#tbh i’m not as set in stone about these picks as i am the others

[ellie-s-list]

Light in the Darkness (5)

Abby Anderson X Fem!Reader, College AU, Part 5

Tbh this is my favorite chapter, basically the best thing I’ve ever written. Also this series is going to be 8 parts, and since I have it all written out now I will be posting at least once to twice a day (twice if there’s a short chapter).

Schedule:

Chapter 5, 4/22/23

Chapter 6, 4/23/23

Chapter 7, 4/24/23 tbd

Chapter 8, 4/24/23 tbd

There might be short blurbs to add on to round things out because I am not a perfect writer, and there’s hella holes.

TW: Anxiety, over thinking

Chapter 5–> Pinch Me, Young Friend, Week 13

Lyrics: “On my own, so alone

I can’t tell if this is real

Someone pinch me, wake up.”

After Abby puked on you, you pushed her away. You cleaned yourself up, changing into pajama shorts. Coming back into the living room, you saw Abby laying on the couch, facing the back cushions.You went and got an Ibuprofen and a glass of water, going back to the living room.

Abby turned to watch you as you set the painkiller and water onto the coffee table. “Hey,” She said your name as you sat down on the carpet, back against the couch. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You ask, not looking at her. A headache was developing behind your eyes, all of your thoughts fighting each other. It was hard not correlating the kiss with her puking on you. She puked because she was drunk. She kissed you because she was drunk. She never really liked you.

She must have been drunk every time she flirted with you. She had to be.

Before you could delve any further into your thoughts, Abby was talking again. “For puking on you.”

“It’s okay, go to sleep.”

Abby was silent, probably hoping you wouldn’t have been so dismissive. She made a noise, probably repositioning herself, “Okay.”

You awoke to someone calling your name. Your neck was stiff, your legs feeling like stone as you tried to open your eyes. A hand was on your shoulder, lightly shaking you.

You opened your eyes, turning and looking up to see Abby. She was peering down at you, sitting on the edge of the couch. You were huddled up against the couch, legs pressed to your chest..

“What happened?” Abby asked. Of course she wouldn’t know. Of course she wouldn’t remember her puking on you, her kissing you. You searched her face, somewhat hoping she was playing a trick on you. You were relieved that she was asking you what happened, but you couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of disappointment at her bout of amnesia.

“What do you remember?”

Abby rubbed her eyes, humming. Her hair was now fully out of its braid, falling into a curtain of waves around her face. “Everything until I went to the bathroom.”

Nodding, you briefly fill her in on what happened next. You left out the kiss, and the compliments. But after learning she puked on you she seemed to get quite embarrassed. Good.

Gesturing to the untouched medicine and water on the coffee table, you say, “Those are for you.”

“Thank you.”

Abby left about an hour later, not until after she promised to take you to coffee after classes on tuesday. She insisted it was both a “thanks” for taking care of her, and as a “sorry that I puked on you and ruined your pants.”

Abby took you to a quant cafe underneath a bookstore. The inside was full of green and brown patterns, giving an earthly feel to the shop. You two picked a small two person table. You tried to forget about the kiss, you really did, but it was always on your mind.

Abby, if she did end up remembering something, seemed too chill. If she didn’t, then she was acting normal. But she could feel how you’d get awkward at random things, if she’d get too close, you’d stiffen. Some words she would say you might make a face about. She would back off, not getting too close, watching you closely when she spoke. But now, after class, she seemed to have regained some confidence with you, now testing the waters.

“What were you thinking of getting?” Abby asked, following you to the register.

You shrugged, “I don’t know.” You played with your hands, biting your lip in thought.

A barista walked out from the back room, greeting the two of you. For a second you didn’t even recognize her, having to take another glance. But it wasn’t a dream, or just a weird trick of the light. Clare, an old friend,and your first ever girlfriend and ex girlfriend, was standing in front of you.

Clare changed after the two of you broke up. She used to have shoulder length, wavy dark brown hair. She used to wear clear rimmed glasses, and bright colors. She didn’t have any piercings, or tattooes. Clare was very much straight-passing, not showing too many hints at being on the same team you were. But now, her style clearly screamed, ‘I love women’. She was masc, her arms full of tattoos. Her hair was short, her ears having multiple piercings. Clare also now wore contacts, no makeup on her face. She had a nose piercing, a hoop on the left side.

Clare’s eyes squinted at you, she even said your name. “Is that really you?” What a dumb question, you didn’t even change that much. Maybe you were wearing a different style, one you were more comfortable in. You mainly changed after high school, but you were dating Clare out of high school, so she knew you after your transformation.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Says my social security card.”

Abby, seeming to feel the situation tensing, moved slightly closer to you. She was more polite, nodding to Clare, “I’m Abby. Are you one of her friends?”

She was dumb. How the hell did she not notice the glare you gave Clare, or how awkward Clare was? She should have noticed Clare flinch at her own question, looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

Clare blinked slowly at Abby, “She’s my ex.” She clarified, the brunette then turned to you, obviously just being polite since she was getting paid. “How’ve you been?”

You narrowed your eyes, but played along. “I’ve been. Anyways, can I get an iced caramel latte?”

Clare bit the inside of your cheek, probably hating your indifference. She’s always seen how quickly you cut people out of your life, how easily you went from having in-depth conversations to just one worded answers, never initiating anything when you didn’t like the person. She may have thought she would never be on the other side. But she was the one who ended the relationship, even after you chose the same college like she wanted. Clare watched as you faltered to save a failing relationship that she helped bring down, and you fell into a trap, disillusioning yourself into believing it was salvageable.

“Size?” Clare asked, her words now clipped.

Who was she to be mad? To be bothered by you? You let her leave after she stomped on your heart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of her empty promises. Maybe she was jealous, maybe she thought you were on a date with Abby. She had no right to be jealous, you didn’t care who she got with. Whoever had the blessing to be with Clare was also cursed with someone who hadn’t grown up one bit. But Abby could easily be coded as more masculine than any girl you’ve seen. She was muscular, wearing a muscle shirt as well. Abby had defined features, and she stood with an air of confidence that just screamed masculinity. The blonde even took a step towards you, slightly shielding you from Clare’s piercing eyes.

“What price is the medium?” You asked, tone steady. You weren’t going to let her mess with you, you couldn’t do it to yourself anymore.

Clare went to answer, but Abby beat her to it. The blonde grabbed your wrist to get your attention, “Price doesn’t matter to you, I’m paying.”

Squinting, you decided to let Abby take charge, knowing Clare will think into the action. Maybe you were petty, but you weren’t going to clarify anything to someone who didn’t deserve it. Also, things happen, people move on. And who knows who Clare has kissed? Who she hooked up with? It may have only been thirteen weeks since she broke up with you, but she’s always been extroverted.

Clare bit her lip, you didn’t miss the way she quickly glanced down at Abby’s hand, which completely engulfed your wrist. Clare looked back up at Abby, “Is that all?” She deadpanned, face going blank. But you knew, she was always so easy to read for you.

Abby didn’t seem phased, “I’d like a medium hot mocha.” She ordered, smiling. She slid her hand down your wrist, warm fingers meeting your own as she held your hand. The blonde wasn’t dumb, she knew Clare was jealous, and she was happy to play along. PDA wasn’t easy for you though, heat creeping up your neck as you pulled out your phone to distract yourself.

Abby exchanged money for the drinks, being sure not to let go of your hand. Their voices were muffled, your mind a loose telephone wire. Abby, the hurricane that caused it, led you to the end of the counter to wait for your drinks. Why did she do that? Of course she helped you out, but she didn’t have to. She obviously knew there was some history, and she didn’t seem to mind acting like your girlfriend. Abby’s grip on your hand increased, you looking up to see her looking at you.

Was it just you, or were her hands sweating too? She was giving you a reassuring grin, but you couldn’t help staring at her lips. They were just on yours a few nights ago, and the memory resurfaced. Abby said something, but you didn’t listen, still entranced. Abby gently took your phone out of your hand, causing you to blink rapidly. She had gotten closer, real close. Leaning down to look you in the eyes. Concern was written all over her face, her forehead creasing as her eyebrows pinched together.

“Are you okay?” She whispered.

You noticed just how hard you were gripping her hand. How fast your heart was beating. You should have ordered decaf. Releasing the death grip you had, you gave her a small smile. She didn’t let go though, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Yeah,” You didn’t elaborate. Not too close to Clare, no, she didn’t need to know what you and Abby were talking about. Clare didn’t need to know the emotions you were desperately trying to hide. “You can let go,” you whisper, looking at your intertwined hands.

Abby didn’t let go, she placd your phone into her pocket. She took her other hand, placing it on your chin to guide your face up to hers. God, was she always this brazen? Your cheeks were on fire, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. Why was she doing this?

“I figured she looked jealous,” Abby whispered. She tried to meet your shifting eyes.

“Here I thought you were a dumbass,” You whispered back, deciding to look at her eyebrows.

“We can go back to the dorm after the coffee’s done,” She offered, not letting you go. Why did you let her take charge? She seems to love playing with Clare. And you, she always teased you.

You shifted your eyes back to meet hers, searching. Surely she was annoyed at having to go back to the dorm. Back to your safe space. Maybe she was disappointed. Having to leave because you can’t handle this situation. To be honest, you had it together until you realized Clare thought you and Abby were together. Well, you really never had it together.

Abby wasn’t disappointed though, no hints of annoyance gracing her features. Just concern, care for you. It warmed you, grounding your mind for just a moment so you can think.

“Yeah, that would be great.”

When you and Abby entered your dorm room, Max was playing video games with Tatum. They were obviously talking about you, maybe even how you always talked about Abby with them. They looked at the two of you with such guilty faces, you just knew they were.

“Hey,” Max greeted the two of you as you passed them on the way to your room.

You waved back, Abby deciding to speak, “Nice see you two again.” She smiled, right behind you.

Opening your bedroom door, you wave for Abby to go in first, closing it behind you. Before you closed the door, you looked to see Max and Tatum smirking at you, and you gave them a warning glare. Yet, you knew they were going to gossip, maybe even make up fanfiction.

Abby was standing in the middle of the room, glancing around. To your left was your twin bed, random blankets and cat stuffed animals scattered acrossed it. To the far end of the room was a desk full of books, a mini fridge with a microwave sitting on top of it, sitting to the right of the desk. To your immediate right was a coffee table with a small tv, your PS4 hooked to it. The one in the living room was Max’s, since he plays more often. The lighting was dim, only a cat lamp sitting on your desk gracing the room with a pale yellow light.

“Are you okay?” You ask, not liking how quiet Abby had gotten. Given any other situation it would be fine, but you basically let Abby play as your pretend girlfriend.

At your question, Abby turned to you. Worry was etched onto her features. “I’m sorry,” Her voice was soft, hesitant.

“For what?”

Abby bit her lip, not looking you in the eye, “For making things awkward. For taking advantage of you in front of your ex, for taking you out for coffee.”

Blinking, you were quiet. She didn’t really take advantage. You knew if you told her to stop, she would. Also she couldn’t have known about Clare, hell you didn’t even know.

“She broke up with me,” You say, sitting on your bed. You leaned back fully, laying now on the bed. “You didn’t take advantage. I let you, also you did me a huge favor.”

The bed dipped beside you, “Did you a favor? I triggered your anxiety.”

“Not really,” You tap your fingers together. “It’s always there. A bird hitting my window could do the same thing you did.”

Abby went quiet for a few minutes, only the sound of your heartbeat returning to your ears to soothe the silence.

“Me touching you is the same as a bird dive-bombing your window?”

Choking out an incredulous laugh, you cover your face with your arms. Smiling, you huffed with laughter.

“God, Abby,” You say breathlessly, “No, I meant that as in convincing my ex we weren’t ‘just friends,” You managed to catch your breath, sitting up to rub the tears from your eyes. You looked over to Abby, pausing at the way she was looking at you. There was such fondness in the way she looked at you, a small grin at the corners of her lips. Her eyes, usually indifferent to the world around her, now looking at you with a tenderness usually reserved for a lover.

“Just friends,” Abby hummed, breaking the stare you both were holding. She looked down at her lap, fingers picking at her nails.

Tears were drying on your cheeks as you stared at her. Was she now embarrassed at the way she acted? At your words? Did she not want to be just friends? You were frozen, yet your heart was beating fast. Too fast.

“Thank you,” You whisper, causing her to look back up at you.

It was her turn to say, “For what?”

“For being so damn determined for me to talk to you,” You say, still whispering. You were afraid that if you spoke any louder she’d leave, “For being so annoying that I gave up tolerating you and decided to become your friend.”

“I was annoying?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing her shoulder lightly. She barely moved, licking her lips.

“Yes, you are annoying.”

Abby rolled her eyes this time, looking back at you with a smirk. “Thank you for allowing me in.”

“You seemed safe.”

Posted on: 4/22/23

WC: 2,670

[bluelizze]

Ok so having black butler grell brainriot so I completely scrapped all my old black butler ocs to make a sorta self-insert oc kinda situation

(Click to read more about this handsome fella)

Some basic info

Elliott Allen (might change last name idk)

He’s transmasc and goes by he/they pronouns

He’s a vampire (I love vampires and I am one)

Works at a tailor with someone whom he known since their great grandfather (bc some backstory shenanigans)

He loves making outfits as a way to express himself and his feelings

Backstory

Not everything is set in stone but these are just some ideas I have

Obviously, Elliott was born a girl and for the most part was fine except that they felt more masculine on the inside while still enjoying feminine stuff

elliott was also known to be pretty fragile (ik very cliche) so he picked up sewing to pass the time but eventually starts to like it

I have no idea how elliott would become a vampire tbh, so if u have any ideas, lmk

anyways, what made elliott realized that he’s a man was a nice tailor he met when he was window shopping

he and the tailor became good friends and later he learned that it was ok to be a man while accepting his femininity

I should note that he met the tailor after becoming a vampire

He soon became a sort of assistant/apprentice and continue on doing so for every generation pass down

At one point, the tailor built a separate room for Elliott so kinda like a studio but adding a bedroom in the same room bc they learned that Elliott never really comes out of the shop (at this point, lives in the shop)

madam red and her husband were one of their regulars so elliott had some sort of attachment with them

which kinda leds to the next part

AKA MY FAV PART (AKA A PART WHERE SOME OF YOU MIGHT WANT TO STOP IF YOU DONT LIKE)

OC X CANON FT. GRELLE SUTCLIFF THE QUEEN OF REAPERS

The two met shortly after grell became a full ledge reaper and basically elliott was like “omg you are the one I need for this outfit I’m working on” and particularly pushed grell to their tailor to try on the outfit and omg grell looked so pretty

after that, grell would frequently stop by at the shop during closing hours bc she’s aware that that’s when elliott is pretty much active (she doesn’t know they’re a vampire yet)

it would mostly just grell talking about her work and complaining while elliott measures her for his next week or making the outfit has he actively listens

nothing really changes once the two learn of each other’s true nature but it just made the two fell of each other even more

well… for elliott. it takes grell even longer to kinda realize it

bc grell had always fancy other men, it made elliott somewhat jealous and insecure of himself for not fully being the man she wanted

which somewhat led to having the worst gender dyphoria of his life

grell later catches on and basically realizes that elliott was the man she wanted all her life

bc he did not care about the fact that she used to be a man, and loved her as a women and treated and cared for her like one

she realizes that elliott was basically treating her the way she has always dreamed of, for who she is inside and outside

buuuttt it took a while for her to get to elliott bc he was so emotionally closed off

this is where madam red comes in, she was sorta the stepping stone to help grell realizes elliott's pining love for her

she also helped grell by telling elliott that the commission was from someone she knows very well

anyways, elliott just made the dress as he was told only to find out that the person that madam red was talking about was grell and grell basically was like "sooo.... i didn't realize how much i was hurting you and i didn't really mean it..." (idk how to write this without making her out of character)

grell put on the dress and basically fell in love with elliott even harder and basically confessed her love to him by hugging and kissing him (yes in those cartoon fashion ways where lipstick stains was all over elliott's face as he gots heart eyes)

after that, elliott slowly becomes more open with his life and his emotions with grell

he does eventually learn that just because grell fancy other men, doesn't mean she feels any sort of romantic feelings towards them

it doesn't fully stop with elliott possessiveness and jealously towards other men but it wasn't as bad as before

pov: elliott grips grell's waist and basically says "trying to eye my lovely grell aye?" as grell shivers at the possessiveness in elliott's tone

when elliott meets sebastian, the jealously went somewhat off the roof

he was relieve when sebastian verbally shows that he isn't intersted in grell

but elliott was still jealous of him bc sebastian is partically elliott's dream masculinity (if you know what i mean)

it took some time for elliott to open about it with grell and when he did, grell basically spoils him for the rest of day

also yes, elliott does drink blood from grell and ofc grell enjoys it, a little too much but hey, it's a win win for the both of them

elliott did not fully liked the idea of sucking off from other people before he met grell

he still doesn't but he wouldn't mind if it's grell bc he loves her and she enjoys it

even tho it’s not rlly official (they both don’t know when it will be official), they like to call each other husband and wife

���why, this dress is for my lovely wife in red 😙”

“Isn’t my dress lovely 🥰? My hubby made it just for me 😘😘😘”

Trivia

besides the whole vampire aestheic, he was partically inspired by phantom of the oprea

he can dance, specically he can do ballet

he loves doing the waltz with his mannequin in dresses, but now he does it more with grell whenever she models for his outfits

══════════════════

edited: N/A

[fixfoxnox]

How does it feel writing the last chapter bossman? Also I’m gonna miss this fic, I’ve reread this fic at least 5 times this month alone, this fic is just simply the best, also I went back and read some of your AO3 notes specifically chapter 8, u mentioned the fic had maybe 2-3 chapters left at that point, I’m so glad u decided to pick it up afterward cause look at this fic now 😭😭😭 much love!

Guys ngl its really sad for me tbh, like when I said it was bittersweet I really did mean that.

I am happy to be finished with it because it means I actually did it! I set out to write the fic and I managed to do it!! Not only that, but I'm super proud of the way that its turned out and the world I've been able to create for it!

I feel like I've done the characters justice and I've created a universe and established relationships that I love and care about which is a very big deal to me! This also definitely has made me feel more confident in my writing abilities and the fact that I can actually write something this long (any other multi chaptered fic I've worked on had been usually left incomplete 🙃). It also just kinda tells me how much I'm into COD rn landjjfjfjf

But at the same time it is very sad/odd. I'm falling into a weird area as I finish this where its like...what do I work on now? Like do I try to start another multi-chaptered fic? I want to, but I'm scared I'll leave it incomplete like I've done others. So there's some weird kinda anxiety going on there (and general sadness cause I'm like knowing that I'll probably stop getting so many requests that are connected to sito)

But also its weird cause like I've dedicated the past three months of my life to this fic and now its over. And when I say dedicated like...I mean dedicated. I've tried to kinda skirt around it, but some of you guys have still kinda picked up on how quickly I update and how long the updates usually are. 7,000-9,000 words every 2-3 days is a lot to write super quickly and so most of, if not all, of my freetime over the past month has kinda been dedicated to this fic (a little sad but I'm anxious and going out is scary so)

So now that I don't have this to work on I'm kinda like 🧍what am I gonna do with all this free time??? And I'm also just generally sad that I won't get to write the SiTO versions of these characters as much anymore lol

Also yeah, lol, I definitely did not intend for this fic to end up being so long and I am legit so bad at telling how long my fics will be akfbbdbdjd

Like idk if I've mentioned this before, but when I first started writing SiTO I fully thought it was going to be a longer one-shot (like 15,000 words) and I refused to admit that it wasn't a one-shot until like 60,000 words in akfjfjjfjfbf (yes I did write over 60,000 words of this fic before posting any of it lol)

Then initially I was going to end the fic actually after the Ghost/Roach/Soap initial get together. Like Makarov was going to die during that chapter because at the time I vouldn't figure out how to justify Yuri being alive and him still having his memories (and I stone cold refused to kill Yuri so). Then I figured it out and went back and heavily heavily edited the arm injury chapter, the bar chapter, and the chapter where Roach and Makarov first talk so that it would all flow together for Makarov to come in as a bad guy!

Lots of things changed as I wrote them lol

[velvetwastaken]

I spot another ask meme so you know what that means lol! 3, 4, 10, 16/17 (they're pretty similar so just choose what fits u more ig?) and 50 if you'd like!

well, I appreciate it! these ask games are my ego boosters lol

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Ough, this is a tough question. I'm bad at seeing these kinds of patterns in my own stuff. BUT I think all my fics are some form of friends to lovers or enemies to lovers (or they are intended to be eventually if the fic is pre-relationship).

I'm also pretty sure I use way too many idioms. Like excessively, problematically so. It’s also kinda how I talk though so that’s my excuse 😅

And I really hope that all my fics, even the angsty ones, have moments of humour in them. I know there's almost always something that’s made me laugh out loud while writing, and so I hope anyone reading it also finds it at least mildly amusing.

There's probably more, but I’ll leave it there for now.

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

Am I supposed to specify the fic? Let me know if you had a one in particular in mind for me to think about. I’ll just pick a couple off the top of my head for now.

I like the description in my levihan fic where Levi and his horse wipe out because I had a wreck almost exactly like that when I was working on a ranch. Actually that whole fic is just full of horsey details that please my inner horse girl to no end 😂

Specifically for ganqing, I’m actually really pleased with sneaking in the blueberry cookie detail in Must Love Cats 😂 It’s super minor, I know, but I had already written that part before I was educated about Keqing’s favourite cookie, so then obviously I had to intentionally go back and change it. It makes me feel like I know Keqing a little better now lol.

10. How do you decide what to write?

hmm. I feel like this is a deceptively tricky question, lol. Is it how do I decide what ideas to develop into a full story, or is it how I decide how that story goes? I think the answers to either will be less than satisfying since I barely know myself tbh 😬

For the former, usually there is a scene or image that sparks the initial idea. It might be from a legit prompt, but more often it's just a passing thought, probably inspired from something I saw or experienced at some point. Sometimes the process for writing the story is just getting to that scene, other times it's just starting at point A and seeing how far the idea takes me.

For the latter, I'm pretty bad for not outlining anything and just winging it, so I don't know that I 'decide' anything. It sounds hokey, but I do think I sometimes get to a place where I'm in the character's head enough that they are telling their own story and I'm just transcribing it (this was very much the case for Reversal). I am experimenting with outlining though, and it's been helpful to a point, but having decided what should happen next and actually writing the prose for it are two very different things and I am suffering 🫠

All that aside, there is a part of me that thinks nothing is really decided when it comes to writing, nothing is set in stone. Once I write something I can change it a hundred times after that. I consider everything to be a draft of sorts, even after it's up on ao3 or whatever. And in a way that's very comforting. Writing is flexible in a way that my life is not and I like that very much.

16. What's an AU you would love to read (or have read and loved)?

I love AUs. There are so many good ones! But for a current top three, let's go with University AU, Office AU, and Scifi/fantasy AU. I would read any of these AUs all day long 😂

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

Okay! I’m going to pick #40 and answer that one for this freebie lol

Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

And the answer is a resounding YES! I reread fics all the time. I have some on rotation because they are just that good they demand to be reread regularly. I honestly love rereading and even rewatching anything that’s made me happy before. Just because I know what’s going to happen doesn’t mean I can relive those feelings again.

[snowstories]

Reading Round-Up June 2023

Books Read

An Unauthorized Fan Treatise by Lauren James

Described as "a serialized murder mystery novel set in a fictional fandom, formatted like a shipper's conspiracy theory", which is very accurate. It can be read in full (for free) here. I have mixed feelings on this novel. On the one hand, it's really clever in a lot of ways, I love Gottie and Rob and their parallels, and it absolutely nails the fandom atmosphere. The first half of the book feels just like reading unhinged fandom discourse, which, if you're a nosy bitch like me, is fantastic. The second half, however, plays the (murder) mystery a lot straighter, and that's where it kind of lost me. I don't feel like the mystery is quite strong enough to work without the gimmick. I do think the novel uses its chosen framing device really well, but the ultimate mystery was such a let down for me it left a nasty aftertaste. I would still recommend this novel, though, because at the end of the day, it's a unique piece of writing with a lot of thought and effort put in. And besides, I am difficult to please when it comes to mystery novels, so others might enjoy this more than me. (PS for the best experience, make sure you know the story of the MsScribe drama.)

The Call of Cthulhu, The Curse of Yig, The Man of Stone, The Horror in the Museum, The Thing on the Doorstep, The Tree on the Hill, and The Shadow out of Time by HP Lovecraft

This month I finished Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos stories. I still hate this guy's writing and am relieved that I'm finally able to leave it behind. From this month, the ones worth reading if you're interested in Lovecraft's worldbuilding are The Thing on the Doorstep, The Shadow Out of Time, and The Call of Cthulhu. This man's writing is never not racist but I'm specifically warning for racism in The Call of Cthulhu, in particular in regards to mistreatment of voodoo, racism against Inuit people and repeated usage of the esk*mo slur, and repeated usage of the word 'mongrel' to refer to a diverse group of people of colour.

Phoenix Extravagant by Yoon Ha Lee (Did Not Finish)

I bought this book about three years ago for my birthday but never got around to reading it. Finally decided to pick it up because I was in the mood for something lighter, and unfortunately I did not enjoy it. I read up until about halfway through the book before deciding I did not care. The premise of this book is absolutely killer (giant mechanical dragon powered by magic paint does revolution against an imperialist nation), but unfortunately the writing/execution is just not every good. The worldbuilding's pretty interesting, as is the actual dragon, but the author does not seem to have a good grasp on how to distribute information, leading to either over- or under-explaining, which ended up being the death knell of this book for me. It's incredibly difficult to care about the plot when you barely explain the rules of the magic system your plot hinges on. This, combined with a small slew of other minor problems (the prose is mediocre, the pacing a little-less-than-mediocre, and I find a few of the narrative decisions this book makes to be annoying/baffling) made me frustrated while reading more often than not, and unlike what my Lovecraft adventures would have you believe, I am not a completionist and I do not make a habit of reading through books I don't like.

The Murderbot Diaries: All System Red, Artificial Condition, Rogue Protocol and Exit Strategy by Martha Wells

Currently listening through Network Effect. Picked this series up in a bundle of audiobooks sold for charity basically on a whim because it was an insanely good deal (less than 20 euros for the whole series + a lot of other books). I'd vaguely heard of the series but went in pretty much blind. Delighted to announce that it's great and I'm enjoying it immensely. Murderbot is a fantastic protagonist/narrator, and tbh it's hard carrying the series, because while the rest the narrative (worldbuilding, other characters, prose, etc) isn't bad, I feel like thusfar the only other stand-out elements are ART's character and maybe the portrayal of the Company. But Murderbot is just such a compelling character it's impossible not to be charmed by these books. They're funny as hell too. Favourite book so far is Artificial Condition.

Shows Watched

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury

Finished season one, on episode two of season two. Having an absolute blast watching this show; I really enjoy most of the characters and I'm interested to see where all that political intrigue goes. However, I do think that the school setting works against the show (it feels unnecessary most of the time and is boring compared to alternative options imo) and I feel like the transition between season one and two was pretty poor. It also has intermittent pacing issues. In addition, this is my first ever Gundam show and though I'd heard this was accessible to newcomers, and that's probably true bc I'm following along fine, I really do feel like I'm working with half the information most of the time. How exactly Gundams work is very underexplained in the show. I assume this is background knowledge long-term viewers are expected to have, but maybe it's a flaw in the worldbuilding, I can't say. At the end of the day though, most of the issues I have with this show are nitpicks and don't affect my enjoyment.



Games Played

The Great Artists

A game with minimal gameplay elements, in which you follow a group of phantom thieves and a detective right before and after a painting gets stolen. You can jump back and forth through time, allowing you to follow different people who are doing things simultaneously, which is the only interactive element. It's cute and interesting, plus I love the art, but I found the lack of interactive elements a little boring. You can get it here on itch.io.

[nebulanewts]

Ok so one more but now with their 4th solos / L!L!L! (Love the Life we Live!) solos,again there was just a point where I did a lot of these this is the last Nijigasaki one for now at least until we get their 5th solos later this year as usual

Ayumu - Silent Blaze (I feel like I’m running out of things to say here,but like her solo for this album it is definitely a shift from her older solos and would show Ayumu in a cooler image like Break the System)

Kasumi - Toy Doll (Again,I had a hard time picking a character to sing Mia’s solo especially since I’m not the biggest fan of this song,but I feel like this song is right up Kasumi’s alley with the sort of cheeky cute kind of vibe the lyrics have so yeah)

Shizuku - Concentrate! (Just now noticed I’ve given Shizuku two cutesy songs,but I feel like this would be cute and fun to see her / Kaorin doing a more retro sounding song that’s rlly about it)

Karin - Yada! (Ok,NOW I’ve given Karin a cute song instead of a vocal centered one…yeah I kinda just picked this one bc it’s totally different than Karin’s normal image and would be funny and bc SetsuKarin again that’s all)

Ai - Eieisa (I just think Ai doing a more traditional sounding song would be cool to see,plus if Shizuku / Kaorin’s prop in the live was a sword it would be 10 times better imo like Ai with a sword?? Yes please I’ll take twenty)

Kanata - Itsudatte for you! (I think Kanata did a Emma song last time,but one KanaEmma and two it just works it’d be really cute if it ain’t broke don’t fix it ig)

Setsuna - TO BE YOURSELF (This song already sounds like an anime opening,so to me it’s right up Setsuna’s alley also Kasumi did CHASE! the first time so yknow it’d be a flipped version of that)

Emma - First Love Again (Ok I think this is the second time I’ve given Emma a Rina solo,but again I think it would be cute to see not much else to say)

Shioriko - Ye Mingzhu (I feel like this would just be a really good performance,and a shift from Shioriko’s usual image + other solos also Lanzhu IS her childhood friend so it makes sense)

Mia - Turn it Up! (I don’t have a lot to say about this choice,it’s a bit boring but felt right I considered giving her First Love Again bc MiaRina supremacy but eh this one works too)

Lanzhu - Diabolic muiler (Vampire queen Lanzhu. That is all I feel like Homin could pull this off easily and I just love the idea of Lanzhu singing a song with a spookier feel like this one)

[thetomorrowshow]

Get Him Flowers

friends enemies and future lovers, i am back home and had a wonderful trip

anyways i wrote some fluff! for like the first time in years tbh are you proud

this is my prompt fill for day 3 of @flower-husbands-week: Flowers!

~

“You know, Scar got Grian flowers,” Scott says out of the blue one day. Jimmy pauses in his work—they’re rebuilding the wall, stone this time, which Scott says will prevent it from being burnt down and Jimmy thinks looks cooler anyway.

He dusts his hands off, frowns. “When was that?”

Scott shrugs. “Right after he turned Red, I think. Grian told me. Just showed up with a whole bouquet.” He picks up a stone brick, smiles. “Just thought it was interesting.”

And while that’s not exactly the strangest thing that Scott’s ever said, something about it feels like a hint. A hint that Jimmy really ought to be taking, if he just knew what it was.

He oughtn’t go to Grian and Scar about it—they were liable to tell Scott immediately, and Jimmy has a sense that this is something he’s meant to figure out himself.

He gets back to work for now, turning the strange comment over in his mind. What sort of use would he make of the information that Grian has flowers (probably dead ones, at this point) and that Scar gave them to him?

He puzzles over it on and off for hours. There's just no way that Scott told him for the fun of it. He wants Jimmy to do something, and Jimmy's not sure he'll ever have a clue as to what.

Even if he's meant to work this out, he can't, and he doesn't like disappointing Scott because it always makes him a little bit sad, which makes Jimmy sad as well, and then they're both sad and that usually ends in something being done wrong just out of carelessness and with Jimmy on Red, they can't afford a single misstep.

They finish the work on that section of the wall by the time the sun begins to set, and while it feels good to be able to stretch properly and view all the progress they’ve done, Jimmy can’t stop thinking about what Scott said.

It’s got to be a hint of some sort. He keeps note when Scott does these things, and after the week of prodding at the design of Jimmy’s base had hit his oblivious ears Scott had huffed and complained and then fixed it himself. He’d been short with Jimmy for the entire next day. He doesn’t want a repeat of that occasion.

He can’t go to Scar and Grian. That means there’s only one other real ally he can visit, and to be fair? Cleo’s more likely to know about this stuff than Scar is.

Jimmy sleeps that night beside Scott, lying in bed for a good hour after Scott kisses him goodnight and promptly falls asleep, stares at nothing as he plans out his day tomorrow. Make some excuse to go to the Crastle, figure out what Scott had meant, then maybe stop by the desert to check on the reputation board and get back in time for dinner, hopefully with an answer to his questions.

-

“Crastle folk! It is I, Jimmy of the Hobbits!”

Bdubs’s head pops over the edge of the Crastle. “Whaddya want?” he screams down. “I’m on Red, I can kill you if I want!”

Jimmy freezes, one hand shading his eyes as he squints up at Bdubs. “But—but you won’t, right?”

Bdubs shrugs. “Have you seen Cleo?”

That had been his question as well. Cleo tended to be the more reasonable of the two, and she’s more likely to be able to help Jimmy than Bdubs is.

“Look, can you come down?” Jimmy eventually calls. “It’s—the sun’s in my eyes, and this shouting is exhausting—”

Bdubs’s head disappears. A minute later, the drawbridge lowers and the man skips over, his sword in hand. “Hi, Jimmy!” he says brightly, completely at odds with his threatening stance. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good! How’s the Crastle?”

“As huge as ever!”

“Great, now—” Jimmy glances around; still no Cleo. “See, I was coming over looking for Cleo, but if you’ve not seen her either—”

“No, she left hours ago,” confirms Bdubs. “Haven’t seen her since. Maybe I can help?”

“Oh, gosh, Bdubs, I just don’t know what to do!” Jimmy spills instantly, and he would’ve collapsed dramatically had there been anything to collapse onto. “Scott told me out of the blue that Scar gave Grian flowers, and when I asked why he was telling me he said it was just something he thought I ought to know! I don’t know why though or what he wants, so I was gonna see if Cleo had any clue.”

Bdubs nods seriously. “Oh, yeah. That’s an issue. No, I got nothing. Cleo should be back soon, wanna wait here?”

Jimmy agrees and the two of them shoot the breeze for a while, Bdubs’s sword ending up in the grass and Jimmy’s chestplate beside it. The urge to steal it is strong, but Jimmy’s pretty sure it’s more of an instinct to keep it away from Bdubs rather than attack him with it. He’s never quite felt the Red bloodlust that the others have described, preferring to stay back from skirmishes in order to protect Scott.

He resists, of course, and it’s only twenty minutes of chatting before Cleo comes over the hill. Jimmy feels immense relief—Bdubs’s fingers had been inching closer and closer to the sword hilt with every minute that passed, and he really didn’t want to fight the Crastle today.

“Cleo!” Bdubs yells, hopping up from his seat in the grass. “Cleo! Cleo! Hi!”

“Bdubs!” comes Cleo’s voice as she waves. “Hi, Bdubs! And . . . Jimmy?”

Jimmy salutes her.

“Why are you here?” Cleo asks once she’s close enough, walking right past them and into the Crastle. Jimmy takes it as an invitation in and follows Bdubs over the drawbridge. Cleo drops her satchel on a table inside, and Bdubs sits at said table while Jimmy hovers at the door. After a moment, Cleo shoots him a glare. “Well?”

And so Jimmy launches into an explanation of exactly what Scott said, what they were doing at the time, and why he thinks it was important. Bdubs adds entirely unhelpful comments throughout, but he manages to wrap it up in about twice the time it had taken him to explain it to Bdubs.

Cleo stares at him. Jimmy shrinks back a little bit. Is that a confused stare, or a why-am-I-dealing-with-this-idiot stare?

After a moment, she blinks and says, with utter despair and disdain, “Jimmy.”

Ah. So the second kind of stare, then.

Jimmy spreads his hands. “So . . . what do I do here? Please tell me what Scott wants, I’ll give you—” he searches his pockets, he’s got absolutely nothing— “a free pass to play Chick Chance?”

“I don’t want to play your stupid game, thank you.” Cleo still hasn’t moved, her mouth hanging slightly open, as if still unnerved by just how stupid Jimmy is. “I—” she rubs her face, grits out, “he wants you to get him flowers. Just go get him some flowers.”

She turns away, muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously disparaging.

It’s . . . it’s an odd request, isn’t it?

Bdubs is now nodding knowingly, but Jimmy’s just not sure. Scott doesn’t usually want anything like that. Usually, if Scott wants something like that, he’ll just go out and do it himself.

“There’s some flowers down by the abandoned village,” Bdubs suggests helpfully, opening the door for him. “Good luck!” He practically pushes Jimmy out of the Crastle, slams the door in his face. Jimmy stands there for a moment, still trying to work out why he has to do this, when the drawbridge starts raising. He barely makes it back over in time.

Well, Scott’s word is law, he supposes. Jimmy puts any doubts he has out of mind and hikes his backpack higher onto his shoulders before setting off for the village.

-

The sun is setting by the time he loops round to the desert, waving to Scar and his bumblebee up on Monopoly Mountain. Scar calls his name cheerily, and Grian emerges from within the house, waving in response. Both make their way down the mountain toward Jimmy, who waits patiently by the reputation board.

“Hello, Jimmy!” Scar greets, his bumblebee bouncing behind him. “What brings you to Monopoly Mountain?”

“Timmy, could you give Scott a couple of these blaze rods in exchange for some nether wart?” asks Grian, coming up behind Scar. “He was meant to come by earlier, but—” He stops mid-sentence at the bundle of wildflowers suddenly shoved under his nose. “I—what?”

Jimmy brandishes the flowers, some dirt shaking off their roots. “They’re for you! Happy—whatever the occasion is, I’m not sure.”

Grian frowns, glances at Scar, looks back at the flowers. “Tim, I—what’s this?”

Jimmy sighs, straightens his shoulders self-consciously. He hadn’t looked at the enderman on the way in, right? Probably not. The desert marks him uneasy, he really just wants to get home. “Scott just told me to get you flowers, all right? So here you go.”

Grian blinks, but moves to take them. “I—why? I don’t know—”

“I don’t know either,” Jimmy tells him, and as soon as the bouquet is out of his hands, he tugs his backpack up and heads out. “See you boys later!”

He’s sure that Scar and Grian are still watching him as he leaves, but Jimmy feels more relieved than anything. He’d done exactly what Scott wanted, and he hadn’t even needed too much help!

When Scott explains to him, later, tone vacillating between upset and hysterically amused, Jimmy blushes to the tips of his ears. That’s going to be an awkward conversation with Grian later.

But now, finally, Jimmy understands, and he picks a bouquet of poppies for his perfect husband—and as he gently pulls each one from the dirt, he holds the stems tight, transferring all the love in his heart to them.

Somehow, he thinks later, stretched out on his back in the field with Scott’s hand in his, Scott had received every ounce of love poured into the flowers clutched to his chest.

[liriostigre]

hey! I wanted to ask what your favorite poetry books are? I have a few but I want to read new and interesting stuff, and I trust your taste :D

hiii ♡

tbh i only started reading poetry collections like,, last year. i'm subscribed to poetryfoundation's newsletter (poem of the day) so i usually just read random poems

anyway, i'm not sure my recs could be considered new (cause i'm gonna start with Mary Oliver ♡) but feel free to message me if you want to know the themes, style, feeling (vibes, if you will) or anything you want to know about these collections. for now, i'm linking my favorite poems in each collection, i hope this helps you choose! ♡

here you go:

Dream Work —Mary Oliver (“Wild Geese.” “Dogfish.”)

Red Bird —Mary Oliver (“Summer Morning.” “Love Sorrow.”)

Blue Horses —Mary Oliver (“To Be Human Is to Sing Your Own Song.” “Loneliness.” “Little Crazy Love Song.”)

The Wild Iris —Louise Glück (“Sunset.” “Retreating Light.”)

Haruko/Love Poems —June Jordan (“On a New Year’s Eve.” “Mendocino Memory.” “Toward a City That Sings.” *under the cut)

Extracting the Stone of Madness —Alejandra Pizarnik (“Primitive Eyes.” “Summer Goodbyes.” *under the cut)

Ariel —Sylvia Plath (“Tulips.” “The Rival.”)

Prelude to Bruise —Saeed Jones (“Postapocalyptic Heartbeat.” *under the cut)

Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth —Alice Walker (“Coming Back from Seeing Your People.” *under the cut)

I Must Be Living Twice —Eileen Myles (“Edward the Confessor.” *under the cut)

Teaching My Mother How To Give Birth —Warsan Shire (“Conversations About Home (at the Deportation Centre.”)

The Black Unicorn —Audre Lorde (“Hanging Fire.” “Sister Outsider.”)

Bright Dead Things —Ada Limón (“The Riveter.” “Glow.”)

Night Sky With Exit Wounds —Ocean Vuong (“Thanksgiving 2006.” “Logophobia.”)

Postcolonial Love Poem —Natalie Diaz (“Manhattan Is a Lenape Word.”)

Crush —Richard Siken (“Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out.”)

Once —Alice Walker (“So We've Come at Last to Freud.”)

“Toward a City That Sings” by June Jordan

Into the topaz the crystalline signals of Manhattan the nightplane lowers my body scintillate with longing to lie positive beside the electric waters of your flesh and I will never tell you the meaning of this poem: Just say, ‘She wrote it and I recognize the reference.’ Please let it go at that. Although it is all the willingness you lend the world as when you picked it up the garbage scattering the cool formalities of Madison Avenue after midnight (where we walked for miles as though we knew the woods well enough to ignore the darkness) although it is all the willingness you lend the world that makes me want to clean up everything in sight (myself included)

for your possible discovery

“Primitive Eyes” by Alejandra Pizarnik

Where fear neither speaks in stories or poems, nor gives shape to terrors or triumphs.

My name, my pronoun — a grey void.

I’m familiar with the full range of fear. I know what it’s like to start singing and to set off slowly through the narrow mountain pass that leads back to the stranger in me, to my own emigrant.

I write to ward off fear and the clawing wind that lodges in my throat.

And in the morning, when you are afraid of finding yourself dead (of there being no more images): the silence of compression, the silence of existence itself. This is how the years fly by. This is how we lost that beautiful animal happiness.

“Summer Goodbyes” by Alejandra Pizarnik

The soft rumor of spreading weeds. The sound of things ruined by the wind. They come to me as if I were the heart of all that exists. I would like to be dead, and also to go inside another heart.

“Postapocalyptic Heartbeat” by Saeed Jones

I. Drugged, I dreamed you a plume of ash, great rush of wrecked air through the towns of my stupor. And when the ocean in your blood went toxic, I thought fire was what we needed: serrated light through the skin, grenade in the chest—pulled linchpin. I saw us breathing on the other side of after. But a blackout is not night; orange-bottled dreams are not sleep. II. I was a cross-legged boy in the third lifetime, empire of blocks in my lap while you walked through the door of your silence, hunting knife in one hand, flask in the other. I waited for you until I forgot to breathe, my want turning me colors only tongues of amaryllis could answer for. It owned me, that hunger, tendriled its way into my name for you. III. In a city made of rain each door, a silence; each lock, a mouth, I walked daily through the spit-slick streets, harbingers on my hands in henna: there will be no after Black-and-blue-garbed strangers, they called me Cassandra. (I had such a body then.) Umbrellas in hand, they listened while they unlistened. there will be no no. after

the world will end no.

you are the reason it no. ends

you no. IV. I didn’t exactly mean to survive myself. Half this life I’ve spent falling out of fourth-story windows. Pigeons for hair, wind for feet. Sometimes I sing “Stormy Weather” on the way down. Today, “Strange Fruit.” Each time, strangers find me drawing my own chalk outline on the sidewalk, cursing with a mouth full of iron, furious at my pulse. V. After ruin, after shards of glass like misplaced stars, after dredge, after the black bite of frost:        you are the after, you are the first hour in a life without clocks; the name of whatever falls from the clouds now is you (it is not rain), a song in a dead language, an unlit earth, a coast broken— how was I to know every word was your name?

“Coming Back from Seeing Your People” by Alice Walker

Coming back From seeing your people You were So wonderfully Full Of yourself.

But now You have supped With vampires They have fed Feasted On you.

They arise Bright-eyed Fit.

You alone have lost Not only Your sleep But also Your glow The luster of Affection Heart welcome Your people Sent home With you.

Beloved You must learn To walk alone To hold The precious Silence To bring home And keep the precious Little That is left Of yourself.

“Edward the Confessor” by Eileen Myles

I have a confession to make I wish there were some role in society I could fulfill I could be a confessor I have a confession to make I have this way when I step into the bakery on 2nd Ave. of wanting to be the only really nice person in the store so the harried sales woman with several toned hair will like me. I do this in all kinds of stores, coffee shops xerox shops, everywhere I go. And invariably I leave my keys, xeroxing, my coffee from the last place I am being so nice. I try so hard to make a great impression on these neutral strangers right down to the perfect warm smile I get entirely lost and stagger back out onto the street, bereft of something major. It’s really leaning too hard on the everyday. My mother was the kind of woman who dragging us into stores always seemed to charm the pants off the cashier. She was such a great person, so human though at home she was such a bitch, I mean really distant. I imitate her and I don’t do it well. She didn’t leave her wallet or us in a store. I’m just a pale imitation it is simply not my style to open the hearts of strangers to my true personhood. I hope you accept this tiny confession of what I am currently going through. And if you are experiencing something of a similar nature tell someone, not me, but tell someone. It’s the new human program to be in. It would be nice for at least these final moments if we could sigh with the relief of being in the same program with all the other humans whispering in school. I can’t quite locate the terror, but I am trying to be my mother or Edward the Confessor smiling down on you with up-praying hands. I am looking down at the tips of my boots as I step across the balcony of the church excited to be allowed to say these things. Outside my church is a relationship. On 11th street this guy and this woman are selling the woman so they can get more dope. All their things are there, rags and loaves of bread and make-up. And there was— this was incredible. Two men lying by the door of the church giving each other blow-jobs. They were sort of street guys, one black one white. I said hey you can’t do that here. They jumped up, one spit come out of his mouth. If you don’t get out of here I’ll call the cops. Don’t call the cops we’ll go, we’ll leave. That was a shock. That was more than I expected to see in a day. Something about seeing the guy spit come out of his mouth. He didn’t have to do that. I guess I scared him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was scared too.

[alectology-archive]

This covers chapters 6, 7 & 20 mostly, and in a very small measure chapter 5, too:

I lightly skimmed the egwene pov - I definitely remember why I got such gay vibes from her and avi.

also I was definitely not misremembering why I enjoyed the series so much for all its flaws - I really didn’t vibe at all with sanderson’s writing style and his priorities - which are on the opposite spectrum of RJ’s priorities (and my priorities!). every dialogue exchange is purposeful and pulls its weight with characterisation and character development; RJ also manages to do a shit ton of worldbuilding in every other passage, and does such a great job of immersing you in the setting and the culture he’s currently writing about. I really missed his writing style - but the joy the books brought definitely wavered while I was reading CoT, I think, because you could tell that the series was starting to really drag at that point. I was thinking of rereading the series only up to book 8* next year, maybe, but I’ll probably try to extend it up to book 11 because I don’t remember those last 2 books very well.

*in another post I said I’d advice people to stop reading the series at book 12 - but that’s still a very long way to go so I think book 8 feels like the better stopping point since it’s midway through the series. I mostly say that because it ends on a high point for every character except mat, but mat doesn’t have any high points after book 8 until book 9/11 anyway. rand understandably faces the consequences for ignoring the black tower at the end of the book and I feel kind of bad about negating his accomplishment at the ending of book 9, but getting into book 9 would mean immersing yourself in new plot angles for elayne, egwene (off-screen) and mat. (book 7 is also a valid cutting off point but TPOD is short, so. you could as well read it anyway, tbh.)

anyway. back to the book.

Striding to the center of the room, he planted himself atop the mosaic there, the ancient symbol of the Aes Sedai, ten feet across. It was an apt place. “Under this sign will he conquer.” That was what the Prophecy of Rhuidean said of him. He stood straddling the sinuous dividing line, one boot on the black teardrop that was now called the Dragon’s Fang and used to represent evil, the other on the white now called the Flame of Tar Valon. Some men said it stood for the Light. An appropriate place to meet this attack, between Light and darkness.

rand fully has a thing for theatre and performance and silly little symbolisms that matter to him alone - we also see it when he picks jeade’en’s name, puts callandor back in the stone of tear, starts carrying around the seanchan spear to remind himself of the threat they pose, etc. his middle name is drama, and I love it that he chooses to do some of these things purely for himself. it’s such an interesting character thing. he’s also a nerd (affectionate).

darkhounds are as big as ponies???

oh he’s channeled balefire before? I’ve forgotten the details, but I somehow thought he first used the weave in TFOH - was it in TSR/TDR then? Hm, I don’t think so - I’m inclined to believe it was lews therin’s memory making him misremember stuff because I remember rand using balefire and its consequence and benefits being a major theme in TFOH.

from rand’s POV there’s definitely a lot more affection and concern for mat than it seemed like there was in mat’s POV! he also seems a lot more boyish than he did from mat’s perspective, obviously - and once again I’m delighted by how RJ does POVs so well. the problem is, rand is growing colder & more distant and mat is increasingly finding it difficult to parse out his friend in the midst of everything - mat’s question to rand, constantly, in this book is, “Won’t you stop me from leaving? Won’t you ask me to stay? Will you just be sorry to see me go and not do anything about it?” and rand’s answer is, “I want you to have a chance at not being trapped by fate like I am so I’m not going to stop you from doing what you want.” He doesn’t realise just how subtle and reserved mat is with his affections. I think mat is generally very embarrassed by the thought of being affectionate with people he actually really cares for - but he doesn’t mind being easygoing with random strangers - and I relate to that, lol. I get it. But rand has very demi vibes for a reason - he needs people to be more communicative because he never makes the first move + he also has that “I’m the dragon reborn and it’s better for everyone if they don’t want to be friends with me even if I’ll miss them” thing going on.

I was also maybe wrong about rand seeming cold and distant in mat’s POV because he probably mostly sees the leader in him, the more I think about it. I think rand seems cold because he’s consciously choosing to front an emotionless part of him even in front of mat. the same thing happened with moiraine and egwene - and I’m honestly blown away by the number of times we see rand try to maintain an expressionless face/remain cool/look calm and composed/try to give away as few emotions as a rock etc. it’s a lot!

Not only a friend. Another ta’veren, and perhaps a key to victory in Tarmon Gai’don; anyone who wanted to strike at Rand had reason to strike at Mat, as well. But Mat always tried to deny both things.

so…. yeahhh. the loops and holes mat jumps through to hide his personality and feelings really does a number on the people around him.

“You watch your tongue with me,” Moiraine told Mat, getting up, “or I will find Nynaeve and put her in charge of you.” But her heart was not in it; she could have been talking in her sleep. She was trying not to stare at the foxhead as Mat hung it back around his neck. “You will need rest,” she said absently. “Stay in bed tomorrow, if you feel like it.”

Mom! antagonistic mom-son relationship! also further confirmation that moiraine likes nynaeve even if the latter dislikes her - I just really hated nynaeve’s weirdness around lan and her trying to get him to choose between her and moiraine while reading the books? a platonic warder relationship shouldn’t count as competition with a romantic relationship. I’ll see how I feel when I reread those stuff next year - as much as I love the wondergirls, I think egwene’s character suffered because of her romance-heavy plot & nynaeve’s hate of moiraine seemed to descend into caricature levels of weird in the first few books. I’m not sure how RJ went from writing such a great platonic relationship between moiraine and lan to feeling the need to insist that romantic relationships should necessarily involve warder bonds.

rand asks the maidens to give mat some space and also admonishes them about essentially not respecting their boundaries - fair! but also he’s fully referring to how the baby him indirectly. let them baby you, rand.

“Maybe I’ll ask if I can borrow it from him.” He turned away from her. There was still one he had to check on, though one way or another the urgency was gone; the Darkhounds would have done what they intended by now.

I didn’t get it then, and I don’t get it now - if I were rand I’d be anxious to figure out if the only person capable of teaching me to channel was dead! maybe the logic here is that rand doesn’t mind if one of the forsaken dies, but also… this passage just goes such a long way in showing us rand’s true priorities - he really, really cares for mat. I miss the road trip and I hate that I didn’t finish rereading it before I stop my teotw reread.

(like obviously, a best friend is always a greater priority than a useful enemy, but that shouldn’t have stopped him from immediately checking on asmodean anyway)

[Moiraine to Rand] “I have given my entire life to the search for you, to find you and help you.”

Yeah, this was the line that fucked me up while reading the books! moiraine really did sell her life away to finding and guiding the dragon reborn, at great personal risk. in the end, siuan paid the price for their scheming. plus moiraine didn’t hesitate at all to sacrifice herself to kill lanfear to save rand even if she had good reason to suspect that 1. he was consorting with at least one of the forsaken behind her back 2. he was starting to go mad. at the end of the day, for all her complaints, I think she trusts his heart and for him to do the right thing.

this is unrelated but moiraine is the one who approves of balefire, rand using asmodean as a teacher and generally utilising questionable methods of achieving your goals that would horrify other aes sedai - cadsuane is notably stuck up about such stuff, and therefore, in my view, doesn’t make a good advisor, tbh. I think RJ even knew that - I don’t get what he was trying to do when he was criticising how old-fashioned she was while simultaneously worshipping the ground she walked on.

The White Tower forbids us even to learn it. In the War of Power, the Forsaken and the Shadowsworn themselves used it only reluctantly.

#ReasonsIHateAMOL - the forsaken are tossing around balefire everywhere for some reason! what the fuck. This is why I don’t vibe with egwene’s death or that stupid flame of tar valon weave - it’s lacking any sort of creativity or nuance and tears up established canon.

“That sounds just fine to me,” he told her. “Mat’s alive because of it.”

it means SO much to me that rand listens to moiraine list out all the reasons why balefire is dangerous and then follows it up with that response.

rand makes sure to protect mat here - he makes moiraine promise he won’t take mat’s ter’angreal away. I really like that, but I also think RJ sometimes went too far with making aes sedai so territorial about ter’angreal to the point where they act like they naturally have a claim over another person’s belongings? anyway.

Moving close to the bead curtain, he peered through the doorway. Moonshadows filled the room, but one of them was Asmodean, tossing in his blankets. Wrapped in the Void, Rand could hear his heartbeat, smell the sweat of troubled dreams.

this is what I meant about their relationship being so sensual - there’s something so illicit about the whole thing. rand visits him in the night, looks at him through a curtain, and notes that he’s sweating and having troubled dreams! these are all very intimate details to note about another person. somebody really needed to introduce him to the concept of queerness.

The male figure could link him to a huge replica of itself, the most powerful male sa’angreal ever made, even if he were on the other side of the Aryth Ocean from it. It had only been finished after the Dark One’s prison was resealed—How do I know that?—and hidden before any of the male Aes Sedai going mad could find it. The female figure could do the same for a woman, joining her to the female equivalent of the great statue he hoped was still almost completely buried in Cairhien.

huh, the strike at shayol ghul said that the access keys were located in a territory controlled by one of the forsaken at one point during the war and couldn’t be retrieved? Oh! and the wiki says that these are just two access keys among several others and that egwene discovered a damaged one in tanchico when she went dreamwalking! obsessed. maybe the access keys were unfinished at that point? or rj maybe forgot what he’d written, lol.

rand is still thinking of impractical things like healing death with sa’angreal. some arrogance, there, maybe, but at its heart it’s a very pure kind of desire. he does get to reverse death at the end of the book though - mat and avi with balefire! - I suppose rj manages to wrap up that particular plot point by giving him a workaround for healing death. I love it.

I love that rand admits that he can’t be trusted with the vast amount of power various sa’angreal grant him. I love him, and I love egwene for trying to poke at the boundaries of what’s considered abuse of power and what is not - they’re both such fascinating characters to read about. they’ve both come into power having never expected such a thing, grapple with what it means to be responsible for so many people, and slowly come to realise that even if it’s a burden, it allows them to do good things.

also as a random thought, elayne haters don’t deserve rand because rand would hate them for hating elayne. and so would mat, actually.

I just remembered how annoying lanfear could be with her nonsense about loving lews therin. I love the idea of one of the forsaken being a very close friend/lover/companion of lews therin’s and having complex feelings about killing and/or allying with rand but lanfear was not it.

anyway, it didn’t make sense to me in the beginning that she would try to ally with rand when she knew he’d potentially betray her (although right now, I do think it’s very stupid of lanfear to believe that rand is allied with her and dreams of achieving power with her when he hasn’t ever done anything to prove he’d like that) but I think it’s a good idea that she’s a renegade and doesn’t really care about the dark one - she did create the bore. of course she’d try to replace him.

He dreams of you triumphing over the Great Lord and putting him up beside you on high.

yeah, even asmodean is weirdly obsessed with rand!

[Rand] He pushed away a sudden memory of this woman [Lanfear] in his arms, both of them young and just learning what they could do with the Power.

help, did lanfear and lews therin use the one power during sex? is that what this is implying?

sex jokes aside rand is struggling SO hard with lews therin’s memories. I didn’t remember it being this bad. I think him sort of growing used to lews therin later is what makes this really go hard? his only safe space is his head - he had to eventually ward his dreams to keep the wise ones out - so the fact that he isn’t allowed even that to himself is very tragic! in general, rand is just continuously having his body violated in several different ways. and because I can’t help paralleling rand and egwene, it’s interesting how loss of agency marks such a major point in both their arcs - it’s being made a damane for egwene, and dumai’s wells for rand. it doesn’t make them stronger people, and it leads them to commit questionable acts sometimes and act irrationally but that’s okay. that’s how trauma works. unfortunately, rand learns zero coping mechanisms while egwene has a healthier arc because of her training sequence with the wise ones.

speaking of rand and egwene, I don’t know exactly what I feel about the relationship they have. I didn’t see it before, but I do understand why people were saying they’re like siblings - and I don’t know if I ship them exactly (I mean, it could have been incredibly romantic if they’d sort of fallen apart and fallen in love again at the end of everything - I think that idea just really stuck with me while I was still reading the early books - egwene choosing rand over the aes sedai in the early TGH chapters made me very weepy) but a sort of soulmate bond that transcends romance and friendship is something I probably vibe more with. the latra/egwene parallels have me in a chokehold - and now that I think of it… it would’ve been thematically such a great thing if egwene had joined rand in shayol ghul? or if she’d at least broken the seals herself? insert obligatory AMOL hate post, I guess. I’ve read very few books in my life that managed to make me as angry as it did - I think it even manages to beat ACOSF for the Bad Books title (I think I made 160 posts when I was live-blogging it and had zero complimentary things to say about it).

I don’t get criticisms about mat struggling to come to terms with rand’s ability to channel? even egwene has a very hard time reconciling the two. it’s natural and expected - it’s a common legend and belief in the westlands that TDR and male channelers are people you should fear! the belief is as instinctual as the need to breathe. how can RJ say it more blatantly than with this line:

Growing up, she had been taught that only the Dark One was more to be feared than a man who could channel.

moiraine is just *obligatory siuan mention* whenever we get her POVs. she is so gay.

on a cliff at jangai pass there seems to be a symbol of a snake curled around a staff carved onto it - this brings to mind the rod of asclepius? I don’t know if it’s not meant to be analysed a lot - I don’t think it is. but on the other side of the pass there’s a dock and a couple of ships. this makes me wonder if it was a hospital? would a hospital from the age of legend use the same sort of symbols used in the first age? if not a hospital, I’d guess that it’s some outpost of sorts. rand is guessing that the waste could have been under the ocean before.

there was a ‘silk path’ from shara to taien! yeah, I get why I thought shara was an asia analogue even silks and elephants aside. I can’t say anything about how race was handled - we don’t nearly see enough of the sharans to pass judgement on RJ’s handling of them, and from what I recall they’re not really any better or worse than the seanchan. the seanchan are probably slightly worse because of the slavery culture they have going on, but shara also treats its channelers like animals to be put in a pen so, uh. they also have this weird practice of killing their rulers every cycle or something too? anyway, I don’t like that vibe. I also don’t like the vibe of “asian culture analogue being brainwashed by a forsaken so that he can use them as fodder to fight alongside literal monsters against the side of the Light”. I blame that on sanderson, though - I think he didn’t think through the implications of how he introduced and handled sharans. I still wouldn’t have been opposed to seeing more of them if we’d had characters like Egeanin (and I did kind of like that one sharan guy we met in KoD).

rand is now reminding himself of the prophecy that says he’d conquer under the ancient sign of the aes sedai and is making asmodean carry it. I love it when he purposely tries to make prophecies work in his favour, and I love all of RJ’s interesting takes on prophecy - I need to find that post I’d compiled and rb it again. I think I last updated it with rand asking cadsuane if the pattern would kill her if he willed it in book 12 - not exactly prophecy, but prophecy adjacent and that counts to me.

rand is being very protective of egwene and avi right now, as of chapter 20.

How long now had he been doing what was necessary instead of what was right? In a fair world, they would be one and the same. That made him laugh, a hoarse wheeze. He was far from the village boy he had been, but sometimes that boy sneaked up on him.

Nothing to note about this, really, but I remember reading and rereading this specific passage when I first read TFOH - I think it definitely makes a point of highlighting how rand’s motivations work in the latter half of the series, especially maybe his choice to treat with the seanchan instead of defeating them on the battlefield because he needs their support in defeating the dark one.

as a parting note, I think mat should stop sleeping in his fine clothes. it sounds very uncomfortable.

[buckhelped-archive]

bon’s coloring tutorial

so this tutorial was originally requested by @eddiesbuckaroo​​ who wanted to know how i colored this edit, but i'm an idiot who's terrible about saving PSDs, so instead i used the same method on this one (spoilers for 911 5x01), so i’ll be using 2 of those gifs in this tutorial

so if you look through my edit tag you'll see that i'm basically incapable of making an edit that is not gaudy super colorful, and while sometimes i do use the whole color layers/masking technique (if you're not familiar with what i'm talking about, the lovely and talented ally has a great tutorial on that here), i often don't because the scenes i'm using have too much movement and i'm a bit of a masochist

SO this tutorial will be focusing on how i get gifs like this:

without altering any layer masks

rest of the (way too long) tutorial under the cut!

(side note: yes i am using 2 scenes from the most recent episode of 911, but it's mostly just buck and eddie looking at each other so it's not really spoilery)

BIG disclaimer first: this is a very loose method. because it doesn’t use layer masks, it relies on building color and contrast largely from the colors already present in the scene. this means sometimes you’re able to get really nice contrast between the characters and the background, and sometimes you’re not. and certain colors just aren’t going to work well. and no single step is set in stone. you’re gonna have to be willing to play around with things and start over if need be

disclaimer #2: i’m almost entirely self-taught when it comes to coloring, so if something seems dumb or inefficient that’s probably because it is. if you know of a better way to get a similar effect, go for it! (and better yet, let me know!!)

alright, all that aside, let’s look at gif #1: 

WHY do they have to make it so fucking brown 😭

the first thing i do no matter what is add curves, levels, and brightness/contrast layers

for my curves, i use the eyedropper tool as much as possible since it adds color correction as well as lightening. i’m not gonna get into the weeds on this, so for a detailed explanation of how to do this see this tutorial, but these are the points i clicked on:

for the white, i used the light behind buck, but instead of clicking on the brightest portion, i clicked i little to the right of it so that it brightened things up a bit. it also made things even more orange though, since there was a lot of blue/cyan in there, but i fixed that by picking a spot with more yellows/reds for the gray. for black i usually go for one step lighter than true black if i can find it, which adds a little more contrast

with those adjustments, and raising the main RBG curve a little, this is the result (upper left), along with what my curves look like:

sometimes the curves make a huge difference but it's pretty subtle here. then i do my levels and brightness/contrast, and in this case a selective colors layer on the reds and yellows since it's still pretty fucking orange (you basically just have to play around with this until you're happy with it):

now our gif looks like this and we're ready for the fun stuff:

i'm kind of obsessed with color palettes rn so i'm using this one for this edit. i decided i'm just gonna pick whatever color i like best for each scene, so i'm gonna use the third one for this gif, which means my goal is that kinda bubblegum pink

i also always choose a secondary that's more or less on the other side of the color wheel for things like highlights. this usually ends up being cyan/blue if the color is warm, and magenta/yellow if it’s cool, just because i personally don’t like working with green and red bc tbh i think they’re hard to make look pretty.

so basically now i start building up color, pushing everything i can towards pink, and everything that doesn’t really work with pink towards cyan

the first layer i add is always a color balance layer, which i use just to nudge everything in the direction i want. i usually just adjust things by 5 points which honestly doesn’t add much and probably isn’t necessary in most cases but whatever i do it anyway

these are the settings i ended up with:

you’ll noticed i went with cyan instead of magenta for midtones and highlights, and that’s because there’s so much red in the background and buck’s face and i wanted to mitigate that a bit.

sometimes i add a channel mixer layer here, and i did try that initially, but it wasn’t really working for me. that’ll come up with the next gif though. for now, i add my first solid color layer and go through the blending modes to find the best fit. you’re generally gonna wanna steer clear of the lighten section since that’ll replace your blacks with the overlay color and that’s hard to work with. i went with soft light for this one and set opacity at 40%, and now the gif looks like this (in the circle is just the base coloring above):

next is a selective color layer. i basically just go through each color in order and adjust them until i’m happy with them (make sure you have it set to absolute and not relative, otherwise the adjustment is too subtle). this is what i ended up with:

(there isn’t a green one bc there’s no green in the scene) initially i tried to adjust the reds to be a bit more pink but because buck’s face is almost the exact same color as the wood behind him, it made him like. fuchsia. not a good look. i played around with it for a while but there was just no way to adjust those bits separately, so i took the L and just accepted that the wood was just never gonna be pink. better that than pink oompa loompa buck. so instead i turned down the magentas and turned up the yellows to preemptively mitigate the pink on his face when i add the next color layer (god bless ryan guzman’s olive skin that doesn’t absorb red like a sponge). so this is what we have now:

for the next solid color layer, i normally set it to color and set the opacity between 20 and 30% depending on the scene. this one is at 20%:

aaaand another selective color layer:

(no yellows, greens, or cyans this time) i had to do a pretty significant adjustment on the reds to, once again, make buck’s face look normal. the blues and magentas were just to bring out the pinks a bit more and get it even closer to the goal color, and i added a bit of cyan to the white just to give it a little bit of contrast. same thing with adding cyan/blue to the blacks, but i also increased the black a little bit because of the pixelation on buck’s shirt. it didn’t make it completely go away but it helped:

the last major thing i did was a channel mixer layer. like i said earlier, i normally do this towards the beginning of this process but i just felt like this gif needed a little extra help. channel mixer can be daunting to work with, and i usually just do small increments with it, but i did use it a little more heavily with this one:

in my experience, the best way to learn how to use channel mixer is just to play around with it, but there’s also this tutorial which does a really good job of explaining how it works. anyway, now my gif looks like this (and we’re almost done!):

the last layer i added was a b&w gradient map to soften the colors a bit since we’re approaching oompa loompa territory again. i set it to saturation and opacity at 15%. then i just did my standard sharpening and export settings and voila! the final product:

onto gif #2! here’s what it looks like to start:

i’ll be using the fourth color in the palette for this one, so my goal is a mild purple

the first four steps are gonna be exactly the same as before, i.e. curves > levels > brightness/contrast > selective color (on relative to fix skin tone). after all that we have this:

then we add our color balance layer. since the goal is purple, for the shadows/midtones i increased the magentas and cyans, and the yellows in the highlights for contrast:

this time, i did add a channel mixer layer, and but just increased/decreased everything by increments of 5:

and here’s the gif so far (the circle contains the base coloring from above):

next is a solid color layer set to linear burn, opacity at 30% (again, just play around with blending modes until you hit one that fits):

selective color layer (i decided play up the contrast in the cyans rather than the yellows, which is why the yellows ended up kind of salmon-colored):

another solid color layer set to color, opactity 20%:

i’m actually happy with how the colors look now, so for my last selective color layer i’m just gonna adjust the whites and blacks:

like before, the last thing i did was add a b&w gradient map set to saturation at 15% opacity. with that and my sharpening, the finished product is this:

and that’s it! like i said at the start of this, none of this is set in stone, so don’t be afraid to play with everything and get comfortable using all the different layers and tools. and if anyone needs any clarification anything, feel free to send me an ask/dm or reply to this post! happy coloring!!

[thran-duils]

Total Eclipse (P.2)

Title: Total Eclipse (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Sherlock Holmes (RDJ). Sherlock had an impression on the reader from a formative age but he was always so busy running with cases. Their moments of passions were coveted between the two but they were few and far between. He left with Watson on a case and in that time, her parents found her a suitable man to give her to. Wealthy and accomplished. Sherlock and her have not been able to let go of each other though. Words: 3,792 Warnings (for the whole fic): Angst, infidelity, smut, swearing, substance abuse, non liner storyline, character death, 18+ as always Author’s Note: There is heavy backstory here in italics! I was reading up on Victorian customs and tbh, I’m not privy to it at all, so I apologize if things are not historically accurate!

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You walked away from where your ladies tea was going on, brushing your skirts out. You had begun to become uncomfortable sitting on the blanket and wanted to stretch your legs.

“Do not wander too far,” your mother called out to you.

“Of course not, mother,” you called back over your shoulder.

She would not notice how far you wandered when she was this engrossed in the latest gossip from the castle.

Coming onto the cobblestone, your eyes set on the fountain. There were goldfish inside and you made a point to always come to the fountain when you visited this park. You nodded at a couple as you passed them, exchanging pleasant smiles. They did eye you somewhat curiously at the fact you were walking alone but pleasant, nonetheless. Reaching the edge of the fountain, you leaned over, peering into it.

Just as you were reaching into the fountain, a small gust of wind hit you and you felt your hat fly off the top of your head. You let out a noise of frustration, turning around, eyes searching. It was tumbling away and coming to the feet of a gentleman sitting on a bench. His eyes were on you, and you had a feeling they had been for a bit.

He dipped down, picking your hat up from the cobble stone and stood up from the bench. His hands came up to brush at it as he walked towards you. He was careful with the fabric, his own coat bristling in the small breeze at his sides.

“Your hat, miss,” he said holding it out to you, giving a small bow.

You thanked him and took it.

He was terribly handsome. Dark hair, tousled just so, not to the point that he looked unkempt. His eyes were an alluring shade of chocolate. There was a playfulness in them and they excited you.

“You must keep a good hold on that. It’s woven perfectly,” he continued.

“Perfectly?” you asked, putting the hat back on.

“Yes. It’s immaculate. The stitchwork. Whoever did it took great care. I believe it is the work of the hatter on Bishop’s Gate, east end?” Your mouth fell open in surprise as you pulled the ribbon down beneath your chin and you froze. He gave a light chuckle at your expression, “Sorry, I have a keen eye for detail and a memory to boot. May I?” He asked suddenly, his hands reaching ever so slightly towards your face, eyes on the ribbons for a moment to explain what he was asking.

You stilled, your hands falling to your sides, and he took it as invitation. You breathed easily even though your heart jumped at him being so close. You did not even know this man; he was bold. Coming forward, his hands latched to the ribbons, tying it better than you could. He had a nice smelling aftershave and you locked eyes, your breath hitching. He was suspended in your gaze for a moment before clearing his throat.

He gave a brief smile as he pulled away. “That’s better.”

Something had happened there. And you pressed it.

“Are you sure you would like to tie it that tight? I may want to lose it again if it means you’ll fetch it for me?” you asked.

He actually looked amused, and you were relieved. You were constantly scolded from a young age for being so coquettish. “Bold. Aren’t you?”

“I’ve been told so.”

“Miss….?”

“Miss Y/N L/N. And you?”

“Sherlock.”

“That’s it, then?”

Now he was coy. “For now.”

“So, there’s to be a future, then? Between us?”

He caught your wit, amused even further. Thankfully he did not think you crass and he did not chastise. He was returning your flirtations. “I think so, Miss Y/N.”

“Well, I look forward to the future then. You live in London?” you questioned.

“Yes. Do you?”

“Most of the time.”

“’Most of the time?’” Sherlock repeated and you shrugged.

“Sometimes I dream of escaping. It takes up some of my time, pulling me away from here.”

He smirked at that. “I suppose I should say most of the time too. My mind pulls me to places. As well as my job.”

“Lucky you,” you said sincerely, and his expression was warm. He was interested in you. He was older, not terribly but there was distance. Reaching out, you touched his topcoat. “You are a bit of a pyromaniac it seems. Or just terrible with the cherries of your cigars. Please tell me it’s not the latter.”

“What makes you say that?”

You cocked your head and pulled down his vest and his eyebrows rose at the movement as you exposed some of his chest hair peaking out from beneath his dress shirt. You ignored his stunned look, doing your best to not linger on his exposed chest. Your finger landed on his dress shirt, pointing out the singe. “Do you think I’m blind, Mr. Sherlock?”

He let out a small laugh.. “I thought I hid it well enough beneath the vest.”

“You must not move as quickly as you have been to keep it hidden. Now, tell me. Why would you not just get a new shirt? You surely have the money. I mean, if you know the hatters on Bishop’s. And it’s not just anyone that splurges on a silk tie.”

He cocked his head, eyes running up and down you. You smiled in response, seeing you had impressed him.

“I haven’t gotten around to it,” he shrugged.

“Busy man, then.”

“Quite.”

“Too busy to escort me through the park?” you asked.

He eyed you and asked, “Would that be entirely inappropriate? We did not set this up beforehand.”

You shrugged now and said, “I could tell the gallant story of how you saved my hat from getting dirty in the mud. And I asked for you to walk me back. I did get quite a look for being on my own on the way over here.”

Sherlock’s lips pulled into a smile, and he gestured for you to walk. You were thankful he had initiated it; it was societally appropriate for him to initiate everything. How you wished you could loop arms but that itself would be societally inappropriate considering you had just met. Your mother would simply have a heart attack if she saw that, especially with so many possible suitors in the park.

He came to a stop, and you stopped as well, watching him curiously as he left the path. He reached for the rose bush, and you grimaced as he reached straight into it. He could cut his hands. But he yanked, his fingers moving ever so, pulling a single rose off the bush. His hand was unharmed.

He presented it to you, and you took it gently.

“A token of appreciation of your company, Miss L/N,” he said.

Examining it, you observed, “Pink. Are you of grace and sweetness? Or is that to refer to me?”

“I would have given red would it have been readily available,” he smiled, and you felt heat creep. “Also, pink can symbolize admiration. That is breaching on the red, is it not?”

You shrugged, keeping it close. “Yes, I suppose so. A fine point.”

The two of you walked on and Sherlock asked lightheartedly, “Where is your escort, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I am here with a ladies group. They’re probably sitting at the blankets still, tittering about the gossip,” you responded. “My mother especially. She loves being in the center of all the gossip and drama.”

“My, I must watch my back returning you. Would not want to start any rumors.”

“Would rumors about us be so bad, Mr. Sherlock?”

He was tickled. “You really have no shame, do you?”

“Only in the presence of people I think I can trust. Not all women are complete straight laces. And frankly, most are only that way in public. Have you not spent a lot of time with women in private spaces?”

Sherlock chuckled, “That is a very loaded question, my dear. Where did you ever learn to banter like this?”

“I have an older brother. And your ‘dear’?”

“Have I offended you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

His eyes were alight, sharing a look with you. It was only interrupted as you passed another couple and nodded at them, Sherlock doing the same.

“Ah, like I said,” you said coming back over the bridge. You spotted them still eating their small cakes and sipping on their tea. Sherlock followed your gaze and you leaned in, “Thank you for providing me a walk. My legs had become quite numb sitting on the ground for so long.”

“My pleasure,” Sherlock responded.

You saw that one of the women had noticed you and Sherlock approaching over the bridge and you needed to hurry up the conversation. Pressing your luck, you asked, “Do you happen to have an invite to the Mayberry Ball?”

“Unfortunately,” Sherlock sniffed.

“Would it still be unfortunate if I was there?” you inquired.

Sherlock’s eyes were locked with yours and you came to a stop in the path. You stared at him with sincerity, waiting for his answer.

He cleared his throat, looking away. “It would liven up the event, that is for sure. I am terribly bored at those events, but I am dragged along by my… partner.”

“‘Partner?’” you asked, your fiery hope getting water doused on it.

“Confidant. Flatmate,” Sherlock explained quickly sensing your discomfort, meeting your gaze once more. You visibly relaxed, and he no doubt noticed. He resumed walking with you down the path. “He encourages me to get out. It is why I am at the park today. I had only been out for about a quarter of an hour before you showed up and I had already been considering heading back inside.”

“What a shame, sir. To hide yourself away. Who knows who you’ll meet if you only ventured out?” you stated, shrugging in a lighthearted manner.

“Too true,” Sherlock returned, eyes bright. He shot a look towards where the tea was being held and then cleared his throat, straightening up. “Well, it looks like we have been found out, Miss L/N. I suppose I should let you get back to your lunch. I have taken up too much of your time.”

“The pleasure was mine, Mr. Sherlock,” you assured him as you reached the edge of the grass.

Sherlock gave you a curt bow and turned towards the ladies and gave them a smile and a bow as well in acknowledgment. The ladies bowed their head in return, and you kept yourself from smirking at the fact they all looked like chickens bobbing their heads in unison, eyes fixated on him.

“Enjoy the rest of your afternoon. Make sure to keep that hat tied tightly, Miss L/N,” he told you before turning on his heel and walking off.

You watched him walk off for a few moments before turning back to the tea.

Your mother was on you the second you sat down.

“Who was that man? And where did you get that rose?”

“My hat flew off and he fetched it for me before it went into the mud. I was foolish, I should have tied it before walking off. A gust of wind caught it,” you told her calmly, fixing your skirts around your legs as you relaxed in your sitting position. “And I made a comment about the roses, so he picked one for me. I was afraid the poor man was going to hurt his fingers, but he was careful. Very kind of him to do so, it does smell lovely.”

“And his name?”

“Mr. Sherlock.”

Your mother eyed where he had walked off and she said, “Why does that name not sound familiar?”

The other ladies looked at a loss as well and you merely shrugged in response. “Maybe he is new to the city. I am grateful he walked me back. Are there any cucumber sandwiches left? I am famished.” You acted as if you had little interest in him to get your mother off your back, but you were already thinking of what gown to wear to the Mayberry Ball.

<><><>

You looked down at your gown for the umpteenth time, making sure nothing had spilled on it. You had chosen a deep purple, silk brocade with silver detail. It was one of your finest and your mother encouraged it, considering it was the courting season and especially since it was your fourth season. Your father listened to you when you told him you were uninterested in the men who had tried to court you thus far, but you knew even his patience would wear thin with your pickiness and your hand would be forced.

Eyes wandering, you stood by where your brother was recounting a story to your father and mother. People spun to the dance, others off to the side, exchanging flirtations. You suddenly locked eyes with Sherlock across the room.

He grinned briefly before raising his eyebrows. He turned, disappearing back into the hallway behind him.

Your family was distracted with your older brother, and you easily slipped away through the crowd, following where he had gone. The hallway was empty and there were doors at the end of it. You pushed them open and were expecting him. But you were met with empty air and your brow furrowed.

“Sneaking away, Miss L/N?”

You startled hearing him from behind you. He was sitting on a bench against the wall, nestled between two tall plants.

Stomping over you glowered down at him.

“Did I offend somehow?” he asked as he stood up from the bench.

You scoffed, “You told me to sneak away! And then you startle me!”

“I did nothing of the sort! I merely made a face. And you assumed from there. I don’t argue your detection skills though.”

“Why do I feel as if you are jesting?”

“Never.”

You sighed before saying, “Well, I would accept a dance. But I am sure my mother would be on you in a second. She was already curious about the walk.”

“As you suspected. And she should be. A strange gentleman walking her daughter through the park. Especially during the season. And who said I danced?”

“Is that why you were standing on the outskirts?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You cocked an eyebrow and said, “If you haven’t noticed, I am single. I am to be escorted at these types of events. My father and brother were keeping me close until someone approached me to ask for a dance.”

“You’d already danced with three by my count.”

“You were watching me. For how long?”

“The detail on your gown is exquisite.”

“Will you always compliment my clothing? Is there nothing else about me to compliment?”

There was a pause, the two of you staring at the other. Sherlock’s lips twitched and he hid a smile. “It would be inappropriate of a me to engage in other compliments, no matter how much they are warranted.” Well, that answered your question in a sly manner, much to your pleasure. “But, being found outside with a man alone would tarnish your reputation. And yet you followed. Speaking of inappropriate.”

“And you encouraged it. Plus, it is not like I am a lady. I’m simply middle class. It would not affect me as greatly.”

“I would not say ‘simply’ in that regard. It is very respectable to be middle class. Especially since I can deduce your family is further into the elite side of it. And on the contrary, not being upper class, the situation which we are describing would certainly affect you greater considering you are closer to having less equity if a suitable match was not made within your own social class. Middle-middle class is less than lower upper class.”

He noticed your eyes were narrowed and he cleared his throat, stopping in his speech.

“Do you always speak so much?” you asked him.

“Yes.”

You spotted your brother going through the crowd inside in earnest, certainly searching for you.

“Well, do not change, Mr. Sherlock,” you told him, giving him a quick smile. His interest was piqued by the comment, and you added, “I’m quite serious. It amuses me so. You have intellect. But I must take my leave. I spot my brother who is certainly going to talk my ear off in an unpleasant way about wandering off alone. Even if I say I was using the lavatory and did not want to interrupt their conversation.”

“If you find yourself on New Bond Street…” you said in invitation. Sherlock looked taken aback and you quickly said, “I am sorry. I did not mean to be too forward.”

“No,” he recovered quickly. He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, that’s not it. You are just… very close to me. A few blocks actually… fascinating.”

You saw your brother cross again and you hurried, “Oh, well, yes, that is. What a coincidence. Well, good night. I hope to see you again.” You gave him a half curtsy before you turned.

He grabbed your hand and you stopped, facing him again. He brought your gloved hand up to his lips and gave it a kiss, keeping his eyes on you. “And I as well.”

A smile was on your lips as he let your hand go and you hurried back through the doors back to the ballroom.

<><><>

The day after your tryst with Sherlock, you were not surprised you were called on at home. Thankfully, Arthur was not home.

“A gentlemen is here to see you, ma’am. A Mr. John Watson.”

You greeted him in the parlor, the door cracked. You did not want to arouse suspicion about this gentleman visiting you while Arthur was out, no matter if he was known as an acquaintance. Although, he was far closer to you than anyone in the household would ever know. If the maids wanted to eavesdrop, they could do so gladly.

“John,” you greeted him and he took his hat off to greet you in turn.

“Y/N, you look lovely as always,” he complimented as one of your maids brought in a tray of tea.

John waited for you to seat yourself before he sat down as well. You reached forward, preparing two cups of tea for the pair of you.

“Thank you. You look well. Mrs. Hudson must be feeding the two of you well.”

“Quite,” he answered.

“Sugar?”

“Please.”

You handed him his tea and he placed it in front of him.

John asked point blank, “How was he?”

Of course John knew you had seen him. If Sherlock left 221B Baker, you were one of, if not the first, stops he would take on most of the time if John was not with him.

“He was Sherlock.”

John took a drink and you watched him closely. He met your eyes again and sighed, “He’s been manic.”

“Then it’s a good thing he’s coming back out to see us then, correct? He confirmed he would be at the masquerade.”

“It’s gotten worse since—”

“I don’t need to be reminded again,” you told John.

“I think you do. Are you happy here?”

You bristled at the comment. Why did men think they had such a liberty to comment on your choices? Maybe you should have closed the door, but you did not expect something like this from John of all people. Sherlock, certainly. But not him.

John noticed your expression and he opened his mouth, but you cut in testily in quiet tones.

“I wish you wouldn’t speak so loudly about such matters right under my husband’s roof.”

You did get up now and go to the door, closing it. This was turning into something else entirely than what you had expected. John was watching and you hoped he realized he needed to be quick about this to not give too much time for them to speculate what was happening in here. You sat back down.

He matched your quiet tones, thankfully, even with the door closed. “It’s the most sure-fire way to get your attention on the matter.”

Taking a drink of your own tea, you kept your eyes pinned on him. Swallowing, you placed your cup back down delicately. “I cannot leave my husband.”

“I wasn’t asking you to do that.”

Cocking your head, you asked, “Then what are you asking, John?” His lips were pursed and you knew you had caught him. You shrugged, “You’re asking me to leave my husband. Divorce is illegal for me to initiate if you have forgotten.”

“I know that. He’s always better after he sees you.”

“But?” you asked, knowing there was more.

“But he always reverts.”

“Because he’s not with me?”

John gave you a look now and he said, “You know it is true.”

“John, is this for you or for him?”

“Can it not be both?” he asked honestly. “I am concerned for my friend, and I can simultaneously be concerned for my own mental health and anxiety.”

You sighed heavily, looking out the window.

“I know it is near impossible for you to obtain divorce – or even a separation – but… if you simply saw him more.”

“How?”

“Bring him into your circle. Then it would not be suspicious if the two of you were speaking with each other. On the street, in a restaurant, at the park.”

“You know it not just speaking that Sherlock and I engage in,” you whispered.

John rose his brows, looking embarrassed, but said, “I know. But just seeing more often may encourage him to imbibe less and relax.”

“Do you understand how much I wish I could be with him?” you asked seriously. John was quiet and you shrugged. “There will always be a hole, John, for me.”

John leaned forward and said, “Then try what I am suggesting. Please.”

Studying his face, you exhaled, running the risk of the idea through your mind. Sherlock was unorthodox, but perhaps he could put up a front to be around the gentlemen your husband surrounded himself with. It was farfetched but… possibly.

“I’ll consider it. I am going to see him tomorrow night at the ball. I trust you are attending?”

John nodded, “Yes. I am.”

“Good,” you told him, getting up again and going back to open the door a crack. You did not see anyone in the hall but you doubted they had not been there and had only run away when they heard your footfalls coming towards the door. Facing him again, you said in your normal voice, “I am looking forward to the gooseberry pie myself.”

~~~

Fic tags: @undecidedsworld @mcnegan

[cedric-stories]

A Royal New Year Party

Word Count: Around 2,400

Plot: After getting done planning a New Year’s Eve party, Cedric meets a man that makes the sorcerer question his relationship with you.

Warnings: Angst and language

Author’s Note: This just came to me cause people used to be such jerks to my ex about us being a couple. So, kinda personal and kinda just I adore Cedric and want my baby to know he’s loved.

Author’s Note note: Okay, so I had another fic like this but I’m finally gonna address it; the world is set in our time so there are cell phones and stuff. I know I changed it from the show, but it was just easier for me. Also, this is gonna be the last fic for a few days. tbh, I haven’t even started the next ones, but I do have outlines. Hope you enjoy and happy New Year!!!

Reader pronouns: she/her

                                       A Royal New Year Party

Here it is, the greatest party of every year. The royal family’s enchanted New Year’s Eve party was only a few hours away.

           “Cedric, could you please conjure another bouquet of roses?”

“Cedric, can you please just conjure one more turkey? The chef ran out of bird, so he is begging you to make one; but please don’t tell the King!”

           “Cedric, can you put the floating plates over here?”

“Cedric, can you conjure a few more chairs?”

           “Cedric, where is god’s name is that turkey!?”

           Yes, these were the sounds the poor sorcerer had been listening to all day. Everyone and their chef have been pestering him. He was in the middle of all the bustling and rustling. Things at been nonstop for hours and he was getting sick of it. The past day, he had been conjuring plates, chairs, ovens, instruments, and everything in between to make this party amazing. King Roland expected the very best to wow his guests, so he wanted Cedric not only to create dozens of items, but to enchant everything.

The King wanted enchanted chairs that could sway with the music, enchanted instruments that could play on their own to give the orchestra a break, and enchanted silverware that could dazzle the guests with dancing and singing. It was quite complicated to cast spell after spell (especially enchanted ones) and it was beginning to tire the man.

           Cedric was finishing up one more spell when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Well done, Cedric!” The king boomed from behind the sorcerer, scaring him out of his wits.  

           “Thank you, your majesty. I am honored.” He said, turning and bowing his head.  

“You’re very welcome, things are coming along nicely. Now, since you’ve been working all day, have you given any thought to what you have planned tonight?”

           Cedric lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.

“No, I haven’t really thought of anything.”

           “Well then,” Roland paused, gesturing to all the gold and black decorations, “why don’t the two of you celebrate the new year with us? I’m sure y/n would love it.”  

“I-we would love to and I greatly appreciate the offer,” Cedric started, “but I think we are going to celebrate the new year just the two of us.”

           Roland gave Cedric a disappointed look.

“Alright, if you insist. We will all miss you and y/n. If you change your mind, you guys are welcome.”

           “Thank you, your highness.” He said, beginning to walk out of the ballroom through majestic, golden doors.

Cedric trudged through the halls of the castle. He came across the coffee shop on the corner of the ballroom and royal dining hall and scurried into line to get a cup.

           Workers of all types stood back to front. One man wearing a blue vest, top hat, and holding a scepter in his hands was in front of cedric.

           “Hello, sir. The name’s Jonathan” The man greeted the sorcerer. His eyes seemed warm and inviting enough to talk to.

“Oh, hello.” Cedric answered, barely shaking his head to try, and come to consciousness.

           “What do you do around here, fine man?”

“I’m the royal sorcerer for Enchantcia. You may know me by Cedric the Sensational?”

The man looked perplexed for a minute, then, as if realization came down from the gods, Jonathan’s face turned up and Cedric could see the lightbulb come on.

           “Oh yes! You are the one who tried taking over the kingdom a few years back!”

Cedric cringed.

           “Yes, I am.” He said, trying hard not to recall those memories but nevertheless, remembered them vividly.

           “My, I was sure good old Kind Roland would have you executed for that!”

“Oh yes, didn’t we all?” Cedric rolled his eyes.

           “And the way the towns folk talked about you, it musta been hard to show you face around them parts for a while, eh?”

“Eh.” Cedric sarcastically parroted back.

           “Why, never in my wildest dreams would old Winnie and Goodwin’s kiddy ever try a stunt like that.”                        

“Yes, quite,” Cedric paused, narrowing his eyes at the man, “foolish of me.”

“You know, your father saved old’ king Roland’s daddy from a few monsters like yourself!”

           “yes, yes, I know. Oh look, you’re at the counter, time to order now.” Cedric rushed.

“Oh, look at that. Hi, ma’am, I’ll have a…”

           Once the man had finished ordering, cedric got up to the counter and ordered a cold caramel frappe. After, he went to sit down and wait. The bustling of people became a background noise and Cedric finally got some peace. While he sat and tried to unwind-

           “There you are good buddy!” The same talkative man said, jostling over to Cedric.

“Here I am.”

           After a long talk about Cedric’s wrongs, the man began to inquire about Cedric’s personal life.

           “So, I doubt after your long, ungrateful journey back to civilized living hadn’t brought you company of any kind?”

           Cedric believed the man meant a significant other but wasn’t really sure.

           “Pardon?”

“A woman! Have you gotten yourself a woman?!”

           Cedric gave the man a blank stare and leaned away from his sudden enthusiasm. Why in god’s name does this man want to know so much about him? He thought about telling him or not. If I do, he’s going to go on how I don’t deserve someone, or not believe me entirely. And why does he just presume I have a woman? Has the man never heard of two men living happily together? Why does this man care so much about my life?

           “I do have a significant other.” Cedric finally let out.

“Well for heavens sakes, how the hell did you get one?”

           “Well, we met over a year ago and- “

“No one in her right mind would want you. You’re so unstable compared to others your age. Eh, she’s probably just waiting’ on someone better anyways.”

           Cedric was now completely offended and didn’t really know how to answer. Without saying another word, he rose to get his coffee from the counter and left.

On his walk home, Cedric began thinking.

I have been with Y/N for almost a year. I don’t deserve her. Does she even want to be with me? Maybe I’ve just fooled myself into thinking she really loves me when all this time she’s only stayed around cause there’s no one else. Maybe he’s right, maybe it was just weird I found her. She probably is just waiting for someone better to come along and leave…I’ve done so much wrong, maybe she doesn’t even want me?

           After his long debate, Cedric headed upstairs to his tower. The stone walls felt cold against cedric’s fingers as he guided himself up three floors of spiraled stairs. He looked out one of the windows to see the sun turning orange as it set over glistening red trees. It was beautiful in Enchantcia tonight. After looking for only a minute, he started back up the stairs.

Once he had made it to the door, he took a big breath and he walked in to find his girlfriend sitting crisscrossed on a table. You were wearing Black lacy shorts with flowers embroidered along with a spaghetti strapped top that matched. Trying to pick up your phone off the floor, you were dangling from the edge. You grabbed your phone and looked up to see your boyfriend.

           “Ceddy! You’re finally home.” You smiled, jumping off the table onto your sorcerer. Your hair was in a messy bun and fluffed up into his face when you grabbed onto him for a hug.

           “Hello, Angel.”

“I’ve been missing you all day.” You said, snuggling in tighter.

           “I have too. Oh, this is for you.” He said, giving you a hot mocha.

Your smile widened. “Thank you!”    After grabbing the hot beverage from him, you look a sip, and placed it on the table.

“You look tired.”

           “I am tired.” Cedric laughed, hugging you. He was happy to be home to you until he started remembering the conversation he had with Jonathan.

Noticing him grow somber, you asked him if he was okay.

           Cedric hesitated, “Yes, just tired I think.”

“Okay, why don’t you take a nap?” You asked, still having a questioning look on your face.

           “I may.”

You kissed him gently on the cheek and made sure he got to the bedroom. Closing the door behind you, you decided to grab a book and read until he woke.

                                                                       …

After a few hours, you decided to check on Cedric. You wanted to make sure he was okay after what happened earlier.

Walking into the bedroom, you found your boyfriend already awake on his phone.

           “Hello.” You greeted, walking along the side of the bed.

Cedric nodded at you.

           Carefully, you made you way to the upper part of the bed and sat down. Noticing his standoffish actions, you scooted closer to him.

           “Babe, what’s wrong? Please, tell me.” You quietly pleaded.

He looked over at you with glassy eyes. His face was full of pain, but you just couldn’t put a finger on what upset him.

           “Did I say or do something?”

“No.” He answered, shifting away from you slightly.

           “Cedric, tell me what’s wrong.” You grabbed his hand and put it on your lap.

He ran his other hand through his hair, and you noticed his shoulders tense.

           “Y/n,” he paused, his voice almost choking, “why-why do you stay here?”

You became confused.

           “What?”

“Why do you stay here…with me?”

           “I don’t u- “

“You have been with me for almost a year, and for merlin’s sake I have no idea why you stay.”

           “I love you.” You said, without thinking twice.

Cedric’s eyes met yours.

           “I love you, but I just don’t see how you could love me.”

You could feel the sting of tears in your eyes.

           “Cedric, how could you not see- “

“Do you know what I am?”

           You stared at him, “Do I know what you are?”

“Yes. Do you know what I am?”

           You ran your hand up his arm gently, “You’re mine.”

“No. I mean, do you understand what I’ve done? I’ve tried overthrowing the kingdom, I plotted against the royal family for years. Everything had a terrible motive, everything I did was selfish, I dreamed of making others bow before me. I am not a good person.”

           “Cedric! Of course, I know that. I’ve always known all of that. I love you for you. You are a good person now, and I don’t care about your past, I love you for everything you are and once was.”

           Cedric looked down then he cocked his head.

“Once was?”

           You took a breath.

“Cedric, I’ve never admitted it, but I really don’t care you tried overthrowing the kingdom. It’s not healthy, I know, but sometimes I think my love for you is stronger than my morals.” You laughed nervously. “You are my person, my lobster, as some show would say, and no matter what, I love you. I’m not saying what you did was right, but because I love you, I overlook it easily.”

           He grabbed ahold of your hand and you wrapped your arm around him. He hugged you back tightly and you knew he felt better. You kissed the side of his cheek and laid you head on his chest.

           “What even made you think of that, love?”

“Nothing, I guess I just will never quite get used to you being mine.”

           The two of you sat in silence for a minute, then cedric turned towards you.

           “The royal family is having a party tonight to bring in the new year. I was wondering if you would want to go. The King invited us.”

           You beamed a smile.

“I’d love to!”

About an hour later, the two of you were walking down the hall towards the ballroom.

Once you arrived, you were greeted by a loud orchestra and babbling voices. The room was full of women in suits and dresses and men in the same attire. It was an extravagant gathering with gold and black streamers lining the walls and draping over the ceiling. At the front of the room sat the orchestra with its self-playing instruments and band members walking about. Some guests sat on floating chairs and plates that followed behind others walking. Workers hurried around, grabbing dirty, golden silverware.

           Cedric and you started over to the royal table when Sofia came running over.

“Mr. Cedric! Miss. Y/n! I’m so happy you guys could come.” She shouted over the music, running up and giving Cedric a hug followed by yours.

           “I’m glad we could. Please tell your father that we are very grateful.” You said to the young girl wearing the pink amulet.

           “I will. Are you guys going to sit down? There’s two chairs next to me.”

“Yes, we are. We’ll be over in a minute. Thanks again.”

           “No problem.” Sofia replied, running off to greet the other guests.

           You had almost made it over to the table when a loud voice practically yelled at Cedric.

“Cedric! There you are old buddy!���

           Cedric’s shoulders stiffened again.

“Hello, Jonathan.”

           “Who you got with you?”

“This is y/n, she’s my girlfriend.”

           The man looked you over and made you rather uncomfortable.

“Oh my god! She’s beautiful! What the hell did you have to bribe her to come with?”

           Your eyes flung wide open and you gasp.

“What?” You asked in a flat tone.

           “No offense to you ma’am, You’re beautiful! I’m just wondering’ how he got someone like you,” he glanced at Cedric, “with his past and all.”

You shot Jonathan an angry look.

           “For your information, I love this man with all my heart and want to be with him for who he is. If you can’t accept that then you can just kindly leave us alone!” You snapped.

           The man looked shocked.

           “Well, I guess if you’re happy- “

“I am happy. Thank you.”

           “It was nice seeing you again old buddy.”

“A pleasure really.” Cedric smiled, wrapping his arm around you.

           The two of you began walking away. You couldn’t believe how rude he had been. Before you had gotten too far, you were boiling over with anger and wanted that man to know you adored Cedric. Suddenly, you whipped around to make sure he was still watching. You grabbed Cedric by the collar and kissed him firmly on the lips.

           Jonathan looked horrified at you. You gave a sarcastic smile at him and turned back around.

           “Jackass.” You spat out under your breath.

“You have no idea.” Cedric agreed, placing his arm back around you tightly.

           “I truly do love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Cedric.”

           Cedric and you made it to the table and joined the royal family. Later, the two of you along other couples shared a passionate kiss at 12am to welcome the new year.

[jawnkeets]

probably a strange question but: how did you develop your style when it comes to poetry? I really appreciate how you write and how it's vague and specific at the same time? don't know how to express what I mean exactly, but it's like phrases that you feel more than you really understand them sometimes, and that don't look like they should make sense at a glance but when you really read them they do. maybe you'll know what quality I mean 🙈 I feel like I'm way too literal when I write and I want to be a little more abstract in a say less, convey more kind of a way?

hey anon, thank you! not a strange question at all - it’s actually a very good question, and one that i was asking until recently as well (and to be honest am still asking!). i totally know what you mean.

i guess the shortest answer i can give you is that i think ‘poetic feeling’ is best felt full-on, but expressed to the side. it’s also something that genuinely does get easier the more you try to do it, i.e., is a skill that can be sharpened; to start with, everything feels like nonsense, or not quite right, and i felt like a bit of a fake initially, but as i did it more and more i had more and more tiny breakthroughs and gained confidence (which is a genuinely such a large part of any creative endeavour), and this can happen surprisingly fast and snowball; i switched up my style in maybe 1-3 months, just trying a little bit - maybe 15 lines - every couple of days or so. and i didn’t put pressure on myself, deciding if i hated it i’d delete it and reminding myself that no one had to see. i find writing short poems also really helps with practising: they can help you focus more intensely on each choice.

it’s also not a solo thing, or at least doesn’t have to be - i use random word generators, to different degrees depending on the poem, and also it’s surprising how much even just picking words off wikipedia can help, especially with themed poetry. recently i wrote a poem about the medieval period, and threw in words that came to me with terms from wiki pages about the medieval period (history, art, medicine, etc), to make noun phrases like ‘kaleidoscopic altar vision noise’, ‘law texture’, etc etc. the thing that’s helped me most, though, is reading other poems which i think have this quality, which tends especially to be image-heavy poetry: will stone’s translation of trakl completely changed the direction of my poetry, and lorca, rilke and seferis have also been invaluable. i also find authors that do weird things with syntax interesting, like e. e. cummings and j. h. prynne, but don’t go quite as far as them. i have a list of favourite poems which might help, and which i re-read regularly ❤️

something else i enjoy doing is practising reading and misremembering, which sounds like cheating but is actually an excellent way of generating new material. i remember reading (i think it’s this article) alexandra cook’s 'creative memory and visual image in chaucer’s house of fame' and it was a breakthrough for me. from memory (ironic - wish i still had access so i could properly quote from it/check stuff) it talked about how one dimension to medieval creativity was misremembering - that new ideas and originality came from the gap between what the work actually was and how another writer remembered it. trying to deliberately misremember is a lot of fun; a poem is then borne out of an interesting intersection of skill and contingency, which gives it an energy, i think.

on a kind of separate but related note, the classical ars memoriae, or ‘art of memory’, might be quite an interesting thing to play with in relation to writing poetry. what it is, for anyone that’s not familiar with it, is basically the notion that the way to remember things is by having some kind of system in your head - like spatialising the material (so you think about the room you first encountered it in and all the details to help you better remember it), imagining it in a sequence, breaking it up into sets - there are absolutely loads of ways. if this seems weird or alien, we still use mind maps all the time, which is a great example! to deliberately twist, literalise and tbh actually invert the art of memory stuff (i know this is a bit abstract eek), i’ve been thinking recently that it might be fun to distort ideas (themes, an image you like, a line you like) by running them through various ancient memory systems, because i think medieval thought had a point that these systems subtly distort things even as and precisely because their function is get us to remember them accurately (paradoxically, we bend them to our chosen way of thinking/remembering stuff, which alters the material). using ways of memorising we wouldn’t normally use, and forcing them to interact with material much more literally, can yield quite interesting results. in any case, it introduces different ‘head spaces’ which can be quite useful to take in a very loose way when trying to ‘think to the side’: here’s a starting list. to give quite a crude and simplified example, let’s say i’m obsessed with homer’s wine dark sea and want to write something based on it, but also different and original. what if i try to think of ‘wine dark sea’ as sequential (thinking of material in a sequence being one way of remembering things listed on the above wikipedia link)? i’m honestly not sure what that means, and i can’t envision that. it doesn’t even make sense, and is a deliberate perversion of what memorising things in a sequence would actually look like - ‘wine dark sea’ would be one chain in a sequence if the sequence was, e.g., ‘favourite quotes’. ‘wine dark sea’ itself can’t be a sequence; this would turn ‘wine dark sea’ into something logical, mathematical even. but then the phrase ‘mathematical wine dark sea’ is interesting and unexpected. and you can then play with that or variations of it - ‘wine sea: dark, mathematical’ would make a great opening line, and ‘wine sea mathematics’ and ‘wine dark mathematics’ are really interesting phrases (you know actually i quite like this - might go and write a poem about it now... lol).

that last bit is very speculative and i’m kind of thinking out loud, so feel free to ignore haha. i wrote a post on writing poetry a couple of years ago, too, which might have a couple of useful tidbits. i hope some of this is helpful!!

[mono-dot-jpeg]

dynamite - b. katsuki

summary; life is sweet as honey, or maybe they’re as sweet as caramel!

genre; fluff, comedy, soft bakugou, best friend! mina, fluff moments w/ bakugou, tsundere! bakugou is what i live for, 3rd year! bakugou

pairing; bakugou katsuki x reader

word count; 2.8k (if you count the lyrics)

a/n: tbh the song doesn’t really fit the theme but the song is cute and i wanted to use it in a fanfic at some point. this is my longest written one shot i think [._.]

ALSO IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! LET’S FUCKIN GO, GAMERS

the song is “dynamite” by BTS, if you haven’t listened to it, please do, it slaps. i didn’t do the entire song bc im too lazy and that’s too long to write ksdjfksdjf i have a limit :monkaW:

‘Cause I, I, I’m in the stars tonight

So watch me bring the fire and set the night alight

You were one of the energetic people in class. You had got along with everyone except the explosive blonde that was Bakugou. You hung out with Mina the most which was how you got initiated into the Bakusquad. With your Quirk, Boombox, it seemed almost perfect that you were in the Bakusquad. You converted sound into explosions though there were drawbacks (that you didn’t wanna get into) of course. 

Your classmates wondered if you had known Bakugou before you joined UA. On the first day, you challenged the male after you found out about his Quirk. Of course he had accepted the challenge and during Quirk Assessment, he had won. Ever since you had become another rival for him, but at least it was more of a healthy rivalry compared to him vs Midoriya (but I mean that rivalry got better overtime).

Thought there were several times where it seemed to be more than a friendly rivalry.

Shoes on, get up in the morn’

Cup of milk, let’s rock and roll

King Kong, kick the drum

Rolling on like a Rolling Stone

It was another normal day for you, except you were going to train with your Quirk. Music was blasting in your headphones as you mutter the lyrics, small explosions popping on your hands.

Before you could leave, Bakugou stopped you. “Oi, dumbass.” You looked up at him, sending him a smile. “You going to train?” You nodded at the male.

“Mhm! You wanna come with? I wanna practice working with my quirk! Let me practice with you!” You said eagerly.

“Ugh, you’re like an annoying puppy, you dumbass. I shouldn’t be inviting you to your own practice.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, I’m coming with you.” He bonked your head before you rubbed the spot he had hit.

“Hey! You’re like an angry Pomeranian! You’re not any different from me! Come on! Let’s go! I’ll beat you this time!” You said, starting to pull him by the arm as he quickly protested to the physical contact but made no move to tug his arm away.

“Like you’ll beat me. I’m still gonna win.” He scoffed. “And who you callin’ Pomeranian?! You fuckin’ dumbass!” You smiled at him in reply as you btoh made your way to the training areas in UA.

“Can I play some music?” He grumbles as you take it as a sign of agreement. You smile brightly, playing your favorite music. You were experimenting if you had to be the one to make the sound of if you could use sound from other sources. You had always assumed that you had you make the sound yourself.

And so the training started. Within seconds, the sound of explosions and yells ringed in the room. Neither of you went easy on each other. It almost felt like a match in the UA Sports Festival. You and Bakugou never went against each other during it due to the fact you lost when you went against Tokoyami. You couldn’t use anything to fight against Dark Shadow well enough.

As the fight between you and Bakugou continued, you had used your quirk with the loud beat of the music. So, I can use my quirk with music! You had thought. Soon the fight ended with Bakugou winning, much to your disappointment. “I almost got you there!” You said as Bakugou sees the determined glint in your eyes, ready to go against him once again. 

He chuckled, moving his hand on the top of your head and started to ruffle your hair which earned your surprise. It wasn’t until he playfully shoved you, yelling at you, “Come on! You weren’t even close, dumbass!” You swore you saw pink on his face, maybe it was from the heat in the room (from the fight) but you weren’t sure…

Sing song when I'm walking home

Jump up to the top, LeBron

It was a day off in the dorms. You had been in your room all day pretty much. This was usually normal behavior as you played video games in your free time when you weren't studying or gaming. But more often than not, you forgot that you had to care of yourself during off days. Kirishima had went out with the rest of the Bakusquad, leaving you and Bakugou in the dorms with whoever else was there.

You were ending a comp game with some friends who you often six-stacked with. “Yeah, I’ll see you guys later.” They left the group, leaving you to play a few quick play games. You were still in queue until loud knocks echoed in your room, effectively shocking you. “Who is it?” You asked, after getting over your shock.

“Open up idiot!” Bakugou said. You feel like if he bashed any harder on your door, it might just break. You stop the queue and open the door, revealing the blonde male. “How long have you been in your room? You look like shit.”

“Well...how honest do I have to be to answer your question?” The answer you gave him was enough as he soon put you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “W-what are you doing?!” 

Ding-dong, call me on my phone

Ice tea and a game of ping pong

“You haven’t eaten have you?”

“W-well, do small snacks count?”

“No, you fucking idiot.” He took you to the kitchen, putting you down onto a seat as you huffed at him, “Actually fucking eat a meal!”

“Aw, you care about me!”

“W-what? SHUT UP DUMBASS! IF YOU WANNA BEAT ME, DO IT WHEN YOU’RE AT YOUR BEST!” You nodded, laughing a bit at his reaction. He had made some curry with rice, handing a plate over to you while he grumbled about you not eating all day and staying in your room.

“I’ll still beat you! No matter what!” You smiled before you ate. You had realized that this was one of the few times that Bakugou did this on the weekends. “But still, thanks for worrying about me!”

“Shut up! I wasn’t worrying!” His face was red. You wondered if it was from the anger or something else.

This is getting heavy, can you hear the bass boom? I'm ready (Woo-hoo)

Life is sweet as honey, yeah, this beat cha-ching like money, huh

You were at the mall with the Bakusquad (Bakugou included of course). You and Mina were gossiping and talking most of the time. You had suggested to go to the arcade but Mina insisted on dressing you up in some cute clothes before you did. But maybe Mina just wanted to buy clothes for herself as well. You didn’t mind catering to your best friend for a while. 

The boys of the squad didn’t go off too far from you and Mina as they decided to go into a video game store for a bit while you and Mina indulged yourself in the cute clothes.

“You’ll look great in it, y/n! Trust me!” Mina encouraged. You smiled nervously at the female before moving into the changing rooms to change. Unknown to you, a certain blonde had been glancing over at you from the video game store window.

“It’s pretty cute!” You stepped out and Bakugou almost choked on air. The waistband of the skirt hugged your waist comfortably as the black graphic tee was loosely tucked in. Now if you were someone else, Bakugou probably would’ve called you some dumb shit like a basic e-girl or something like that. But you pulled it off. 

“You need to buy it!” Now, Bakugou couldn’t hear you from how far the stores were. Mina took this chance. “I think Bakugou likes it.” Mina glanced over to the video game store, tilting her head to gesture you to look at Bakugou. You glanced over for a second, locking eyes with the male as you feel your face heat up.

Disco overload, I'm into that, I'm good to go

I'm diamond, you know I glow up

Hey, so let's go

You did buy the outfit. And you made your way to the boys. You couldn’t muster up too much courage, suddenly hyper aware about the blonde’s actions. You all eventually arrived at the arcade, your hyper awareness wiped away as you saw the DDR machines.

“Hey Mina! Let’s go! You think you could beat me this time?” You joked as you accidentally bumped shoulders with Bakugou, trying to call out to Mina. Mina was too busy with Kiri and Sero, making you pout. “Damn, meanie. Hey Bakugou?” You dragged out his name, earning a huff from him.

 “I don’t dance.”

“Well, it’s not really dancing! Are you scared that I’m gonna beat you?” You can feel his competitiveness flare up at the question.

“No way in hell am I scared!” He grabbed your wrist, dragging you to one of the DDR machines. “I’ll beat you, dumbass!” You laughed as you let him drag you. 

“Okay!” You stood on the colorful arrows as you picked a song. “I’ll win against you, Bakugou! This is my main game!” You said, fully confident in your skills. He ‘tched’ before the song started. As the song went on, Bakugou seemed to care less about winning and more about the bright smile on your face.

'Cause I, I, I'm in the stars tonight

So watch me bring the fire and set the night alight (Hey)

Shining through the city with a little funk and soul

So I'ma light it up like dynamite, woah-oh-oh

You weren’t one to have bad days but today just really seemed like a bad day. Hero training was more draining than usual, one of your friends from general studies seemed to be avoiding you for some reason, and you got in trouble with Aizawa today. Nothing could be worse. It was a stressful day and you weren’t happy at all.

The whole Bakusquad seemed to notice this. “Hey Bakugou, you should go talk to y/n!” Kiri suggested as the squad watched you do house work as per the punishment Aizawa had granted you with.

Bring a friend, join the crowd

Whoever wanna come along

“Why me?!”

“Well, you and y/n seem really close. Plus I’m scared that they might just snap at me. They’ve been having a bad day lately. Maybe you could help them out.”

“Aren’t you guys their friends?!”

“Just go do it, bro!” Kiri encouraged, pushing the blonde towards you. 

Bakugou went up to you. “Hey, dumbass, let’s, uh, talk after you’re done with cleaning. Meet me at my room, idiot.” He spat out at you. He seemed oddly nervous. He hated that feeling. How you made him feel like that like it was nothing. You looked at Bakugou, confused for a moment before nodding.

You arrived at the door to his room, knocking softly on it. “What did you wanna talk about, Bakugou?” Before you could react, you were pulled into his room and right into his arms. Your face was forced to rest on his shoulder as you can feel his warmth radiating on you.

Word up, talk the talk

Just move like we Off The Wall

“Y-you looked fuckin’ stressed today. You don’t need to tell me what’s wrong. You can let it out.” There was just something about his words that started to make you cry. You could feel your stress leave you as Bakugou stays silent, comforting you without words. After you finished crying, he starts to speak again, “I’m not good with words, you know this, but I’m, uh, here for you. But don’t get any ideas, dumbass!”

You looked up at him, seeing pink dusted on his face. You start to giggle. “Why are you laughing, idiot!?” He asked as you start to laugh more, your Quirk accidentally activating as it make little sparks in the air. 

“You’re-you’re just really cute!” You said honestly with that bright smile of yours. Bakugou can feel blood rush up to his cheeks.

“I’M NOT CUTE!” The blonde growled, making you laugh more. Eventually, he got over his anger. “Don’t call me cute!” But he was glad that you were happier now after you finished crying. He didn’t know if it was the sparks from your Quirk or the light from his room but you seemed to shine brighter than the sun when you smiled.

Day or night the sky's alight

So we dance to the break of dawn

You fumbled with your outfit as Mina continued to do your makeup. It was a special night. Prom night. You, of course, were going with the Bakusquad. You sort of wished Bakugou asked you out but he would never really do something like that. 

“Are you sure I look good?” You asked Mina.

“You look great! I’m sure Bakugou will like it!” She teased, sending a red flush to your cheeks. You stood up, dusting yourself off. “Ahh! You look so amazing! All the boys and girls will want ya!” You laughed at Mina’s words, tucking some of your hair back. 

You and Mina soon gathered with the others in the living room. Once you entered the room, Bakugou was pretty sure he lost his breath at the sight of you. You were so damn beautiful.

Ladies and gentlemen, I got the medicine

So you should keep ya eyes on the ball, huh

This is getting heavy

Can you hear the bass boom? I'm ready (woo hoo)

“Hey guys! You ready?” You asked, walking over to the squad with Mina having an arm wrapped around your own. You looked at Bakugou and how shocked he was, you simply smiled as you looked up at the male. He can feel blood rush to his face, soon turning away to cover his face.

You all chatted for a while until you arrived at UA. They had (conveniently) set up a ballroom like room for all the 3rd year students. It was pretty loud and crowded. It felt a fairy tale if you were being honest. It was such a magical feeling though. You loved it.

Though you didn’t join Mina and the others on the floor to dance, you were perfectly content with seeing everyone enjoy themselves as you stood on the sidelines.

“So, why are you with the damn idiots dancing?” Bakugou’s voice pierces right through your thoughts.

“I like to see them enjoy themselves. Plus I can’t dance unless I’m playing DDR.” You joked with a small smile as you sipped on your drink.

“You think they care if you’re good at dancing, look at Pikachu and his dumbass.” Bakugou slightly gestured to said male who was terribly dancing, making you laugh a bit. 

“Well, why aren’t you dancing?”

Because I wanted to just look at you.. is what he wanted to say but didn’t. “You think I dance?”

“Maybe your mom taught you a thing or two.” You teased slightly. “I would pay to see you dance.” 

Life is sweet as honey

Yeah, this beat cha-ching like money

“Then dance with me.” You looked at him, your e/c eyes glinted with surprise. “Pay to see me dance by dancing with me.” It felt everything slowed down for a moment and slowly faded. It felt like it was just you and Bakugou. Your heart is beating loudly with the music as Bakugou offers you his hand. “Come on idiot, I’m not gonna wait forever.” You can see the smirk on his face but it’s so teasing and his crimson eyes are glinted with confidence and playfulness.

Disco overload, I'm into that, I'm good to go

I'm diamond, you know I glow up

You take his hand. He leads you onto the dance floor, the rest of squad cheering you guys on. It takes you a bit but you start to get into it as much as Bakugou does. Everyone in your class and the other 3rd year classes are joining you but it only feels like it’s just you and Bakugou. 

Both of you seem to be in sync with each other and it’s like the song playing was only made for you two. 

Let's go

'Cause I-I-I'm in the stars tonight

So watch me bring the fire and set the night alight (hey)

The song soon starts to end and your hands are intertwined with his as you’re only looking at each other. You can smell burnt caramel as he tugs you closer to his chest. It’s like everything stopped when you both stand there while the song is getting closer to the end. Before you both knew it, your lips are connecting with his.

Shining through the city with a little funk and soul

So I'ma light it up like dynamite!

[symphonicmetal101]

Okay so I really want one of these crack match ups for obey me just to see how messed up I actually am

For starters, my friends all think I’m absolutely unhinged. I bring up random animal/biology facts in conversation (crocodiles store their babies inside their mouth for traveling purposes!!) and eat frozen french fries straight out of the bag. I’m insanely clumsy (almost broke my knee falling down the stairs type of clumsy). I’m also kinda the type of person people don’t really talk to because I look super unapproachable and use a lot of sarcasm? I don’t get along with a lot of people but I have a few close friends I’d literally get into a full-on fistfight for and they’d do the same for me!! Otters are objectively the best animal because they scream a lot, have grabby hands and arm pit pockets for storage for their favorite stone to open clams with. I have a very weird relationship with the color pink because I didn’t want to be like „other girls“ when I was young. I was kind of a scene kid in school and I had a really bad Vampire Knight (train wreck of a manga/anime!!) phase where I drank a lot of cranberry juice and sat around at home with the blinds all the way down because I tried to convince myself I was a vampire. I stole a beyblade from my moms best friends kid once when I was like 10 and haven’t recovered from that. I just took it with me and kept it inside my bag for a week and then threw it out because I didn’t want to get caught?? Sometimes I act like I’m asleep just so people don’t try to talk to me tbh. I went over to a friends place a while ago for his birthday and went up to his room to change clothes and looked under his desk and I,,, just saw like, a random big ass Buzz Lightyear toy laying there,, shrouded in darkness…… and I couldn’t stop hysterically laughing to the point of crying and choking for 10 minutes straight. There’s a weird Christmas tradition where you hide a Christmas ornament that looks like a cucumber on your tree and whoever finds it gets to open up the first present. I randomly got a Christmas cucumber from my coworker and decided to put it up on my moms tree to see when she’d notice. But I left the packaging out in the living room and when she came home from work she started relentlessly questioning me about why I had a cucumber and where I hid it while she frantically looked for it all over the apartment („If I find that FUCKING cucumber on MY Christmas tree I’m gonna kill you“). I was laying on the ground in tears because I was laughing so hard. Also I really hated Lucifer when I started playing and I feel like I’d still give him ice cubes made of Hot Dog water if I ever had him over at my place just to mess with him. My ideal type of fictional guy is either a total uwu cinnamon roll that can do no wrong, a himbo, or most commonly: the most unhinged and messed up one I could pick out! Objectively worst possible choice ever because red flags are super hot apparently!!

Aight...ok...

Oh god

SOLOMON and THIRTEEN

I...I cant go through this ask and pick out individual things like Ive done with other ones?? Its just the overall vibes???

Ok I guess Ill start with Thirteen and Sol- I know she hates his guts but tHaTs kInDa SeXy tHoUgh

All three of you have chaotic stories to tell each other, and you likely all laugh halfway through trying to tell them. (Also Thirteen totally snorts when they laugh and you cant convince me otherwise)

Sarcasm and dark humour is a language you're all fluent in, and overhearing a conversation where its purely that is cause for many a demon to avoid you three in sheer confusion and uneasiness, but its ok because as long as you guys have each other youre set xjsjxbxjsj.

If Thirteen finds out you didnt like pink because you didnt want to "be like other girls" shes gonna get a little huffy "and you think I am???!!!" Before trying to convince you to match her hair. (If you dont agree, Solomon will cast a spell and will not reverse it til you bribe him because basically youre stuck with two little shits)

Gsjsvsjs sorry but the three of you just pretending to pass out as soon as you see Lucifer cracks me up. Just to make him mad. And because you can.

When it comes to committing "crimes" like stealing a beyblade Thirteen is a terrible liar and runs her mouth a lot because if she commits arson and whatnot its fun!!! Its something to brag about!!! Almost nobody was hurt or seriously maimed so its fine!!! Which means when you three are in trouble for something, Solomon IMMEDIATELY silences Thirteen. She will try to talk but it she physically cannot open her mouth. So guess what, she'll learn to speak with her mouth closed- so then you'll have to keep her quiet while Solomon covers for you three...except his normally cool demeanor does take a hit when his S/Os are trying ro distract him. Even if its not to get you three out of trouble, if hes talking to Lucifer to convince him to pact him and you and Thirteen are goofing off behind Luci, he's gonna get a little flustered trying to talk vdksvskhdj

The cucumber ornament tradition will spiral so be prepared for many phallic looking items to be hanging on your tree. And to never let Luke help decorate the tree. Sorry bby.

Ok, hopefully you liked this!!!

[redqueen-hypothesis]

private getaway ➳ victor li (mlqc)

➳ PAIRING: reader x victor li (mlqc)

➳ WORD COUNT: 3665

➳ GENRE: slightly suggestive, fluff

➳ SYNOPSIS: victor abducts you in the name of a holiday and is more nostalgic than you’d expect.

➳ REMARKS: tbh i feel like this was badly written, no smut but we all know victor li wouldn’t just let time alone together go by without doing the dirty. i hope the fluff is enough to make up for it, nonny!! i’m also sorry if you wanted a headcanon and i ended up writing a fic instead. i forgot i can’t write fluff akdjfsdk.

“Are we there yet?”

“No, but we’re almost there.”

That conversation has been repeated for hours now, ever since Victor whisked you away (more like abducted) you from the main entrance of your company building after a long working week and announced that the two of you would be going on a short holiday. Much to your shock, Anna had simply smiled politely at Victor as he bundled you into his car, wishing the two of you an enjoyable vacation and assuring you that your work would be taken care of. It was only later that you discovered that Anna had been roped into Victor’s schemes from the very beginning - the betrayal!

“You’ve said that for a while now.” You mumble, clutching onto Victor’s hand tightly as he leads you down a windy pier. You’re blindfolded with one of your silk scarves, Victor has been careful in ensuring that you haven’t been able to find out the slightest clue about where the two of you are headed. “Are you sure you’re not trying to kidnap me?”

A small snort. “How much money would I earn from doing that? Not enough to make the attempt worth it, I would say.” Victor’s voice is warm and deep, and when you strain your ears just a little, you can hear the sound of waves washing over a beach. Somewhere near the sea, perhaps?

“I’m priceless.” You answer indignantly, pulling at his hand and nearly stumbling when you trip over Victor’s feet. Wood creaks beneath your feet with each step. “I would be worth a lot of money.”

“But I’m the one who’d have to pay if you did get kidnapped.” Victor retorts, and you almost tell Victor he’s actually being romantic... almost. Before the words escape you, however, Victor is suddenly pulling the blindfold off your eyes. “We’re here now.”

When Victor had mentioned that he would be bringing you on a short holiday, you hadn’t expected this.

“Victor, this is... this is amazing!” You gasp, looking over at the view before you. The white sand of the beach runs into crystal clear water that stretches on as far as your eye can see. Connected directly to that strip of untouched beach is he open air villa that the two of you are currently standing in, watching the waves lap gently at the shore. “We’re going to be staying here?”

“No, we’re just passing through - of course we’re staying here, idiot.” Victor answers bluntly from where he’s inspecting the kitchen. It’s luxurious and fully stocked with fresh tropical ingredients, some of which are colorful fruits you’ve never seen before. You hope this means Victor is going to be the one cooking for you. “This place is a holiday beach resort.”

You can’t wait to change into some more comfortable clothes and go splashing in the sea. There’s a small jacuzzi pool carved from shining blue stone attached to the villa that you’re dying to try, but right now the blue of the ocean is much more enticing. It’s been so long since you’ve last seen the ocean for non work related reasons, you think. “This really is the perfect holiday location! And here I thought you didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘vacation’.”

“My vocabulary is sufficient, thank you very much.” Victor sounds mildly amused as he steps up next to you, one hand shading his eyes from the orange light of the sunset. “I take that you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” You laugh excitedly, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight. Victor lets himself smile at your enthusiasm, if only a little. “It’s a beautiful place, really! Why isn’t it more popular? I don’t see anyone around.”

He turns to look at you with an amused expression, as if the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. “This is a private resort, dummy. Of course there’s no one else here.”

“Private resort?” Just how much money had Victor spent on this so called small holiday? The sounds of dollar bills flying away echo repeatedly in the back of your mind and you almost feel dizzy just trying to imagine how much this must have cost. “Victor, call an ambulance.”

“There aren’t any roads here, dummy, we’re on an island that’s untouched except for this building and the staff quarters nearby. I thought you should have been able to see that.” Victor looks at you like you’re the silly one. “The resort uses private helicopters in case of emergencies. Why, are you feeling unwell?”

“I just might faint under the weight of all this extravagance.” You mumble, but wrap your arms around Victor’s torso and stand on tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. He shivers ever so slightly in your hold. “Thanks, Victor. I appreciate it.”

“You should.” Victor mutters, but there’s no real bite behind it. “Let’s go see the sunset down by the water. I heard it’s a good view.”

>>>

You’ve missed the feeling of having sand between your toes and splashing about in the shallow water near the shore. Swimming pools have nothing on mother nature, you decide, picking up a seashell and admiring its silvery shine.

“Don’t you think it looks like a small fish?” You ask, holding it up for Victor to inspect when he stops next to you, bare feet in the water. He peers at the shell in your hand, looking like a debtor trying to discern the validity of some assets.

“It looks like a shell.”

“You have no creativity. Some things don’t need to be expensive to be pretty.” You huff, pressing the seashell into his hand anyway. His fingers wrap around it, holding it tightly in his palm. He’s about to open his mouth to reply when you tug excitedly at his hand. “Victor, look! The sun is huge!”

Your eyes are wide with wonder as the setting sun touch the horizon. Liquid orange ripples across the water’s surface, setting the sea alight with flames and washing it in a warm glow, until you can’t tell where the sea meets the sky. The corners of his mouth pull up at your tangible happiness, he’d let you see a thousand sunsets more beautiful just to see you smile like this again. “The sun is always the same size, dummy.”

“Yeah, but it looks big now.” You retort, fishing out the camera that you’re wearing on a strap around your neck. “I need to take a picture and upload it on Moments. Gosh, Lucien would definitely love to see something like this.”

The expression Victor eyes you with almost makes you laugh. “The shady scientist?” If you didn’t know him better, you’d think he’s angry, but you know he’s just sulking. You giggle, a little amused at his obvious dislike for the other man, and decide to tease him just a little.

“Hey, don’t call my friend shady! He’s a very renowned neuroscientist and an important consultant for Miracle Finder.” You correct, taking a few snapshots of the sky before you. You’re no photographer, but you know enough from your experience in filming to take a good photo. “Ahh, the pictures look great. Victor, it’s your turn!”

“My turn? What for?” Victor looks mildly confused, but you tug him to the end of the walkway by the hand. There, the sunset glow washes over his face, the soft light diffusing the sharpness in his eyes, the usual cold set of his jaw. “There, just right! Now, smile!”

“Wha-”

Click!

“God, Victor, I said to smile, not look like I handed up a late report.” You laugh, peering at the bummed out expression that you’ve captured with your camera. Victor looks just a little flustered when you raise the camera to him again. “Come on, smile for real this time!”

“I don’t just smile for pictures.”

“But you look handsome when you do.” You tease, and see Victor’s face soften in response to your words. It’s not quite a smile, but it looks warm, almost happy. “Don’t say stupid things.”

Just before you can take the picture, however, there’s a loud flapping sound and you flinch back in surprise at the flurry of wings. When your eyes blink open, you’re greeted with a totally unexpected sight.

A seagull is perched on top of Victor’s head, squawking loudly. Meanwhile, Victor looks like he’s frozen himself in time with his own Evol, lips firmly pressed together in a thin line.

The seagull peers down at him. Victor looks up to meet its eyes. It squawks again and Victor winces.

“Wow, Victor, I didn’t know you brought me here just to introduce me to your mistress.” You can barely keep the giggles out of your voice. The glare that Victor shoots you is positively deadly. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not.” You say, but your voice shakes. “You know, I can see why it took such a liking to you. The two of you are very much alike.”

Victor looks bewildered. “What? How am I similar,” he gestures at the bird nesting on his head, “to this thing?”

You only pause for dramatic effect. “You’re both known for shitting on people.”

Victor groans in exasperation at your grin. “I do not shit on people.”

Unable to resist, you turn the camera to him, hands almost shaking uncontrollably with suppressed laughter. Victor’s expression goes flat when he realises what you’re intending to do. “Don’t you dare-”

Click!

“That’s it, get back here.” Victor brushes the seagull off his head and bears down on you, while you shriek with laughter and dash back down the beach as fast as you can. Try as you might, however, Victor’s strides are far wider than yours and in no time at all he’s caught up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and lifting you clean off your feet.

“Delete that.” He demands, trying to reach for your camera, but you hold it over your head with both hands, still giggling breathlessly. “No! Do you know how much the paparazzi would pay for a picture like this? I can imagine it on the front pages of the newspapers already, ‘Victor Li finds true soulmate at last’!”

“If they’re smart, they wouldn’t. The LFG has shares in majority of the news outlets in Loveland.” Victor retorts as you wave the camera about. “And so should you, since your company is funded by the LFG as well.”

“You’re too fair to drop us over something like this.” You laugh breathlessly at Victor, who simply sighs. “Don’t think that praising me now is going to get you a bonus. Hand over the camera now, before I make you.”

You arch an eyebrow, still giddy with adrenaline and excitement. You haven’t laughed this much in a long time. “Oh yeah? How are you going to do that?”

“How am I going to do that?” Victor repeats after you, voice suddenly dropping to a husky whisper. You swallow at the near predatory look that flashes in his eyes, hesitating for a moment. “Uhh, I mean you could just ask nicely, and if I were feeling generous, I might give it to-”

Before you can so much as finish your sentence, he’s pulling your head down to meet his lips in a hungry kiss. Your eyes fly wide open with shock before you melt against his mouth, camera long forgotten. His teeth tug at your bottom lip, urging his tongue into your mouth and fingers stroking at the bare skin along your ribs. Gasping at the searing heat of him, you try to break away for air, but Victor’s fingers only slide up the back of your head to press you more firmly against him, unrelenting.

All consuming.

It’s only when you beat against his chest with your fist that he releases you, your lungs heaving for air and mouth drunk on the taste of him. “Just like that,” Victor murmurs, his voice a raspy baritone as he plucks your camera out of your boneless hands. You can’t even find it in you to argue, all the fight sapped out of you. “I’ve missed doing that.”

“What are you-” You gasp as Victor lowers the two of you to the ground. Your back is pressed against the sand of the beach, waves lapping at your feet, but before you can say another word Victor’s mouth is back on yours again, hot and wet and desperate, like he can’t wait another second to taste you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, drawing him as close as you physically can, the hard planes of his body pressed against yours through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Mmn...” You breathe against his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, grinding subtly against the hardness in his shorts. Victor lets out a low sound at that, eyes filled with an emotion that you can only describe as hunger as he hovers over you. Just as he tilts his head down to press kisses down your neck, however, you’re interrupted by a strange grumbling sound.

The two of you still at the sudden noise, and your cheeks burst into flames.

“Pft...” You look up to see Victor trying to stifle his own laughter and scowl, slapping both your hands over his mouth. “Hey! Stop laughing!”

“Let’s head in for some food. I have some new recipes I want to try.” Victor is still wearing a smile and damn, because you won’t even get enough of that expression on him. It softens his face, brings out a gentle light to his eyes that is far too rarely seen, and makes your heart stumble in your chest. Still blushing, you grab his hand and pull him towards the villa so he won’t see the colour on your cheeks.

“Hurry up then, I’m hungry.”

He laughs, a clear, boyish sound that doesn’t suit his business persona at all. “I could tell.”

“Oh, shut it!”

>>>

Dinner is a lavish affair of delectable fruits and local spices that you’ve never tasted before. Victor does something along the lines of a hibachi restaurant, cooking right in front of you and serving the food fresh from the pan. It’s clear he’s been practicing in secret, there’s no hesitation to his movements even with all these foreign ingredients. Your heart warms at the knowledge but keep your mouth shut about it, knowing Victor would be embarrassed if you were to call him out on it.

Gods, you love this man so much.

As the sky falls dark, you sit at the kitchen island in the dim candlelight, washing down your dinner with a tropical fruit juice mix that Victor had blended for you while scrolling through a list of activities available to you here on your phone.

“You decide.” Victor had shrugged simply when you’d asked him about your itinerary. You couldn’t be more excited.

“We could go snorkeling tomorrow, oh, or fishing!” You tell Victor brightly as he washes the dishes at the sink. Hopefully in one of these options, he’ll just have to go shirtless, you hum to yourself contentedly. Best vacation ever. He turns around to raise an eyebrow at you, looking dubious. “I doubt you have enough patience to hold a fishing rod for a few hours.”

“I do too.” You pout, setting down your phone to watch him work. The simple white button down he’s wearing only accentuates the strong lines of his back and the broad shoulders he has. “And besides, it won’t take that long for the fish to bite unless you scare them all away with that glare of yours.”

“Maybe if we throw you in as bait we’d be more successful and catch a big white shark.” Victor flicks you on the nose and you whine, rubbing it ruefully as he keeps the pans on the shelves. “Fine... I’ll think about what to do when tomorrow comes. What do you want to do right now, though?”

Victor ponders this for a moment, leaning against the kitchen island next to you. “Hmm... you brought your bathing suit, am I right?”

“I didn’t know we were going to the beach, wait... this is why you were asking for my measurements awhile back, weren’t you?”

He shrugs, although there’s a playful glint in his eye. “You don’t have any evidence. Either way, there should be a bathing suit in your luggage. Put it on and we can go down to the jacuzzi. Or if you want,” the look in his eyes darken ever so slightly as he looks down at you, tracing your body, “you could always go naked. There’s no one to see... but me.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” You beat a hasty escape for the bathroom before your face can spontaneously combust. “You better not have bought something weird for me!”

As you disappear into the bathroom, Victor lets out a low laugh, running a hand over his face. “Ahh... that silly girl.”

There’s a fond smile on his face.

>>>

You sink into the water with a contented moan. “Ahhh, this feels good.” When you look above, head tilting back to look at the night sky above. The stars twinkle back at you, like handfuls of diamonds scattered across the heavens above. “This has been a great start to my holiday.”

“It takes very little to make you happy.” Victor observes as he steps into the water next to you. He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of black shorts, strong arms and well honed physique exposed for you to appreciate. You grin, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I think I’ve already been given plenty. Thank you for this holiday, Victor.”

“It was nothing, really.” Victor replies, his voice a low rumble in his chest next to you. When you glance up at him, he’s looking at the stars overhead, seemingly lost in thought. “I don’t really enjoy holidays much, except when I visit France, but today with you... wasn’t so bad.”

Victor must be in a nostalgic mood, you think, enjoying the warmth of his body next to yours. The holiday brings that out in him, the fact that there are no paparazzi around and there is no LFG to worry about. You like having him all to yourself.

“Just admit that you like my company.” You laugh, resting your head against his shoulder. The water is pleasantly warm and scented with rose petals, something that you’ve come to realise is his signature touch during your time together. As unromantic as Victor’s mouth is when it isn’t on your body, the rest of him is surprisingly adept and careful when it comes to setting a romantic mood, sparing no expense when it comes to bouquets, scented candles, silk sheets. It’s something that you would never have quite expected from him, and yet it’s part of what makes him so lovably humane.

“Well, I think the fact that I married you says quite enough about that.” Victor snorts. You feel him run a thumb over the wedding band on your ring finger and you grin, lifting it out of the water so that he can see it. “I’m so glad I didn’t swallow it together with your proposal souffle. I might have backed out of marrying you if I had more time to think about it.”

“You must have been in shock when you agreed.” He looks at your joined hands, and suddenly lifts it to his mouth to kiss away the water droplets clinging onto the back of yours possessively. The two of you are already married, and yet it still sends heat burning at your cheeks. “You’re stuck with me now, though. You can’t just break a marriage contract.”

“You mean a wedding vow. You were so handsome on that day I must have forgotten my plan about running away from the altar.” You giggle, and Victor’s eyes soften, scooping up a flower from the water’s surface - a peony, and tucks it behind your ear. “I would have chased after you even if you did.” His eyes sweep over you, painfully tender. “There. Beautiful.”

It’s only then that you realise how close the two of you are, his breath dancing along your cheeks and nose, his cheeks flushed from the warmth of the jacuzzi. He looks so open in that moment, his usual stoic walls down for you to enter and so you do, cupping his face and pulling him in for a kiss.

Victor’s a possessive lover, always has been, and the way he takes your lips for his own is no different. He doesn’t just claim them, he ruins them, tasting your mouth like you’re one of his sweetest deserts, tongue probing every corner and crevice of your mouth so that you know that you belong to him. You sink into his embrace, water swishing around you, and Victor groans, lightly nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“I’m the most fortunate man in the world to have met you.” He says, hoisting you into his lap. In the pool, it takes almost no effort at all, and you’re left straddling his rock hard thighs, bracing your palms on his firm chest. His gaze lands on your bruised, swollen lips, running the pad of his thumb over it gently. “Beautiful.”

“Stop saying cheesy stuff and make love to me.” You laugh, grinding down teasingly on the hardness you can feel against your thigh and your grin widens when Victor lets out a hiss. He pinches your ass in retaliation and you squeal. “Here I was trying to set the mood and you went and ruined it. You had better be prepared for what you’re getting into.”

When he kisses you under the heavens once more, so fiercely it steals your breath away, one last thought crosses your mind before he takes even that away from you: that everything to do with him, you regret none of it at all.