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tonystarchive · 1 year

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IRONDAD & SPIDER-SON WHUMP MASTERLIST—PART 1

Last Updated: September 2023

As promised, here is my long overdue Irondad Whump Masterlist! This list took an embarrassing amount of time to compile and over forty pages in my Google Docs (!!!!!).

Due to the sheer amount of fics, I will be posting in parts. Within these posts, each fic will categorized by its most prevalent trope/theme.

I hope the work from these talented contributors brings as much whumpy joy to you as they do to me!

Also, a very special shoutout to my most treasured Irondad authors iron_spider, for_the_night, madasthesea, losingmymindtonight, AdVitemAeternum, MotherKarizma, and so many more! This post is dedicated to you. ♡

Adoption/Tony Stark is Peter Parker’s Biological Father

5 Times Tony Acted Like Peter’s Dad by for_the_night

Summary: “And the one time he actually was." *Featuring an award evening, nightmares, a father-son field trip, appendicitis, and a very special gift—oh, and SO many forehead kisses.*

Alive and Healing by Watermeloness

Summary: “‘...bank robbery gone wrong in Queens. We’re receiving live footage from the crime site, where a 15-year-old teenager has been severely injured. Witnesses report a young boy getting shot after trying to stop the perpetrators. The last we’ve heard, his state is critical and he’s being rushed to…’ Statistically, there are a lot of 15-year-old teenagers in Queens. The city is filled with 15-year-old teenagers that are all brave in their own ways. This doesn’t have to be their teenager. But Peter is not picking up his phone.”

Dad Is Just A Word (You Give It Meaning) by madasthesea

Summary: “Father's Day, two years after May dies. Peter has something special to give and something important to say.”

For Want of a Dad (In Need of a Son) by GhostInTheBAU

Summary: “So, have you given the camping trip any more thought?’ Ned asks, and he groans internally at the change in subject. He'd much rather go back to talking about his non-existent love life, thanks. The trip is during spring break—a four-day long trek out into the wilderness, camping and hiking and gathering who even knows what, learning all about nature and the great outdoors. But the real kicker? It's an event specifically designed for fathers and their sons, which is something Peter doesn't have, and something he will never be. Not again." Or: Peter longs to have a deeper relationship with his mentor, a more meaningful connection; but he's managed to convince himself that the only reason Tony Stark spends any time with him at all is purely because of his enhancement. Because of Spider-Man.

Homebound by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “Shortly after Homecoming, Peter starts having panic attacks. Tony happens to have some experience with those. What do you do when everyone around you has a tendency to die? What do you do when the last person, the most precious, the one you absolutely cannot lose, maybe wants you? Do you give in, or do you run? Do you take what they offer, or do you keep them as far away from the disaster that is your life as you can?”

I Love You More Than Anything Series by iron_spider

Summary: “The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31—from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos”

I’ll Always Protect You (Even If You Don’t Want Me To) by JAWorley

Summary: “So much changed with Peter’s body chemistry after the bite that new things are still coming up that surprise him. One day he and Tony are having a fight and Peter is so stressed out he ends up having a seizure. Seizures… great, so that’s a thing now, and Tony has decided that the best thing is for Peter to stop being Spider-Man. The more the seizures happen, the more protective Tony becomes. All Peter wants is to have his life back." Or: May asks Tony to take joint custody of Peter to help with the Spider-Man thing and this new stress seizure issue. Peter learns that sometimes parents do what’s necessary even if it’s not a popular choice with their kids.

Questions of Science, Science and Progress (Do Not Speak As Loud As My Heart) by l_u_c_k_y_c_l_o_v_e_r

Summary: “I had to find you, tell you I need you. Tell you I set you apart." Or: Peter stays with Tony for a few weeks, and the pair get into all kinds of shenanigans. And maybe, just maybe, those few weeks will usher in something more.

These Days I’ll Sit On Cornerstones by Finny3120

Summary: “Tony was ill-prepared to find that the vigilante he'd recruited was a 14-year-old boy. He was even less prepared for Peter Parker to be mute. But Peter hasn't spoken since his uncle died. And the more Tony works with the teen, the less it matters to him. He hears Peter just fine.”

You’re Stuck With Me by for_the_night

Summary: “I’m adopting you. I don’t care what you have to say.’ Peter gaped. Of all of the entrances he’d expected from Mister Stark after being alone in a hospital room for hours, that wasn’t one of them." Or: Peter gets taken to hospital with a ruptured appendix and Tony comes to a daunting realization of just how little hold he has on the kid outside of Medbay.

Alternate Universe

My Baby, My Baby by SpaceCowboysFromMars

Summary: “Silence falls over them like a warm blanket. Distantly, there’s commotion down on the street as people walk home from clubs. Peter thinks Tony might be his best friend in the whole world. After a long, peaceful moment, Tony says, voice dripping with warmth, ‘Night, kid.’ ‘Goodnight, Mr. Stark." Or: Tony and Peter in the middle of the night, in five alternate universes.

Visiting Hours by Sara (ctrsara)

Summary: “Boss?’ Tony jolted out of his half-asleep state. ‘What’s up, FRI?’ ‘There is a visitor here to see you.’ Tony jumped up. Anyone he knew would usually call or text first, so he was immediately on alert. ‘Who is it, FRI?’ ‘I need you to have an open mind, and know that I do not believe this person is any threat.’ Oh, yeah, that made him feel better. ‘Excuse me? How about you let me decide that, Watson?’ He started walking towards the door, activating his watch gauntlet. ‘Wait, Boss.’ He was annoyed, but he trusted his AI enough to stop and listen. ‘I also need you to know that I have performed biometric scanning, and this person is who they appear to be. However, they insist they’re not from our universe, and that is the part I don’t understand." — In a universe where he never invented time travel, and never brought anyone back, Tony Stark gets a late-night visitor he never could have expected. Prompt taken from @idk-bruh-20 Irondad fic idea #97 on Tumblr. Idea from @derpmallow.

What The Heart Knows by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “When Peter wakes up, his head is being assaulted by a sledgehammer. He has no idea where he is. He has no idea what happened to him. He has no idea who he is, other than ‘Peter.’ But then, he looks over at the man who is scrutinizing him with worried eyes, and he knows who the man is. That's his dad." Or: The one where Peter gets hit over the head really, really hard and has temporary amnesia, and makes a very reasonable assumption based on the data presented to him.

Angst

A Far Green Country by madasthesea

Summary: “He just wanted Peter to be happy. More than anything in the world, he wanted Peter to be happy. Oh, Tony thought as that realization sunk down into the pit of his stomach and took root. I love him.”

A River To Skate Away On by frostysunflowers

Summary: “Peter has survived a spider bite, a building falling on him, turning to dust and being a teenager. He can handle anything. Except being forgotten.”

Agape by canon irondad (tomlinsoul)

Summary: “It's Tony's first date night with Pepper since the Snap, and Peter can't wait to spend some quality time with his little sister. Too bad a pair of hapless intruders, head trauma, and a panicked helicopter ride throw a spanner in the works." Whumptober 2022 Day 8: Head Trauma + Day 7: Seizures + Day 19: Repeatedly Passing Out + BTHB: Big Brother Instinct

Broken Heart Syndrome by iron_spider

Summary: “Tony is clearly really upset, the kind of upset that Peter’s only seen the likes of a couple of times, and it’s too close after everything happening to really talk about it. He can definitely see that now. ‘I’m sorry,’ Peter says. ‘I’m sorry, I should have answered—’ ‘Yeah, you should have answered!’ Tony yells. His bottom lip is trembling and he shakes his head, his eyes wild. He runs his hand over his forehead. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll know for next time,’ Peter says. He doesn’t know what’s gonna make this better. Probably nothing. ‘There better not be a next time,’ Tony says, dropping his hand from his face. ‘God, like this? Pete, no one knew where he was but you, and you—you kept it that way so nobody knew what the hell was happening, and you—you weren’t answering, kid, and that asshole sent me all that shit plucked directly from my nightmares, and I was trying to be strong for May because she was worried, too, and you—and you, I—I thought I wasn’t gonna ever—I thought—Jesus, Peter, you don’t think, you don’t—’ Tony bends over, clutching at his arm and breathing hard through his mouth.”

Dead In There, You’re Dead In There by iron_spider

Summary: “Peter, you’ve been acting insane for the past however many days and it’s giving me an ulcer, what’s going on, what did I do? Tell me. Tell me and I’ll fix it.’ Peter is still stalking around, and Friday is listing off his injuries, from a concussion to broken ribs to a sprained ankle, and Tony feels sick looking at it all. ‘You’ll fix it,’ Peter says, glancing over at him with pure disdain, the look bookended by matching explosions somewhere behind them. ‘Yeah it’s something you can’t fix, if it happens, nope, can’t fix it, it would just—but you’re just saying—’ Tony starts forward towards him. ‘Pete, explain to me what’s happening, please.’ ‘The protocol, the protocol,’ Peter insists, waving his hands through the air. Tony shakes his head. ‘The protocol?’ ‘The Avalon Protocol, Tony,’ Peter spits out, with venom.”

Dead-Eyed by iron_spider

Summary: “Hey,’ Tony says, fast, into the phone. ‘Everything alr—’ ‘Hey, no, I don’t know where he is,’ MJ says, in a rush of breath. ‘I don’t know where he is, Tony, and I know I have access to that tracking thing, but it feels weird for me to do that, and it doesn’t feel weird for you to do that, so you should do that. And find him and tell me what’s going on.’ ‘Okay, calm down,’ Tony says, getting up and stepping back from his workstation. ‘You know you can’t tell me to calm down, because I’m calm, and I’m always calmer than you because you’re like, inherently, not calm. At all, about anything, but especially about your family—’ ‘Okay, this is not calm,’ Tony says, starting to pace, even though he’s not calm either, she’s right. She sighs loudly in his ear. ‘When was the last time you saw him?”

Earthly Dust From Off Thee Shaken by ExpectoPatronum

Summary: “It had started with leaving his bedroom light on at night before he went to sleep. For a while, that had been enough. But then it wasn't.”

“Forever” by WithACherryOnTop

Summary: “Peter could feel the darkness creeping up on him again, like it had only moments earlier in the Avengers Compound bullpen. ‘‘ony.’ ‘Just go to sleep, bud.’ Tony gently scratched his nails at the nape of Peter’s neck. Peter collapsed bonelessly in Tony’s arms, all evidence of the tears, crying, and sobs hidden except for a stained shirt and the boy’s even, congested breaths. Tony wiped a hand over his face, a bit flustered. ‘Wow. That went way worse than I expected." Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel and/or Sony. I do not give permission for this work to be copied and/or posted to any other sites.

Gonna Pick Up The Pieces by orphan_account

Summary: “I don’t want to talk to you,’ Peter says. He’s been hiding for the better part of an hour, sitting in the cabin’s laundry room, wedged between the washer and the dryer. Something about the sounds coming off of them calms him, weirdly. The swish of water, the rumble of the motors, cotton rubbing cotton, the button on a pair of jeans dinging the side of the barrel. ‘That’s bullshit,’ Tony says. ‘You always want to talk to me.’ As true as that usually is, this time it rings discordant and tense. Peter clenches his jaw. ‘Not really,’ he says. ‘You just sorta assume that.’ ‘Of course I do. I make for lovely conversation.’ ‘Eh.”

Head’s On The Fritz by augustheart

Summary: "Hello?’ ‘Tony?’ ‘The one and only. What’s up, kiddo?’ The answer rises up in Peter's throat. Stops at the back of his tongue and wobbles there, heavy and leaden. He wants to spit it out, to cough it into the unbearable silence, to not be loud—but, to be steady. ‘I—’ he says. He trembles. ‘Can you—come over? Please?" Or: Tony makes things better

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter still doesn’t feel quite solid. Sometimes Tony can’t believe he’s really there either. They cope.”

I Have You by sweetspiderstew

Summary: “Tony has Peter all to himself, and there's nothing else like some good quality time in the workshop, but little mishaps happen, and there's a lot of hugging.”

I’ll Be Right Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter has a nightmare, and Tony goes to be sure he’s okay. It’s not the first one of its kind.”

It Came At Night by Marvelous_Writer

Summary: “What’s supposed to be a normal weekend visit to the Compound turns into one of disaster when unexpected visitors show up." (Set after Spider-Man: Homecoming) Whumptober Day Five: Gunpoint

It’s Time to Leave (and Turn to Dust) by hopeless_hope

Summary: "We’re going to help you, I promise, but you’ve got to trust me. Do you trust me?’ Peter looks at his mentor, fear written across his face. He raises a shaking hand back to Tony’s chest, and Tony places his hand over the kid’s. Peter closes his eyes and feels the hard surface of the arc reactor against his palm. Peter doesn’t like soft things, but this isn’t soft. It’s solid and steady and strong and feels like a truth he can believe in. It feels like presence. ‘Yeah, I trust you." (In which Peter has trouble coping with the events of Infinity War, but a certain Tony Stark is there to help.)

Meltdown by inkinmyheartandonthepage

Summary: “You said two-thirty,’ Peter said, acting as if he hadn’t heard Tony. ‘I forgot that you changed it to two thirty and not three.’ Tony took a step towards Peter. ‘Hey, Pete. It’s fine. You’re not that late kiddo. Hell, I’ve been to board meetings hours late.’ The joke didn’t land, and Peter’s eyes started to well with tears. He took in a hiccupping breath. ‘Oh god. I forgot. I forgot." Or: Peter isn't coping after Titan and has been doing everything to keep busy and not think about it. Everything comes to head when he forgets that a time was changed in his busy schedule leading to a meltdown.

Mine, And Yours by crowkag

Summary: “Is it Peter?’ He was met with loaded silence. The anxiety spark became an anxiety plunge and twist. ‘Happy. Is it Peter?’ ‘It’s… well. Who else would it be, right?’ ‘Hogan.’ He hated this. The spark, the plunge, the twist. The tension creeping from his shoulder blades, clawing down arms both flesh and metal, somehow, someway, and bunching up inside his palms. The hysteria of it all. ‘It’s—alright, I won’t sugarcoat it. The kid’s alive, but he got shot, Tony. Twice." Or: Tony reunites with Peter in a less-than-ideal manner.

Relax, Just Breathe by hailfire_73

Summary: “Tony,’ said Peter, lifting his head from the glass, his stubbornness spent. ‘I don’t feel so—’ ‘Do not,’ said Tony, through gritted teeth, and meeting Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He had just one hand on the steering wheel as he drove them into the night. ‘Finish that sentence.’ Morgan leaned over, hung out of her booster seat, and whispered, ‘It gives dad attacks." Or: The Starks go on a road trip that goes wrong when Peter gets food poisoning from questionable carnival food.

Scars Can Heal And Reveal Just Where You Are by parkrstark

Summary: “Jesus Christ, Pete,’ the voice says again, and it's not just a voice. It's a voice that belongs to the shadow. The shadow is light in the dark. It's warm. ‘What are you doing on the floor? You're lucky you're by your bed or else it would have been you breaking my fall.’ Peter blinks at the shadow and can't tell if he's comforted or irritated by the new company. ‘What? No quip about me breaking a hip?’ There's silence. ‘Peter?"

Shots Ring Out by itsluckyyou

Summary: “Peter Parker had training. Training to deal with robbers, petty crime, and possible alien invasions. Nothing could have possibly trained him for this, though." Or: There's a shooter wandering the halls of Midtown School of Science and Technology.

The Pills (They Gotta Go) by searchingforstars

Summary: “Tony. What are these?’ Tony glances up. Sees the packs of pills clenched in Peter’s fist. He’s sure some of them must be dust judging by the force that Peter is holding them with. ‘My pills?’ ‘Why are they sitting at the back of the pantry?’ Peter asks, voice dangerously low." Or: Tony decides taking his medication is optional. Peter strongly disagrees.

We All Have A Hunger by MotherKarizma

Summary: “Morgan,’ he croaked, throat afire, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Hey—hey, it’s okay, I’m just…’ ‘You’re sick.’ She mustered up something like bravery, using it to straighten her back and plaster a very grown-up look on her face. ‘I’ll get Daddy!’ ‘No!’ Morgan jumped, eyes wide. Peter fought to calm his voice. He offered her a smile that couldn’t have been convincing, not even to a five-year-old. ‘No, you don’t have to. I feel better now. You don’t have to tell him.’ Morgan’s lips wobbled. Peter knew what her fake pout looked like well enough to know this wasn’t it. ‘Petey…’ Peter had a lot of reasons to feel guilty. He felt guilty for scaring her. He felt guilty for forgetting to lock his bedroom door, for making scaring her a possibility. He kind of, in a way, felt guilty for doing it in the first place, though not nearly enough to stop. But more than anything, he felt guilty for this: ‘Morgan, promise me you won’t tell him. He…he won’t let us swim anymore if you do. And I’m not sick, my tummy just hurt a little bit, but I’m all better now. Promise me you won’t tell him, okay?’ ‘But…’ ‘Morgan. Promise.”

We’re Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Comfortember prompt 3: Nightmares Peter has nightmares about when Thanos stabbed Tony on Titan”

Who Needs a Happy New Year When You Can Have a Happy Forever? by searchingforstars

Summary: “Peter's already feeling insecure about his place in Stark family holiday traditions, but it turns out it doesn't really matter because New Year’s Eve is significantly less fun when you’re a pair of PTSD-riddled superheroes, anyway." Or: Tony has a panic attack in a Burger King.

Without You (I Was Broken) by parkrstark

Summary: "How did you get shot? You just webbed me up 5 stories from being shot!’ ‘D-Didn’t know it was coming.’ ‘Dammit, Peter! This isn’t the first time your spidey sense hasn’t worked. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt because Rhodey told me I was being insane. Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t always working? You shouldn’t go out into battle like this when your powers are being wonky and—’ ‘You’re here.’ ‘What?’ ‘You’re here.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I don’t...I can’t really feel the danger when you’re around."

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wrdlbrmpfd · 4 days

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Finally managed to finish this ⬇️

PART ONE

Sometimes the stars align and wishes do come true. Let me tell you the story of me finally getting the chance to meet Jared and Jensen. Sorry it will be "a bit" long 😉

It was in April 2023 when my friend Neria (we found each other on Twitter through the German Doctor Who # and we're both huge SPN fans) and I talked on the phone (we've never met in person bc we're living 900 kilometers apart) about J2. We "pitied" ourselves that we'll never meet them in person bc we can't afford CE or JiB con. But then, a few days later, on Saturday April 22nd suddenly the announcement of Jensen being at PurCon 8 came on.

So I immidiately called Neria (they are a Jensen-leaning J2 stan) to tell them that I wanted to attend this con so bad. They agreed but they didn't know if they could afford it. Fortunately I had a small amount of savings and it would be enough for a ticket and a photo op. So I called my best friend Petra (she is an absolute Deangirl but not in the fandom) to ask her if she wants to go with me to the con. To my utter delight she was on board and I bought 2 single day tickets for Saturday May 25th 2024 (it was clear that my health wouldn't allow me to attend 2 days in a row, I knew the train travel alone would take its toll on me). My Twitter friend Conni insisted to gift me my entry ticket and I can't express how grateful I am to have such awesome friends. So shoutout to Conni and a big thank you ❤️. Shortly after Neria decided "fuck it" and bought also a Saturday ticket, so we could finally meet in person. And I would see Jensen Ackles and I started to count the months 😂 I tried to get a photo op but I wasn't lucky at the first two batches, finally with the release of the 3rd batch and help from Neria (they got lucky on the 1st round) I got an op with him too. YAY \○/

A while after that Jared was announced for Infinity con which took place 2 weeks before PurCon. I briefly contemplated to sell my ticket and op for PurCon to go to Infinity but I dismissed the idea because didn't want to abandon my friends and so I decided to stay on the PurCon route. I mean - one out of two was better than nothing, right? Who could've guessed that I would be rewarded for this?

And then, on February 19th 2024 the announcement that Jared was moved from Infinity con to PurCon! I freaked out! I couldn't believe my luck and I just screamed my joy into the world (yeah, my neighbours are used to that 😂🙈) And this time I got lucky at the first try and got an op with Jared too. From this moment on I was just a happy mess, I flew constantly and I started to count the days 😂 On April 15th 2024 Ent Events put the J2 VIP panel on sale and yes, you're right - I bought for Petra and me the tickets. There were only 5 weeks left and my anxiety began to skyrocket. Hotel, train ticket etc was booked too, now we dreaded the day for the con.

But somehow time flew and suddenly it was Friday May 24th and my travel began very early. I had to take an earlier train bc of course there was a construction site on our track and trains were delayed ~ 30 minutes and I needed to catch my ICE (high speed train) in Munich. So this is me waiting for my train to Munich at 7 a.m (and naturally I wore my Imperfect-akf-hoodie! 🥰)

I arrived in Munich central station where I met up with my bestie Petra. This is us in the ICE to Düsseldorf

During the whole journey we were in contact with Neria with them we would meet in Düsseldorf central station. Well, before that we collected delays on our way to Düsseldorf, I didn't expect any different 😂 But finally we arrived and I was able to hug Neria for the first time 🥰

And then the chaos began (yes, it ran all too smoothly, so somewhere along the way things had to go sideways). We needed the train to Düsseldorf airport. Yeah. We were on the right platform but they moved our train to another platform. So again the march to the lift and finally on the right platform the displays were a complete mess. Trains were delayed and the displays showed the wrong trains and so on. But we got into the right (and overcrowded) train and made it to Düsseldorf airport. From there we had to take a bus to our hotel (we weren't in the con hotel but a cheaper one 2 kilometers from the con hotel) and well....first we went into the wrong direction at the station because there were no signs for an exit or for the bus station but we've got that figured out. Then we "argued"about the choice which bus we'd take (Petra doesn't find her parked car even if she stands right in front of it and myself with no orientation sense at all) - my app showed a different bus line than Petra's. We decided to go with mine. And tadaaa - it was the wrong one. So we had to march 1,5 km to our hotel "and I will walk 500 miles..." it definately felt that way. I just wanted to lay down on the sidewalk bc I was in so much pain, my back fired constantly and even with my walker (on wheels) I had to pause every 200 meters or so. If I had listened to Petra and had taken the other bus we'd have had only 150 m to our hotel. After check-in we just fell onto the bed because we were exhausted. Us in our room.

We recovered a bit from our strenuous journey for a few hours before we made us on the way to the con hotel to the registry (open from 4 to 8 p.m). There we arrived without any mishap at about 6.30 p.m and holy fuck...the queue lasted all through the foyer and even further back. But we got lucky to have lovely company while waiting and the line moved forward (very) slowly. And I was so thankful for my baby Cordi (the name of my walker) because I could sit down on it. I wouldn't have lasted with standing all the time. There were a lot more people coming after us in the line and it was already after 8 p.m and some were worried that they would close the registration but I was confident that they wouldn't. They couldn't send away ~ 500 people bc that would have meant even more chaos on Saturday morning. And they continued to register all of us and we finally made it to the counter. It was about 9.30 p.m when we were finished and could finally grab something to eat. When we left the hotel we stumbled about her 🥰

After that little photo session we just went into the McDonalds at Terminal C and then took the skytrain back to the airport train station and we found out that the last bus to our hotel was at 8 p.m. So again we walked. 😩 and then fell into our beds.

Saturday morning I was awake at 6 a.m. I couldn't sleep any longer. THIS WAS THE DAY!

So we left early for the con hotel to attend the opening ceremony and to get a first glance at J2.

I can not describe how I felt, it was anxiety, excitement and anticipation.

First Mark Sheppard, Ty Olsson, DJ Qualls, Osric Chau and Sahin Satchel.

And then THEY WERE REALLY HERE! Jared and Jensen. 🥰 I saw them with my own eyes for the very first time. I have no idea how I was able to take the vid/pic (sorry for the bad quality, remember - last row and taken with my cellphone) bc I was so over the moon.

After the opening ceremony we had plenty of time till the VIP panel, so we visited the overstuffed vendor room. There I found a beautiful Dean Winchester art which I bought as a thank you for Conni (she watched SPN and is a Jensen girl but not a fan in general).

#supernatural #spn #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #j2 #sam winchester #dean winchester #purcon 8

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precious-little-scoundrel · 10 months

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Do you have any plans to write another dubious oneshot kind of like the honeymoon one? I read it the other day and I didn't even think I would like anything dubious but that one was so succulent and delectable, and now I find that I'm searching for something to give me that kind of high again, a dubious piece that has just the right amount of innocence, male manipulation, and vulnerability sprinkled on top, loved it, really loved it.

Plans? Oh honey….

I so would. I so will. I so am.

To put it in lay terms, that’s my jam, I’m afraid, dubious consent and entitlement in the right setting is a dynamic that tickles me like few things can and I have actually been longing to write some more of it and yet none of my current universes have the context for it. Unless you count Sarge and the Wedding Night (which you may enjoy and it is possible to read as a stand alone.) so, that must be remedied.

Which leads me to…what I have in mind.

Context is entirely what makes this sexy to me. And for Elvis that context has to be very particular. Or else I just don’t find it in character and then I am jarred out of the story from the beginning. So allow me to dither away a little bit regarding motivation and plots, I love hearing your own opinions and perspectives on things like this, helping me craft more accurate stories, hopefully. Testimonial after testimonial, one anecdote and a thousand, there’s a common theme of this man not being pressuring in the slightest over and over again with his various conquests or flirtations. plenty of women have written about turning him down and the way he surprised them by not only being respectful of that but also lingering and enjoying their company despite knowing ‘he wouldn’t get anything from it’. While others, such as Linda to name the most prominent, talk about how his gentle and patient ways actually lead them to being ready for more.

So where does that put us when it comes to this delicious possibility of him acting entitled? In my mind I pretty much solely see it as being in a marriage, where his old-fashioned opinions would suggest he has a right to you and also where he would be operating from a consideration that you are not indeed totally unconsenting, but rather too flighty or stubborn to admit or enjoy what you want. Which is him right? Of course you want him, ha! Which leaves him with the need to make you enjoy it. Or to quote Honeymoon itself… “make this marriage work.” 😏

That’s a brief summary of motivations I require personally for myself to even begin to explore this, but how fun is that? I love fresh, new little brides of all types. You can have the sprightly and daring ones covering up their trepidations, the demure and naïve ones desperate to please, or the shocked and aghast little darlings who need a bit of firm cajoling and their marriage vows thrown at them when they resist. All these are scrumptious scenarios and I have endless ideas for them.

Currently in the works I have two, one more advanced than the next that I see featuring this dynamic. One is very similar to a honeymoon, it would not incorporate honeymoon but it would be almost the same vibes with a vignette of storylines. The other one I am even more excited about, which I’ve begun with writing out a bit more on Regency Elvis. Which would be absolutely full of this dynamic and a married strangers to lovers trope that is one of my all time favorites on top of that.

Anyways, I’ve gone on and on but I squealed with joy over your ask because I really love how much you enjoyed it and enjoy it similarly myself. I always welcome prompts and plots and ideas, you never know what might get interwoven into any story of mine.

Xoxo

Marina

#I’m addicted to this trope so it’s only a matter of time for more to come out #I’m just a scaredy-cat that feeds off applause when I’m writing dubious things l #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #asks #about the author 😏#elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis

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k4tie75 · 8 months

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A/n hiii I’m a hopeless romantic it’s obvious at this point the amount I write about weddings 😭😭

This might be really shit idk?

This has been proofread but only by me, at like 3am 😭

Warnings: getting high outside a church, bit cheesy icl but cute?

Word count: 2k

Summary: Iris met Matty 17 years ago, today they're getting married and Iris’s mum retells the story of how the pair met.

"And do you Iris Jane Thomson, take Matthew Timothy Healy to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?" Asks the officiant

"I do." I reply with eyes glossed by tears.

Matty smiles warmly at me.

"And with that i now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride" the officiant says to finish the ceremony.

He doesn't have to ask Matty twice because right after the officiant is finished speaking Matty grabs my waist and catches my lips in a kiss full of all the love and adoration we have for eachother.

A while later after the meal, my tipsy mum makes a toast, she starts retelling the story of how Matty and I met.

"Iris and Matty met at mine and Ted's wedding 17 long years ago" she drunkenly giggles placing her hand on my step dad Ted's shoulder.

17 years earlier (2007)

Todays the day, Mum and Ted are finally getting married.

I'm woken up at half 4 to my very cute 5 year old sister Ella, who very clearly has no sense of time crawling into my bed and asking for her favourite TV show.

I didn't deny her request because who could say no to that face and I needed to be up soon anyways.

I put it on, got up and headed to the bathroom to get freshened up.

When I come back she's fast asleep, snoring quietly so I turn the TV off and tuck her in, because no one wants a grumpy, sleepy toddler moping about on their big day.

I spend the rest of the morning helping mum and eventually getting Ella up and ready.

I then get myself ready, I get into my bridesmaid dress.

It's a simple light blue full length dress that matches the other bridesmaids.

Next i do my hair and makeup and run downstairs to see my mum all dolled up and in her dress talking to the other bridesmaids about table settings or something.

She looks gorgeous and i make sure to tell her right before the fancy car that she hired shows up.

I pick up Ella while the other bridesmaids take mum's train so it won't get dirty and we all get in the car, feeling like royalty.

After the lavish ride we make it to the church and get ready to walk down the Isle to the row at the front but all of a sudden mum in a rush introduces me to the groomsman I'm walking down with.

"Iris this is Matty, Matty this is iris you two are walking down together you might need to help Ella with the flowers, okay love you, go! go! go!"

"Love you too" I reply and then take the hand that Matty, a boy I've never met has extended and walk down the Isle with him.

Ella does her flowergirl duties perfectly and when we reach our seats she sits in between me and Matty.

The ceremony is lovely, I cry a little because of how beautiful it is.

I catch Mattys gaze briefly land on me but quickly move away.

After the ceremony the drinks hour begins, I don't really get the chance to see Mum or Ted because their being kept busy with the other guests.

When Ella spots Gran she's running into her arms, with that big gappy smile everybody loves.

I'm sitting at one of the tables picking at my nail polish while i listening to some older lady that claims she hasn't seen me since I was 3 drunkenly ramble on about how she's had 4 husbands in 50 years, honestly the story's quite interesting at the start but quickly becomes confusing.

So I'm ecstatic when someone says my name in an attempt to get my attention.

"Uhm, hey iris" the unfamiliar male voice says.

I turn around and see Matty standing there looking down smirking.

"Oh! Uh Hey Matty" I reply surprised.

He looks up and nods his head to the door, silently asking if i wanted to go outside with him.

Thankfully someone else sits down at the table and the older lady's attention quickly switches to them.

I take that as my chance to leave the table and go with Matty.

When we get round the back of the church he goes into his suit pocket and pulls out a small plastic container with two joints, he pulls one out, lights it and takes a puff.

After exhaling he asks.

"You smoke?"

"Sometimes" i reply airily.

His lips curl into a small smile as he offers me the joint.

I take it and inhale deeply, his gaze is fixated on my lips as i blow out the smoke slowly.

I pass it back to him.

"Fuckkkk thought wedding's were ment to be fun" I say.

"What so hearing about some old lady drone on about her divorces isn't how you planned to be spending your parents long awaited wedding?" He jokes

I laugh and so does he.

The conversation flows nicely, the joint gets smaller and we get closer untill we're inches apart.

He stubs out the roach on the wall and places a hand on my jaw, making my breath hitch.

My eyes travel down his face until they pause at his lips.

He does the same and leans down to catch my lips in a soft kiss.

Although he quickly pulls away and mutters an apology.

However I pull him back in just as fast and this time it's a much deeper kiss, messy but hungry.

Maybe it's the weed or just Matty in general but this is the best kiss I've ever had.

He tastes of weed and cheap alcohol.

I thread my fingers through his hair and his already strong grip on my waist tightens.

We kiss untill we run out of oxygen and pull away from eachother gasping for air.

"Fuck me, that was hot" I say under my breath.

Unfortunately Matty hears me and half jokingly says.

"Anytime"

I don't get the chance to reply because I hear Ted calling my name from around the front of the church.

"Shit" I whisper and fix my hair so it doesn't look like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards.

I look apologetically at Matty giving him a quick peck on the cheek before I run off.

"Hey Ted" I say trying not to sound out of breath and seem sober.

"Oh thank god iris your mother- where on earth have you been, are you high?!" Ted says shocked.

"Uhm i was round the back of the church crying because I'm so happy for you and mum" I say making the crap lie up on the spot.

He sighs, smiles and shakes his head knowing that you're not telling the truth but as long as you're having fun and are safe he's fine with it.

"Okay hun, I know you're high but please atleast act normal because your mums inside waiting for a dance with you"

"Go on" Ted says nodding his head towards the door with a kind smile on his face.

I go inside to dance with my mum, thankfully she's too drunk to realise I'm High.

Infact she's so drunk that when she sees Matty with a sour look on his face sitting next to his mum after hes being caught High she calls him over.

When he notices I'm standing there too his expression changes to a boyish grin and his once slow walking pace quickens.

"Mattyyy" mum says with a dopey smile when he reaches us on the dance floor.

"Hi Mrs Thompson" he replies.

"Ohhh don't be silly call me Janet hun" she correts him.

Before he gets the chance to reply she's speaking again.

"Well the reason I called you over is because I noticed how darling you and iris looked together during the ceremony and I was just thinking how cute it'd be if you two danced together"

Matty doesn't even take time to think it over before he replies.

"Yeah sure, I mean as long as Iris wants to."

I look down and smile.

"Yeah okay"

"I'll leave you two too it!" Mum says excitedly before she runs off abandoning the rushed conversation to talk to Denise.

"Soooo" Matty say as a slow song comes on.

"Soooo" I mimic with a giggle.

He awkwardly places his hands on my waist and I loosely wrap my hands around his neck and we start swaying in time with the music and the awkwardness fades.

After a while of comfortable silence between me and Matty he breaks it and whispers to me.

"You're gorgeous"

I feel my cheeks get hot and I know I'm blushing.

This only makes Matty smile more.

"Thanks, you're not so bad yourself" I reply

Out of the blue he kisses me on the cheek.

We grin at each other and continue dancing but then some pop songs start playing so it's a bit more chill and the two of us properly dance together and have a laugh, the weed still effecting both of us but that was kind of the point.

An hour or so later we're both exhausted and go find a table to sit at.

Mattys phone goes off and that must be what inspired him to ask for my number.

I put it in his phone and that's when Denise comes over and tells him they have to go because Louis is just about falling asleep.

As much as Matty tries to convince his mum to leave without him she doesn't budge and soon enough they're saying their goodbyes to everyone.

Just before Matty leaves we make eye contact and he holds his hand to his ear like a phone, mouths call me and winks.

I instantly get butterfly's for like the millionth time today.

I blow him a kiss, which he pretends to catch and put it in his pocket.

I smile at the ground and when I look up he's gone.

My phone buzzes and I know exactly who it is.

"Cya x"

Present day

Both me and Matty are crying happy tears as the story wraps up.

It feels like it was only yesterday we were behind the church sharing a joint and our first kiss.

"Love you" Matty says to me quietly.

"Love you too" I reply before he pulls me into a soft loving kiss.

_____________________

Okay that’s all 😭

we don’t talk about how girlies mum knew all of the story (cause she didn’t how could she?)

Hope you liked it idk the next time I’ll write cause my satvb show is next week and idk how I’ll live my life after that so it might be a while.

Love yous xo

#matty x reader #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy x oc #matty healy fluff #xox #idk what other tags to add 😭#matty healy oneshot #the 1975 x reader

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sapphic-scylla · 2 months

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My Current Commander Decks

So, a few people on here have started to pick up on the fact that, yes, I am a MTG player and a Commander player at that. I genuinely think it’s fun and it makes for a great way of not only making friends, but just being social with people in general, being that I am not only an introvert, but have a massive amount of social anxiety. So, with the ability to not really be able to skirt by it anymore, I figured “why not do a full rundown of the current decks I am running regularly?” Not sharing too many specifics just in case you want to play me eventually, but I do like talking about my current projects.

Shelob Spider Kindred (Golgari)-My current pride and joy. An army of spiders led by my favorite LOTR character, Shelob, Child of Ungoliant. Very fun and nasty deck that grants all of my spiders Deathtouch and the ability to create food copies of creatures my spiders kill.

Atraxa, Grand Executioner(Witch Maw or Everything but Red)-My competitive heavy-hitter. Atraxa holds as one of my favorite commanders in Magic (yes both of them) specifically because she lends to versatility and creativity. My variation on Atraxa, Grand Unifier lends to my love of three things: Phyrexian Praetors, Reanimation, and Edict effects. And before you ask, no. Not all of the Praetors are in here. Vorinclex and the two main villain Jin-Gitaxias cards don’t really fit here and they kinda ruin the fun for everyone else at the table, so I make a point to not run them. But I do have all three Sheoldreds, Elesh Norn (Mother of Machines), and the two sided Jin-Gitaxias and this deck goes to town when it wants.

Sauron, Lord of Reanimation(Grixis)-The first commander I picked up after a several year break. Sauron, Lord of the Rings, satisfies my deep love for two things: Reanimation and Behemoths. This version of Sauron is a 9/9 Trampler with the ability to just bring something out of the graveyard when he gets cast, so this deck is themed out with several ways to not only build an army of (who else?) Wraiths and Nazgul to force a retreat and then slam the Lidless Eye himself onto the field and bring the entire Wrath of Mordor screaming from the grave.

Atraxa’s Pet Hydras(Witch Maw)-To be fair, when I started building this deck, I did not intend for Atraxa to become the commander. However, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. This is an overrun deck. Hydras in MTG are notoriously dangerous because of their power versatility. Most rely on +1/+1 counters to rack up their power, so that’s where Atraxa comes in. Ramping her menagerie’s power to absolutely unhinged levels.

Angels and Assassins(Boros)-My newest banger. Aurelia, the Warleader is a huge pet card of mine and I love seeing her go to work, so I built out a Boros equipment deck for her to show off. Then Assassin’s Creed came out and not only introduced a bunch of solid equipment and gear to suit Aurelia up with, but they also dropped Kassandra, Eagle-bearer, that CAPITALIZES on the Equipment strategy. So this deck has a few alternate commanders that I swap in and out based on who I feel like swinging with that day.

Kitt Kanto Cat Fights(Naya)-There are very few things more fun than goading my opponents into attacking when most of my pod plays fairly passive. But when I have a Lounge singer Cat Druid from New Capenna which is essentially the Roaring 20’s plane and a deck filled with token generators and so many ways to make people fight? You can’t NOT sell me on this deck.

Gonti’s Casino(Sultai)-OTJ granted a lot of fun cards, but Gonti, Canny Acquisitor dropped at just the right time. See, when you play in a high powered pod, sometimes, the easiest way to deal with people’s insane power is to just steal it and use it for yourself and see how they like it. Gonti leans into the roulette that is exiling your opponents cards of the top of their deck and using them for yourself which is always a toss up. However, when Gonti and their rogues gallery is smooth enough to sleight of hand an Aetherflux Reservoir and an Ugin off the top of the deck? Don’t blame me, it wasn’t in MY deck.

Inalla, Archmage of Possibility(Grixis)-My VERY FIRST commander. At the time I got into commander, the Eminence cycle had been out for a bit and I managed to grab Inalla, Archmage Ritualist. Now, at the time, I had no clue what I was doing. I’m much more prepared now and this deck has TEETH. Wizard Tribal with the intention of copying and building out an army of Wizards from time and space to overwhelm and repurpose for not just combat damage, but direct damage. Ever seen someone lose a third of their health by me playing one card? How about me playing that card four times instead?

Ukkima & Cazur/Hollow Knight & Hornet(Sultai)-A 1v1 deck that can also be used in multiplayer. Ukkima, Stalking Shadow was a Partner commander I stumbled upon in one of my precons. What it turned into was a Voltron Juggernaut capable of swinging for lethal in four turns. After building it out, I reflavored the card into Hollow Knight and Hornet for the two halves of the partnership and now, I can show people what it’s like to be the residents of Hallownest.

#magic the gathering #mtg commander

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kittyt-hexxed · 2 years

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Book Two of Hexed - The Fury of Zaun (Vi × POC!Reader) - Ch.18

Next Upload Date: March 9th

Act 2: Chapter Eighteen - On the Inside

Warning: Vi and Caitlyn argue, list of life-threatening injuries, Stillwater explosion aftermath

Summary: You end up sitting around the shiny new councilors’ table and get an inside look on the Piltover situation.

When you met up with Jayce, he mentioned that he heard about you from Mel. To your annoyance, you end up talking to him about your House the whole way there. Viktor walked smugly next to you, secretly thankful that you were the one suffering in place of him. At one point, you jabbed him in the side before sweetly apologizing for accidentally hitting him. Viktor had laughed from a mixture of surprise and joy and jokingly told you it was an honor. You and Viktor ended up chatting to each other the last few minutes of your walk, though you could feel the discomfort radiating from Jayce as you did.

You quirk an eyebrow at the squad of Enforcers standing outside of the building. Having some form of security measure is a smart idea, but that wouldn’t stop you if you were serious about gaining entry. They don’t even bat an eyelash at you as you slip past them with Jayce and Viktor at your side. You were glad that they didn’t because you weren’t opposed to driving a dagger into them and watching their blood stain christen the repaired building. You were, admittedly, still feeling high emotions from what happened earlier this morning. Being a little trigger-happy was part of it. The inside of the building was just as you expected - pristine. You could tell that a vast amount of the material is from the mines in Zaun except for some outsourced materials. If you hadn’t promised Zealot that you wouldn’t blow this building up again, you would’ve been giving Jinx the go-ahead tonight. The Council’s conference room was a grand space with the only available seating around the table. You raise an eyebrow at the lack of seating for others. ‘Don’t these things take a long time? Other people who attend would have to stand for the majority of the time. That’s quite unfair if someone has a disability that doesn’t allow them to stand for long.’ The other Councilors in the room glance your way when you waltz in and Mel seems to brighten up when she sees you. Councilor Kiramman on the other hand seems to be torn at your appearance.

“Jayce. Viktor! Y/n!” Mel greets you all as she walks over, “I see you’ve met.”

“Briefly. I was visiting Viktor when Jayce came by.” You respond, holding your arm out, “It’s wonderful to see you again, Mel. A bit earlier than planned, but I hope I'm not intruding.” Mel takes your arm and gives it a firm shake. Your uncle had advised you to get in as close as you could to Mel. He explained that she was a very cunning woman, but as an outsider on the Council, she may not has as much influence as you think she does. You trust your uncle so you were going to take his advice.

“Of course not. Honestly, with your unique position, we could use your input on an issue that recently happened. I’m sure you might’ve heard about what happened this morning?” Mel takes your arm and starts guiding you away from Jayce. You glance back at Viktor to make sure he’s okay with the event playing out this way and he motions for you to continue forward with her.

“I did hear what happened from the whispers flowing throughout the city. It’s all everyone was talking about this morning. Do you have any clue about how it happened?” You ask with fake worry.

“We have a clue about it.” Councilor Kiramman speaks up, “But, we will address that once everyone is here.”

“Councilor Shoola, this is Y/n Pyre. A family friend.” Mel introduces you to a well-put-together black woman. You raise an eyebrow, realizing that you’ve seen this woman at Renata’s mansion a few times. She raises an eyebrow back, a glimmer of recognition in her eyes as they flick up to your hair where your horns would be. ‘It looks like I’ll be needing to have a private conversation with her. Whether or not I’ll need to take her out will depend on how the conversation goes.’ You file that information away for later.

“It’s nice to meet you, Heiress Pyre.” Councilor Shoola holds out her hand, “Although, I wish it was in better circumstances.”

“Heiress Pyre, niece to the Warlord Cassius Pyre and the Heiress to one of the oldest remaining Noxian Houses.” A very professional-sounding voice says from behind you. It strikes a chord within your chest and you turn to lock eyes with vivid blue ones. A loud, aggressive song bursts into your mind along with screeching from the Brackern within you. You’re almost visibly startled by their reactions and your mind is flooded with image after image. It forces you to close your eyes and allow their emotions to flood through you. You feel a hand on your shoulder - Mel’s from the sound of her soul song - and you clamp down on your connection to the Brackern.

“Yes, but I’m afraid I don't know who you are Ms…?” You pause, waiting for her to respond. You were feeling waves of rage from the Brackern as you gaze at the white-haired woman. At first glance, you would have missed her augmentation but the creatures within you would not let you miss it. Hextech. A Namestone glitters at the center of her chest and the sharp sting of your fangs is followed by the taste of rich iron as you try to keep yourself from growling.

“Camille. Camille Ferros.” She holds her hand out to you, “One of the new Councilors.”

“It’s nice to meet you Councilor Ferros.” You shake her hand and an electric shock races its way up your arm from your clasped hands. You notice a flash of confusion in the woman’s eyes before they flick down to your joined hands. She felt it too.

“Why don’t we take our seats?” Councilor Kiramman offers, “Everyone else will be arriving shortly.” The others agree and Mel leads you back over to Jayce. Even though you weren’t looking at Camille you were hyper-aware of her. Her Namestone was begging for you, pleading for you to come back and it was torture to sit and ignore its screams for help. That moment of contact had given it all it needed from you. It didn’t help that the Brackern within you were acting positively feral. Viktor gives you a concerned glance as you take a seat next to him because he can see that your hands were shaking aggressively. You flash him a smile to ease his nerves when you hear the doors open. As if someone manually turns your head, you find yourself looking at the one woman who can smother the burning rage within you. Violet. A real smile spreads from your lips to your eyes.

The moment the boat was docked, Vi jumped off and started to make her way up the docks so she could go back to the Kiramman’s and sleep. She was feeling exhausted after being awake for the last forty-eight hours. Normally, it wouldn’t bother her. Vi was used to staying awake for a week straight when her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. She was tired because she’s been dealing with stupid Enforcers that don’t know how to do their damn jobs! Not to mention that they drained her energy and the little patience she had. Now that includes Caitlyn, too. Whenever Vi was in her line of sight, she could feel her eyes burning holes into her skin. She could ignore it with no problem but the other Enforcers had noticed - because, of course, they’d notice that and not the crime scene in front of them. Vi exhales in frustration.

“Vi! I swear to god if you don’t stop running from me-!” Caitlyn huffs indignantly, shutting up when Vi whirls around with an annoyed look on her face.

“I’m not running, cupcake. I’m tired and don’t want to deal with this shit right now. I get that you want to talk about what happened, but I don’t.” Vi hisses, her patience gone.

“We have to talk about it.” Caitlyn snaps quietly, “Your sister is the one who blew up the prison!”

“You don’t know that! Don’t accuse her of things when you have no proof!” Vi slams her hand into the wall next to her, causing cracks to form, “She’s not your scapegoat.”

“Who else uses colored smoke in their bombs?!” Caitlyn retorts, “Admit it, you know it was her and we need to find her before she causes more damage.”

“Here we go again.” Vi scoffs, crossing her arms, “And what are you going to do when we find my sister? Threaten her? Throw her into Stillwater? Oh, wait, you can’t.”

“You never want to talk about this! You’re always avoiding the conversation!”

“You ever think I don’t want to talk to you about it because you are acting insufferable? Your first instinct is to arrest her when you know that’s not what I want and it won’t help the situation. You’re always thinking like an Enforcer and if I wanted to talk to an Enforcer I’d go do that. I’m not running from you or the conversation. I’d rather have the conversation when you’re thinking like the woman who broke me out of prison and not the Sheriff with a stick up her ass.” Caitlyn’s jaw drops as Vi glares at her. Every time Caitlyn brought up the conversation, it was the same thing over and over again and Vi was done. She knows that her sister is responsible for what happened and it’s something she is currently conflicted with herself over. When she witnessed the rubble left behind, she felt so deliriously happy that she had to find somewhere private to laugh. At the same time, people were murdered. Body parts and blood were found scattered amongst the rubble. Vi needed space to think and sort out her own emotions, and Caitlyn’s constant badgering wasn’t helping her.

“Vi, I-”

“-Sheriff!?” Someone calls out for Caitlyn. The two women stare at each other as Caitlyn calls back to the person. Vi sees one of the Enforcers enter the side street over Caitlyn’s shoulder and scowls.

“Sheriff, you and Vi have been summoned to a Council Meeting. They need you there right away to discuss what’s happened with Stillwater.” They say, making Caitlyn sigh.

“Thank you, we’ll head there now. If there’s anything needed, please send a Pneuma Tube as soon as possible.” Caitlyn informs them.

“Yes, ma’am.” They nod and walk away. Vi stares at Caitlyn a bit longer before turning on her heel and heading to the Councilor’s Building. ‘I just want to sleep. Fuck, they better not make me angry because my fuse is non-fucking-existent right now.’ She grumbles to herself. The sound of Caitlyn’s heels behind her only irritates her more, and she has to take a calming breath. Vi made sure to stay ahead of her, not wanting to welcome any more conversation with the insufferable woman right now. She needed to prepare herself for whatever is going to happen in this meeting. They would immediately pin it on her sister and she would be needing all the strength she has to keep herself as calm as possible.

Thankfully, as she walks through the streets no one is talking about the explosion anymore. The dockworker over there had seen what happened and ran to tell people before he could be stopped. That’s most likely why the Council Meeting is taking place now and not later this evening like usual. Vi has no issues getting into the building since she’s been coming here for months now. She knew everyone on a first-name basis and even knew some of their problems at home. If there was one weapon Vi always had on her, it was her charisma. If she really wanted to, she could learn so many secrets from the staff and Councilors themselves. They wouldn’t even realize it. Without a pause, Vi walks into the Council Room, and her gaze wanders around the room to see who’s already there. The Councilors in the room are seated with only a couple missing, not that she cares. Vi nearly stumbles mid-step when she sees Y/n grinning at her from next to Jayce! She couldn’t help grinning back, feeling her annoyance vanish at the sight of such a beautiful smile.

You’re on your feet before you can even think about it, swiftly crossing over to Vi and embracing her in a much-needed hug. You can see the exhaustion on her face, and it makes you wonder how long she’s been awake. From the subtle way Vi relaxes into your arms, a soft exhale of relief leaving her lips, you know it’s been a few days. Her being in your arms made the rage in your mind quiet, even if it would be just for a moment, you relished in the much-needed peace.

“It’s nice to see you again, Vi.” You say formally, stepping out of the embrace to clasp your hands in front of you. Vi examines you for a moment before nodding.

“It’s nice to see you again, Y/n. Although, I wasn’t expecting you to be here?” Vi tilts her head. You could see another question behind her eyes but you only give her a soft smile. She’d probably pull you aside later to question if you had anything to do with what happened to Stillwater.

“I was asked to come for my expertise.” You shrug, eyes shining mischievously, “I was visiting my friend Viktor when Jayce came by to collect him.”

“Heiress Pyre.” Caitlyn greets you from behind Vi, walking in with two other people you assume to be the missing Councilors, “You’re joining us today?” Her voice goes up slightly in pitch, surprise on her face.

“Yes.” You nod, hearing Viktor call you, “If you’ll excuse me? We can talk afterwards.” You meet Vi’s eyes and she nods. You flash her a smile and return to your seat with Viktor, getting a curious look from Jayce in the process. ‘That’s right. The majority of these people don’t know my history with Vi. I doubt Mel would have mentioned that to Jayce or anyone else.’ True to your guess, the other two people who walked in took the empty Councilor seats. You can’t identify them at first look, but you’re sure their names will be mentioned at some point throughout the meeting. Vi and Caitlyn take their seats behind Councilor Kiramman and the room goes quiet. You can see Caitlyn give you a strained look, her tense shoulders showing you that she was uncomfortable with your presence.

“Now that everyone is here, the meeting can go ahead and begin.” Jayce stands, calling attention to himself, “Around 3:12 am, two Enforcers were witnesses to the explosion that happened at Stillwater Hold. Instead of me giving a retelling, I’ll have one of the key witnesses give a first-hand account. That witness just so happens to be our very own Vi.” He motions to her. You raise an eyebrow and turn your attention towards Vi who seems like she’s used to Jayce’s antics. She stands, her posture straight and confident showing that she wasn’t intimidated by the Council. You’re amused to note that her hands are even tucked into the pockets of her Enforcer uniform, further showing that she’s not bothered in the slightest.

“I wasn’t scheduled to be on patrol last night but I switched out with someone since I couldn’t sleep. I thought I might as well do something useful, so I did my usual rounds before stationing myself at pillar twenty-six to observe the water. As usual, one of the newer recruits came by to greet me once he learned that I was on duty. We talked while observing the water as a way to pass the time. During the conversation, a thick fog rolled in and obstructed my view of the building. With the weather being the way it was, that didn’t ring any alarms for me. It was shortly after that I heard a loud screeching in the air.”

“A loud screeching?” Councilor Kiramman asks.

“Yes. I thought it was a bird call at first, but I’ll be honest and say that it made me nervous. It didn’t sound like any bird I’ve heard before.”

“Was the recruit with you scared by it?” Councilor Shoola inquires.

“Yes. He was scared by it, so it made me more alert. But, since we couldn’t see anything through the fog there was nothing we could do to investigate it.” There’s a silence for any further questions before Vi continues speaking, “I’m not sure how much time passed after the screeching noise but the explosion came shortly after that. I heard it before I could see it, but once the fog was cleared I could see the smoke with no issue.”

“And this smoke… it was colored?” One of the unknown Councilors speaks up.

“Yes, Councilor Dawlit.” Vi nods, “Various colors that stood out against the night sky. You couldn’t miss them. Not only that but from my position you can clearly see that Stillwater was gone.”

“Are you telling us everything?” The other Councilor arches a brow.

“Councilor Kippern.” Jayce frowns.

“No, it’s alright.” Vi shrugs, “I was going to get to the interesting part. I could hear more explosions after that, but they were significantly quieter. The interesting part was that fireworks were going off. I couldn’t hear them but I could see them.”

“Fireworks?” Jayce blinks, “Why would there be fireworks?”

“A loud statement, perhaps.” Mel drawls, “Or a celebration. Whatever their reason for blowing up the prison was, it must have required them.”

“It has to be Jinx.” Councilor Kiramman says firmly, “She’s the only one who has been caught using colored explosives.”

“What did you find on the scene, Sheriff?” Jayce directs the conversation to Caitlyn. Vi sits down and crosses her legs while Caitlyn stands up.

“Before we could even get to the prison, we had an… obstacle in the way. We found the Warden of Stillwater - Mateo Hill - hanging from some poles on the dock while unconscious and horribly injured. It took three squads to get him down without aggravating any of his injuries. This was our first clue as to the explosion being caused by Jinx as her monkey symbol was drawn on his back.” Caitlyn starts handing out photos to everyone, narrowing her eyes at you briefly before taking her position, “The water was filled with debris the closer we got to the island, so we had to be very careful. When we managed to get to Stillwater Hold… the whole building had been blown apart and what was left of it collapsed to dust. We grappled down into the hole and it was a gruesome sight. As we searched for survivors, we found multiple body parts…” She gives a full report, pointing out specific pictures as she talks. You couldn’t help but feel extremely smug seeing the wreckage. None of the people had been alive when it blew up, but they didn’t know that. The disgust and outrage from all of the Councilors had you interested in what they said. You could tell who didn’t really care for the supposed deaths and who was genuinely upset.

“Viktor, you’ve seen Undercity tech. Do you have any idea what kind of explosive would have been needed for this? How Jinx would’ve made it?” Jayce asks, drawing attention to the two of you as you’ve been quietly conversing over the images.

“From the pictures, it’s hard to say. Zaun has access to a plethora of materials Piltover has no idea of. She could have used any number of them to create a bomb for this. From some of the marks on the stone, it looks like there was some kind of corrosive chemical in it. It must’ve eaten away at the foundation before it was detonated.” Viktor explains, “But, this is clearly the work of multiple explosives. Even one strategically placed wouldn’t have brought the whole building down.”

“So, she couldn’t have done this alone.” Councilor Ferros points out, making the Brackern’s anger flair up, “That’s a lot for one person to do in a highly secured prison.”

“Do we have any inside information?” Councilor Shoola taps her fingers on the table, gazing off in thought.

“We don’t know what happened inside the prison and our only witness is currently… incapacitated.” Caitlyn sighs in frustration, forcing you to look down to hide a smile.

“What are Mr.Hill’s injuries?” Jayce frowns. ‘Oh, I have to see Vi’s face for this. I don’t even know about his injuries. Jinx and I weren’t exactly gentle.’ You look up and pointedly wait until you make eye contact with Vi. She gives you a questioning look, her head tilting and making a strand of hair fall into her face. Your heart flutters in your chest at the image she’s giving off. Her being in an Enforcer’s uniform irks you, but the image of Vi in a uniform makes you squeeze your legs together? ‘Did my heart just skip a beat? What am I doing?’ You force your legs to relax.

“-list of injuries from the ICU. Starting at the top of his body and working our way down - basilar cranial fracturing, concussion, broken jawbone, heavy facial bruising, fractured collarbone, multiple bruises along the upper body, broken ribs and rope burns from being tied up. As a result of heavy handling, the broken bones have shifted and will need to be reset before he’s given a Healing Tonic.” Caitlyn hands out the signed doctor’s report and it gets passed around the table. You’re unable to see Vi’s expression because you’re immediately pulled into a conversation with Mel.

“Y/n.” Mel addresses you, “Do you have any idea if there are people working with Jinx? I’m sure you’ve heard or seen things since you live in the Undercity.” All eyes turn to you and you clear your throat, slowly standing up as you formulate a story.

“Those of us in the Undercity tend to stay far away from Jinx. She’s volatile and unpredictable.” You frown and cross your arms over your chest, “But, I’ve heard whispers about Jinx getting close with one of the newer gangs - The Furies. From what I heard, their leader is just as unpredictable as Jinx is. I don’t get involved in gang business, especially when the rumors around said gang is appalling.”

They continued to ask you questions and you answered them with incomplete truths. You were careful to leave out specific details and give vague ones if necessary. Vi’s lips twitched into a smile as she picked up on what you were doing. Caitlyn didn’t take her eyes off of you the whole time and you disregarded her. The Councilors ended up in a deep debate on what to do about Jinx and what to say about Stillwater. You did your best to steer them toward an option that works in your favor. Throughout the meeting, you learn that Councilor Ferros is someone you need to look out for. But, the most interesting thing was how Mel and Councilor Shoola tried to go for more tamer options.

“It has been decided. We will set up regular patrols within the city to keep an eye out for Jinx. Thankfully, it shouldn’t be too difficult to spot someone with red hair.” Jayce sighs, making you blink. Vi signals you from across the room, running a hand through her hair as she repositions herself. ‘She’s the one who gave them her description?!’ You bite your tongue, holding in a snicker. You feel Viktor kick your ankle and you give him a look. He motions to your hands and you glance down to see your claws glitter back at you. A flash of panic goes through you and you force them to change back. ‘Shit, I really need to talk to Iesura and Umbra after this. If they’re that angry that I’m reacting without realizing it, this must be very serious.’

“-official statement that Stillwater Hold had an unfortunate accident where a gas line exploded. The discovery of Mr.Hill will not be disclosed, and the dock worker is already under strict obligation to remain silent on it. If we tell the people about Jinx, it’ll only freak them out. Thankfully, the only other people that know are within this room.” Councilor Kiramman concludes the meeting, going over the final notes and tying up any loose ends. The moment the Council is dismissed, Vi is out of her chair and coming over to you.

“Thank you for coming to the meeting.” Jayce says to you, shaking your hand, “Your perspective as someone living in Zaun has been invaluable.” You try not to wrinkle your nose at his sweaty hand.

“I’m glad I could be of some help.” You smile, subtly wiping your hand on the back of your thigh. Vi brushes past Jayce, getting a slight glare from the man at her disrespectful actions.

“You’ve got a second to talk, Y/n?” Vi asks you.

“Of course, I do.” You nod, a soft smile on your face. You hear the clicking of heels and glance to the side to see Mel approaching with Caitlyn right behind her.

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with you. I planned on sending a missive today, but I’d prefer to do it now since you’re here.” Mel states before glancing between you and Vi, “If you have a moment to spare, that is?” She gives you a sly smile. ‘Speak with me? About what?’ You puzzle. The only thing you can think of would involve House business.

“Yes.” You clear your throat, feeling your cheeks warm, “I do. Where would you like to have this meeting?”

“Why not the Visitor’s Hall?” Vi offers, cutting Caitlyn off before she can speak, “I can stand guard, just in case.” You smile at that. You can see in Vi’s piercing eyes that she doesn’t want to let you out of her sight.

“Perfect.” Mel agrees, motioning to the door, “Shall we?” You hold up a hand and turn to Viktor.

“If you’re heading back before I’m done, can you let my brother know that I’ll be there soon?” You ask Viktor, watching him nod.

“Don’t worry. Sky and I will keep him busy until you return.” Viktor chuckles, “I have a few things to show him that I could use his help on.”

“Great!” You grin, turning back to Mel, “Let’s go.” You and Mel are escorted by Vi to the Visitor’s Hall which is more of a very large room. There’s a bar with an assortment of drinks and finger food and a few couches to sit on. Vi tells you that she’ll wait outside until you’re done talking, and that makes you feel relaxed. ‘Although, the reason she’s waiting is so she can grill me about Stillwater. It’s still nice to have her close to me.’

“So, Mel, what can I do for you?” You take a seat across from the woman. Mel shifts in her seat, glancing down at her hands before sighing.

“I’m afraid that I don’t have as great of an influence on the Council as I once did.” Mel says out of the gate, shocking you, “With the others dead, Cassandra now holds seniority and the most sway. I am not of Piltoven blood, so that already limited my position… but now the newer elected members all hold very similar views to her.”

“Mel… I- Why are you telling me this?” You stutter, caught off-guard by her sudden openness.

“Our families are Battle-bonded so I figured…” Mel trails off, taking a sip of some water she had grabbed on your way in. ‘Oh.’ You blink. ‘Mel… wanted someone to confide in? This is a large difference from the woman I met the other night.’ You observe her.

“It would be nice to have a confidant you can trust not to expose you?”

“Exactly.” Mel sighs, “I’ve taken steps to ensure my place on the Council, to build myself up, but at the end of the day I’m still under Cassandra’s thumb.”

“Pardon me for asking but… what about Jayce? Or Councilor Shoola?” You tilt your head.

“Jayce?” Mel laughs, “Oh, no. Jayce is too easy to manipulate. He’d be spilling all of my secrets to the right person and I can’t have that. And, Shoola? Well, she’s a woman with her own secrets. We’re soft friends, but nowhere close enough for this.” You nod and let her continue talking. Mel ends up rambling to you about everything. The sweet, delicate melody of her soul filled the room as she talked, and it made you misty-eyed. Not only was she telling you the truth, but she genuinely felt comfortable doing so. She had been holding so much in that the first sign of someone she could truly trust… she broke. Mel told you about her mother, her exile, how she became a Councilor, how she manipulated another Councilor to solidify her spot, and - what makes you choke on your water - how she felt horrible for what’s happening with Vi.

“Ex-cuse- Me.” You cough, fighting to not inhale the water in your mouth. It takes a bit longer than you’d like, but Mel’s patient with you.

“What do you mean by that? What’s going on with Vi?” You question, eyes widening as you do.

“She’s stuck with the Kirammans. I tried to get her transferred to me after I noticed that she was exhausted all the time, but I was turned down.” Mel frowns, “I’m afraid that Cassandra might be working her too hard and you seem very close to her, so I thought I’d mention it to you. Maybe visiting her one evening might help her relax? From the few times I’ve seen you two interact, you’re very relaxed in her presence.” She states, watching as you look down at your wrist. Your ice cream tattoo smiles up at you.

“Now that I know she’s okay… I just might.” You flash her a smile, “Is that all you wished to talk about?”

“Yes, sorry.” Mel chuckles, playing with her fingers, “I didn’t mean to ramble like that to you.”

“Don’t worry. House confidentiality.” You grasp her forearm tightly, “I appreciate you trusting me with this.” You really did. You expected it to take much longer, but you could see the loneliness in Mel’s soul. Although a successful adult, her soul song spoke of a young girl who desired nothing more than to be loved and recognized. You’re touched to hear a happier note to it, now that she has confided in you.

“Thank you for listening.” Mel gives you a very soft smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears, “I’ll send Vi in when I leave. I hope we can converse again soon.” You liked the sound of that. You were glad that you didn’t doubt your uncle. You would have felt ashamed if you had doubted him at first.

“Likewise.” You nod, watching as she stands, “It was wonderful to get to know you.” Mel gives you another smile before schooling her features and heading out of the room. A minute passes and you wait for Vi to enter. When the door opens, you turn to it with a bright smile only to scowl when you see Caitlyn come storming in.

“I don’t know what reason you have for being here, but you’re not welcome!” Caitlyn snaps, “Leave before I tell them who you are!”

“Caitlyn.” You chuckle, standing up from the couch to approach her, “Did you forget how easy it was for Jinx to kidnap you? Now think of how easy it will be for me to sneak into your room and kill you.” You whisper into her ear, glancing at her terrified face with a smirk. You shove past her and head for the door, intending on finding Vi. She wouldn’t have let Caitlyn in here if she wasn’t busy with something.

“You can’t threaten me!” Caitlyn calls from behind you. You pause and turn to her, your eyes glowing as you do.

“No, Sheriff. You can’t threaten me.” You smile darkly, “Have a fun time cleaning up Stillwater or what’s left of it anyway.” With a wave, you open the door and step out to see Vi in a conversation with Cassandra Kiramman herself. ‘Hm, so that’s why she let Caitlyn in.’ You put a smile on your face as you approach and the sound of your boots gets their attention.

“Heiress Pyre.” Councilor Kiramman greets you, “I hope you don’t mind me having a word with Vi.”

“Councilor.” You nod, “I don’t mind, but I’m afraid I need Vi to show me the way back to Jayce’s workshop. I have a feeling I’ll get lost trying to head there on my own.” You give a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your neck for emphasis.

“Of course, we wouldn’t want that.” Councilor Kiramman clears her throat, “Get her there safely.” She sternly addresses Vi and you hear Caitlyn come out of the room. Your fingers twitch at her treatment of Vi, and you take a deep breath. Vi doesn’t bother responding, only giving a nod before holding out her arm to you. You take it and the two of you immediately begin walking down the hall. Your body starts thrumming with energy at the physical contact and it startles you, so you decide to distract yourself.

“If you’re wondering about Stillwater… Yes. It was us.” You say casually, using your magic to create a privacy ward, “No one can hear what we’re talking about by the way. Whoever walks by will only hear us talking about something else.”

“Then, why?” Vi glances at you, “Why would you do that? I know that group you were talking about is yours. They may not understand but I do.”

“Short answer. You. They hurt you. Long answer. It was time for our people who were unjustly imprisoned to be set free.”

“…Why didn’t you kill the Warden, then?” You can hear the strain of her holding back the anger in her voice, “From how extensive his injuries were, you held back from killing him.”

“Killing him is your right.” You state firmly, making Vi halt in the middle of the stairs, “Jinx and I agreed on that before we got there. We’re not taking that from you.” A dark look appears in Vi’s eyes as she holds your gaze. You search for an indication of what she’s thinking, but you can’t tell what it is. ‘She must be feeling a lot of emotions right now.’ Vi exhales, closing her eyes and shaking her head to clear her thoughts.

“That’s...” She struggles to speak, walking down the stairs as she thinks, “not what I want.” You hold in a scoff, not wanting to upset her.

“Well, the option is there.” You shrug, “If you decide that’s what you want.” The conversation falls silent as you both think about Vi’s decision. You were a bit frustrated to hear her say that because you knew she wanted to. ‘Why is she running from herself?’ You furrow your brow. Something about Vi had felt off since she returned home, but you haven’t been able to put a finger on it.

“Will I see you again? Outside of all this mess.” Vi asks as you stop outside of the building, “I… would like to.” The two of you turn to face each other, and you grab her hands in yours.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Violet?” You question teasingly, but you’re actually surprised.

“Yeah, I am.” Vi tugs you closer, “I miss you and I want to take you on a date.”

“Tomorrow, then.” You grin, your heart fluttering, “Meet me at the bridge. 9 am. We can decide where to go from there.”

“Ah, I- You know what? I’ll be there.” Vi grins, “9 am, sharp.”

#vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #the fury of zaun #hexed

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funkymbtifiction · 2 years

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Hi, Charity! I’m not sure if it’s an intuitive (or having a 4 fix) thing, but what is the best way to deal with high expectations? I usually spend a huge amount of time idealizing experiences and their potential, but once they happen I can’t avoid feeling at least a little disappointed.

I think for any intuitive or anyone with a frustration core/wing, life is never quite wonderful enough. I relate. A couple of weeks ago, I planned an outing with two friends that I hoped would hit it off. I looked forward to it and expected to have fun and... it was not, and they did not (they disliked each other, lol), and then I was rather cross the next day because the fun I anticipated never materialized.

It's okay to think about things that are coming up and feel excited for them, but to try and set realistic expectations -- to catch yourself envisioning the perfect wonderful outcome and then asking if this is being realistic or not. The less time you spend envisioning things in your mind, the more of a chance reality has to be interesting. Try not to live it out in your imagination first too much or leap ahead in a relationship and fantasize about your futures together.

You can also remember that your response to a situation is optional. Instead of looking at it like "that wasn't amazing," ask what it has taught you or where you went wrong in envisioning it.

I see people simply enjoying things, appreciating moments for what they are, meanwhile I’m just frustrated.

Are you catching yourself being frustrated the minute it's happening? If so, take a beat. Take a breath. Get out of your mind and into your body. Be present in the moment. If you can't do that, change your thoughts. Look for something to be happy about in the moment. Look for the beauty in reality, the butterfly in the bushes, the way the light plays across your curtains. Make it a habit to challenge and alter your own thinking and look for something to rejoice in. It will seem stupid and awkward at first, and then get easier.

To worsen the situation, once the moment/special event is gone, I start to think about what could’ve been (“if it wasn’t raining that day, it would’ve been perfect”, “i should’ve gone with the flow instead of overthinking everything!”) and to idealize how next experience WILL be different (“I’m doing everything right next time!”),

Is there perfection to be found in the rain? Without rain, the earth would dry up and deprive us of its beauty and sustenance for life. It feeds the trees that create the oxygen we breathe.

Is there something wonderful in over-thinking? Or, can you learn next time to catch yourself over-thinking, take a breath, and decide to GO WITH THE FLOW? What if for one day you just said yes, and chose not to over-think? Would everything turn out surprisingly good?

What is the beauty in an imperfect experience? What joy could you find in it? Rather than idealizing next time, what was great about this time? Maybe it rained, but were the fries any good? Does the rain produce rainbows? The answer to impossible expectations is to learn to experience the joy out of an imperfect situation. Borrow some of the re-framing of 7 and choose to think about the situation, searching for something good instead. Make a practice of it.

but, when next time comes, I repeat the same process, searching for perfection when reality will never match the high expectations created by my own mind.

It's hard, I agree.

I can’t avoid feeling childish when talking to other people about this because they always say things like: “what did you expect? something out of the world, a fairytale?”, so I try to keep it to myself. It generates “are you not having fun?” questions, since I can’t pretend to feel something I’m not feeling (and I certainly expected to feel something very specific during that situation), but no one seems to fully understand what I wanted and, specially, why am I so upset (sometimes I even snap at people unnecessarily just because I’m frustrated).

You can't force yourself to feel things, unfortunately. So maybe just accept that whatever you are feeling is valid. That you are going to have off days. Learn to process these feelings and learn to put what you want into words and then think about whether they are realistic or not (realism -- I cannot control other people or what they do, I cannot control the weather, I cannot control my feelings or XYZ).

I find that writing things down helps me see what's possible and what's unrealistic thinking, in the same way journaling can diminish the level of "scare" present in fearful thoughts. Write down what you expect before an event and read it over. Sometimes how idealistic it is might leap out at you and shock you; and if nothing else, at least you will get your ideas/expectations clarified and less abstract.

If things disappoint you, dig into it. What did I want specifically from this interaction or experience? What I am searching for? Does it have a name or a shape or is it just that "... it wasn't THIS"?

I guess that it all comes from a desire to control things, to make all the puzzle pieces fit perfectly and exactly how you thought they would, but life doesn’t work that way and these situations only make me wish to stay in my own head even more, because “it’s better there anyway”. I know that I shouldn’t focus on the negative side of things, we’ve got to deal with reality even if we wish things were different. Is there anything that could make this easier, though? Thanks, I really appreciate your work and dedication to this blog!

Are you an INJ? If so, becoming more in touch with Se will help you -- learn to get in your body, focus on the world around you rather than in your mind, learn to see the beauty that exists in nature, etc. Real life is amazing, but you have to separate from your expectations in order to see the wonders it holds.

#question #mbti #intj #infj

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memento-morri-writes · 2 years

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Happy STS!!

What’s your favorite character relationship to write?

Any new plot developments? Say as much as you can without spoilers!

I’ve been making a family tree lately, so talk about a character’s family life! What’s their relationship like, is their family important, etc.

—Joy (@italiangothicwriteblr)

Hi Joy!!!! Thanks for the ask!

What’s your favorite character relationship to write?

Kristopher and Fallon, hands down. I just love them so much.

Any new plot developments? Say as much as you can without spoilers!

Hmmm... well, for high fantasy wip, all I will say is that one of the lines in the opening paragraph I shared is a lot more important than it seems.

Talk about a character’s family life! What’s their relationship like, is their family important, etc.

This is going to go under the cut, because it's going to get long!! (Family tree also under the cut!)

So, this is the Oakes-Pelle family tree. Not pictures are Kristopher's 5 siblings... but that' okay, because none of them have names, nor are most of them at all important. Also not shown are Kristopher's uncle and cousin, but they're also not important in the main story, not really.

I'm going to talk about both Kris and Fallon's family lives, because they're so wildly different.

Kristopher: His family is absolutely awful. He was a sixth child who no one wanted, and especially being a son meant he wasn't even useful to marry off. Because of this his family bullied and abused him more or less since birth. They told him (and the rest of the kingdom) that he was worthless, and would never amount to anything. The only light in his family was his older sister, who I have yet to find an ideal name for. She could somewhat relate to his position, seeing as her main "purpose" was to find a suitable husband. She was the only one who really cared for Kristopher, and was his only friend for most of his life. She also kept him from self-destructing too badly, and after her marriage to a noble from a distant kingdom, things began to go much worse for Kris. Also, Kristopher's uncle is a traitor who was exiled to a batch of islands to the south because fucking Pierre was too cowardly to imprison or execute his own brother. (You can read more about that whole drama here.)

Fallon: For Fallon, family is very important. She was very close with her mother and grandmothers, all of whom adored her. Her father was largely absent, preferring to spend his time hunting and traveling rather than being with his family. Fallon came to resent him for that, even before his betrayal, and wished not only for her sake but also for her mother's that her father had been a better man. Fallon's grandmothers passed away when she was a young teen, leaving her and her mother, and absent Wymond. Fallon grew even closer with her mother after that, and the two spent a lot of time together. Rosalynn taught Fallon what she knew about being Queen, and was beginning to move towards the process of stepping down within a decade when she was killed, leaving Fallon alone.

#Anonymous #sts #sts asks #storyteller saturday #wip: atqh #atqh: Fallon #atqh: Kris #high fantasy wip #italiangothicwriteblr #Joy 👑

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lostandfoundbook · 4 months

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Chapter 12

Read it on AO3

Read it on Wattpad

The two of them made their way to a Café in the hotel where Alex consistently begged Oliver to invite her theatre friends. It was an old tradition in musical theatre. After you have a performance, you all go out together and eat. When she was doing high school theatre, they all went out to Denny's or iHop. This seemed a little more prestigious than that.

Eventually Oliver relented, seeing the look of pure joy in Alex's eyes. It was hard to deny her when she had this gleam to her eyes that made them look warm and inviting. It was easier to say yes, in the end, and spend the day with her friends. It was an elating feeling, being surrounded by such a talented grouping of people all in one location.

Currently, they were all sat around the bar just chatting, and talking through their experiences at the theatre. She was still wearing her angel dress that was custom made for her, and everyone else had decided to dress up in their best outfits to match her power. Dex wore a dashing suit that looked tailor made and Julia dawned a red off-the-shoulder lace-y dress.

Almost everybody had shown up. Brandon, Scott, Julia, and Dex. She tried to invite the ensemble members, and Elijah, but it turned out they were all busy with auditioning for a new production else wear already. The city was as busy as it ever was with the cars below whizzing and honking as they passed by.

This wasn't shocking to Alex. It's a very high paced industry that's constantly moving, constantly flowing and going somewhere. There wasn't a lot of time to just pause and reflect on the day, which is why getting together after a musical was so important to her.

"So, what is everyone doing after this production?" Julia asked out, placing her hands on the table as she did so. "I want to start auditioning already" Scott replied

"Some people already are. There's apparently a production of Wicked being held somewhere."

"Are you for serious? No way I'm missing out on that! That's such a bummer."

They had all ordered food and drinks and were waiting for them to arrive as they spoke. It was so carefree and effortless, like Alex didn't have to try to get along with them. It just happened. She could see Oliver didn't look as awkward as when they all first arrived here as well.

Dex joined in with the conversation. "Right?! Wicked is such a cool production. I want to do ensemble there so badly." Oliver seemed to visually pause at that. "Why wouldn't you want a name role?" He eventually questioned.

She eyed him up to see how serious he was being. He was dead serious. "Being apart of ensemble is like, 10 times the amount of work with 100 times the payoff. You get to be in all the scenes, and without you, the production would fall flat. It's like a song with no music. It's still a song, but it'll always be missing that important background piece to it."

He seemed to understand. Musical theatre was much bigger to this group of people than he could ever really grasp, but he was slowly beginning to understand after hanging around Alex. "I never saw it worth it when I used to do theatre in school..."

"Its SO worth it. If you somehow ever get into theatre again, you need to try it."

He pursed his lips and nodded at her. "I'll keep that noted." He didn't say it with conviction, but Alex knew he was seriously considering what she said. He got this sort of look on his face whenever he was deep in thought, and he currently was wearingly it proudly.

"So Alex..." Scott rang out. "Have you seen any of the photos posted?"

The blonde girl cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean? From today?"

He shook his head and shot a glance over to Brandon. Brandon looked towards Oliver. Everyone else stared at her. It shot a slight feeling of fear into her heart. "No. From yesterday. So many have been posting." Scott turned his glace from Brandon towards Oliver in a way that lacked confidence. "About you guys."

"What the hell did we do?" Oliver blurted out.

"Everyone thinks you guys went on a date or something." Julia added in, reaching for her phone and pulling up twitter. She passed the phone off to Alex with a resigned look on her face. "There's also a ton of the performance, obviously, despite there being a no recording rule."

This didn't surprise Alex. Bootlegs were inevitable, especially when the productions are so hit and miss like hers were. You never knew when you'd see her perform next, so everybody wanted to get that chance to see it, legally or not.

Oliver grumbled "Uhg. People don't know how to respect the rules of musical theatre."

Just as he did so, the food arrived at the table along with whatever fancy drinks everybody had ordered. Everything had taken awhile to be prepared, and by the looks of it, the drink are what took a long time to craft. One of them was this pink concoction with cotton candy layered on top. It didn't look appealing to Alex, but Julia accepted it gracefully.

The group all began eating their meals and the scent of food wafted through the air. It was peaceful and Alex really appreciated the small moments she got alone with friends. Her small circle was slowly growing bigger as she looked around at the gathering of people before her.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Brandon questioned, sliding his phone across the table. It held an image of Oliver and Alex sitting together at dinner last night. They looked so quaint and small sitting at the tables with their food sat in front of them. So domestic.

"What is there to do? Am I supposed to pay to get it removed or something?" She replied, analyzing the photo. "We were just having dinner. What are they even saying?"

A smirk spread across Brandon's face. "They're calling it a nightly escape. It makes it sound magical in a way, but obviously everyone is calling it a date."

Alex made a face as if she was smelling something disgusting. "It wasn't a date." She shot her eyes over to Oliver as if he could fix this. "What am I supposed to do?"

He raised an eyebrow before picking up his glass. "Usually if you just ignore these things, they go away." He took a sip. Alex wondered how he felt about this situation. Did he care that people thought Alex was interested in him? She wasn't, at least not like that. He was becoming one of her good friends. She liked to talk to him, but it wasn't like that.

Although, she did like the way his eyes glistened in the sun. They reminded her of swimming pools chalk with silver specks of glitter that shone as the light hit it, reflecting all of the different hues and colors hidden beneath his usually brooding gaze. They were beautiful.

But Alex didn't have time for romance. No, instead she was focused on her career. Whatever that was going to be.

"I'm not usually good at ignoring things." She finally said after coming out of her trance. She handed the phone back to Brandon. "Hey, listen, I'm not either. If you need to scream about it, I'm here" Julia added in.

"It's just so weird! You'd think they'd at least reach out for a comment. They'd twist that anyway, but it'd give me the decency to at least speak."

She nodded along with her. "Right! And maybe, if you reached out to the right people, they wont twist your words. You know, there are a lot of smaller reporters you could reach out to correct the record with."

She stopped and thought about it. She was more fond of people with less power, less following, and less reach. It always meant they still had their morals intact, along with their integrity. A lot of people in the field of journalism seemed to lack the understanding that celebrities are people, and this was something Alex understood even before she was famous.

She watched as the people she idolized were tore into by the media, and how it's genuinely hurt them. She very quickly picked up that it was a cut-throat industry. She didn't need personal experience to know how bad the paparazzi's were, or how cruel the legacy media could be.

"You're right about that, but what would I even say? 'Hey, actually it wasn't a date? I just hang out with him after suddenly hating him'? Who would believe that?"

Oliver looked over towards her again. "It's the truth, isn't it?"

He had put her on the spot. Sure, it was the truth, but it lacked any substance of the story behind how she started to hang out with him. Her head injury was important to the story, she thought. "Yeah, but... I don't know." She scratched the back of her neck. She couldn't find the words. She'd have to reveal everything.

And at this point... why shouldn't she? What was stopping her? She pondered on the thought. "I guess, if I did, I'd have to reveal a lot about myself that I've never told the public before."

This made a lot of the heads at the table perk up, including Oliver. He passed his eyes over her for a moment before looking down at his sandwich. "I'm staying here because I've got a head injury."

A wave of chatter washed over the table and a few of the cast members handed over money. "What's this?" Alex chatted out. Scott was the first to reply. "We bet that you wouldn't tell us before next month."

Alex shook her head. "You made a wager against whether or not I'd tell you if I had a head injury? You don't hear how morbid that sounds?"

Dex looked up towards her. "I thought it was obvious. You knew what you were doing but you still seem a bit woozy compared to other performances." Scott nodded in agreement at her statement. Dex had played Martha in the musical, so she trusted her judgement. She worked hard on her piece and likely picked up on her attitude during the production.

She'd never admit to them that it was because she was on drugs, however.

"I know. People have been talking about it online for weeks. I don't know how to get them off my tail. I've gotta ask you guys to keep this strictly between us. I want to be able to tell my story on my own one day."

"Of course." Scott replied. "You wont hear a peep out of my mouth."

"Thank you. There's just so many rumors and articles being written about me, I'd at least like the chance to represent myself. My PR team can only do so much..."

Oliver smirked towards her.

"What?" she asked.

"Have you read your contract yet?"

She look down at the food in front of her. She hadn't, but she knew there was no way she'd sign her life away. Fame was great, but not THAT great. "No, but I don't need to. I know they can't restrict my access. I'll annoy them til' they let me."

"You don't think they'll drop you?" Julia queried. Alexandria didn't have an answer to this question. Maybe they would but isn't that the better option than staying under strict management? She shot a glance over towards Oliver who had continued eating his food.

He had provided a lot, and Alex felt bad relying on him so heavily. Would he be willing to also provide her with PR had a fallout ever occurred? The thought chilled her to the bone, being this fully reliant on this man she'd began to get to know over these past couple of months. Alex from a couple of years ago would despise that thought.

But the Alex from now wasn't as perturbed as she thought she'd be. It unsettled her a bit, the thought that he could just revoke access at the drop of a hat, or the fact that he could have a completely different perspective on her career than Alex did, but it also settled her in a way she hadn't expected. She trusted him. She knew him, and lived so closely with him.

She took her eyes away from him and back down towards her own plate of food.

* * *

Sitting back in her room, Alex was met with a load of messages across her phone screen. What was going on? It lit up like a Christmas tree on the 4th of July. She actively stopped herself to thing about her phrasing on that. Why are Christmas tree's up in July? Who the hell knew!

She was so busy focusing on the lunch with her friends that she hadn't noticed the bunches of Twitter notification, and the Instagram tags, and her entire PR management team reaching out to her, not just Greg. On top of this, she had loads of friends questioning her if she was okay?

What the hell had happened here? Alex scrolled through her messages before landing on Greg. She scrolled through them. Something about Everette? She didn't understand. She clicked the little phone icon next to Greg name and put it on speaker phone.

It rang one. Twice. Three times, and then Greg picked up. "Alexandria, what the hell is going on?" the voice rang out. She could hear the sound of traffic on the other line. "That's actually what I was going to ask you. I don't understand. What's happening?"

"You can't date Everette. This is all bad PR. I thought we've talked about this in the past? What is going on at that hotel? Is he there with you now?"

The question felt prying. Who were they to dictate her life, even if she were to date Everette, they cant possibly have a say. "Okay, multiple things. First off, I'll need a copy of my contract by the end of the day."

"Okay, what do you need that for?"

Alex cleared her throat. "Second thing. I've got a head injury. Amnesia. I can't remember anything. So, you telling me about conversations we've had before is useless."

The line went dead quiet. "Are you okay?"

She blew out a breath of air she had been holding. "I am now. I'm at the Haven hotel. First the hospital there, and now a suite."

"What was the diagnosis?"

Another prying question. She didn't need to answer that, but at this point, she felt so isolated that she was beginning to want to tell everyone. She had a taste at lunch, and she couldn't help herself.

"It's retrograde. I should regain my memories soon, but it's a gradual process. Doctors are saying it can last as long as two years, but I'm already starting to get memories back after two and a half months, so I don't think it'll be that long at all."

Silence again. She could physically hear Greg processing everything she was saying. "So then, let me just rerun what I've told you about Everette in the past. People hate him. With a fire-y passion. He's not a good person, and he's involved in many illicit activities. It actively lowers your sales and reputation every time you hang around him. You came to me saying the only way you'd stay away was if we'd hold you to the standard of not seeing him."

She threw her head back. That actually did sound like something she'd say. She was an idiot. "Well, I'm not dating him"

"That's not what he's saying online"

Alexandria shot up straight. "What do you mean?" She rushed over towards her bed where her laptop was lying and flung it open to Twitter. She scrolled through what people were saying, and it was vitriolic. It was Everette announcing their relationship with the photo from when she kissed his cheek. He was spreading it further on fan forums.

What an asshole!

"Never mind. I see it. What am I supposed to do about this? I'm NOT dating him."

Greg faltered for a moment. "What about that other guy?"

"Who, Oliver? Hell no!"

She could actively hear Greg choking on his own words. "No! The black man you did the show with."

She paused. Brandon?! She couldn't date him. He was gay, and they were just friends. "I can't. He's..."

Greg hugged on the other line. "We don't have many options. You could try to spin it yourself, but from behind the scenes, there isn't much we can do."

Alexandria sighed. "Thanks, Greg. Let me try to figure this out."

She hung up the phone and stared deeply at her laptop. She hadn't even changed out of her dress before she was stalking her iCloud for photos. She had a slight plan, but she wasn't sure if she could put it into action without evidence.

She had the plan to expose him. If she knew herself (and she did), then she kept documentation of every time Everette laid his hands on her. She looked over at her phone and frowned. She should probably tell Oliver about this.

She genuinely cared about his opinion, and she trusted his judgement when it came to the industry. He was so deeply ingrained in it, and dictated a lot of what happened. He was apart of the elites, and Alex was just there, under his wing. She grabbed her phone and typed out a message asking him to come to her room.

By the time he had arrived, Alex had found the photos. She also found copious amounts of fighting videos she didn't remember. This was likely the truth behind the rumors Oliver had told her. They were true.

He was wearing his usual black slacks but he dawned a navy blue turtleneck shirt. He looked good, she thought. She shook that away as she focused on the photos before her. Oliver looked over at her worried face, and noticed the way she knitted her brows when she was upset.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Everette." Alexandria shot out. She said his name like it was poison on her lips, needing to reject all aspects of it for it might infect her. "He's saying we're a couple. He's only doing this because he got kicked out of the event. I should have just talked to him. This is all my fault."

Oliver shook his head and walked over towards the bench on the end of her bed, taking a seat. "Don't say that."

"Why? It's true. Maybe if I had just talked to him, he wouldn't be so aggressive about his approach."

Oliver dropped his jaw. "Do you hear yourself?"

She put her head in her hands. "I know. I'm such an idiot."

He reached to put a hand on her shoulder. It was warm and moist, like his hands had been sweaty. She accepted the skin-to-skin contact. "It's not your fault. He needs to learn the word 'No.'"

Alex stopped for a minute. "I want to expose him."

Oliver's eyes almost seemed to light up. "How?"

"I've got all these photos from when we were together. Bruises and black eyes, and journal entries from that time period. I could piece together a timeline and write it all out. I'd post it as the description on Instagram and Twitter and I'd post it with the photos. I think it'd get the message across to the world that we aren't dating, or at the very least, that I agree he's a bad guy."

Alex had already read tons of abuse resources online for those looking to escape. She remembered reading the statistics of the women killed, and had been thankful that it wasn't her. She had gotten lucky, she told herself.

She also read this thing about having to leave your abuser a certain amount of times before you're truly able to break free from the abuse. Alex didn't know how many times she'd tried to leave, but this would at LEAST be the second. Would it always be this hard? The articles she read told her 'no'.

She took a breath in and sighed. "It's been a very long day. Do you think we could have a smoke?"

Oliver looked down towards her dress. "In that?"

She looked down and begun to shake her head side to side. "No, I need to change real quick."

"You do that and I'll go grab the joints."

Alex nodded and quickly get up to head towards her closet. She made her way out of her dress and hung it up in the big bag it came in. She was careful not to rip any of the backing of the dress as she removed it. She worked her shoes off of her feet and stumbled as she put on a pair of socks.

The air was starting to get chilly out. She kept this in mind as she threw on a white tank top and paired it with some Koroppi themed pajama pants and tossed on a hoodie. She could remove it later before bed.

She much favored comfort over style, and had slowly intertwined the two. A tank top with a fashionable skirt. A cute fancy shirt with casual boyfriend jeans. A dress with an ugly gaudy hand bag. It was her style. But tonight she pushed all the way into comfort. She walked out of the closet and sat down on the couch outside.

The air smelled pungent of petrichor and smog, but she didn't mind it at this point. It just meant that rain was going to be coming their way soon. She could smell a vendor below selling some sort of pretzel. Audibly she could hear kids laughing below and having a ball of a time. They were all living.

She stood up and walked back towards her bed to grab her journal. She brought it into her palm and was searching for a pencil as Oliver made his way back into the room. "You ready?" he called out. He was asking as if they were scheming for some plot, and she was his In-Man. Side by side in tandem as they mischiefed their way through life together.

"Obviously. I'm just grabbing my journal. I want to write some poetry."

He nodded and headed outside, Alex following hot in pursuit. "So, seriously. Where do you get this stuff? Is this the celebrity weed they always talk about?"

Oliver's smile reached the corners of his cheeks as he sat down. "Celebrity weed. I've heard you say that before. What even is that?"

Many thoughts raced across her head, like, why couldn't he ever just give a straight answer? Did he always have to be so difficult? What do you mean 'What is celebrity weed' obviously it's celebrity weed. What a silly question, she thought to herself.

"That's a silly question" She verbalized. "It's obviously celebrity weed. Like, the really good stuff that you always hear people talking about."

"Alex, I don't think that stuff has existed since the 80's or 90's. Most of the older strains have been bred out. Not all of them, obviously, but we don't have the same hippie weed we used to."

She frowned. That was less fun. "But you think it's better than Everette's weed?"

"I know it's better" he said handing it to her. "I don't know why you trusted him anyways. He could be lacing that stuff with god knows what."

"So could you" She pointed out, physically with her hands. She motioned towards him in a mocking manner. "Yeah, but I don't. I have a guy who grows for me, by the way. In Amsterdam."

Alex gasped. "That IS really good weed"

"I know" He smirked again and let out a giggle that reverberated off his chest cavity. He had been doing that a lot. Alex wasn't the best at deciphering body language, but she had started to learn his. Not on purpose, mind you, but just through innate nature. She had been around him so much.

She liked when he laughed. It made her smile, too.

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mightyaphrodytee · 4 months

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MY FIRST VISIT TO FLORIDA, January 1995, Palm Beach

Dad’s funeral, the whirlwind of seeing Rachel and Keelan for the first time in 12 years, absorbing the loss even as I felt no true grief for the man, only grief for a wound that would now never be healed, grief that my daughter lost a POTENTIAL actual grandfather—the last she had, staying in THAT HOUSE/MANSION IN PALM SPRINGS, Boz being shattered, Karina and Dorothy and Walter and their grief, the Ireland of it all being SO HEAVY, how warm and sunny it was even in late January, the High Catholicism funeral in the cathedral complete with incense and me (ME!) being asked to do a READING of some selected…scripture?—must’ve been, I can’t remember because honestly, it was all too much. Two days. Not enough yet too much all at once.

Yes I’m haunted but I’m feeling just fine

FLORIDA!!!

SECOND VISIT TO FLORIDA: April 1997, Orlando

With James, to Disney World and Universal Studios, Clay has a condo for us, surprise! Clay’s already there! I’ll pay for all the admission to everywhere if you just pay for your flight, DEAL!, being dependent on a cane, in constant pain while weight-bearing but my dr had not yet figured out what it was, seeing Rachel again under much better circumstances, light recreational drug use while partying with James and Clay and Rachel on whatever island that was, late at night, everybody drunk, we were drunk, Rachel and Clay hitting it off and dancing with a hundred other people VERY SUGGESTIVELY, and James’s subsequent meltdown over Clay wanting to be somehow sexual with A WOMAN and he’s a whore and on and on and then the next day sober acting like it never happened because nothing whatsoever happened between Rachel and Clay omg, going on all the rides before everybody else, no standing in line, because I was LITERALLY CANE DEPENDENT, the sensory overload, it was all 100% amazing and I was very sad to leave.

This was the first significant amount of time I got to hang with Rachel, and I fell in love. Sisters!

I have some regrets

I’ll bury them in

FLORIDA!!!

THIRD VISIT TO FLORIDA: November 1999, Palm Beach, Rachel’s wedding

Drunk, emotional, fabulous experience that felt like living through a hurricane. Of feelings! The Palm Beach Hotel, the spa at the PGA Gardens, the last day brunch on the beach when it was cloudy and drizzly and windy, the rehearsal dinner at that dope restaurant on Worth Avenue, the party at the Phippsberger’s with Inigo spraying tequila into my open mouth with a spray bottle and drunk driving golf carts around the estate, Boz in a cow suit (!!!), talking to Walter and getting some details about Dad’s childhood, feeling very Irish, very Butler heavy, Marie getting so hammered she fell down on the pavement (which, boy do I retroactively empathize with how bad that must’ve hurt), that chat with Jeannie about Dad omg, Miranda’s blossoming beauty that was definitely attractive to boys, the fun she had being a bridesmaid, her and Blanaid’s instant connection, that awful Patrick, getting high with Keelan at the reception in the tall hedges in front of Dad’s memorial tree, that friend of Dad’s who sat at our table and upon learning who I was, informed me that my father hadn’t been married prior to his marriage to Rachel’s mom, with such audacity and authority, my polite yet forceful recitation of the fact that I was, in fact, Jim’s oldest biological DAUGHTER and oh btw this girl next to me is his ONLY GRANDCHILD SO FAR, and him taking a moment to process, then saying ohhhhh, New York. Yeah, asshole, I thought. NEW YORK. After that he realized who we were, asked about Jay, and kissed our asses for hours. Hilarious. A fever dream. Joy and sorrow and gratitude and love all in one chaotic three-day weekend.

It’s one hell of a drug

FLORIDA!!!

FOURTH VISIT TO FLORIDA: March 2001, Daytona Bike Week

Wild veer between severely traumatic and utterly blissful. Met Lisa <3 Day. Loved her. Fran and Ron ditto. The other Ron, the one who gave us his cat before he retired. Waking and baking (except my husband.) Copious quantities of alcohol. Too much alcohol, as it turned out. The 10 pills, the hate in my heart for my husband, the ambulance, the ER, the coldness he displayed towards me for the rest of the trip despite knowing HE was the reason I kinda wanted to die and which he continued for a few days after we got home, as per usual. Passive-aggressive fuckery. One hell of a drug, charcoal is.

Tell me I’m despicable

Say it’s unforgivable

FLORIDA!!!

FIFTH VISIT TO FLORIDA: the very next month, April 2001

Orlando, West Palm, Palm Beach, Cocoa Beach, Julie and Sharon and Lisa Day (again!), in Cocoa Beach when the weather was so bad the wind was whipping the sand straight into our FACES, rendering sitting on the beach impossible (we joked it was free microdermabrasion to make us feel better that the one day we had all together was under such shitty weather), getting drunk instead and ordering takeout from Denny’s the next morning, hungover as fuck, Rachel and baby Liam, her husband basically ripping me off for $50 by taking my money to go get me weed, never to be heard from again), getting cafe con leches and Cuban sandwiches with Keelan, madness, escapism, all manner of substance abuse (just weed and alcohol, but some of the drinks and liquor store runs produced some increasingly complex cocktails), desperately delaying my return to real life, which was circling the drain back home, the dread was a physical thing I felt every single minute, but thankfully cell phones were limited, we didn’t have any, but still…and yet. Control was exerted and I submitted and went home strictly because I love my daughter.

So you pack your life away

Just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas

FLORIDA!!!

And I’ve never been back. It all seems like a fever dream of colors and heightened emotions and hotel rooms and mansions and a hurricane with my name and me and my ghosts and laying to rest all the bodies that had been on my body and barricading myself in the bathroom with a bottle of wine, check, check, check.

#florida!!!#talk about resonating with a song #true stories

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therewillbeanawakening · 2 years

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i should probably talk about how my week has been, bc goddamn it sure has been a week.

earlier, i’d convinced myself i absolutely had to go to a concert bc “if i don’t i’ll never get better” (my trauma occurred at a concert). so convinced was i that this would be the thing that finally fixed me that i agreed to go to two concerts in the space of two days. and i was super nervous in the days leading up to them, afraid that either something would go horribly wrong for the band or the audience or i would freak out while there and ruin everything, but then they went well! sure it was scary, but i found ways to push through and ended up enjoying myself a lot and nothing went wrong like the last time. and i was riding that emotional high for a weekend, so proud of myself for facing my fears.

then i crashed hard.

it started when i went back to work, already feeling a bit anxious, and accidentally pulled a receipt out of my bag that turned out to be from the day of the trauma. then i felt a huge amount of guilt and regret for having gone to the concerts - i could have caused something bad to happen by being there, argued my mind. how could i be so selfish and endanger everyone just because i wanted to have fun? i kept spiraling into more and more irrational thoughts over the course of a couple days and a few unrelated issues from my personal life got roped into it, and it culminated in me breaking down screaming and sobbing in my car at work. i asked my boss to let me leave early (something I'd never done before even when things got really bad) and she reacted with largely indifference. gee thanks, joy, sure i may be leaving bc I'm scared I'll hurt myself if i don't get myself to a more comfortable place asap but of course the most important thing is whether or not I'll be able to finish my work. it is a net gain for this world that you are retiring soon. but she did let me leave, and i was able to stabilize myself at the therapy session i coincidentally already had planned for that afternoon.

it may be over for the most part but god that freaked me out so bad. i thought I was getting better at handling my bad moments, but i guess i wasn't ready for one like this. and I know people at work are noticing the way my emotions have been affected, i'm jumpy and irritable and i know i'm a mess but i don't know how to make them understand that i don't want to be this way, bc i don't want to have to tell them all my issues either. i may be going on meds, hopefully only temporarily bc I'm very scared of negative side effects but it might be what I need to get past this part of my life. I'll let you know what my doctor says about it, I've asked her if we can discuss the pros and cons. what a life I've found myself in, huh

#actually ptsd #ptsd #therewillbeapost #self harm mention

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rammwhy · 2 years

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New York Kiss | cc!Jschlatt drabble

summary: You and Schlatt go out for a drive and some pizza, and it leads to something more.

pairing: cc!Schlatt x gn!reader

tags/warnings: technically consensual but non-verbal? not sure if that warrants a warning but just in case :) | fluff

notes: first fic I've written in a very long time and first fic ever posted on tumblr! I've just been reading a lot of schlatt drabbles lately and wanted to write one myself! The ending feels a bit rushed imo, but I'm still pretty proud of this.

Inspired by the song New York Kiss by Spoon. Also, the bonus at the end is purely just crack entertainment, take it as you will lol

words: 721

New York kiss.

Kinda cliche, huh? I never imagined this would happen; that I would be here, underneath the neon signs, kissing you in the night.

You, my best friend and roommate of 3 years. The guy I never thought I would get along with, because I thought you were so brash and loud and rude--and you were. Honestly I only ever put up with you because Ted liked you, and you happened to have a spare room.

But then I learned about you.

You, who sends an incessant amount of gibbon monkey videos at 3 in the morning, just because you like them and you think I'll like them too. You, who always gets so excited when someone matches you in Mario kart, no matter how much you pride yourself in being the "drift king." You, who drove all the way out in the dead of the night to come pick me up when I was scared and alone, who listens to me ramble about the most trivial things, who gives the warmest hugs when all I can feel is the cold, who lets me know that I'm enough.

You, you, you.

All I can feel is you.

You're gentle when you kiss me, lips soft and slow with your hand lightly caressing my face. It's like you're scared to hurt me--like you're cradling a delicate flower in your hands. Needless to say, a stark contrast from how you present yourself.

This wasn't supposed to happen. We were visiting your home city, that was it; a fun vacation with the rest of the group. Ted and Charlie were back at the airbnb, saying they were too tired to go out and do anything else. But I was bored and hungry, and we still hadn't gone to that pizza place you love so much. So, you being you, took me out for a late night drive.

Spoon and alt-j played in the background as we talked and talked until all I could think about was how happy you make me. Even when there was a lull in the conversation, we were comfortable and content, just sitting in each other's presence as we passed mundane streetlights. Talks like these were what I loved most.

And then we were here--stomachs full of classic New York pizza as we walked beneath the neon signs. After much arguing and bickering (and a few annoyed looks from the restaurant owner), we split the bill and scurried out of the place, giggling like a couple of high schoolers. What we found so funny I'll never really know, but we were drunk with joy, and that was enough.

We did what we came here for, but neither of us wanted to leave just yet. So, we walked. And as we walked, I noticed you had a soft look in your eyes; one that would grow and twinkle whenever you laughed. I was... enamoured, to say the least. And, maybe it showed, because you stopped walking and took my hand, and I looked up into your eyes.

I don't know what it was--a spark, a snap--but without even saying a word, we both just knew.

And then you kissed me. And I kissed you.

Bonus:

When you and Schlatt had come back to the airbnb, completely lovesick and hand in hand, the first thing Charlie and Ted did was... well, yell.

"Wow, took you long en-oH MY GOD!" Charlie exclaimed, pointing at your joined hands in shock? Fear? Excitement?

The two of you quickly pulled away, wincing at the sheer volume your friend had just produced. The both of you, having been so caught up in the initial romance of it all, hadn't quite decided how to tell the boys--if at all.

Charlie seemed to have decided for you, though.

"What is with the yelling?" Ted asked, making his way to the entrance and seeing Charlie pointing between you and Schlatt. "What are you pointing at?" All that came out of Charlie's mouth were incoherent exclamations, accompanied by more jabbing of his finger towards you two.

"THEM?? HANDS??? WHAAAA????" He managed to say, though barely understandable. Ted, however, was a fairly observant man. Processing Charlie's words, aggressive finger jutting, and the singular hands behind each of your backs, he let out a gasp.

"YOU GUYS ARE DATING?"

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 4 years

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“Elliot Page doesn’t remember exactly how long he had been asking.

But he does remember the acute feeling of triumph when, around age 9, he was finally allowed to cut his hair short. “I felt like a boy,” Page says. “I wanted to be a boy. I would ask my mom if I could be someday.” Growing up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Page visualized himself as a boy in imaginary games, freed from the discomfort of how other people saw him: as a girl. After the haircut, strangers finally started perceiving him the way he saw himself, and it felt both right and exciting.

The joy was short-lived. Months later, Page got his first break, landing a part as a daughter in a Canadian mining family in the TV movie Pit Pony. He wore a wig for the film, and when Pit Pony became a TV show, he grew his hair out again. “I became a professional actor at the age of 10,” Page says. And pursuing that passion came with a difficult compromise. “Of course I had to look a certain way.”

We are speaking in late February. It is the first interview Page, 34, has given since disclosing in December that he is transgender, in a heartfelt letter posted to Instagram, and he is crying before I have even uttered a question. “Sorry, I’m going to be emotional, but that’s cool, right?” he says, smiling through his tears.

It’s hard for him to talk about the days that led up to that disclosure. When I ask how he was feeling, he looks away, his neck exposed by a new short haircut. After a pause, he presses his hand to his heart and closes his eyes. “This feeling of true excitement and deep gratitude to have made it to this point in my life,” he says, “mixed with a lot of fear and anxiety.”

It’s not hard to understand why a trans person would be dealing with conflicting feelings in this moment. Increased social acceptance has led to more young people describing themselves as trans—1.8% of Gen Z compared with 0.2% of boomers, according to a recent Gallup poll—yet this has fueled conservatives who are stoking fears about a “transgender craze.” President Joe Biden has restored the right of transgender military members to serve openly, and in Hollywood, trans people have never had more meaningful time onscreen. Meanwhile, J.K. Rowling is leveraging her cultural capital to oppose transgender equality in the name of feminism, and lawmakers are arguing in the halls of Congress over the validity of gender identities. “Sex has become a political football in the culture wars,” says Chase Strangio, deputy director for transgender justice at the ACLU.

(Full article with photos continued under the “read more”)

And so Page—who charmed America as a precocious pregnant teenager in Juno, constructed dreamscapes in Inception and now stars in Netflix’s hit superhero show The Umbrella Academy, the third season of which he’s filming in Toronto—expected that his news would be met with both applause and vitriol. “What I was anticipating was a lot of support and love and a massive amount of hatred and transphobia,” says Page. “That’s essentially what happened.” What he did not anticipate was just how big this story would be. Page’s announcement, which made him one of the most famous out trans people in the world, started trending on Twitter in more than 20 countries. He gained more than 400,000 new followers on Instagram on that day alone. Thousands of articles were published. Likes and shares reached the millions. Right-wing podcasters readied their rhetoric about “women in men’s locker rooms.” Casting directors reached out to Page’s manager saying it would be an honor to cast Page in their next big movie.

So, it was a lot. Over the course of two conversations, Page will say that understanding himself in all the specifics remains a work in progress. Fathoming one’s gender, an identity innate and performed, personal and social, fixed and evolving, is complicated enough without being under a spotlight that never seems to turn off. But having arrived at a critical juncture, Page feels a deep sense of responsibility to share his truth. “Extremely influential people are spreading these myths and damaging rhetoric—every day you’re seeing our existence debated,” Page says. “Transgender people are so very real.”

That role in Pit Pony led to other productions and eventually, when Page was 16, to a film called Mouth to Mouth. Playing a young anarchist, Page had a chance to cut his hair again. This time, he shaved it off completely. The kids at his high school teased him, but in photos he has posted from that time on social media he looks at ease. Page’s head was still shaved when he mailed in an audition tape for the 2005 thriller Hard Candy. The people in charge of casting asked him to audition again in a wig. Soon, the hair was back.

Page’s tour de force performance in Hard Candy led, two years later, to Juno, a low-budget indie film that brought Page Oscar, BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations and sudden megafame. The actor, then 21, struggled with the stresses of that ascension. The endless primping, red carpets and magazine spreads were all agonizing reminders of the disconnect between how the world saw Page and who he knew himself to be. “I just never recognized myself,” Page says. “For a long time I could not even look at a photo of myself.” It was difficult to watch the movies too, especially ones in which he played more feminine roles.

Page loved making movies, but he also felt alienated by Hollywood and its standards. Alia Shawkat, a close friend and co-star in 2009’s Whip It,describes all the attention from Juno as scarring. “He had a really hard time with the press and expectations,” Shawkat says. “‘Put this on! And look this way! And this is sexy!’”

By the time he appeared in blockbusters like X-Men: The Last Stand and Inception, Page was suffering from depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He didn’t know, he says, “how to explain to people that even though [I was] an actor, just putting on a T-shirt cut for a woman would make me so unwell.” Shawkat recalls Page’s struggles with clothes. “I’d be like, ‘Hey, look at all these nice outfits you’re getting,’ and he would say, ‘It’s not me. It feels like a costume,’” she says. Page tried to convince himself that he was fine, that someone who was fortunate enough to have made it shouldn’t have complaints. But he felt exhausted by the work required to “just exist,” and thought more than once about quitting acting.

In 2014, Page came out as gay, despite feeling for years that “being out was impossible” given his career. (Gender identity and sexual orientation are, of course, distinct, but one queer identity can coexist with another.) In an emotional speech at a Human Rights Campaign conference, Page talked about being part of an industry “that places crushing standards” on actors and viewers alike. “There are pervasive stereotypes about masculinity and femininity that define how we’re all supposed to act, dress and speak,” Page went on. “And they serve no one.”

The actor started wearing suits on the red carpet. He found love, marrying choreographer Emma Portner in 2018. He asserted more agency in his career, producing his own films with LGBTQ leads like Freeheld and My Days of Mercy. And he made a masculine wardrobe a condition of taking roles. Yet the daily discord was becoming unbearable. “The difference in how I felt before coming out as gay to after was massive,” says Page. “But did the discomfort in my body ever go away? No, no, no, no.”

In part, it was the isolation forced by the pandemic that brought to a head Page’s wrestling with gender. (Page and Portner separated last summer, and the two divorced in early 2021. “We’ve remained close friends,” Page says.) “I had a lot of time on my own to really focus on things that I think, in so many ways, unconsciously, I was avoiding,” he says. He was inspired by trailblazing trans icons like Janet Mock and Laverne Cox, who found success in Hollywood while living authentically. Trans writers helped him understand his feelings; Page saw himself reflected in P. Carl’s memoir Becoming a Man. Eventually “shame and discomfort” gave way to revelation. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” Page says, “and letting myself fully become who I am.”

This led to a series of decisions. One was asking the world to call him by a different name, Elliot, which he says he’s always liked. Page has a tattoo that says E.P. PHONE HOME, a reference to a movie about a young boy with that name. “I loved E.T. when I was a kid and always wanted to look like the boys in the movies, right?” he says. The other decision was to use different pronouns—for the record, both he/him and they/them are fine. (When I ask if he has a preference on pronouns for the purposes of this story, Page says, “He/him is great.”)

A day before we first speak, Page will talk to his mom about this interview and she will tell him, “I’m just so proud of my son.” He grows emotional relating this and tries to explain that his mom, the daughter of a minister, who was born in the 1950s, was always trying to do what she thought was best for her child, even if that meant encouraging young Page to act like a girl. “She wants me to be who I am and supports me fully,” Page says. “It is a testament to how people really change.”

Another decision was to get top surgery. Page volunteers this information early in our conversation; at the time he posted his disclosure on Instagram, he was recovering in Toronto. Like many trans people, Page emphasizes being trans isn’t all about surgery. For some people, it’s unnecessary. For others, it’s unaffordable. For the wider world, the media’s focus on it has sensationalized transgender bodies, inviting invasive and inappropriate questions. But Page describes surgery as something that, for him, has made it possible to finally recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, providing catharsis he’s been waiting for since the “total hell” of puberty. “It has completely transformed my life,” he says. So much of his energy was spent on being uncomfortable in his body, he says. Now he has that energy back.

For the transgender community at large, visibility does not automatically lead to acceptance. Around the globe, transgender people deal disproportionately with violence and discrimination. Anti-trans hate crimes are on the rise in the U.K. along with increasingly transphobic rhetoric in newspapers and tabloids. In the U.S., in addition to the perennial challenges trans people face with issues like poverty and homelessness, a flurry of bills in state legislatures would make it a crime to provide transition-related medical care to trans youth. And crass old jokes are still in circulation. When Biden lifted the ban on open service for transgender troops, Saturday Night Live’s Michael Che did a bit on Weekend Update about the policy being called “don’t ask, don’t tuck.”

Page says coming out as trans was “selfish” on one level: “It’s for me. I want to live and be who I am.” But he also felt a moral imperative to do so, given the times. Human identity is complicated and mysterious, but politics insists on fitting everything into boxes. In today’s culture wars, simplistic beliefs about gender—e.g., chromosomes = destiny—are so widespread and so deep-seated that many people who hold those beliefs don’t feel compelled to consider whether they might be incomplete or prejudiced. On Feb. 24, after a passionate debate on legislation that would ban discrimination against LGBTQ people, Representative Marie Newman, an Illinois Democrat, proudly displayed the pride flag in support of her daughter, who is trans. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Georgia Republican, responded by hanging a poster outside her office that read: There are TWO genders: MALE & FEMALE.

The next day Dr. Rachel Levine, who stands to become the first openly transgender federal official confirmed by the Senate, endured a tirade from Senator Rand Paul about “genital mutilation” during her confirmation hearing. My second conversation with Page happens shortly after this. He brings it up almost immediately, and seems both heartbroken and determined. He wants to emphasize that top surgery, for him, was “not only life-changing but lifesaving.” He implores people to educate themselves about trans lives, to learn how crucial medical care can be, to understand that lack of access to it is one of the many reasons that an estimated 41% of transgender people have attempted suicide, according to one survey.

Page has been in the political trenches for a while, having leaned into progressive activism after coming out as queer in 2014. For two seasons, he and best friend Ian Daniel filmed Gaycation, a Viceland series that explored LGBTQ culture around the world and, at one point, showed Page grilling Senator Ted Cruz at the Iowa State Fair about discrimination against queer people. In 2019, Page made a documentary called There’s Something in the Water, which explores environmental hardships experienced by communities of color in Nova Scotia, with $350,000 of his own money. That activism extends to his own industry: in 2017, he published a Facebook post that, among other things, accused director Brett Ratner of forcibly outing him as gay on the set of an X-Men movie. (A representative for Ratner did not respond to a request for comment.)

As a trans person who is white, wealthy and famous, Page has a unique kind of privilege, and with it an opportunity to advocate for those with less. According to the U.S. Trans Survey, a large-scale report from 2015, transgender people of color are more likely to experience unemployment, harassment by police and refusals of medical care. Nearly half of all Black respondents reported being denied equal treatment, verbally harassed and/or physically attacked in the past year. Trans people as a group fare much worse on such stats than the general population. “My privilege has allowed me to have resources to get through and to be where I am today,” Page says, “and of course I want to use that privilege and platform to help in the ways I can.”

Since his disclosure, Page has been mostly quiet on social media. One exception has been to tweet on behalf of the ACLU, which is in the midst of fighting anti-trans bills and laws around the country, including those that ban transgender girls and women from participating in sports. Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves says he will sign such a bill in the name of “protect[ing] young girls.” Page played competitive soccer and vividly recalls the agony of being told he would have to play on the girls’ team once he aged out of mixed-gender squads. After an appeal, Page was allowed to play with the boys for an additional year. Today, several bills list genitalia as a requirement for deciding who plays on which team. “I would have been in that position as a kid,” Page says. “It’s horrific.”

All this advocacy is unlikely to make life easier. “You can’t enter into certain spaces as a public trans person,” says the ACLU’s Strangio, “without being prepared to spend some percentage of your life being threatened and harassed.” Yet, while he seems overwhelmed at times, Page is also eager. Many of the political attacks on trans people—whether it is a mandate that bathroom use be determined by birth sex, a blanket ban on medical interventions for trans kids or the suggestion that trans men are simply wayward women beguiled by male privilege—carry the same subtext: that trans people are mistaken about who they are. “We know who we are,” Page says. “People cling to these firm ideas [about gender] because it makes people feel safe. But if we could just celebrate all the wonderful complexities of people, the world would be such a better place.”

Even if Page weren’t vocal, his public presence would communicate something powerful. That is in part because of what Paisley Currah, a professor of political science at Brooklyn College, calls “visibility gaps.” Historically, trans women have been more visible, in culture and in Hollywood, than trans men. There are many explanations: Our culture is obsessed with femininity. Men’s bodies are less policed and scrutinized. Patriarchal people tend to get more emotional about who is considered to be in the same category as their daughters. “And a lot of trans men don’t stand out as trans,” says Currah, who is a trans man himself. “I think we’ve taken up less of the public’s attention because masculinity is sort of the norm.”

During our interviews, Page will repeatedly refer to himself as a “transgender guy.” He also calls himself nonbinary and queer, but for him, transmasculinity is at the center of the conversation right now. “It’s a complicated journey,” he says, “and an ongoing process.”

While the visibility gap means that trans men have been spared some of the hate endured by trans women, it has also meant that people like Page have had fewer models. “There were no examples,” Page says of growing up in Halifax in the 1990s. There are many queer people who have felt “that how they feel deep inside isn’t a real thing because they never saw it reflected back to them,” says Tiq Milan, an activist, author and transgender man. Page offers a reflection: “They can see that and say, ‘You know what, that’s who I am too,’” Milan says. When there aren’t examples, he says, “people make monsters of us.”

For decades, that was something Hollywood did. As detailed in the 2020 Netflix documentary Disclosure, transgender people have been portrayed onscreen as villainous and deceitful, tragic subplots or the butt of jokes. In a sign of just how far the industry has come—spurred on by productions like Pose and trailblazers like Mock—Netflix offered to change the credits on The Umbrella Academy the same day that its star posted his statement on social media. Now when an episode ends, the first words viewers see are “Elliot Page.”

Today, there are many out trans and nonbinary actors, directors and producers. Storylines involving trans people are more common, more respectful. Sometimes that aspect of identity is even incidental, rather than the crux of a morality tale. And yet Hollywood can still seem a frightening place for LGBTQ people to come out. “It’s an industry that says, ‘Don’t do that,’” says director Silas Howard, who got his break on Amazon’s show Transparent, which made efforts to hire transgender crew members. “I wouldn’t have been hired if they didn’t have a trans initiative,” Howard says. “I’m always aware of that.”

So what will it mean for Page’s career? While Page has appeared in many projects, he also faced challenges landing female leads because he didn’t fit Hollywood’s narrow mold. Since Page’s Instagram post, his team is seeing more activity than they have in years. Many of the offers coming in—to direct, to produce, to act—are trans-related, but there are also some “dude roles.”

Downtime in quarantine helped Page accept his gender identity. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” he says.

Page was attracted to the role of Vanya in The Umbrella Academy because—in the first season, released in 2019—Vanya is crushed by self-loathing, believing herself to be the only ordinary sibling in an extraordinary family. The character can barely summon the courage to move through the world. “I related to how much Vanya was closed off,” Page says. Now on set filming the third season, co-workers have seen a change in the actor. “It seems like there’s a tremendous weight off his shoulders, a feeling of comfort,” says showrunner Steve Blackman. “There’s a lightness, a lot more smiling.” For Page, returning to set has been validating, if awkward at times. Yes, people accidentally use the wrong pronouns—“It’s going to be an adjustment,” Page says—but co-workers also see and acknowledge him.

The debate over whether cisgender people, who have repeatedly collected awards for playing trans characters, should continue to do so has largely been settled. However, trans actors have rarely been considered for cisgender parts. Whatever challenges might lie ahead, Page seems exuberant about playing a new spectrum of roles. “I’m really excited to act, now that I’m fully who I am, in this body,” Page says. “No matter the challenges and difficult moments of this, nothing amounts to getting to feel how I feel now.”

This includes having short hair again. During our interview, Page keeps rearranging strands on his forehead. It took a long time for him to return to the barber’s chair and ask to cut it short, but he got there. And how did that haircut feel?

Page tears up again, then smiles. “I just could not have enjoyed it more,” he says.”

#suicide m #transphobia m #Elliot Page #transgender #representation #celebrities #actors #tv #movies #rep #trans #transmasculine #nonbinary #queer #long post

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tobesolonely · 3 years

Text

house hunting

A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless and @nationalharryleague for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!

summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!

warnings: smut

word count: ~3.3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

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With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.

Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.

So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.

“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”

“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.

“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”

Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”

Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”

Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.

“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”

“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.

“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”

“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”

Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”

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“I hate it.”

“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”

“Don’t like the color.”

“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”

You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in.

“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405–made traffic a nightmare.”

“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.”

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.”

“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject, gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own.

“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”

You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit.

“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.”

The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side.

“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”

Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.

The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated.

You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.

“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”

“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”

“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.

“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”

“Is it working?”

You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.

“Where are you, love?”

“‘M in here!”

You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.

Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.

“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.

“S’our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”

A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”

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No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.

It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment.

Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).

When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.

“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.

“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”

“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.

“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”

Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.

“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”

“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.

The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.

Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.

“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”

“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”

“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”

Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.

“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”

“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.

“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.

“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone.

You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”

“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Where do ya want that kiss?”

“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.”

You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”

“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.”

Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.”

“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him.

“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow.

“All good?”

“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him.

“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.

“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”

“You sound impatient.”

“I just wanna get on with it.”

Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”

“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.

“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles.

“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”

“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”

��No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”

He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush.

You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.

“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”

“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.

“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”

His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.

“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

as always, please let me know what you thought here!

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic

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goddess-pan · 3 years

Text

Tailor!Reader in Dream SMP

Dsmp x reader prompt; Tailor!Reader in Dream SMP. Credit would be appreciated so more people can find this and make their own things based on it.

Can fully be read as platonic. GN!reader with they/them pronounce as a placeholder so anyone can adapt it however they want. Both general and character specific parts included.

Characters who have a lot written for/about; Eret, Ranboo, Foolish, Tommy, Technoblade, Philza and Michael. Mentioned; Tubbo, Sam Nook, Purpled and Foolish Jr.

This ended up being super long so I’m putting it under the cut in order not to clutter people’s pages. My personal favourite part is Phil’s and Techno’s part. These could be read as headcanons but are still available as a prompt(s) to use for anyone.

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The reader joining after the doomsday as a time frame in my mind.

The reader helping people patch up their current clothes since most of it got pretty banged up during the doomsday, and it's not like they can just go get a new outfit since quite a few people had just lost all their belongings and only had the clothes on their back. So at first prioritizing helping patch up the current clothing people were wearing and then moving on to making some simple fast to make and easy on the resources clothes for people. Just like basic shirts and shorts/pants, nothing fancy. Then when everyone has at least a couple of different clothes to change to and from starting their own business to sell people more if they wanted. However waving payment if they brought them the materials and what they wanted wasn't overly complicated.

People at first thinking they are just some chump who knows basic sewing or something. A very kind chump, but still a chump. So imagine their surprise when one day they are just walking by the reader's now established tailors and they see these absolutely stunning designs displayed at the windows.

Just like their reactions seeing these beautiful designs they can't help but stare at. I'd imagine some of them just doing a double take when they walk by, someone pressing their face up to the glass trying to see it closer, the braver ones going inside and talking to the reader about their designs and the more anxious and/or shy ones only going inside when the reader isn't there to look at designs closer.

And the reasons they like/are amazed by the designs vary also ! Some just have monkey brain that goes "Pretty. WANT", some who just love the colour and art of the pieces, some who imagine how epic this design or others would look on them, some who love the fashion aspect of it and of course the very small portion who actually know anything about tailoring/sewing and the amount of work that goes into making something intricate.

Some specific character/group interactions I thought of;

Making warm well insulated clothes for people moving to Snowchester so they don't freeze. +A warm cape for Ranboo for the same reason.

Eret being one of the firsts (if not the first) to get himself a fully tailored and customized outfit. Them also being the first and very possibly only person to get a dress or a skirt since most of the other people on the server prefer to wear pants (excluding maid dresses which people might get as joke). The reader crying in joy for getting to design something different for once. And hey if the reader ends up making a few extra ones that she didn't order, but decided to give her anyway it was all just some extra ones they had lying around, never mind the fact that the dresses/skirts are perfectly tailored for Eret and are her style. Just a coincidence, nothing suspicious there. Eret also models for the reader and once he even convinced them to hold a fashion show to showcase some of their work to the whole server. Of course he was the main model presenting the outfits.

At start of the reader beginning to display their designs at their shop Ranboo sees a really cool looking suit on display and his brain just goes "Want." He probably wouldn't be able to buy anything pre-made and be comfortable in it due to his physique. And him having just moved into the arctic and only starting to get settled in, he doesn't have comfortable enough funds for him to get something as expensive as a custom tailored suit AND have enough for any possible rent that he might be required to pay.

Eventually when he gets richer he starts considering getting one but the anxious side of him always ends up winning and he doesn't. However once he finally gets the courage to go commission the suit for himself he doesn't regret it at all. The reader did their best to not overwhelm him and to make it the best possible experience. Just imagining the absolute joy he would feel for having a properly fitting suit that's made just for him, not too short sleeves nor too wide torso and shoulders, just perfect. If he ends up ordering a couple more suits that's between him and the reader. He actually ends up probably being their most frequent and reliable customer.

And we should all know why that is, but let me clarify just in case; Michael.

The reader basically becoming Michael's personal stylist (/hj) . Not only does Ranboo buy a god awful amount of clothes for Michael, the reader also makes some free ones for him. The free ones are things the reader felt like designing since they absolutely adore Michael and the ones Ranboo pays for are commissioned by him. Michael absolutely has the biggest wardrobe in the whole server. The reader learning how to make plushies so Michael could have some more toys, this learning experience including learning to crochet and knit to see what he like best.

Using their newly acquired plush making skills, the reader starts their quest to make some plushies for others after seeing people stare at the plushies wistfully either while they were working on them or seeing Michael with the plushies. People who got them include the minors, their close friends and basically anyone they thought might benefit from them. Some of the ones they made (that I could think of);

Of course a bee for Tubbo, but also throwing in a little ram one as well

Ranboo gets a grass block plush/pillow

Tommy gets a cobblestone block plush and a cow plush. He also later receives a Sam Nook plush while he's working on the hotel

Purpled getting two different sized ufos, one to hold and the other more of a big pillow

Eret definitely gets a flamingo plush

Foolish gets a totem and a gold block plushies

Phil gets crow plush as well these tiny fake coin and gem plushies (the latter causes problems for him which I'll expand upon later)

Techno gets a pig one as well as polar bear one

Back to the individual/group part

The reader just chilling w/ Foolish as a fellow artists. Them talking about both their arts and catching up every time the reader comes to deliver something to Snowchester when Foolish is building the mansion. Just two pretty peaceful artists talking about their passions. I’d imagine Foolish and the reader could relate to each other and their place in the server due to their similar hobbies/jobs as well as their similar time of joining the server. Foolish's first commission from them being an intricate blanket for Foolish Jr so he could have a more comfortable resting place. He may or may not end up receiving that and several other (though less intricate) blankets as well as a tiny shark plush to give to Foolish Jr. Later on when the reader gets better at either knitting or crocheting they end up making a tiny shark jumper with a hood for Foolish Jr as well. Foolish would definitely cry when he sees his tiny shark baby. Any commissions of clothes for himself tend to always take some time due to sheer amount of work needing to be done due to his size so he always makes sure the reader doesn’t already have a lot on their plate and that they know he’s fine with waiting if they need to take a break from it.

Then there's Tommy, who they sometimes teach more about sewing since he already knows some basics. Him probably being the first person aside from Michael they make a plush for, due to him demanding one once he saw the reader making them. Then proceeding to get three plushies in rapid succession. The first being the cobblestone, the second being the cow and the third one being the Sam Nook one. He ends up losing one of them during the prison fiasco and when the reader asks if he'd like a new one they only get the answer of "Don't want to think about what happened and the same one might make me do that". He then promptly receives new clothing (so he isn't wearing the same ones he was wearing in prison) and some extra blankets (for comfort) from the reader.

After Tommy meeting Michael does he use him to scam the reader to make them matching outfits for free? Yes, yes he does. Does it work? Yes, yes it does. Are they bothered by it? Not really, they look adorable in their matching outfits.

The reader being the source for Sam Nook's construction gear/clothes or at least the original patterns for them.

And then there's the arctic boys (minus Ranboo, who will still get mentioned) who are an interesting bunch clothing wise. The first one to commission the reader out of them would be Phil who got the original warm cape for Ranboo but also at the same time commissioned one for himself that would include slits for his wings. Eventually getting to design clothing for him which is always an exciting challenge with his wings. And when Phil finally manages to convince Techno to get something made for himself as well, Techno almost immediately gets addicted to having high quality clothing when they finish their first piece for him. The fun the reader has designing clothes for these boys is immeasurable with their different styles and needs in the clothing. Aside from clothing Techno also commissions them for a pet bed for Steve.

When the boys got their plushies it was adorable but also a very chaotic. Techno giving his pig one to Steve so he wouldn't miss him when he was away from home, but also bringing the polar bear one with him when he couldn't or wasn't allowed to bring Steve with him but still needed comfort. While on Phil's side of things; he was showing his crows the crow plushie joking about he'll replace them if they aren't careful however he made the mistake of showing them the tiny coin and gem plushies as well. I want you to imagine hundreds of crows descending upon this poor fool of a man in the background while the reader is walking away hoping they like their plushies.

The war that ensued the couple following days amongst the crows starts to cool down but the bickering doesn't, every waking moment Phil can feel eyes on him and one or more of the crows coming to complain about the others having had the shiny plushies for too long. He quickly caves under the pressure and commissions more of the tiny shiny treasure plushies. And by more I mean a lot more.

When he finally has enough of the things he goes around distributing them to the crows. Finally a moment of peace, but he still feels like something is staring at him occasionally. Deciding to ignore it since it's finally quiet he goes to makes himself a cup of tea and while waiting for the water to boil he fishes out the few shiny plushies he had saved for himself. The second he does he feels eyes burning into him and now that it's quiet he hears it, quiet muffled snuffles and snorts of discontent. Then he sees what ‘it’ is, it's Techno behind the window looking at the shinies in his hand with such intensity Phil fears for his life (/hj). Phil just sighs deeply before walking over to the window and opening it. For a second Techno looks like a deer in headlights before returning to intensely staring at the shinies in Phil's hand before Phil just dumps the shiny plushies into Techno's hand and closes the window. Happy piglin noises can be heard outside while Phil debates the pros (getting to have shinies himself) and cons (the embarrassment of having to commission even more of the shiny plushies than he already has) of getting new ones from the reader. And in all this the reader has no idea the amount of chaos they inadvertently caused.

And finally; Techno commissioning robes/cloaks for whole the Syndicate to wear in their meetings, because he’s dramatic like that. But since he’s a thoughtful guy, he wants them all to fit the members well and not be uncomfortable to wear so he gets everyone’s measurements. Once he has them all he goes to the reader with the order for the robes, he has all the measurements written down under just Person 1, Person 2 etc. to keep their anonymity and when asked what the robes are for he just tells the reader it’s a book club. When he gets them all and the reader asks no further questions he thinks he’s gotten away with getting some cool robes for the Syndicate with their secrets safe. Little does he know the reader actually now knows all the members in the Syndicate since they can just reference the gotten measurements with everyone’s measurements written down from previous work done by them. Whether the reader thinks it’s some weird cult they all are a part of or just an actual book club people are too embarrassed to admit they are in, is up to interpretation.

#dsmp x reader #dsmp fanfic #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #Pans Writing Prompts #C: Technoblade #C: Ranboo #C: Philza #C: FoolishG #C: Eret #C: TommyInnit #C: Michael_Beloved

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