibility.

"Clay?"

You wait a few beats before you hear his voice calling back. Loud enough for you to hear like he knew you were near the stairs and not just down the corridor, knowing Clay he probably did. He had a strangely good judgement on sound direction and distance.

"In the bedroom, baby!"

You make your way up the stairs and down the corridor, stopping in the doorway of your shared bedroom to see him hunched over your weekly pill organiser. His large hands fiddling with pouring out the right number of each of your supplements for your PCOS, occasionally dropping a few on the vanity and swearing, especially some of the tinier ones. He's focused, meticulous, each day being done in order, both morning and night.

"Clay? What are you doing?" You take a step further into the room.

"Sorting your pills for you." You can see that but it still doesn't make sense to you. They're your pills, you always organise them, even though you hate doing it. Clay's never done it before, you've never asked him too, he's busy enough with the season as it is.

"Why?"

Clay stops what he's doing, closing the last compartment on your pill organiser and looking up at you with a confused look, brow, the one that's still scarred from the puck to the face, lifting.

"Baby, you hate doing it." He says it so matter of fact, like that answers your question, as he stands and starts making his way towards you, a few long strides closing the distance.

"Okay?"

"So I figured I could sort it out before I have to leave for the roadie this week, that way you don't have to worry about it." It's really sweet but also puts an odd sort of panic through you, a fear that he feels like he has to do this, like he feels forced to.

"You don't have to do that, I'll do it." You try to insist even when it's obvious he's finished sorting it for the week, even as he smiles at you with a patient sort of amusement. The sort reserved for someone who's being silly but endearingly silly.

"Sweetheart, I want to do it." Clay tugs you towards him by the hands until you're in his arms, his palms resting on your lower back.

"But..."

He cuts you off, forehead pressing into your own, eyes half-lidded, a soft sort of smile directed at you. He loves you and he wants you to understand that this isn't a chore for him, it's something he wants to do for you, something he takes a certain pride in. Something he wished he'd been doing from the start, rather than just thinking to do it now. He likes taking care of you.

"I want to make your life easier...you're already dealing with your PCOS. The last thing I want is for you to get stressed out about sorting your pills out or forget to do it." He sees the strain you're under, the stress of trying to eat right for your body, to follow a million and one rules just to manage your symptoms and keep your body from fighting you. How you fight with your body dysmorphia on bad days. The last thing Clay wants is you to have to worry about something he can help with. He can't fix everything, he can't take your PCOS away or make your body work for you the way you want it to. But, he can do this.

"...Thank you..." You whisper it close enough to his lips that your breath is warm against them and he has to resist the urge to kiss you before he can respond because Clay's not done yet.

"Baby, I love you...you don't need to thank me for taking care of you." He knows you often feel like a burden, some leftover from your childhood, where you grew to feel like your needs were too much. Like you had to be thankful always in order to keep someone around. He hates it because he doesn't need thanks for looking after you, for loving you. He just does it.

"I know. Still, thank you. I love you...even if you didn't do this sort of thing, Clay, I'd still love you."

"I know, sweet girl."

This time he does kiss you, mouth slanting over yours for a deep kiss as his hands slip to your arse. He can't always be there. His work gets in the way, but things like this? Taking care of your pills or making sure the food in the house is the stuff you can eat? That he can do and it's his way of making sure you're taken care of, of saying he loves you without having to say it.

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Jungkook as a Boyfriend

Disclaimer: No facts, all alleged, just my interpretation.

Alright, time to get to another person I am excited to do and see what I can get for him as a boyfriend. So, I will do four sections. The first one will be their light traits. The second will be their shadow traits. Third part I will go into their sexual energy as a partner. The last will be any final messages or anything else I can get and also any improvements they can make.

Light traits as a boyfriend:

He is someone who will do anything for love and find the love of his dreams. Once he has that person. He will do what it takes to keep that person and to keep their attention. I say he may want his person just to fall in love with him over and over again.

He will be about romantic gestures, buying gifts, doing sweet things for his person to make them happy and show his love in many ways. I can see him surprising his partner with flowers, gifts, or anything they desire. He will spoil his partner a lot. He will do whatever it takes to put a smile on their face.

I see him being someone who wants to inspire his partner and motivate them to do well. I see him have lots of wisdom and sharing that with his partner. They can go to him, and he will help lift their spirits and have some motivational words to say to them. It is like they would feel at ease around him.

He seems like a cuddler. Someone who would hold his partner dear to him and comfort them whenever they needed. Like if they have a bad day. He would just hold his person. I can see him also be a good friend and someone who just listens to his partner. He seems like a simple person when it comes to love, he just loves and isn't too complicated about things.

I see him having ideas to try new things together and will have plans to do those things with his partner. There will always be some new things he brings to the table. I think he just wants to try new things to keep the love alive and to not let things get too boring. So, he would come up with new things to keep things alive.

This was cute and I expected it to be this way.

Shadow traits as a boyfriend:

Okay, to start of he can be a bit of liar, and not always tell the truth. Also, he is very honest, a bit too honest, so he can be brutally honest to his partner and won't be afraid to tell it how it is. If you done something stupid, he will say it. He doesn't hold back on communication. Also, this man will always have something say, and that can get annoying. So, I find it funny that he can lie, but also be honest, he picks and choose when he wants to do that.

He can be a bit childish, yeah that will pop, a bit immature. He can be hard to reason with at times. And there could be some childhood wounds that pop up. I feel he does have some abandonment issues, also peter pan syndrome of struggling to grow up, be an adult, and take responsibility for things. He may struggle to own up to his mistakes.

Abandonment issues will pop up. He will cling to his partner and there will be a struggle to be alone, so time apart can be difficult. He may guilt his partner to stay with him and not leave, may even guilt trip them. I wonder if this stems from his relationship with Mom. He was shipped off very young, I believe 15, so there seems to be abandonment issues there and that will bleed onto his partners and this strong desire and need to belong.

He does seem to have this arrogance to him. This need to be right, a strong competitive spirit. So, it will be hard for his partner to get a say in at times. He may struggle to listen to his partner if there is a disagreement. He also acts impulsively, so he may do dumb stuff in the moment, not sure what that looks like, but that could end up messing up the relationship.

Also, he seems to be way too logical and strategic at times. He may not pay too much attention to the emotional aspect of things or how things can emotionally affect his partner. He may see things as too black and white without the regards of the perspective of his partner. It is like to him it all makes sense, it is logical, but he disregards his partners feeling and thoughts on things. It is like he is way too rational and would struggle to understand why his partner is upset.

Sexual energy as a boyfriend:

Okay, he is an enthusiastic, adventurous, carefree, spontaneous and experimental lover. He enjoys exploring new things and having fun when it comes to sex. I see him being a generous lover but also being honest about what he wants and what he doesn't like. I don't see him having many boundaries and he enjoys taking risk.

I do see there is trauma when it comes to sex, and that is something he will need to heal, and he may do that in the process of sex with his partner. There are lots of wounds and pain there. But this can be a healing journey with the person he loves and who can tend to his wounds and be kind and patient with him.

This man does have a strong desire and a strong sex drive. He needs to be careful with this Mars energy, it is very primal and aggressive, so that aggressive and competitive energy can be released through the passion of sex, or in the moment. There is this impulse to have sex with his person. He will be pretty needy when it comes to sex and may desire it a lot. And I am seeing this desire to overpower his partner and dominate them.

He does seem like someone who is very experienced when it comes to sex and seems to obtain a lot of knowledge, so you are in for a ride with him. I say he is someone who knows what he is doing. He knows exactly what to do for both parties to achieve their peak. He does tend to cling to the past, this may be his past trauma, or past lovers, and whatever happened their bleeds into his sex life in the present as well.

Final messages/improvements:

Okay, so the High Priestess flew out so quick, so that is an important message for him. I was kind of confused what that meant at first, but I think they want him to do some inner work, before developing a relationship. To get the answers he needs to look from within, but to also be patient and to not rush things and try to quickly find the one.

That this process takes time, but overall, he needs to go within and find happiness within himself instead of seeking a partner to fulfill his needs. It is like he may feel finding a partner will just answer all his concerns and questions and it won't, going within does that. He may need some time for himself to figure that out, but not sure he will give himself that time.

I think there could be someone in his life that could be a good fit for him. He would need someone just as passionate as him and creative, someone charming, magnetic and who emits warmth, strength and inspiration. I wonder if this person lives in a different country, hmm. They may be a performer too. It is like he would work well with another creative person, a person of passion, someone pretty similar to him, but also has their differences so they can learn from each other. They both can help each other and create something beautiful together. Also, they both need to have a strong pull and attraction towards another.

I wanted to close this out, but I was pulled towards another deck. He should play around with ideas, have fun with things, maybe date around more, and not just cling to one person, which seems contradicting, because isn't there a specific someone that I mentioned above, or they are showing characteristics he should look for that could fit what would work best for him, that could be it, so there may not be a specific person at the moment. I am being shown those are the traits he should look for.

They also want him to live out his fantasy or what he envisions, so if there is something he wants out of love and relationships to stop living in a fantasy and start making it a reality. It is like you create your reality, so he needs to do that. It is like the person he may want to seek and may feel it is right for him. He doesn't go after them, as he may feel he isn't good enough or it won't work out, but they are saying for him to go for it.

Hmm, this was as interesting as I thought. I will close it here. This was fun. Hope you enjoyed this, and I do hope he finds love and healing.

[candycryptids]

Eorzea Eats! Food themed questions !

🧋(Boba Tea) It's summer! Whats your OC's favorite COLD treat (or drink!) to beat the heat?

🍵 (Green Tea) It's winter! What's your OC's favorite WARM treat (or drink!) to shake off the chill?

🍞 (Bread) Opinion on Archon Loaf?

🍳 (Fried Egg) Can your OC cook, and do they like to cook for others if they do?

🥡 (Takeout Box) Does your Oc have a go-to 'easy meal' for when the days just been crap and there's no energy to cook something hard? (Or do they get take-out?)

🍿 (Popcorn) Your Oc is traveling! What are they packing to snack on on the way?

🥩 (Steak) What's the best meal to make to win your OC over (I.e. what's their favorite dish?)

🥂 (Wine Toast) Is your OC someone who prefers the same foods they know they like, or are they someone who wants to try everything at least once?

🥄 (Spoon) your Oc's Favorite kind of Cuisine ?

🍅 (Tomato) What’s a food your OC just can’t get into liking? They don’t hate it they’re just really blah about it

🥫 (Soup) Your OC is feeling under the weather (sick, allergies, just hurt, whatever) what's their feel-better meal?

🥒 (Cucumber) Is your oc the pickle Haver or the pickle giver. Who is their counterpart(if they have one)

🧈 (Butter) If your oc had to pick one thing to eat for the rest of their life what would it be? (Or alternatively what’s your ocs last meal??)

🍰 (Cake) there's only one slice/piece of (your Oc's favorite desert) but someone else wants it ! FIGHT? SHARE? RETREAT?

🍱 (Bento) How big is your ocs stomach?(Can they put away a lot of food? Do they have an extra stomach for dessert- or something else?)

🥔 (Potato) What's your OC's Carb of choice? (Like- Noodle, Rice, Bread, Potato, Tortilla/Flatbread?)

🍙 (Riceball) Does your OC have a favorite Seasonal or Regional food?

🫑 (Bell Pepper) Is there a food that your OC just doesn't like that everyone else seems to really love?

🧀 (Cheese) Does your OC have any allergies, intolerances, or eating lifestyle (like being Lactose Intolerant, Vegetarian, Vegan, Etc?) is it restrictive or voluntary? If they have an intolerance, do they try to avoid the foods, or do they suffer the consequences for what they want to eat anyways?

🍬 (Candy) Does your OC prefer Sweet, Spicy, or Savory foods?

🦴 (Bone) Are there any 'weird' foods your OC either likes, or wants to try? (Like, say, Namazu fillet or Moogle Pom Sauté)

[batsplat]

thought of a prompt that might be fun for you:) assign any motogp riders of your choice (or maybe even entire rivalries if you want) a classical piece of music

ahaha anon not only would this be fun for me - this is something I have put enough thought into that I already have notes for several of these and like... an entire quite long spotify playlist for classical music that reminds me of casey specifically. I'm going to go for quality over quantity here and give you one pick each for three rivalries. none of these picks are... the height of originality and I'm sure they might feel a bit hackneyed to the connoisseur lol. but well, sometimes pieces are popular for a reason

first off, the sete/valentino rivalry. this pick also works for valentino's arc in general 2003-04, but it fits particularly well to this rivalry

berlioz! the unorthodox rebel, the ambitious and controversial revolutionary. a delightful curiosity to his experimentation, an eccentricity and willingness to push the bounds of what was acceptable in his music - as well as a certain enjoyment of the macabre

berlioz as a composer gives me valentino vibes in general and I could have gone for another work here ('damnation of faust' has obvious relevancy to the sete/valentino situation) - but here I've opted for one of berlioz's most well-known works. his symphonie fantastique. the video above should start at the fifth and last movement, 'dream of a witches' sabbath', which is the most weird and fun and works so well for the sete/vale rivalry. however, I'd definitely encourage you to listen to the whole thing - if nothing else, to hear the innocent version of the melody that eventually is so perverted

the symphonie fantastique is a piece of program music, which means it uses solely instrumental music to tell the listener a story. in this case, it's a (loosely autobiographical) story of a bloke who falls desperately in love with a woman and does some opium before eventually ending up at a witches' orgy, where the woman he's in love with is having a lovely time. here's a slightly better summary:

the movements are tied together by an idée fixe - this recurring musical motif used as a way of representing the woman the artist is in love with, the object of obsession... a melody he hears everywhere he goes. the first movement starts so gently, with so much promise - daydreams, passions as the artist first lays eyes on his love. which is how, after a long slow build-up, the idée fixe is introduced: sweet and brightly romantic. light and breezy - but also with a real passion injected in its wake. it livens up the music with its presence. the next movement, a waltz, followed by a third gentle pastoral movement. and then, the dream is transformed into a nightmare with the fourth movement's 'march to the scaffold' as the artist poisons himself and suffers from hallucinations. has he killed his lover? perhaps by being responsible for her receiving a back-of-the-grid penalty? or was it all just an illusion? and then, finally, comes the infamous witches' sabbath. here is berlioz's description of the fifth movement:

in a way, it's almost cheating using a piece of music that directly tells a story. but, well, how can you resist! the story of sete and valentino is the story of a friendship twisted by rivalry, of an innocent camaraderie turned sour - until from one day to the next, sete turned around to look at someone he was so insistent was a 'good man' and could no longer see his friend at all. perhaps a monster. perhaps a witch

the whole thing is fittingly gothic for sete/vale. who doesn't love a good witch's curse, right. again, I would recommend the whole thing - in particular the fourth movement where the artist is marched to his grave - but for now we're focusing on the fifth movement. by this point, the 'beloved melody' of the previous movements (the idée fixe) has been twisted, perverted. no longer is it 'noble' or 'shy'... it enters the movement as a silly, jaunty tune that almost immediately manages to summon the entire orchestral hordes of hell upon the listener's head. silly, yes, but capable of remarkable feats of malice - as it cheerily ushers in the funeral bells. valentino's journey from 2003 to 2004 is a form of self-actualisation, leaving honda to strike his own path and control his destiny. to sete, by the end he has been transformed - gone is the cheerful friend, now sete has to deal with the monster. valentino had already shown prior to 2004 that he was capable of both joy and cruelty, but here he marries the two: he uses his silly little celebrations to directly mock and humiliate sete. the face of the artist's lover might remain the same, but now she joins the diabolical orgy to roars of delight. maybe she even leads it

listen to the music, to its whimsy - the imitation of laughter, the 'strange sounds', disjointed, until the idée fixe comes through. in all its energy, that jaunty jig... you can hear something a little mocking in that, how it cannot even take its macabre surroundings seriously. cheerily chaotic, wild in its unrestrained swing. brimming with malice. the ominous chime of the funeral bells... and yet you never quite lose the frenetic, silly energy that keeps the piece moving. the curse strikes, sete's career dies a painful death and the music keeps flowing. the crescendo to reach the depths of hell is both violent and triumphant... depending on whether you are the artist or the witch. there is a pleasing surrealism to this musical landscape that suits the sete/vale rivalry. like that rivalry, it starts in what feels like a normal place but becomes far more bizarre, more cruel - strange and sudden enough it really must have felt to sete like he had suddenly been trapped in a nightmare. he thought he had known the rules of engagement. he had been wrong

berlioz was hardly a universally beloved composer - with one contemporary describing his music as 'the work of a tipsy chimpanzee'. some other remarks:

isn't there something compelling about that willingness to dispense with self-seriousness? berlioz might have been clownish but at least he was doing something interesting. this is a pick that suits valentino because berlioz suits valentino. there is a power to whimsy that berlioz embraced - and sometimes, genius is more important than talent. berlioz's idée fixe becomes no less beautiful for the corruption it undergoes over the course of the symphonie fantastique. and what's so wrong about witches' orgies anyway?

moving on to valentino/casey. I do feel like this is a. very basic pick. but I'm SORRY I do associate it with them, sue me

you can't go wrong with beethoven, can you. and for these two... a proper duet is only right. so we're going for beethoven's ninth violin sonata, the famous kreutzer sonata. specifically the first movement, and if you only listen to one movement then make it that one - but as above, of course I'd recommend listening to the whole work

said first movement starts out gently enough, two voices testing each other out before they lock horns. soon enough the music develops into a ferocious competition between the violin and the piano, both vying for supremacy. you may note that this piece is called a violin sonata and you'd really expect the piano to have more of an accompanying role - but instead the two parts are unusually well-balanced, both giving as good as they get. fitting! whichever way round you want to play it... perhaps it's all about casey refusing to accept his role as a background character in motogp, as anything other than the protagonist. announcing his arrival to the top of the sport in fiercely determined fashion at the start of 2007 and refusing to budge since then. or perhaps it's about valentino not accepting the role of second fiddle to his hungry young challenger - he will not countenance being replaced just yet. this is a rivalry about defiance. this piece is plenty defiant

the kreutzer sonata also happens to have a troubled composition history, which adds rather nicely to how well this piece fits the pair of them on a meta-level. here's a piece on the topic that details how beethoven initially composed the piece for a lovely new violinist friend who he then fell out with --

-- except kreutzer, the guy beethoven then dedicated the sonata to, fucking HATED the piece and never played it (hey, look, there's berlioz again) --

-- and I'm sorry. I'm not assigning anyone specific characters here, but this story just has a vale/casey vibe somehow. the pettiness of it all... there's something of casey in beethoven's temper - a heartfelt dedication removed after a quarrel, a championship shirt that bears valentino's name before casey furiously disavows him. but you can also find hints of casey in kreutzer's unimpressed dismissal... a man who saw one of beethoven's most beloved works as amateurish and didn't deign to play it himself. except now he's stuck forevermore with his name associated with that piece - something poetic about that, isn't there? we've got some proper characters here

another thing that works on a meta level: the first movement really is the best. I like the other movements just fine - but (as the piece I linked to details) the three movements feel disconnected, with beethoven semi-plagiarising himself for the third and using a half-finished sketch for the second because he was rushing for a deadline. the casey/vale rivalry peters out pretty sharpish after 2008 for various reasons - which gives you that slightly frustrated feel that the narrative arc which reached its climax at laguna 2008 was never quite completed. there's still a loping grace to the latter two movements... the gentle, near playful ribbing of the second - not absent of tension - that meanders delicately to a conclusion... the manic energy of the third, neither party willing to relent as they continue to trade blows - vivacious in its chaos. just like the abysmal bickering of vale/casey's 2010-12 dynamic, it lacks the narrative genius of the first act... but it's not without its merits. at the very least, it's plenty of fun

one more bit of the work's history worth bringing up - the tolstoy short story about a guy who kills his wife because of how she performed the kreutzer sonata with another man

so, as you see, it's so powerful a piece you could kill someone over it. that's how closely the work connects the two duellists - it's a passion and an intimacy formed in close combat. a unique bond between the two performers... if they are perfectly matched, there's nothing quite like the magic they can produce

and it's that daring, suspenseful beauty to the first movement that so evokes this specific rivalry. two voices testing each other every step of the way - the broiling tension of the first few exchanges preceding the explosion of bright noise and colour. when the music builds into a furious contest, think about laguna in valentino's determination and casey's rage and their mutual refusal to yield to the other. this is stubborn music. neither party can ever back down. and the thing about violins, they sure can yearn. for all its antagonism, perhaps the voice of the violin is longing for something unattainable... something impossible. casey never entirely got over his early hero worship of valentino - he might have hated valentino, but he never could quite stop himself from liking him. even as the violin challenges the piano - the pluck of the strings in feisty counterpoint to the voice that should have been its accompaniment - it would be impossible to conceal the emotional depths of the violin's cry. it's a duet that mixes aggression and melancholy and hope... it wouldn't be anywhere close to as compelling if it were just one thing

this duet needs true equals who manage to both compete and compliment each other. both parts play fully realised melodies beautiful in isolation that together still manage to be more than the sum of their parts - because sometimes, rivalry makes both sides better. sometimes it is only by hearing both voices that their brilliance can be truly appreciated. sometimes both sides push each other to new heights because that's the only way they can keep up with each other. the kreutzer is defiant - but it is also endlessly demanding. and it will not allow either side to let up

last but not least, a piece for the marc/valentino rivalry

here, we go to sibelius and his violin concerto in d minor - the only concerto he ever composed, one of a kind and thus impossible to take for granted. again, my recommendation for the purposes of this post is the first movement - and again I'd encourage you to listen to the complete piece. hey, did you know that sibelius had to give up on his dreams to be a violinist in his twenties due to a shoulder injury? perhaps that explains why he wanted to compose a piece for a true virtuoso... a piece that throws the hardest stuff you can possibly demand at the violinist and then some. it requires a dazzling technical mastery of the violinist - one voice that stands out clearly against the full might of the orchestra

this is another work with a troubled history. its composition followed a difficult period for sibelius (who suffered from depression and alcoholism for much of his life) - he composed this concerto once he'd picked himself up from rock bottom

the concerto was originally dedicated to violinist burmester who was supposed to play it for the premiere in berlin... but in the end, the premier was in helsinki - making use of a violin teacher instead who supposedly played the piece poorly, and the first performance was not a success. sibelius heavily revised the piece. when the berlin premiere eventually happened, burmester apparently got offended by them using someone else (from andrew barnett's book about sibelius):

in danger of over-exposure, eh

speaking of that young hungarian violinist: he wasn't just 'young' he was really young. a proper child prodigy

so then, a piece sibelius was himself not able to perform, with the leading role granted to a child prodigy. you see where I'm going with this... perhaps there's something appropriate to marc following the notes that valentino had already penned, right. the marc/valentino rivalry is inevitably heavily preoccupied with the frailties of ageing, with the existential agony caused by loss of youth, yearning after what was once possible and will never be again. it is a rivalry of sliding doors - an age gap that should have been to immense to allow for competition at all, its very existence was improbable. the sliding doors just about made it possible for them to fight but also made that fight limited... it was too late for valentino to compete fully against marc. but sibelius never lost his love for the violin and found new ways of expressing that love - and valentino, too, can never walk away entirely from motogp

the first movement starts off with an achingly romantic violin melody. it has such heart and such vigour, it captures the attention, it is alone at the top - but eventually the second melody sets in, darker, brooding, as the tension builds. the music is caught between the soaring heights of what could be and the creeping horror of what will come to pass. the orchestra heralds the storm clouds as they begin to encroach upon the scene... eventually, the movement reaches its climax as the violin cries out, by itself, in the cadenza. even as the violinist recaptures the initial romantic melody in the midst of a frenzied display of technical mastery and excess, the melancholy of the movement's ending feels inevitable

the marc/vale rivalry is narratively structured like a tragedy - one that feels both inevitable on a grand scale but deeply avoidable in its specifics. a conflict that both felt like it had to happen but didn't need to happen like that. this music is uncompromising as it reaches that very same conclusion... it never loses its heart even as it descends into fury. the second movement that follows it is slower, sad and poignant, the aftermath of the sorrow - while the third is warmer, more energetic, a flurry of the violinist to show off every virtuoso skill imaginable in service of some chance at emotional release. blindingly brilliant

one thing about sibelius - he's very effective at establishing a mood. at setting the tone. he's got the drama, he's got the terseness, he knows how to stress you out and make you sit with that tension. and really, that's what the marc/valentino rivalry is all about... something that lingers. an open wound. the genius of the composer and the virtuosity of the violinist come together to provide a way of expressing that lasting pain. the result is uncompromising from start to finish

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Witch

| "And I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out. I'm miles away, he's on my mind, I'm getting tired of crawling all the way. And I've had enough, it's obvious, and I'm getting tired of crawling all the way." |

He finds his way to the cabin under the cover of the moonlight, a heavy feeling weighs on his chest. On one note, Coriolanus is almost honored to be trusted with a mission as important as this one. But on another, it all feels so wrong, Soarynn hasn't done anything, hurt anyone. From what she's told him, she's lonely yes, but she'd never hurt a fly.

Perhaps Hoff is blowing things out of proportion.

He finds Petunia sitting on the top step, her tail swishes back and forth when she sees him. They have somewhat of a mutual understanding now, she doesn't bite him, he doesn't kick her.

It's a symbiotic relationship.

Petunia meows when he pets her head, staying perched on the step. Soarynn says she keeps watch at night, since cats have better vision than humans do in the dark.

He quietly knocks on the door, hoping, praying that Soarynn isn't home tonight. To his chagrin, she opens the door, dressed in a nightgown, with her hair braided down her back. "Oh," she says, looking surprised to see him so late at night, "thought you were comin' around on Sunday."

Coriolanus shoves his hands in his pockets, "Just wanted to see you."

For someone who values honesty, it scares him how easily he can lie to her.

Soarynn smiles, soft and sweet. She's gotten to be much nicer to him, more trusting and open. "Well, come in, it's gettin' colder every night." She's right, the hot months of summer are well behind them, bringing a brisk air with October. He shuffles into the small house, closing the door behind him. If Petunia wants to come inside, she'll make it known by scratching at the door and yowling at the top of her lungs until someone opens it for her.

"I just put some tea on if you want any."

Coriolanus eyes the teapot, he's not really here for tea. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd read my palm again, I, I'm interested to see if there's anything else it might tell you."

Soarynn seems surprised at his statement. A few months ago he nearly ran out of here when she read his palm, but so much has changed since then.

They’ve changed since then.

“Sure, have a seat.”

Coriolanus sits in the wooden chair, resting the back of his larger hand against the table. If Soarynn can really read people’s palms, he wonders what else she can do. Can she read his thoughts? Can she tell the future?

Whatever she can do, it seems to make people like Commander Hoff very nervous, so nervous that he wants to see her hanging from the gallows.

Soarynn sits across from him, brushing her long blonde hair behind her ears as she leans forward, “You want me to read the same one?”

“Is there a difference?” He asks, thinking that surely it won’t matter which palm she reads. Soarynn nods, tracing a finger down the well-worn lines in his palm, “Each one tells me a different story.”

Well, what does he have to lose?

He places his other hand on the table, doing his best to keep it from shaking from his nerves. From his guilt. Soarynn says nothing about the shaking though, if she even notices it.

She studies his palm, the grooves it has from grabbing and holding things after almost nineteen years. She presses her finger against the longest one, "This means you'll have a long marriage, it'll last long is what I mean, won't have to worry about splittin' up."

Well that's a relief he supposes. Divorce is highly frowned upon in the Capitol and if Coriolanus wants to become President-which he does-he can't afford to stain his reputation with a nasty divorce. This is certainly good news. He already prefers this hand over the other one.

Soarynn continues reading his palm, "This one shows that you'll meet someone soon, a girl," she mumbles and he notices a slight blush on her cheeks. Does she think it's about her? He does his best to ease the tension growing between them, "How lucky she'll be then," he jokes, cracking a smile. Soarynn hums without returning the smile.

"This one says that you'll also break a heart."

Oh.

Breaking a heart can mean a lot of things though, like a friendship, not necessarily a romantic relationship. That's what he wants to think. Soarynn lets go of his hand, "That's all I can see."

Is it? Or is it all she wants to see?

Either way, he came here on a mission, on an assignment and he intends to see it through, even if it's horrible. "Have you ever been in love?" He asks, leaning back in the chair. Soarynn raises her eyebrows, they talk about many things when they're together, but never love.

Too sensitive for either of them.

"Can't say I have," she replies with a shrug, "most boys don't want much to do with me."

If he's going to do this, then he ought to do it the proper way, charm her, make her feel good at least. Give her one last final moment before her bitter end. So he grins, "Really? Then they're missing out."

Soarynn looks mildly uncomfortable with where this conversation is going. "I'm not really lookin' either," she adds, "for someone." That actually interests him, Coriolanus has always known that he'd need to find a suitable partner, but perhaps they don't have these goals in Twelve, or any of the Districts for that matter.

"If you had to create the perfect man, what would he be like?"

They're going into uncharted territory and just like when he was lost in the forest, Coriolanus has no map.

Soarynn shifts in her chair, pulling her knees to her chest and he involuntarily looks at her bare legs, smooth despite living in the woods. She must bathe and shave in the lake. That's good, there's nothing worse than an unkempt woman.

"Um, haven't really thought about it before if I'm bein' honest. Probably just someone who loves me for who I am, and someone who likes bein' outside."

So not him.

That's fine, perfectly fine in fact.

This way, he won't get more attached to her. "I'm sure you'll meet him one day," he tells her, ignoring the way she looks longingly at him from across the table. If she wants him to love her, she's shit out of luck. Coriolanus already knows he can't love, isn't capable of it, doesn't really want to do it either.

Love makes him weak.

He feels weak already when he's around her. She's so disarming, so pretty and kind. He's going to hell for what he's about to do to her.

"I forgot to tell you, I'm leaving in a couple of days."

Soarynn looks genuinely hurt by his lie, she needn't know that he's lying, it'll make this so much easier. "Where're you goin' then? Two?" Coriolanus grins, shaking his head, "Back home. That's really why I came to see you, to say goodbye."

Soarynn's entire body deflates, poor thing is going to be all alone again, or well, she thinks she's going to be all alone again.

And what will they do to spend their last night together?

"Oh, well, well I'm gonna miss seein' you out here then. It's been real nice havin' a friendly face come and visit me. I just wish I could give you somethin' as a gift."

His eyes travel along her collar bones, her bare shoulders with a thin night gown strap across them. "I can think of one thing," he says, leaning forward, "one thing you could give me Soarynn."

Soarynn sits up straighter, his intentions are clear.

It's her move now.

꧁ ꧂

Three hours later and Coriolanus is getting dressed again.

He can feel her watching him, those stormy blue eyes have always enchanted him, and he hopes that this will be his last memory of her. Sweet and innocent, and now, wholly his.

He didn't expect for her to be a virgin, figured a girl like her had probably slept with half the town for a few grimy coins but no, Soarynn was a sweet little secret. She gave in rather easily, desperate for some last bits of human companionship before he took off for home.

To his credit, he was gentle, patient, some might even say he was loving.

Her eyes were so wide when he slid into her cunt, so mesmerized by him, by his body, his confidence, his experience. Him. He guided her through the steps of losing one's virginity. He tasted her, wined and dined her like she was his last meal.

She basically was.

Despite the urge to fuck her like no tomorrow, he held back, taking things nice and slow, romantic even.

They kissed.

"When does your train leave?"

"Sunday," he lies, slipping his shirt back on, "that's why I came to see you tonight."

"Wish I could come and see you at the station," she says, and he turns, looking at the vision she is when she's naked in bed. While she is underfed, her body is just to his liking, soft and smooth, her breasts fit perfectly into his hands. It's a shame he only got to taste her once.

"It's probably for the best," he tells her, tucking his gun back into his waistband, "but thank you, for everything. I hope it all works out for you in the end."

Soarynn smiles up at him, so sweet and trusting, "I hope it all works out for you too. Maybe you could come and visit me and Petunia someday when you're rich."

Oh, Petunia. He hadn't even thought about the cat. What will she do when Soarynn is gone?

Coriolanus clears his throat, desperate to get out of here before his guilty thoughts consume him. "Yeah, well, I'll have to see. I better get going though."

Soarynn sits up in her bed, pulling the covers up to her chest, "Guess this is goodbye then," she says softly. Coriolanus nods, scratching the back of his neck, feeling the cold chain of his dogtags against his skin, "Here, for you to remember me by." He pulls the chain over his neck, holding it out to her.

Soarynn's fingers wrap around the silver chain, silver is a hard thing to find out here. "Thank you. Here, take this." She slides off one of her rings, she always wears rings, some shiny, some dull. This one though is special because she told him about it.

One of her mother's rings.

"I can't," he shakes his head, "it's your mother's."

"Take it," she insists, "you gave me the lighter that used to be your father's. It's the least I could give you."

She already gave him her virginity.

He takes the ring, sliding it onto his pinky, "Thanks."

Coriolanus leans down, pressing one more chaste kiss to her lips which she eagerly returns. He's been with a few girls, but never a girl like her.

Not every man can say that he slept with a witch.

꧁ ꧂

Three days later, a proper witch hunt takes place at night.

Coriolanus watched men load into trucks, with dogs on leashes and guns holstered to their hips.

He hoped Petunia would be able to get away at least.

He sits outside of his barrack, doing about anything to keep himself distracted while he thinks about Soarynn, if she got away, if they found her, if she knows what he's done to her.

Hoff had him make a map of where her cabin was, what it looked like on the inside. He told them everything.

All for a one-way ticket home.

"You've earned it son," Hoff had told him, patting his back, "get back home and forget this ever happened." He leaves at the end of the week.

Right now, he's picking at his nails, cut down for hygienic purposes, and he remembers how tightly she squeezed his hand while they had sex. How soft her hands were, how she giggled when they were done, and he wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the company of another human being for just a moment.

All he had reported back to Hoff was that she wasn't a virgin, and wasn't pregnant, the man didn't need to know anything else.

Suddenly, it's like he can hear every dog barking. Birds fly overhead and he swears they're barking too, or repeating, mimicking. Then, he hears it, a gunshot.

They found her.

꧁ ꧂

Desperate for a distraction, Coriolanus busies himself stacking empty crates by the mess hall, anything to keep his mind off of her. Dinner will be ready soon, the sun is setting and instead of coming back from another trip to the lake, he's here, wallowing in his shame.

The sound of trucks pulling up to the base is more than enough to make Coriolanus feel sick to his stomach. They're back.

He watches the trucks drive through the base one by one, loaded with dogs and Peacekeepers. He approaches the last one when he sees who's sitting in the front of the truck, Commander Hoff.

The Commander notices him instantly, grinning like a bobcat as he steps out of the truck, "Well son, we found her, put up one hell of a fight but we got her." There's a struggle from the back of the truck, a shout, a groan, and then, Soarynn falls out onto the ground. Coriolanus winces at the sound. Two Peacekeepers are on top of her in seconds, grabbing her by her bound arms and lifting her up as if she weighs nothing.

Hoff chuckles, shaking his head at the sight, "She's a wild one, don't know how you put up with her private."

Coriolanus swallows, everything Soarynn has ever known will soon be gone.

The Peacekeepers start to drag her away and she looks over her shoulder, her face is covered in dirt and blood, her hair tangled, her dress torn.

Their eyes meet across the courtyard and he feels shame flooding through his veins.

Her eyes reflect betrayal the same way the lake reflected lightning the night they met in that storm.

When she led the way for him, kept him dry, kept him safe.

Why couldn’t he do the same for her?

"She, uh, she had a cat," he says, his voice distant while watching them lead her away to the cells they keep the detained townspersons in. Mostly for being drunk in public. Now, it's for witches.

"Did you find the cat?"

"The white one? Yeah, we shot her."

Oh, Petunia.

Coriolanus can picture it now, Petunia trying to defend Soarynn in the chaos. The dogs barking, the men surrounding her cabin while Soarynn hunkers down in a corner, terrified out of her mind. Petunia would be on the top step, hissing and swiping at anyone in reach and then, the gun would go off.

It's like he was there to witness it, her small, white body limp on the steps. He can only imagine what Soarynn thought when she saw her feline companion, her loyal friend, dead on the steps to her house.

All because of him.

Now Petunia will rot away, eaten by animals who need a meal. Not buried, no, mourned yes, but not buried the way she should be.

"We'll hang her tomorrow, so rest up," Hoff encourages, "you did a great job helping us Snow, you should be very proud."

Instead of feeling proud, Coriolanus feels like the worst person in the world.

꧁ ꧂

Against his better judgment, Coriolanus goes to visit Soarynn in the cells. Barely any light seeps into the underground room, all concrete, no lake or sunshine, or birds and soft grass.

"Hasn't said a word since she got here," the guard tells him, waving his hand dismissively, "she knows her run is over."

Coriolanus wants to ask this man what "run" he is referring to. Was reading palms and sitting by the lake so bad? Did she really hurt anyone or was she just misunderstood?

He approaches her cell slowly, wrapping his hand around one of the iron bars once he sees her, curled up in the corner. He notices how her hands are still bound, and how there's a thick, metal shackle around her ankle.

She will not escape this.

When she looks up, her gaze is murderous.

"You lied to me," she whispers, her voice hoarse, probably from screaming and crying, "you betrayed me, and you lied to me, and you touched me and now, and now I'll never go home again, and Petunia," her voice breaks off when she mentions her beloved cat.

Coriolanus watches her sob, wishing so badly he could make this right, that he could go back in time and at least warn her. He could've done that, told her about Hoff's plan, left a note, helped her pack. She could've been far north by now, safe and sound.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, truly, he is.

"Go away," she croaks, "I'll be dead by the morning so just go away, no use to you now."

He sighs, it needn't be this way, not when she's about to die. "Soarynn," he starts, crouching down, "don't let it end like this, we still have time. We can talk things ou-"

"GO AWAY!" She screams, scaring him so bad that he falls back onto the ground, "GO AWAY AND NEVER COME BACK! YOU'RE CURSED! I CURSE YOU AND EVERYONE YOU KNOW. I CURSE YOUR WIFE, YOUR SONS, YOUR DAUGHTERS, EVERYONE! GO AWAY!"

For once, he is at a loss for words.

Her anger doesn't last long, it seems that screaming took the last bit of energy out of her, because Soarynn slouches back into her corner, soft sniffles can be heard, but his words will only hurt her further.

So Coriolanus leaves, cursed and cruel.

꧁ ꧂

"Citizens of Twelve, we are gathered here today to witness the hanging of the witch! A shunned woman who has caused havoc and dismay on Twelve for far too long!"

Coriolanus scans the crowd that has gathered to see Soarynn die. None of them cheer, all faces are solemn. Maybe she wasn't the witch they made her out to be.

"Let this be a message that the Capitol will not be challenged, living outside of our borders is unnatural and will result in execution. We have no tolerance for rebels," Hoff finishes in a snobbish tone.

Coriolanus turns when the rest of his fellow Peacekeepers do, all must bear witness to the witch dying. Soarynn keeps her composure calm, her face natural as she looks out into the crowd of people who knew her or knew of her all her life. She doesn't resist when another Commander guides her towards the noose or slips it over her neck.

In her last moments, she lets out a four note whistle, the same one she'd use to call Petunia back home. The birds in the forest must like this tune because they begin to repeat it in a melodic fashion, chirping it over and over again.

"Kill the witch!" Hoff commands.

Soarynn closes her eyes and it's done in a second, the floor gives out from underneath her, and he watches her neck snap like the stem of a daisy. He gasps, just like that, Soarynn is gone.

Mumurs can be heard through the crowd when her body is collected, they'll burn it next under Hoff's orders so she can't come back.

Coriolanus doesn't stick around for that part.

Instead, he ventures into the woods, desperate for a safe space to gather his thoughts. His feet carry him to the cabin without him even realizing it. It's a shocking sight. Every window broken, the steps in disrepair, the front door hanging off the hinges.

Coriolanus slowly climbs the steps and chokes back a sob when he sees her.

Petunia.

Her small little body lying in the doorway. He can see where she was shot, that fur stained red. Coriolanus sinks to his knees, gently picking up her lifeless frame, "I'm sorry," he whispers, choking back a sob, "I'm sorry I didn't protect you."

He failed to protect both of them, he could have but he didn't.

He looks into the cabin and finds the inside worse than the outside. Bedsheets thrown on the floor, glass frames shattered, the table knocked over. It's a mess.

Coriolanus manages to find one of the scarves Soarynn liked to wrap around her shoulders, a pretty orange thing, it will do nicely. He takes one last look at the cabin he might have considered home for a brief period of time before leaving.

He goes a little ways into the woods before stopping in a small clearing. He gently sets Petunia's body down and begins digging, it takes quite a while with his bare hands, but the ground is soft and his hands are already dirty, covered in blood literally and metaphorically.

Once the grave is deep enough, he carefully wraps Petunia in the scarf, so they can be together even in death.

"I hope you found each other again," he whispers, lowering her body into the ground. Burying her is much easier than digging was. He finds a few wild flowers and leaves them on top of her grave as well, it's what Soarynn would have wanted.

He doesn't stay much longer, he'll be leaving soon and he's not welcomed here anymore. He wonders if he ever was.

꧁ ꧂

"Good luck in the big city, Private."

Coriolanus gives Hoff a curt nod, today is the day, he's going back home. "Thank you sir, for everything."

"No, thank you, we couldn't have caught that witch if it weren't for you."

Coriolanus just nods again.

"Oh, we found this in her pockets before the hanging, figured the little brat stole it from you." In Commander Hoff's hand are his father's silver lighter and his dogtags.

Coriolanus pockets them, "Thank you, sir."

"Get home safe, Private."

Once on the train, Coriolanus feels a weight lifted off his chest, he can leave all of this behind, start a new life in the Capitol. The train pulls out of the station and he pulls out the lighter again, inspecting it for damage but finds none.

She took such good care of her things.

Now that cabin is empty. No more light or laughter, no more tea at night. No more Soarynn sleeping in her bed with Petunia curled up next to her. No more.

He stares at his palm again, "This one says that you'll also break a heart." Her voice is a painful echo in his mind, but she was right, he did break a heart.

His own.

Coriolanus scowls at his palm, at that silly little girl with her candles and her cat, living in those godforsaken woods. None if that was normal, none of it was natural. Now he's going back home to the Capitol, where there's order and the people are civil creatures.

He can't blame Soarynn for not knowing everything about him or the Capitol, all she's ever known is this sad life. But he knows one thing for certain.

Snow lands on top.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| Part 2. | Final Part |

| taglist: @lovelylove268 @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @erensrealgf @evilmenarehot @cervvsq @snowgirl12 @matcha-muses @anisangeldust @snowsgames |

[utilitycaster]

i just finished this week's episode and I'm so blown away by Celia's portrayal of faith in exandria and how deep her understanding is and firstly, god, it's just so beautiful to watch but, secondly, it is kind of creating this juxtaposition to me of this person who's been brought in for a mini series, given a lore primer, does seem to have watched SOME episodes, has such a grasp on worship and the role of the gods in exandria vs bells hells who had hundreds of episodes to learn about it

So I agree that Celia's performance has been an absolute highlight, and while I'm try to taper off some of the post-mortem C3 stuff I think a couple things were going on. Most crucially, as Divergence is a limited series with actors who aren't terribly familiar with Exandria, I am sure there was a lot more guidance with regards to character creation and series tone. I would not be surprised if Brennan and Matt wanted characters with a range of attitudes towards the Prime Deities, ranging from Nia and Garen being faithful despite it all, to Crokas and Fiedra's neutrality/apathy, to Erro's loss of faith, and who could show how all of these people, despite those different attitudes, could work together if they prioritized community and hope.

The thing about Bells Hells is again, the cast is aware of the role of the gods in the world, as we've seen in past campaigns. I think again this was a lack of guidance and people building characters who were not prepared to engage with the question of "what would you do if the gods - all of them, not just the Prime Deities - were threatened" in a meaningful way, and Matt did not guide the campaign when they began aimlessly circling that question and indeed simply threw more options at them. They - and their fans - consistently believed the worst not just of the gods but of those who worshiped them and their fellow Exandrians (we've already extensively talked about the breathtaking selfishness of "I don't know if I want to save someone who doesn't love me," but consider how Ashton assumed the gods would smite them down for knowing the true story of Aeor [something Bells Hells chose to suppress for reasons I actually don't understand, like, I don't mind that they did this but it feels like they nearly got Liliana killed simply to go against Ludinus, which wasn't even their ultimate motivation in the end] and repeatedly treated the gods-as-mortals plan as a punishment to humble them, even though the Primes very much did not see it as such). It is, as I said sometime last week, an aberrant party attitude towards the world as compared to Campaigns 1, 2, EXU Prime, Downfall, every canon or semi-canon one-shot (eg: Song of the Lorelei) and, I would even posit, not even in line with the portrayal of the gods within C3's main story (not even Downfall) itself. So I don't want to diminish the excellent work Celia's put in, because they've been fantastic throughout, but I really think it's just...Bells Hells had a bunch of character concepts that probably should have been further refined early on, and far more guidance was given re: Rei'Nia's development, and it shows.

[royalsunshinehotel]

The Jackal (The Day of the Jackal, 2024) SFW Alphabet

SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I think he’s learning how to be affectionate. There’s a section of his mind that’s always looking for danger, any angles that might be hiding a monster that needs slaying. The affection is reserved, but real. He’ll be looking over his shoulder, and holding your hand the entire time. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I think he’d be an excellent best friend. It’s hard to be friends with someone so reserved, but once you break through, you’re going to be the last one standing in any firefight. He’ll make sure of it. (See: his spotter, who he didn’t blow up in the 2024 show) 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

I think he loves cuddling. He’ll be sitting on a squishy couch (your purchase) in your shared living room, and pull your legs into his lap. The two of you don’t say much, and just watch each other, and he eventually brings you closer because of it.  And typically, he goes to bed flat on his back, and winds up completely wrapped up in your limbs. That counts too. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I think he craves being settled down. In the show, if he didn’t have Nuria and Carlitos, there’s no reason to be grounded. I think he can clean with the best of him, but he can only cook 3 meals successfully - they all come out of a can. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I truly see this character as someone who mates for life, or tries to. This means he’s typically the one being broken up with. If he does have to break it off with a partner, he’ll have to do it face-to-face (never ghost). He’ll be logical, cold, and he’ll feel like he’s getting all of his teeth pulled. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I’m thinking that things with Nuria got out of hand. Typically, this is someone who’s practical first and foremost. Here comes Nuria, all fire and love, what’s he supposed to do?  I’m betting he folded for her within the year, getting married and starting their family ASAP. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

I feel in my bones that he'll surprise you. Everything about him is so hardened, and sharp, so he's going to overcompensate and swing in the other direction. You're going to be treated softly and carefully until you ask him not to.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He actually really enjoys a hug. He'll hug you once every day at least. There's always a split second after first contact where you feel him relax in your arms, it's lovely.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

The last person he said 'I love you' to and meant it, before Nuria, was his parents. The words carry a lot of weight, and he promises a lot with the words. He won't say them unless he can fulfill the promises he's made to you in his head.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I think he doesn't struggle with jealousy as much as he used to, most people who flirt with you, are people of no consequence to the life you guys share. He'll just put his face in your neck and get over it. It's minimal.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

In public, he's judicious with PDA. You're getting a peck on the lips, maybe on the cheek if he's feeling comfortable.

Privately, he's going after your throat, messily, anywhere he can feel your pulse. He's also a big fan of kissing in between your eyebrows. You scrunch them up and he adores it.

As for himself, he knows if you kiss his earlobe, he'll fold immediately. You go after his throat? He'll fold immediately. He's in pieces at your feet as we speak.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

I think he's comfortable around kids! He has one! There's nothing to worry about with children. If they need something, they'll tell you.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

I do feel like he's up at some ungodly military hour to do his fitness. You're probably up at around 7am? He's been up for hours and has breakfast going. He relaxes when he sees you stumbling out of the bedroom, and he sits down to eat with you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Getting ready for bed starts at 8:30pm, he'll brush his hair, teeth, wash his face and physically get into bed by 8:45pm. You go to the bedroom a bit later to do whatever it is you like to do before bed, and he watches you. He enjoys watching you.

When you get in to bed, you stay up reading in soft yellow light, and he stays up watching you. It's cozy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It's definitely not linear. You barely have a name. Yes, a name. You have no idea if it's even his. However, in the dead of night on a random April day, you'll get half of a story about his father teaching him how to go fishing when he was a [redacted] age in [redacted] location.

You learn about him by watching him, and how he interacts with the world. Details are secondary.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

I don't think it's easy to get him angry. You have to know what exact buttons to press, and when to press them, it's rare.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

It's his job to know. It's natural to him to know. He remembers everything.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

You bullied him into taking you to a movie, on your second date. When he was dropping you off at the door, you unlinked your arm with his and kissed the back of his hand. His hand tingled for two days after, and he'll never forget it.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

This doesn't even need to be said, but it's all for you. We see what he did for Nuria. The big house, the comfortable life, the careful, loving husband. He's protective. All the pieces are in their exact place, and we see that in the show. As for you, if the police are ever circling, he's 100% adamant that you sell him out. Give him up, save yourself. You won't, but it's worth a try.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

As said before, it's his job to know. And all of this stuff, for him, is so easy. It's easy to plan a good date when it's something to live for. It's easy to plan for an anniversary when it was the first day you felt like a real person. It's easy to buy a gift when you're always in his head. Jackal tries really hard on all fronts of his life.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I think the thing that makes you absolutely insane, is that when he's deeply stressed, he'll isolate. You understand the urge, but you have to stick your head out of your foxhole at some point. You want to reach out and support, or get a text back to a "u ok?" but instincts are strong. He's gonna dig himself pretty deep. You have to go into his part of the house.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

I think he's extremely concerned with his looks, just by nature of who he is. He's always aware of what he looks like, at any given moment. He's very fastidious, but never to the point where it's detrimental.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He'd rather chew his own arm off than lose you, we see this energy throughout episode 10 of season one.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I feel like he's a massive gearhead. His knowledge of guns started after an ill-fated summer working at a garage. Once he knew all there was to know about cars, he had to move on. Mechanically-minded people are gonna have their machines.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

If I'm being honest I do feel like, once he gets a taste of someone he cares for, there's not a whole lot a person can do to turn him off.

Z = Zzz (What are sleep habits?)

He doesn’t really sleep. Not deeply. Sure his eyes are closed, but he can’t give that much control away. There’s too much to think about, there’s too much to do. In the night, you shift, and lay on top of him, and the contact forces all the bad thoughts away.