#their passion for the youth brought them together and made them fall in love

[sweetdreamscabot]

SAY YOU LOVE ME - A. CABOT & C. NOVAK

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ ALEX CABOT x CASEY NOVAK ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

@ilovecalex - the idea is theirs! <3

Amidst the high-stakes pressures of the legal world, Bureau Chief Alex Cabot and Senior ADA Casey Novak navigate the complexities of their semi-established relationship. Balancing age, power dynamics, and the weight of their demanding careers, the two women face challenges that test their bond. As their professional and personal lives intertwine, they must learn to trust each other, confront lingering insecurities, and fight for a love as relentless as the justice they seek.

'Cause I don't wanna fall in love If you don't wanna try But all that I've been thinking of Is maybe that you might And babe, it looks as though we're running out of words to say And love's floating away

PROLOGUE

Alex Cabot had always been the kind of woman who thrived in chaos. As Bureau Chief of the Manhattan District Attorney’s Special Victims Unit, her days were a relentless carousel of challenges - high-profile cases, political manoeuvring, and the unyielding weight of justice. But beneath her polished exterior and commanding presence lay a woman who had learned, over decades, to carry the burden of responsibility with grace. At forty-five, she exuded an air of authority that turned heads and silenced rooms.

Casey Novak, ten years her junior, brought a different kind of energy to the table. As Senior Assistant District Attorney, Casey was fire and determination incarnate. Where Alex wielded diplomacy like a blade, Casey charged headfirst into the fray, her passion sometimes outpacing her pragmatism. It was a quality that had drawn Alex to her in the first place—and one that had, on occasion, driven her to the brink of frustration.

Their relationship had begun as a quiet undercurrent in the storm of their professional lives. Late nights spent poring over case files had turned into shared dinners and conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. Over time, the boundaries between their professional and personal lives blurred, evolving into something neither of them had anticipated but both had come to rely on.

It hadn’t always been easy. The ten-year age gap between them was a chasm that, at times, felt insurmountable. Alex’s years of experience gave her a perspective that Casey, with her relentless optimism, couldn’t always understand. But Casey’s youth and fervor brought a vitality to Alex’s life that she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. They balanced each other in ways that defied logic but made perfect sense to them.

Now, as they stood on the precipice of a case that threatened to shake the very foundations of the justice system they’d dedicated their lives to, the strength of their bond would be tested like never before. Alex, ever the strategist, was already mapping out their approach, her mind a labyrinth of contingencies and counterarguments. Casey, meanwhile, was ready to dive headfirst into the fight, her conviction as unshakable as her faith in Alex.

The weight of the case loomed over them, but so did the weight of their relationship - a delicate balance of love and ambition, of two women who had found each other in the eye of the storm and now faced the question of whether they could weather it together.

This was their story: a tale of justice and love, of two formidable women navigating the complexities of their professional and personal lives. And it began, as so many stories do, with a single moment that would change everything.

CHAPTER ONE of SAY YOU LOVE ME

[oakwolves]

Raymond timeline dump for a ref:

He was born in 1968

Went to New York University from 1986-1990 for a bachelor's degree in Applied Psychology

While studying he met Rosalyn and Roscoe's mother Ramona, whom he fell in love with in 1987. Ramona was on the pre-med track and a year ahead of him.

Ramona got pregnant in 1990 and gave birth to Roscoe in 1991. Between juggling Roscoe between each other and various babysitters and pursuing their respective careers, the two of them made it work.

He worked as a teacher's assistant for various classes to get credit at NYU from 1988-1992

He got a Master of Arts in Psychology at NYU in 1992.

He got married to Ramona in 1994

He got a PhD in School Psychology at Northeastern University in 1997

Ramona gave birth to Rosalyn in 1998

He worked as an assistant professor at Rutgers New Brunswick in the psychology department from 1997 to 2007 before he got upgraded to a full on university professor where he worked until 2010.

Ramona disappeared in 2003 and was presumed deceased in 2004

He ran and was elected to the school board of education where Lakeside would be built in 2010 and has been working there ever since

Lakeside High School was built in 2014 after being in construction for 3 years. Rosalyn was a rising high school sophomore at the time.

[mirohlayo]

YOU STOLE IT

( what happens when lando reunites with the girl who stole his first kiss ? )

warning : a bit of jealousy, fluff, lot of fluff

note : i love this okay. i won't write a part 2 so no requests please !!

word count : 4.9k

Lando hasn't always been very lucky in love. While he separated from a failed romantic relationship, he now finds himself alone, surrounded by his friends who are experiencing their perfect love, alongside their soulmates.

This doesn't bother him that much, since he himself admitted preferring to concentrate on his sporting career and thus become one of the best F1 drivers. No girlfriend yet.

But when he has to endure all day long the sweet words that other drivers address to their lovers, when he himself can feel love in the air, it becomes difficult not to think about starting a new chapter, this time here happy and healthy. A chapter that will fill him with happiness, as he has never been before.

Is this decision of not having enough time to find a girlfriend in order to concentrate on sport actually an excuse to hide the pain and despair that is gradually beginning to nestle in his heart?

He tries as best he can to reassure himself, to convince himself that he doesn't need this feeling of being completely in love and devoted to a girl. But when he continues to be the third wheel among the couples his friends form, he comes to desire a relationship more than anything else.

And every time, he can't help but think of this girl. This pretty girl he met during his summer vacation when he was 16. She was divinely beautiful, her shy but bubbly personality made Lando's heart capsize in a unique way, his whole being was alarmed just by hearing her name.

They both had a wonderful vacation, just the two of them together. During these two summer months, they did not let go of each other, spending every day alongside each other. They had become so close and complicit that they proclaimed themselves best friends from their first meeting during a kart race where Lando was racing for his life.

And since that day, they both developed deep feelings for each other. At first it was innocent. And it still is, in fact. They just thought it was a deep friendly connection, that they were just friendly soulmates. That those little stolen smiles and tactile touches were just childish, and just affectionate.

But it turned out that his feelings were ultimately more than that. More than just a friendly relationship. Lando found himself falling in love with you so hard, so passionately that he regretted not asking for your number when you two suddenly said goodbye.

You were his first love. And you still are. He thought that with time, you would eventually slip out of his head, that he would eventually forget you and move on, that it was just a big embarrassing crush from his youth but that he wouldn't think about it anymore growing up.

But that is absolutely not the case. He hasn't stopped thinking about you for 8 years. Every day, even before going to sleep, the only person he thinks about is you, that little girl he was madly in love with before.

He knows it, he maybe denies it a little, but deep down he realizes that he still has feelings for you. Perhaps less intense, less ardent, but there is no doubt that his romantic feelings will double in strength if he meets you again one day.

Of course, the old relationships, flirts, that he had before were sincere and true. He liked these few girls, that he was even happy in his last relationship. But for all that, it was by stopping this relationship and these flirts that he realized that everything brought him back to you. No matter what girl he meets, the only one who will forever remain deeply anchored in his heart is you.

He knows now that you two were more than friendly soulmates. Well, at least from his point of view. He was absolutely unsure about your feelings, which is why during these summer vacations, he preferred not to tell you anything for fear of destroying such a pure and important friendship in his eyes.

But again, he finds himself thinking about you, about how everything would be different with you. It was by going through all these different relationships with girls that he understood that he had never felt anything as powerful as with you. All these girls don't give him even a quarter of what he felt for you back then. So, how will this feeling change when he has the opportunity to meet you again?

The warm air of Saudi Arabia blows gently through the driver's curly hair. Free practice will begin in a few hours now, so Lando is using this time cooped up in the garage, surrounded by his teammate and his racing team, to discuss about the car.

“Hello Oscar!!” Lando's teammate is welcomed by his girlfriend, Lily, who smiles lovingly at him. The interview with the team is over, and she took the opportunity to spend some time with her boyfriend Oscar. The second driver comes to wrap his arms around his lover, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lando scoffs and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Can you do this in private please? In addition to be the third wheel, I have nausea coming on.”

Oscar mocks his teammate, still holding Lily tightly in his arms. “Mate, it’s not my fault you’re a failure in love.” The Brit stops himself from hitting him, before putting on his McLaren cap. “Need I remind you that I’ve been in a relationship before?” He says to him with a completely proud look. ���Couple who ended up in a failure, by the way.” He remarks, pointing at him.

“I really loved her…” The curly pauses. “It’s just that there is someone who- no, nothing, forget what I've said” He grumbles and withdraws into himself. Oscar frowns, Lily now concerned about the situation. “What?” She questions him gently.

Lando refuses to face this situation and simply shrugs his shoulders and ends up running away to join Zack further away. He can't say more, he can't talk about this girl who obsesses him. The two lovers look at each other confused by the British's behavior.

Zack smiled as he saw Lando walking towards him. “Are you already tired of feeling love in the air?” He says in order to tease him, which works. “Stop with that, I don’t care if I’m in a relationship or not.” What a lie. Zack knows his driver is lying, but he doesn't bother him more than that, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“So, how are things going at Ferrari?” Lando asks to quickly change the subject, not wanting to face another charade about his catastrophic dating situation. The two men then turn towards the Ferrari garage, where they can see the two drivers and the mechanics. "They look like they have a really good car, that's all I can tell you. But that doesn't mean-"

But it's too late, the British Mclaren driver no longer listens to his boss. As the Ferrari mechanics and strategists set to work, he saw among this small crowd Charles alongside a girl. At first glance, he thought it was his girlfriend. But upon closer observation, the woman, who is facing away, has a little shorter hair and is smaller in stature. And her hair color reminds him of her.

The girl he's been hopelessly in love with for 8 years now. But it can't be real, right? Why would you be here at the free practice sessions, and even more so accompanied by Charles Leclerc? His eyes must surely be hallucinating. But that silhouette from behind reminds him so much of you. But he tries to reassure himself. Or rather convince himself that there are so many brown girls in the paddock that he has confused you with someone else.

“Are you still listening to me or not?” Zack's serious voice rang in his ears. "Uh, yeah, sorry..." "You must need some time alone, I think" A mocking but concerned smile takes its place on Zack's face. “Yes, I think I need a little rest, excuse me” Lando smiles at him with difficulty before his boss goes further away.

The driver takes a deep breath. He can't help but look away at Charles and that girl. The more he looks, the more he feels like he's going back 8 years and seeing the girl he loves in front of him. He needs to know. He needs to be reassured and to be sure if this girl is really you.

And as if fate had heard it, the woman disappears from the garage, and seems to be heading to the paddock. So the British guy doesn't miss this chance and almost runs behind her to follow her. A few people give him confused and questioning looks, but he continues to pursue this dark-haired woman who hypnotizes him.

As he gets closer to you, his heart beats harder and harder. He feels like he's going to burst out of his chest and this feeling of stress eating away at him makes him want to vomit. Because he is realizing that he may have found his first love again. His eternal childhood crush.

That all those nights lost looking for you on social medias, trying to find your account and reconnect with you may not have been in vain. That all those nights lost thinking about you for a long time before falling asleep may not have been wasted in vain. That all these memories of you that he replays in his head finally make sense.

So, he goes for it without a second’s hesitation. "Excuse me ?" He speaks a little hesitantly, afraid of ending up with a woman who doesn't know him. But when the girl turns around, her brown hair flowing in the air, her eyes meeting his, Lando's heart skips several beats.

He finally found you.

The look of shock and surprise on your face mirrors Lando’s perfectly. Neither of you knows how to react, so you stay stuck like this for what seems like an eternity. But it is during this moment that the air suddenly seems changed. As if a connection, which once existed, was finally present again. As if an invisible link had finally reconnected between you, and united you for eternity. This change in atmosphere makes Lando's heart beat a little harder.

It seems unreal. So unreal that he thinks he's dreaming for a moment. For years, he never stopped thinking about you. To wonder what had become of you, what you looked like. And here you are now in front of him, more radiant than ever. This supernatural trance finally breaks when you decide to speak.

"Lando?!...Lando!!" You can't help but smile with all your teeth, a smile so sincere and strong. And oh God he suffered so much for the last eight years without being able to admire your magnificent smile. He adores it so much that he dreams of framing it in his memory forever. He knows how weak he becomes every time he gets the chance to admire your smile.

He can't help the big smile that comes over him as well. He feels so many emotions inside him that he feels like he's going to explode with happiness. "Y/n! Oh it's really you, I can't believe it!!" He can't even hide his joy and excitement, which makes you smile more, although it already seems impossible considering your cheeks already tired from just smiling.

“Me either, I feel like I’m in a dream” You admit, still a little surprised. “I didn’t think you were going to recognize me to be honest” You tell him, trying to contain your bomb of joy. “How could I not recognize you, when you are literally the most precious person to me?”

This simple sentence makes you blush violently, as you try to hide your embarrassment. “Uh- well it’s been 8 years since we last saw each other, so I doubt I’m still your favorite person” You laugh sweetly, and the sweet sound melts his heart. “So don’t doubt anymore, because you really are y/n” He addresses these few words to you while looking into yours.

And that's when he realizes how much you've changed. But changed in an incredibly beautiful way. You have kept this divine beauty which never fails to take his breath away. Your sweet facial features, that beautiful smile that he can't help but be obsessed with, and just simply your face that he could gaze at for hours and hours without ever getting tired of it.

You were already very beautiful when you were younger, when you were teenagers. But now you are infinitely more magnificent and resplendent. You look much more mature, and much more feminine. He has the impression of seeing an angel, a goddess before him. And that too has not changed, you remain for him the most beautiful woman he has ever met in his entire life.

The same goes for you. He's grown up so much, he's no longer the immature but adorable little Lando you loved so much before. Now he's a real man. He is more muscular, more virile but above all he has retained this eternal beauty and attractiveness. His beard makes him look a lot older too.

And then his hair. You teased him back then because he had trouble combing his hair. But these beautiful silky and shiny curls make you want and want to play with them, to caress them until they are messy enough for you to style them again.

“I see that my karting races have brought you to the wonderful world of Formula 1” The driver then says in order to hide the fact that he has been gazing at you for a few minutes now. You chuckle, before nodding. “Yeah, it must be said that a certain Lando Norris passed on his passion for motorsport to me” He lets out a little embarrassed laugh before turning his attention back to you.

"But Lando Norris was replaced by his opponent apparently. Bad luck." Lando's eyes land on the monegasque Ferrari driver who joins the conversation, right next to you. His tone turns colder as he stares at Charles. He can't help but feel a pang - or rather a big pang - of jealousy at the idea that you potentially replaced him with the monegasque driver.

Maybe your heart finally fell for Charles? Maybe in the end you always preferred him. He can't get these assumptions out of his head, because they haunt him now and just thinking about them makes him even more jealous. How come you're as close to Charles as you once were to Lando?

"Wow, what a reunion! Y/n told me how you were best friends before" Charles smiles kindly, and Lando seems surprised by his words. “Did she really tell you?” He asks suddenly. You clear your throat, embarrassed by what you told your friend about your relationship with the Brit.

"Yes, she told me so many things about you. That you were her favorite boy - and still are, that she loved spending time with you so much, that she really found you adorable and cute-” “Hey shut up!!” You beg Charles, placing the palm of your hand over his mouth.

Lando feels himself blush violently upon hearing Charles' words. Is this really true? “Do you think I’m cute ?” He teases you gently, but you feel even more embarrassed that you end up pressing your hands to your cheeks to hide the already terribly apparent red color.

"And that's not all, I still forgot lots and lots of things... anyway, I'll leave you, work awaits me again" Charles ends up patting the Mclaren driver on the shoulder, before to give you a smile and walk away.

A silence falls for a moment. The atmosphere has suddenly changed, it's more tense. But tense because you now know that a more than ambiguous and friendly feeling has settled between you. Tension paralyzes you as you fight the urge to jump into each other's arms.

Lando finally clears his throat before looking into your beautiful eyes. “How did you meet Charles?” “I’m a friend of his girlfriend, and she introduced us.” You respond simply, staring at him intently. Until you notice that his eyes no longer support your gaze but attack your lips.

It makes you think of that moment. And it makes him think of that moment too.

He stared intently at your pink lips. He wonders if he can. If he has the right. If he can taste them again. To move his lips on yours, to see if they are as soft as they seem.

To relive this moment. This moment, which is undoubtedly the most beautiful of his memories, and even more the most beautiful day of his life.

-

England was probably now one of your favorite destinations. Maybe because you found your confidant there, your best friend, this boy as adorable as he was immature who dreamed of being a Formula 1 driver. But all good things come to an end, and you already knew that destiny had to separate your paths. That these two months of vacation spent alongside Lando will only be distant but happy memories of your adolescence, and that you will perhaps end up watching him race on TV, being only a spectator and no longer his childhood best friend.

Lando knew it too. He knew that you had to return to your homeland, because after all England was only the destination your parents had chosen for the summer holidays. But his heart was breaking, suffocating at the idea of letting you go, when he had just accepted the fact that you were for him, potentially the woman of his life. You couldn't suppress the feeling of apprehension and sadness, as each minute that passed reminded you of how much time you would miss, passing by at a crazy speed.

Sitting on large rocks on the beach, you both admired the beautiful sunset that was falling on this last day of vacation. Tomorrow, a new chapter would begin. So you wanted to fully enjoy your last moments with your secret lover, because you might never meet him again. Silence reigned, peacefully, while the sound of the insolent waves lulled your ears with a bitter melody. You hoped you could slow down time, or rather extend it, because he seemed so stingy and selfish about giving you a little more to even exchange your unspoken thoughts.

Suddenly, you felt the boy's gaze on you, a gaze so intense that you had to turn your head away to look at him the same way. A mischievous smile appeared on his thin lips, as he opened his mouth to say a few words to you. “You promised me a gift if I won my kart race. I’m still waiting for it, Y/n.” His eyes filled with mischief and impatience, as you remembered the promise you had made to him. He had won his karting race earlier in the day, and you had promised him a gift if he managed to win it. However, you didn't think it would be so easy, since you had secretly chosen a rather... surprising gift.

A kiss. Not on his cheek, his forehead, or even his temple. No, it was more than just a childish, awkward kiss. A real, quick kiss on his lips. You thought about it because, although you sincerely believed in Lando's phenomenal abilities, you didn't think he would end up on the top step of the podium so easily and quickly. And now you're in trouble. Lando continues to stare at you mischievously, still impatient to discover your precious gift. Your brain was no longer able to function, your heart was speeding up. Did you really have to go for it? Take the plunge and place your lips on his?

Lando's impatience and waiting were more evident, while you were still panicking inside. And then, that's when you understood. That there was only him in your heart, and that there was only one chance. Only one life to live it to the fullest, without regretting anything. That worst case scenario, you'll go home the next day, forgetting this stupid promise and action. That in the end, this vacation, this boy, and this kiss, will remain engraved as the most beautiful adolescent chapter of your life, and that you will remember it with full joy and nostalgia.

Then the next second, Lando was surprised to feel a pair of lips on his. The kiss only lasted a short second, yet long enough for him to feel a bunch of different emotions. His heart felt like it was stopping, just as his brain was trying to properly process what had just happened. A powerful, strange but sweet feeling came over the young British man. He had just received his first kiss, and even more so from the girl he loved desperately. As you pulled back to look into his eyes, his looked back at you, confused. But because he understood.

He understood that this was love. That he was destined to remain faithful to you, for the rest of his life, because that kiss was the promise that his heart would belong to you forever.

-

It's been a little over a week now since you and Lando got together. And these last few days have been filled with nostalgia, reunions and above all strong and intense emotions. After the Jeddah race, Lando asked you to spend time together. Finally, he secretly wanted to insinuate that he wanted to spend every minute of his time by your side. Like before, like eight years ago.

He had finally found his childhood crush, the woman he considered the love of his life, and so he wasn't going to let her escape so easily. Especially since this reunion made him rekindle these deep feelings that he had not lost, but balked at because he had come to the conclusion that he will never find you again. However, talking to you again, spending time with you made him feel the love he had for you, but so much more intense, so much stronger and more powerful.

He's never felt like this before with any other girl, he's never seen himself in this state. Completely and obsessively in love, desperate to receive your attention and stay with you. Finding you was a sentimental blow to him, while he found himself lost forever in your heart. Finding you sealed his heart in your hands for eternity.

“It was a great day.” You hasten to say as a pretty smile takes place on your face. The driver looks at you lovingly, as he nods his head in approval. “Especially when I beat you at karting. It was the best moment of the day” He teases you and you stare at him. "I drove into the barrier because you hit my kart with yours. It doesn't count" You try to defend yourself.

“It doesn’t matter, I still won.” He adds as you sit side by side on the warm sand of the beach. “Still as narcissistic as back then” You roll your eyes but don’t hide that teasing smile on your face. “Still the same Lando Norris that you loved so much” He adds, his eyes scanning the horizon in the distance.

You swallow with difficulty, a lump in your throat. “Loved uh…” You whisper to yourself. Raising your head, you are greeted by the sunset. A pretty sunset, the same one that accompanied you on that last day of vacation eight years ago. You can't help but feel this feeling of nostalgia, of happiness.

It's exactly the same pretty frame, and the same boy by your side. It reminds you so much of that beautiful day long ago. Your heart warms at the thought. You finally found the man you love so much, and you couldn't be happier than right now.

The waves play the same melody, but this time the melody is more beautiful. Brighter and strangely romantic. As you gaze at the clouds in the distance, you feel Lando's intense gaze on you. Exactly the same look he gave you back then. Then, as if you were rehearsing the same scene, like a play that you are performing to perfection, you turn around to lock your gaze with his.

And there, that famous mischievous smile takes over his lips. Eight years later, he has the same look, this smile that changed everything. "You forgot your promise again, like back then. I'm still waiting for it, y/n" His words hit you like a bomb. Because they are exactly the same ones he said to you the day you made that stupid promise to him. This stupid gift.

And as if you weren't stupid enough, you secretly thought of the same gift. You internally promised yourself that you would give him the same kiss if he managed to beat you in karting. And he did it, as if he had put all his soul into the race to deserve this surprise gift from you. You feel helpless as the same panic takes hold of you. Everything seems so unreal. This sweet memory will finally happen again.

You see his eyes drop to your lips for a split second. But it's that split second that changes everything about you. Now you know it's for life. That you found the boy of your heart, that you will never leave him again, even if he doesn't feel the same way as you. That you only have one life to regret nothing, and this childhood kiss you have never regretted. So you never want to regret it.

You smile shyly, and without him being able to do anything, you crash your lips onto his. Lando's eyes widen, but he finally realizes what's happening. And he doesn't wait any longer to move his lips to yours. But this time the kiss is totally different. It is no longer innocent and shy like it used to be. It's no longer a little kiss between two teenagers who promised each other a gift.

No, this time it's much more romantic. More intense, deep and passionate. It's so comforting and sweet. This kiss is the fruit of the unconditional love he feels for you. So, he continues to deepen the kiss, his hand delicately cupping your cheek while his arm comes around your waist.

He licks your bottom lip with his tongue before nibbling it gently, letting you completely devote yourself to him. He continues to kiss you passionately, but yet it's not vulgar or crude. It's a soft and pleasant kiss, where only love is exchanged between your lips.

You finally broke the kiss by pulling back, a shy smile matching your pink cheeks perfectly. He opens his eyes, a silly smile on his lips before quickly pecking your lips again. You stay like that for a moment, admiring each other for a long time, love in your eyes.

"I'm so fucking in love with you, baby. Not since yesterday, not since last week, no. Since ages ago, for so long that I've stopped counting." You smile at him tenderly, your cheeks still pink. "Me too, Lando. I've loved you since we first met."

He smiles wider as his arms pull you a little closer to him. "You know, you're the girl who stole my first kiss. And you're also the only girl who managed to steal my heart. My heart has been yours for eight years, since the very moment you took me kissed." You can’t help but giggle, which melts Lando’s heart. “I thought you stopped counting.” He scratches the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. “Let’s just say I kept counting because I was desperate to know when I was going to find the woman I love.”

In the meantime he leaned over you, until you were lying on the soft sand. “Every day you were gone was like a bullet in my chest.” “What a romantic, I’m almost going to get emotional” You tease, a mocking laugh coming from you. “Still as teasing as before” He adds, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"For eight years, you were the only girl who never stopped staying anchored in my thoughts. From our first kiss, my heart already belonged to you, and it will continue to be yours for the rest of my life. I never wanted any other girl but you, and I waited so long for you that I'll never let you go. I love you so much, sweetheart” His words warm your heart, as you gently caress his face with your thumbs. “I’m completely in love with you too, Lan.” And in these last words, he rushes to kiss you again.

You feel like eight years ago, like the two idiots in love who stole their first kiss. Nothing has changed except the reality that reminds you that your love is bound for eternity, and that it will continue to exist because it is deeper and more passionate every day. That this is the present moment, and that your hearts are finally filled with happiness to have been able to find their other half, after so many years of desperately continuing to live without the presence of the other.

[calipsan]

Okay Essay Coming:

I think one of the most central theses of Vampire Chronicles is that people (or vampires) destroy what the want in the (often selfish) pursuit of that desire. In IWTV, Lestat makes Louis because he wants companionship. Louis tells us that it’s because of his house and money, BUT from later context it’s clear that Lestat falls in love with Louis. Mortal Louis also falls in love with the IDEA of Lestat, and says that meeting him was the most significant moment of his mortal life. However, that infatuation pales in comparison to the world that is opened to him when he becomes a vampire. So, in turning Louis, Lestat destroys the love and fascination Louis had for Lestat in the first place.

Then we have Claudia who Lestat makes to keep Louis with him, to make them a family, and honestly this works out pretty well, but eventually Claudia’s hatred for Lestat leads to the family being destroyed. Again, what Lestat sought (family and companionship) was destroyed by the very person he made to accomplish that. 

Then we have Armand first persuading Louis with the mind gift to turn Madeleine and then killing Claudia in order to bring Louis to him because he loves him. Those acts push Louis further from him and destroy the passion Louis had. Armand loves the mortal aspect of Louis; Louis claims that dies when he makes Madeleine, and then Armand is unable to reawaken Louis’ passion and love even after they’re together for many, many years becauase he states that died with Claudia.

Finally at the end of the story, Louis hopes to have convinced Daniel about the evil nature of vampires but instead all he has done is make Daniel want to be a vampire. Daniel believes that if he were to become a vampire he could make it all work out. We’re led to believe, and indeed, it comes true, that Daniel would not be able to be happy as a vampire just as Louis isn’t happy. 

In TotBT, Lestat loves David, wants to make him a vampire, but David denies him. When Lestat becomes a mortal man, he wants to have sex with David, but David still denies him, saying that going to bed with Lestat mortal body would bring back too many painful memories of his own youth. Once Lestat turns David into a vampire, once he finally gets his wish, he finds that David is no longer the man he loved. The very act of turning him into a vampire makes him different. And though David says that he did in fact want Lestat to turn him and was glad that Lestat forced him so that the decision was taken out of his hands, Lestat still does not seem happy with David. He doesn’t like the fact that David is powerful and would challenge his authority in Rue Royale.

We have Gretchen who loves Lestat in part because of his unusual demeanor. He tells her all about himself and she seems to believe him and accept him. Then when he returns to her in his true vampire shape, she is terrified and pushes him away. 

This theme also comes up in Blood and Gold. In pursuing Pandora, Marius pushes away Bianca, the person with whom he’d had an admittedly happier relationship. Then, because of his grief over her leaving, he misses the letter that Pandora left for him which could have brought them back together for good. 

I haven’t reread the rest of the books so I can’t think of all the details of them, but of course we have Gabrielle and Claudia, both made by Lestat because he loves them, and he loses them both. We have Armand turning Daniel and that changing their relationship.

This message, I think, is that when we seek something blindly, we will often destroy our chance of ever reaching it, and when we are looking in on a life we think we want, once we have that life it will never be what we expected.

[yyunari]

﹠ 🐰﹕ꕤ﹔ animal noises ! 一 양정원 ᯭ ˓˓ a yang jungwon fic wc. 1.8k

❝ i guess i’m getting too old for this ❞

៸៸ as time passed, y/n and jungwon’s similarities became too overbearing ៹ WARNINGS ⇢ angst, minor character death

( A/N ) it’s been a long time since i’ve written ! this fic is inspired by my current feelings on growing up, i’m turning 18 this year & it doesn’t feel like a reality :(( but pls enjoy this jungwon fic while i find more inspiration to write ! <3

Youth is like spring— a blossoming of new beginnings and new realizations. As a new season arrives, and as we mature, changes occurs all around us. Whether or not we like them, change is inevitable and a product of the circumstances that cause it.

Youth is… fleeting. No matter how much we try to preserve it, it will never stay. We realize the good times will never last. But as the next season starts to take form, it passes by in a flash. We realize that once the good times have already passed. And once we realize that, it’s too late, and the leaves fall off from the trees.

Y/N felt pride with her current youth. She knew that it would be over sooner rather than later, and she wanted to enjoy what she could while she was still able to. It was a stark difference from how her peers acted. While there was a rush for people her age to grow up faster, Y/N preferred to relish in the serenity and comfort that her teenage years provided. It was something that made her feel happier each day, and made it easier for her to live her life stress free.

Many other people her age would disagree and say that youth was repressing and overly angsty. But to Y/N, she was lucky enough to look past all that and choose to live her life the way she wanted. Call her privileged or snobby, it wasn’t as if it was anything she would deny. However, there was someone who lived their life exactly the way Y/N did.

Yang Jungwon, a worker at the cafe near Y/N’s university.

He was the type to sit customers down when they were having a bad day and talk them through it. He was the type to spend time making cute drawings and messages on the sides of people’s cups. He was the type to live the way he wanted to live, and not by other people’s terms.

To Y/N, Jungwon was like a breath of fresh air from a world that moved faster than she wanted it to.

Perhaps it was his bright smile, his charming personality, or the fact that he had the same ideals as her. Whatever it was, Y/N constantly found her eyes drawn to the cafe worker. No matter what situation she was in, her gaze never failed to wander to him.

But she didn’t mind. Jungwon was, for a lack of better words, refreshing.

It took a while for Y/N to gain the courage to speak to Jungwon. Her roommate, Jihan, had to give her a 2 hour long pep talk before she left their apartment that day, just so she would have enough determination to walk out the door.

It was worth it, because that was the day that Y/N and Jungwon’s relationship solidified within the universe.

After their initial friendship (which was started by Y/N offering Jungwon an Aero mint), they spent time on Jungwon’s off days hanging out at various beaches and parks. Being in nature was a common middle ground between them, like many other things were. They were happy with each other, and brought out each other’s good parts. Eventually, Jungwon confessed through a packet of Aero mints. It was corny, but Y/N loved it because it reminded her of how they met.

Their relationship started off slow but passionate, with the honeymoon phase seeming to never quite end. Y/N and Jungwon spent most of their time together and didn’t falter even for a second, because they wanted everyday to be a happy one. It worked in the way that they were similar with their ideals— not wanting to rush anything and living each moment happily with their full efforts. They wanted to savor each day to its fullest and not let anything slip through the cracks. And it worked for a bit, because the two were overly in love with each other. So much so that their days were incomplete if they didn’t meet up at least once.

But the cracks were never fixed, and therefore they began to grow.

It was most apparent the day that Y/N faced her biggest tragedy, the day her mom died.

The news came rather abruptly, and her dad was very straightforward in the delivery. It was a random Tuesday when she received a call that her mom had passed in a car accident. It was as if her world had stopped turning and all the blood rushed to her feet, as she fell onto the ground in a state of intense shock.

Y/N rarely cried, but that day she cried like a baby.

Jihan couldn’t leave her roommate alone for weeks after the news came. She knew she had to be there for Y/N because no one else was willing. After all, Y/N’s dad had ghosted her after making the phone call.

Jungwon, on the other hand, was missing in action while this was all happening.

Each day, Y/N asked Jihan if Jungwon had contacted her or anything.

Each day the answer was no.

But still, Y/N wanted to stay in contact with her boyfriend so she texted him updates about how she felt each day.

The funeral was going to be held in her mom’s hometown, which was at least a 9 hour flight from where Y/N lived. And upon hearing that news, she bought a plane ticket immediately. Despite his absence, Y/N figured he still needed to know so she texted Jungwon about her flight.

And only a few hours later Jungwon was at her doorstep, shifting in place as if he hadn’t been radio silent for three weeks.

Jihan sighed when she opened the door, surprised he was there but decided to humor him for a bit. “Where have you been? Y/N’s been a mess, and her boyfriend hasn’t been doing his job.”

Jungwon pursed his lips at that. She wasn’t wrong of course, but hearing her say it out loud made him embarrassed. “I’m going to explain everything to her. Can you please just let me in?”

As much as Jihan wanted to slam the door in his face, she knew Y/N needed to talk to him so she directed him to her room.

Jungwon found his girlfriend on the floor of her room, eating Aero mints and watching Life in the Dreamhouse. He smiled sadly; because he remembered those chocolates were not only how the two of them met, but they were also her mom’s favorite.

“Y/N?”

The mourning girl paused her show the moment she heard her boyfriend’s voice, and turned around cautiously. It had been three weeks since they spoke and in that time he had been actively ignoring her. Because of that, she felt shitty. “Hi Jungwon, do you want an Aero mint?”

He smiled and sat down. “Of course. But you should stop eating so many of those, it’s unhealthy.”

Y/N handed him a chocolate and obseved his face, the one she hadn’t seen in so long. “Where have you been? I’ve missed you, and I’ve only had Jihan to lean on these days.”

“I’ve… missed you too my love.” Jungwon smiled and cupped her face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. I’m sorry I ran away. I just didn’t want our time together to be spent mourning. With the way we live our lives, I wanted to protect that and only have us see the good in each other. That’s why I don’t show my bad parts to you, and why I ran away.”

Y/N wanted to laugh. What he was saying sounded ridiculous, and she could barely believe what she was hearing. He ignored her for three weeks because he only wanted her to see his good sides? The thought process didn’t quite make sense. Her mother died, and the one person closest to her didn’t make an effort to be there. It felt like bullshit.

“You think that’s going to make me feel better? I needed people by my side, and you weren’t there.” Y/N cried out. “In what world would I be okay with that?!”

“I thought it’s what you would’ve wanted!” Jungwon yelled. “The only reason we haven’t seen each other angry or upset is because we hide it from each other.”

Y/N thought about what he said and looked down at her hands. He was right, they hid many things from each other. When Jungwon lost his job, he didn’t see Y/N for 3 days. And when Y/N failed one of her classes, the same thing happened. It was something they never spoke to each other about, but assumed it was for the best.

But at what point did pretending to be happy all the time just turn into misery?

That’s when Y/N realized the most heartbreaking discovery of her teenage years.

“I understand. It’s how we chose to live, isn’t it? If we can’t protect our ideals, were they ever even strong to begin with?” Y/N answered. “I mean, we can’t keep them solid if we can’t uphold them, right?”

“But… what are the chances we’ve been living our lives incorrectly? Maybe the issue isn’t that we’ve been too lax with our thinking, maybe the issue is our thinking.”

Jungwon felt a feeling of sadness creeping up on him with her words. “You’re not happy, are you?”

Of course not. Y/N knew she could never be happy, not until she’s moved on. It was blatantly obvious at that point.

Her mom’s death and both Jungwon and her dad ghosting her made Y/N realize that couldn’t hide behind the thinly veiled screen of comfort that was her youth. She was about to turn 20. And as her youth begun to slip away, life’s failures had become more apparent. Choosing to stay ignorant of her fleeting youth was never a choice she made to stay happy. It was her running away from something inevitable, and Jungwon was a victim of that as well.

The two of them couldn’t have a healthy relationship if they were both too blissfully ignorant to face their realities. They only reinforced each other’s bad behaviors by actively staying together.

“No Jungwon, I’m not happy. I can’t be happy because my mom is… dead. And this is something I can’t pretend never happened. Not like the other times.” Y/N answered, as she gave Jungwon a sad smile.

“What do you mean?” He asked, slightly nervous for her response.

Jungwon didn’t want to break up with Y/N, she was the one thing he looked forward to each day. However, he’d be lying if he didn’t see it coming.

Y/N sighed. “If we’re always trying to live each day to its fullest and preserve our youths, how can we move on? My mom’s death made me realize that life can never be the way I want it to be, and I need to handle these situations head on and not run away just because I want to be happier.”

“But can’t we try to fix it?” Jungwon asked in a moment of slight desperation.

“I don’t think it’ll work out. I love you Jungwon, I really do, but we’re not good for each other. We’re too similar and we influence each other in bad ways. I think it’ll be better for us if we try to better ourselves individually.

And maybe one day, we’ll find a way back to each other.”

With tears spilling out, Jungwon hesitated for a second before giving Y/N a final hug. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be better for you, and I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to understand your feelings. I love you Y/N, and I always will.”

Underneath the glossy mist of first loves and fated encounters, there was a dark void that was waiting to suck them in at any given time. There was always always an undertone of wonderings such as ‘what’s next?’. It was time for them to wipe away that mist and stop being ignorant of their impending future.

And with that, Y/N’s first love was over. An Aero mint was left alone on the floor, untouched by its owner and unwanted by the one who gave it to him.

﹫ yyunari 🁢 1.29.23

🐰 ‹ permanent taglist ! ｡ @muhwaa @hoori @yizhoutv @ja4hyvn @carayat @one16core @enhacolor @jangwonie @soobin-chois @en-boyz @ohmy-fandoms @yeongwonie @yjwonz @yunki4evr @strwberrydinosaur @duolingofanaccount @iichaeyj @eundiarys ꜜ (if u requested to be on my permanent taglist and u didn’t get tagged it’s bc i cant see ur acc, but pls dm me if u want to be in it !)

[tomorrowxtogether]

TOMORROW X TOGETHER On Their First Time Meeting, Performing in Singapore And More

Everything you need to know about K-pop’s Gen Z darlings

Since making their highly anticipated debut in 2019, TOMORROW X TOGETHER has made waves with their energetic, youthful sound and dynamic dance performances. This weekend, the group finally brought their ACT: SWEET MIRAGE tour to Singapore, in their first-ever concert in the city. Below, the band’s five members tell BAZAAR all about their first times, from what made them fall in love with music in the first place to the first impressions their bandmates left on them.

When was the first time you realised you wanted to become singers?

Hueningkai: For the three of us (Soobin, Yeonjun, Hueningkai), it was more or less the same. We took part in music and performance-related club activities in middle school, and would perform during school festivals.

Yeonjun: The experience of being on stage and delivering the song you’ve been working so hard on, having everybody cheer for you—it’s incredible. Nobody can forget that. So from then on, we decided music was what we wanted to do.

Beomgyu: I was really young and was watching a movie called August Rush. The kid in there, played by Freddie Highmore, is really incredible with the guitar. I thought it was so cool, and sooner or later, it was my new dream to become someone who can touch others with music.

Taehyun: I was watching a newly released music video with my sister. The group was SHINee. Watching them sing and dance like that made me want to give it a try, and here I am.

Soobin: Yeah, the idea that it was something we wanted to do just came to us very organically. My parents always loved listening to music in the car, and we also had friends around our age who loved K-pop. We knew that doing music was a possibility and we all took it. I’m glad we did.

Is this your first time in Singapore? What do you love about touring here?

Yeonjun: Yes! We’re here on tour for the first time, and it feels incredible to be here. I know some of our fans here have been waiting for this show for a long while and I just want to make sure they know that we’ve been eagerly awaiting this night as well. We’re really happy to be here.

Taehyun: We keep our eyes and ears out. The best thing about being on tour here in Singapore is definitely the fans. They’re so passionate already. Also, it’s beautiful here. You have the Marina Bay Sands, one of the world’s iconic architectures, and really good food as well. We’re having a great time.

You’re set to be the first K-pop group to headline Lollapalooza. How does it feel?

Beomgyu: You can ask any of us. LOLLAPALOOZA last year was definitely one of the most memorable events of our 2022. The crowds were passionate and so were we. We were reminded yet again of why we love being in music so much. We’re really honoured to be invited back to the festival for the second year in a row, this time as headliner. All I can say is, it’s going to be a fantastic show so you better be there.

Tell us about your latest EP, The Name Chapter: Temptation. Are there any notable firsts on the album?

Hueningkai: I guess one song that we want to draw your ears to is “Happy Fools (feat. Coi Leray).” We all wrote lyrics to Yeonjun’s melody, so in that sense, it’s a very TOMORROW X TOGETHER-ish song. We’re really proud of this one and happy we can work on such good songs together.

What about this latest tour? How does it feel to perform certain songs for the first time?

Soobin: Without revealing too much for any of our fans who want to keep the show a surprise for when they actually get there… I want to say this tour and the songs we’re performing really mark our youth. If you feel that you’re also in your youth right now, you’ll be able to really connect and relate to the songs.

Do you remember the first time you all met one another?

Beomgyu: We’re all going to say the same thing for Yeonjun. We joined the company and he was already “BIGHIT Legendary Trainee Yeonjun Choi” since he was really good at everything. Soobin was really, really tall so he stuck out a lot since we were all young and therefore much shorter than we are now. He always liked to reach out and take care of others. Taehyun had huge eyes, and had random talents like magic tricks. He’s also very smart.

Soobin: Beomgyu was really shy for just one day but we soon found out just how energetic he can be. He really brightens up the mood. Hueningkai was really young, basically a baby but look how he’s grown now.

Lastly, what career firsts are you still looking forward to in the future?

Taehyun: TOMORROW X TOGETHER is just getting started. We have a great team here with incredible trust, synergy, and friendship and I can’t wait to see what else we can achieve together.

Hueningkai: We want to become a group with a unique signature sound that anyone can recognise. I want people to hear our music and immediately know, ‘hey, that’s TOMORROW X TOGETHER.’ I guess we want to become a staple for all youth who are experiencing growing up.

Yeonjun: We’re still here now, but we’ll also be back again sooner than you know. And you won’t be disappointed.

[readyplayerhobi]

hey here's my prompt offer : (idk if you write for jimin but lemme try lol) an established relationship au where they're having a late night snack after putting the kids to bed and end up reminiscing about the past and the small memories and all that corny stuff yk and just basically fall in love all over again if that makes sense ? yeah. thank you if you use my idea, your writing is pure gold (would be good with jk too)

(here's a doggo wearing socks to motivate you while writing hehe)

Okay...this one is short but so sweet 🥺 not quite what you asked but close enough!

"Oh my god." Jimin groans, before flopping onto the bed beside you. Giggling at the tiredness in his voice, you reach over and pat him in a consoling manner.

"They finally out?"

The two of you had a five-year-old girl and three-year-old twin boys, which made for an interesting bedtime every night. No-eul was usually easy to get to sleep, but Seung-min and Seung-jae were twin tornadoes and they made bedtime a battle. Especially if one of them was in a mood.

"Remember when we were younger, and like...could just go to sleep whenever we felt like it?" Jimin asks, his voice slightly muffled but still audible. Just from that, you know the answer to your question was definitely 'yes'.

"Yeah, those were the days. And being able to eat dinner without it ending up on the floor...leaving the house within two minutes instead of twenty minutes..."

"Being able to walk through a room without almost killing yourself tripping over LEGO, go food shopping without having a heart attack when you lose a child." Jimin finishes, turning his head until he's looking at you. There's dark bags under his eyes, and you just know that there's similar bags under your own eyes.

Putting your bookmark into the book you were reading, you carefully place it onto your bedside table before rolling to your side to face him. Pushing your hands between your pillows, you take a moment to look him over.

You'd first met Park Jimin in your freshman year of high school, when the two of you had been only fourteen-years-old. He'd been short and a little pudgy back then, though you hadn't been much better. The two of you had started dating when you were fifteen, making you bona-fide high-school sweethearts. You'd watched him grow up over the years, from getting taller to getting in-shape when he discovered the gym, the way he grew into his face and developed a sharp jaw line that was softened by his round cheeks and plush lips.

Sixteen years. That was how long you'd been together, with four of those years spent happily married. You'd both defied the expectations of everyone around in staying together, and you were both still as in love as when you were teenagers. But where you'd both been driven by lust and passion (and hormones) as teenagers, that fire had mellowed out to mutual trust, love and affection.

You trusted him with your life and the lives of the three precious children you'd brought into the world, and he trusted you just as much.

The signs of youth had disappeared with time, and the Jimin before you was older both mentally and physically. Instead of puppy fat, he had laugh lines at the corners of his eyes from years of joy and happiness alongside the very first grey hairs that were starting to appear in his thick head of hair (as much as he liked to claim otherwise). And you loved this Jimin just as much as the one you'd started dating.

"Worth it, though." You whisper into the comfortable quietness of the bedroom.

Jimin smiles slightly, the apples of his cheeks rising and causing his eyes to narrow slightly in that ever so familiar movement.

"Every minute of it."

[cant-get-no-worse]

I’ve been really struggling to connect to the new team the past few years, but I gotta say, players like Pedri, Gavi, and Araujo have made it easier, especially this season. There’s just something about Pedri and Gavi specifically that makes me excited; I feel like the two of them are destined for Barca greatness and I am genuinely excited to witness it, even if a large part of me still misses our old teams, and am still painfully dealing with the loss of Leo

‼️ this :)

I had a tough time especially starting after 2018 (Iniesta's departure acted a shift in the team); I connected less and less with the teams from 2018 to 2021 until, subsequently, Leo's own departure. Felt like 3/4 of the players on the pitch were randoms. Youngsters from La Masia (Gavi) or outsiders just as passionate about the club (Araujo, Pedri) brought a genuine wind of youth and sense of reconnection with the supporters within the team. It is really interesting to observe, starting with the shirts' sales.

I too can't help but compare this current team with the olders; who can forget the incomparable feeling of winning a Treble with a home-grown team like the 2011 squad? Who can forget the familiarity, the stupendous chemistry of the 2011's? The fun, deadliness and warmth of the 2015's one? The insane dreams brought by the 2017's? Who can forget the people who wore their numbers to give us glory? I still read Messi when I see the 10, I still think of Xavi or Andrés in the 6 and 8, Busquets 5, Alba, even fucking Piqué, Alves or Luis. I never trusted any other team that these, and thankfully, those are not meant to be forgotten, rather cherished. But they are also meant to make way for new memories. It isn't fair to no one to cling on to it. We went through a very tough period, results-wise, institutionnaly-wise and team-wise, and we are now getting our head out of the water. Number change hands.

Players like Pedri, Gavi, Araujo have this kind of eerie familiarity, homeliness, like seeing them in Blaugrana just feels right. I like our fellow players very much, but these three do stand out as fitting with the crest, belonging to the colors and the club, it's quite strange. Some feeling I used to only get with a couple of other names. As you said, they help us find this love for this team again, but also, and maybe most of all, the trust. I fall in love with the team all over again when I see Gavi kiss that crest fiercely; and I realize I trust him to fight for each ball regardless of the score. I fall in love when Pedri produces his selfless ever-growing talent in the midfield, and I realize I trust him to inject the dynamism to run to that goal. I fall in love when I see Araujo defending the colors , and I realize I trust him to take on any winger. I realize Ansu is still a kid of 20 years of age, and I hope I can begin to trust him too, as with Frenkie, MTS, Lewandowski, Christensen, Baldé, Koundé, and every other player in the squad. It's just a question of time before these names become as familiar to me, and to the supporters, as all the names before them.

Trusting a team & genuinely liking each of its player is a process of time. And these time of players make me genuinely so damn excited to see them grow wearing our colors and improve their chemistry, talent and the team altogether, and I can only be so grateful we have them hopefully for many years to come. i know gavi aint leaving unless we kick him by the boots (remind u of anyone much?) so i'm quite sure about it but i aint lying when i say if pedri goes elsewhere it will crush me cause be fr They now gotta ciment their place and work together to get to the top — next season is going to be so fun, for players and supporters alike. ❤️

[ireneworth]

'My Dear, Put Back the Words'

Let Albee explain Albee. In 'Lady from Dubuque,' Irene Worth listens for the poetry.

By Harry Haun

Daily News, January 27, 1980.

Irene Worth, the "international actress" from Omaha, sits in a back corner of Gallagher's, dealing with the specialty of the day (corned beef and cabbage), looking resplendently inconspicuous in her Anyone face.

Save for the fact that she's surrounded by press and publicists, she could pass for anyone and, indeed, has during her 38-year life in the theater. Most recently she has been, by stage turns: a sensuous Hollywood siren on the skids (Tennessee Williams "Sweet Bird of Youth"); a destitute Russian; dowager (Anton Chekov's "The Cherry Orchard"); an indefatigable survivor sinking slowly into a mound of earth (Samuel Beckett's "Happy Days").

Now, she is "The Lady From Dubuque" in the so-named Edward Albee play opening Thursday at the Morosco. The character carries cryptic overtones like a flag, which is inevitable with Albee and par for his pre-premiere course. Everyone con nected with the production seems to have taken the blood oath of secrecy, and all the author will allow is that the title comes from a remark Harold Ross once made about the market for The New Yorker: "It won't be written for the little old lady from Dubuque." The same, of course, could be said for any Albee play.

For the present, his secret is safe with Irene Worth. True to the show's team-spirit, she will only admit to the title role. Period. "I'm not going to talk about what Edward's plays are about because it's too difficult," she declares out front. "Edward is the authority on his plays. He's got to tell what his plays are about. I'm just going to be in them." She makes no secret, however, of the fact that she is reveling in returning to Broadway in an original work—for her, the first time this has happened since "Tiny Alice" 15 years ago; now, as then, the author is Albee, the director is Alan Schneider and the producer is Richard Barr. "We have sort of an old scene going together," she allows.

"I love working on this play and working with Alan. Edward comes occasionally, and we all work together and change if we have to. I find it the deepest, best kind of work, very stimulating and energizing. It rivets one's concentration. It's like realizing the dream of being an actor because you're immersed in the text and exploring how you reveal it.

"Recently, Edward took out two words, and I'm going to ask him today to put them back—or two other words—because I need them to complete the poetry in that line. He's a very great musician, you know, so he's not unaware at all of rhythm and balance and dynamics. The mastery of his writing is that this is not imposed. The audience is not aware of it. It's only that the lines fall comfortably to the ear. There's an unselfconscious musicality in his writing."

When Irene Worth talks shop—and she never talks anything else to interviewers—the passion shows. It gives her a beauty and energy that belie her 63 years, for acting is something she knows, and loves, and this feeling has been returned to her in italics. To date, she has collected two Tonys (for "Tiny Alice" and "Sweet Bird of Youth"), one British Oscar (for 1958's "Orders To Kill") and the most extravagant praise imaginable. Walter Kerr, reviewing her "Hedda Gabler" In Canada 10 years ago, suggested that she "is, quite possibly, the best actress in the world." The road that has brought her to this point in time back to Broadway has been anything but a straight line. Indeed, if charted, her career could make, the course of pinball seem planned. Yet, miraculously, the moves have been right ones. She left Omaha as a child when her school-superintendent father accepted a comparable post in Los Angeles. She received a degree in education at the University of California and taught kindergarten for two years before heeding her muses. When 15 years of training to sing at the Met came to naught, she settled for the stage, surfacing first in 1942 in a road company of "Escape Me Never" and the following year on Broadway in "The Two Mrs. Carrolls," in both instances supporting Elisabeth Bergner. It was Bergner who pointed her toward the British theater where she toiled productively for the next 30 years, save for occasional New York forays in plays like T. S. Eliot's "The Cocktail Party," Friedrich Schiller's "Mary Stuart" and Lillian Hellman's "Toys in the Attic." From the English, the actress acquired classic training, an awesome "international" reputation and an extra syllable on her first name (it's pronounced "I-ren-ee"). Since her engagement in "Sweet Bird of Youth" a few years ago, Manhattan has been her home.

"It's my choice, I think," she says, pondering the path above. "I like to grow as an actor. Also, I don't want to work on bad material. It's a waste of energy. If you're in a good play, the writing sustains you and ieeds you ana nourishes you, and you can get through the evening and have self-respect It's so thrilling if you've really done the play that night and it was good and you got somewhere."

Considering where she has gotten, it's slightly superfluous to wish her good luck as "The Lady From Dubuque," but she smiles anyway. "My dear, the only good luck you can have is enough rehearsal time so you get it right."

[stylezxsilvermoon]

the secret charm: dorothea's pendant: the prince & princess of disaster, burn to ashes together

❞and evan dando never planned on telling you the truth, and your leonardo I.D. card is your fountain of youth, you can be a teenager for your whole fucking life, just find some pretty sucker and make that bitch your wife❞

THE BEER - KIMYA DAWSON

SONG OF THE CHAPTER: I KNOW THE END - PHOEBE BRIDGERS

A/N: this isn't exactly a chapter, it's more, its a character-dependent sort of soliloquy, i might do more of these. It's part of the story, it gives the characters a chance to jump off the page and give them more depth. And you know me, i love lots of depth. Lots of love, Star xx

WC: 1.1K 

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

DOROTHEA'S PENDANT: 

THE PRINCE & PRINCESS OF DISASTER, BURN TO ASHES TOGETHER

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

⁕

Dorothea

The night continues on like the twisted ever land paradise it's meant to me, and it's clear to many being a royal means being the wearer of many faces. As terrifying as that sounds, you learn to avoid the 'switch'. A made-up feeling of your wounds being healed over by the glitz and glamour. Getting quickly swept away by some suave heir that promises riches and gold in exchange for your womanhood, an all-exclusive ticket to your rarest fantasies and all your midnight kisses. And this notion, this notion makes me wish I had never left my mother's womb, preverbally speaking. Her Queendom, which is an extension of her motherly nature, caring overall and sweeping them into ultimate hazy hues of heartfelt feelings. Harmonious and honest, as all was meant to be. Alas, before growing to be a shapely woman I have outgrew my mother's love like one would a baby's old clothing. And it tears at the very soul, though of what I have left now that I have sold it to a man uncaring of where my feelings will lay. As long as my dress is discarded onto waves heady warmth. And the moments are spine tingling and bone chilling, all together to create a neutral nonexistence of everything I could have dreamed of.

And I hope he knows, the love I have for him is ever-cascading. And I hope he knows, I look at my face like one would peer at a gushing open would. The party parades around us like a carousel of chaos and never-ending casualties. Spilled drinks and drunken whispers are sure to cause a frenzy when most of us are of our wits tomorrow. But for now, while the veil of magic and mystery is over our eyes, everything seems better than it actually seems to be in reality. Under the influence of things that make us feel like we can fly.

But somehow, I feel even more weighed down than ever before. It's almost as if I'm attempting to swim my way through this storm of chaos. And all the more to come.

Despite being all too deep to stop this now. I ponder if this is truly what I wish, what I desire. If I could go back and see it all from the view I have now. But, am I the same woman he met all those years ago? I have grown out of many things since the before times of it all. And if I could scream this from the roof tops, I'd say; damn it all. May I be of the highest heights and fall from them and crack my skull open. Tis seems the fate of all that are born on the ledge of ludicracy. We were born to fall, in more ways than one.

And often I wonder, when I look in the mirror, who do I see? A powerful Queen, or a weapon of mass destruction. Will my mouth be used to spread the regime of power? Or, will it be as little of use for good as a barrel of a gun? Only to After all I have done, am I not ashamed of my damndest?

To know my fate was never completely my own, but it may have been, could have been if I had been born male? Even my mother, her womb like a canon for a bomb. Only destruction has come of it, come of me. I am so very mad like a hatter and undone by the words that swirl in my head. And they are all... simply because of a charmed gentleman. For all my allotted days, I am forever sweetened by. Like a beautiful passion fruit brought to rumination by the warmth of spring. He is my spring. But too much water...too much power turns me into mush. Overripens me, until I am not fit for consumption at all.

May my bitterness not condemn me to eternal servitude. But the curse to live this life, is enough, it is enough to make bile rise to my throat. Truly sickening, that what thrills me will lead me to a hollow grave. Unjust, uncouth, unrighteous. But, oh...do I love it, do I love him. The party carries on without a hitch, even as our legs begin to numb from the adrenaline and other additives coursing into our blood stream. I feel static in my heart, and it makes me laugh.

"Oh, what a grand day this is." I announce as I smile brightly. Like the diamonds that shine on every ladies fingers. All but mine, shining bright sapphire.

"Indeed." Harry announces, coming back from what almost looks like, war! His clothes soiled and his tie on his shoulder. Still, despite it all, Cheshire smirked-up to the nines and as mischievous as ever.

I help him pick up his face off the floor when we begin to blend into the background. Or, simply it feels that way to the crowd of onlookers. Even behind the mask are a disguise for who we truly are. And, who we truly fear. The rich may always look down upon the poor, for their shoes going un-shined and muddied. And there hearts forever pure with the most golden of intentions. Unlike the richest, with metal cages around their hearts and bars and a jailer around their minds. And it slips by like a thief in the night by the name of a crown, oh what a wicked thing.

But, in this 'so-called' magical world. We are the true degenerates. Teens sickly enough to be waifs much like the poor. But instead of our stomachs rumbling from lack of sustenance, we crave substance in our veins. To numb the pain of simply just being. W fake all hours of the day and some of the night. But we are what is to be feared, to be looked down upon, truly, at the end of it all. Four our crowns were forged of bloodied battle, and unholy deaths upon stakes of grand adventure. Speaking from experience, my soul feels martyred much like a woman burnt at the stake. And only the bare brittle bones remain. And even then, I am tethered, then I am tied.

May it be talked about in folk tales. But once upon a day, all is to fall. And the first piece to fall in the board of hierarchy will be the king. Our history of fates will truly be empty, because we spent our whole lives tearing the flesh from our bones, trying to show to others that we are human. Some type of humanity to be spared and given like scraps of beautifully woven fabric that falls upon the floor in a seamstress shop.

I am to be a Queen, but a warrior just the same, my head is full of nuts and bolts and gears spinning with steam boiling with fury, but also love. But my heart is a machine, it beats for him on command. But also, to many, I am like a dog, my leash is my ring, my heart & my crown. 

author's note: this isn't what i usually do, but i decided to do since i feel like (by now) at least you should know that Dorothea, Harry and Louis are the main characters. And even if this is Larry fic i still want to make it really super detailed. So yeah, but how did we like this little sorta break from everything to peer into the character's mind/eyes. And, should I do this again? I'm not sure if I will, but I hope you enjoyed it!

All the love, stylezxsilvermoon

link to the secret charm masterlist

link to the secret charm on wattpad

link to the secret charm on ao3

link to fanfiction masterlist (all fandoms)

[starglitterz]

♡ SUNKISSED.

— i can't help but fall for you, love.

feat ; kamisato ayato x fem!reader

warnings ; fem!reader, canon might be a lil wrong, not proofread </3

a/n ; HAPPY BIRTHDAY REBI ( @hamayumis ) !! ilysm darling i hope you have the greatest epic-est most amazing bday ever bc u rlly deserve it for being such a sweetheart all the time !!! i love u & ur writing sm ur so talented and kind !! :D u deserve the world but for now i hope this ayato fic will suffice hehe <3 love, quill!!

the day has come. the day you've been dreading ever since you were a child brought into this world with your future illustrated for you on a canvas you never received the opportunity to paint. everything was decided for you with pure apathy towards your opinion of the matter. whether it was your meals or your outfit, every inch of your life was tailored towards being the perfect representative of your clan. and today that means dressing up prettily to be a bride, to be wedded off to someone you've never met yet will be forced to spend the rest of your life with.

a soft sigh escapes your lips as your fingers drum anxiously against the table. if your parents were here, they'd scold you to stop that behaviour immediately, claiming it made you appear unladylike, and who would possibly want a wife like that? maybe you should continue doing it then, if it meant chasing off your potential suitors. yet you can't help but wonder if he will be there.

kamisato ayato. his surname alone rings with centuries of honour tied to it, while his respectable first name is one that barely anyone holds the luxury to call him with. you've known him since the two of you were mere youths running around and sneaking out of the gala functions you were forced to attend. you were considered suitable playmates for one another thanks to your backgrounds, so fortunately you were permitted to spend time together growing up.

you were granted the blessing of hearing all his plans for the future, the secret hopes and dreams he nurtured in his naive heart, still unknowing of how the world would rip them apart. in turn, he listened to you as well, clinging onto your every word with such rapt attention you often felt heat rising to your cheeks. it was wonderful at the time, wasn't it? two lonely children searching for a friend amidst crowds who only desired to manipulate their way into the good books of the kamisato and l/n clans, finding it in one another and realising they were a lot more similar than the adults had told them.

something you will never forget is the day ayato looked you straight in the eye, kneeled down, and slid a ring made from weaved grass onto your finger, "y/n, when i'm older and an adult, i'll definitely marry you!" the stars bathing the galaxy that night were nothing compared to those swirling in your irises at the moment, as all you could do was nod eagerly and intertwine your hand with his, squeezing it in the hopes that the simple touch could convey everything you couldn't say out loud. alas, it seemed the universe had other plans for the two of you.

ayato's parents passed away, one after the other, and the young boy you had once played with was hurried into the shoes of adulthood. although he was barely stepping out of his teenage years, ayato was forced to don the mantle of 'lord kamisato' and reign over the estate as well as the clan as a whole. those sunny days the two of you spent together dimmed into distant memories, with his busy schedule keeping you from seeing him, until eventually you drifted apart. it was painful, yes, but you told yourself that this was how it was always going to turn out; both of you going your separate ways and fulfilling your respective duties to your clan, because in inazuma, family came first above all else.

you doubt ayato even recalls the ring he slipped onto your finger and the promise he made that summer day, after all, it was nothing but a fit of childish passion. puppy love, that's all it was. but still, there's a tiny part in the deepest recesses of your heart that desperately wants to believe that he remembers it, that he cherishes the memory the same way you do, that he hasn't allowed it to fade from his mind like newsprint under the hot sun.

"my lady, a suitor has arrived. your parents seem quite taken with him," your handmaiden exclaims after knocking on the door and jolting you out of your reverie. "i'll be there in a minute," you call back, fixing your appearance in the mirror one final time before you head out into the fray. you almost feel like a soldier heading into battle. "well, here goes nothing," you mumble to yourself as you exit the room, smoothing out invisible creases in your kimono before you plaster a false smile onto your painted lips and enter the living area. it's where your parents and the apparent suitor are, and it's also where you will bid your normal life goodbye.

however, when the door slides open the sight in front of you is so surprising your entire prim and proper facade nearly crumbles on the spot as you gasp, "ayato?!" "ahem! she does not mean to be rude, my lord," your father clears his throat loudly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "i am sure she is merely overcome with excitement at the thought of marrying you, my lord," your mother chimes in, turning her head to glare at you before simpering at ayato once more. the situation is so unbelievable you have the strangest urge to burst into laughter, but you know you'd bring shame on your entire clan if you ruined the prospects of such a high-class marriage, so you quickly stifle a chuckle behind your sleeve and kneel beside your mother, "of course, lord kamisato. it would be a gift from the archons if i could wed you."

though you've always heard gossip of him being inazuma's most eligible bachelor, you can scarcely believe how handsome his features have developed. but when a smirk curves ayato's lips, it's almost like nothing has changed since those sunkissed days together as children. the expression is so familiar to you that you want to grin and run into his arms like you used to, and that feeling is only amplified tenfold when ayato smiles as if he couldn't care less that you parents are in earshot, as if you’re the only person in the room he has eyes for, as if you're the only one he's loved all along.

"i've come to keep my promise, y/n."

© starglitterz 2022. do not repost or modify in any way - reblog if you enjoyed.

[artxyra]

The Return of the Premier Chaotique

Marinette was only eight years old when her primary school life changed for the better.

On that fateful day, in Mlle. Gilbertine’s classroom was the introduction of a new transfer student. He introduced himself as Damian; there was no last name. And if there was one, Gilbertine made sure she didn’t say a word of it.  

To Marinette, Nino, Chloe, Nathaniel, and Kim, he was an odd boy. Someone that would fit right into their group after a push, as Damian stressed for no social interactions with anyone.

During the early weeks of his stay, Marinette had caught him several times engaging in lonesome activities, whether they were in the classroom or out in the field messing around. Marinette, being the outgoing child that she was, began to plot.

Created from that plotting period was her life’s mission to befriend the emotionless kid.

It was hard at first.

She and the others tried tricking the young man into hopscotch matches, and when that didn’t work, it was a game of red light, green light. Occasionally, Nino and Kim would challenge Damian to dance battles.

Damian was very much against the childish games claiming that they were beneath him, but humored them into defeat.

That was until Marinette decided on a shooting game with water guns and makeshift go-carts out of bike parts. Damian’s eyes lit up with excitement, and Marinette knew right then and there that she finally fulled her goal.

After being soaked from head to toe and laughing amongst friends, Marinette and the others swore Damian into their friend group, thus changing their lives forever.

Soon newer and crazier games began to take over the classroom of Mlle. Gilbertine.

The moment Nino would bring out his portable CD player and the music began to boom out of the speakers, everyone knew what was about to happen.  

One day, while the group was in the school’s pool area pretending to be sea monsters attacking each other with kickboards and pool noodles, they were officially dubbed the “Premier Chaotique” cult. As they were youthful and the material they came up with was more chaotic than anything the future Hawkmoth could ever create.

Everyone knew that Marinette and Damian were the leaders. Together they oozed power, as Marinette was their strategist while Damian was the chief.

Chloe was their lawyer and location scout. The blonde knew what areas had cameras and heavy guarding. Kim was their chaotic developer. He knew what methods were more chaotic than the rest. Kim never failed to disappoint. Nino was their sound design and videographer in some cases. His love for filmmaking and DJing started here and continues to grow. Nathaniel was the tagger as he made sure every graffiti they did was perfect.

Nothing could ruin these kids.  

Mlle. Gilbertine, bless her soul, was determined to get the Premier Chaotique cult under control, but they were slick and made plans at random. She remembers the day when empty ice cream cups filled her classroom. Every desk was covered, and nothing could explain the appearance of snow sleds in the class.

It was no rumor that the mini cult managed to create their own little snow resort using ice cream and shave ice. It was a pain to clean up.

Marinette remembers the days when the mini cult would paint the city red with flowers and chaotic goodness. Or turning the entire city into a roller skate derby.

It’s a miracle that the cops never brought their parents into the investigation. Then again, with a child as pure as Marinette in the lead, people would fall over when they saw her smile.

Their significant achievement was when the school’s kitchen managed to catch on fire during a lunch period. During the evacuation, the group somehow managed to slip through the adults and back into the cafeteria.

Kim had brought marshmallows that day.

When the firefighters entered to put out the flames, the six children greeted them with wooden sticks eating s’mores and telling scary stories.

That fire had been their last valuable success because they experienced the worst nightmare a couple of days later, Damian had to go back to his home country.

It was heartbreaking for everyone within the cult but groundbreaking for the city.

Marinette fell into depression along with the others. After a month without Damian, they vowed to never speak of the best year of their life unless they were ever to meet Damian again.

It was no secret that Marinette had a crush on the foreign boy, so the cult disassembles along with any memories of Damian and the cult.

Years passed since that day.

Chloe took it upon herself to bully Marinette when they had entered college, as those who knew them in their younger days forgot that they were ever friends. Marinette took up fashion designing and making her seem like the perfect student. Nathaniel started working on comics based on their adventures. Nino stayed friends with all but Chloe and continued with his calling in music production. Kim began busying himself with sports, specifically swimming.

Soon the name that used to strike fear in the hearts of the Paris citizens began to fade away into a false memory.

Little did anyone know, the spirit of the Premier Chaotique cult lives on and would ignite in a blaze of fire.

At sixteen, Marinette works her butt off to make their end-of-the-school-year trip a reality.

The trip was not for the approval of her classmate, which has gone stale but for her sanity. Three years of being Ladybug have put a toll on her, and she plans to take advantage of the lack of akuma attacks going on.

When the acceptance letter landed in her hands, her parents swear they saw a boulder lifted off their daughter’s shoulders. She was smiling more and appeared less stressed than she had ever been since finding out the school board decided to move teachers with their students as a handful of teachers left Paris, some even left France altogether.

Her allies (remaining friends) were the first to know about the trip to Gotham, New Jersey, and they cheered happily for her. Lately, someone else has taken the credits for her work.

The day before the trip, Marinette rundown the patrol routes, and emergency protocols with Luka and Kagami, ensuring the safety of Paris if and when Hawkmoth decided to go active while the rest of the team was away.

She then goes on to convincing Kaalki to come with her to Gotham only to be used as an emergency. Marinette was ready to leave Paris and head to Gotham.

Upon entering the streets of Gotham, a cold chill runs down everyone’s spines aside from the former mini cult members. Too Mme. Bustier, the chill was all too familiar, bringing up memories of the kids that terrorized the streets before Hawkmoth. She looks around to see nothing out of place before promptly calling out her students so they would make it to the hotel.

Everyone who felt that chill had every right to be wary.

On the first day, everything seemed fine, but when you leave nearly all the members of Premier Chaotique alone for a moment, well, chaos was sure to happen.

Chloe and Marinette had put aside their differences during the Lila era of the classroom reign. Even after it was over, they managed to remain friends, rekindling the essence of primary friendship. The boys joined in on them not long afterward.

Plans were made but not yet enforced. It did not feel right, and they knew why– it was because they lacked their chief, the one and only Damian.

~☾★☽~

All Marinette wanted was a cup of coffee, but instead, she got something--someone much more pleasing.

Frozen in place, she calls out a single name, “Dames?” The dark-haired male turned around; she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes soften at the sight of her first crush. He hadn’t changed by much, though he was now taller than her.

“Mars?” That nickname sent the French-Asian teen running into the arms of the Ice Prince himself. Instead of pushing her away, he wraps his arms around her.  

Time froze in that café for several reasons, but the main one was definitely because they just witnessed Damian Wayne hugging someone willing.

Their embrace ends with them staring into each other’s eyes. It felt surreal. They couldn’t find the words to say, but they didn’t have to.

Life continues in the cafe as Damian leads Marinette away from the flashes of lights. It wasn’t long before Damian’s phone began to blow up with notifications. He turns his phone off and stuffs it back into his pocket.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Marinette pulls Damian in closer. Lifting herself onto her tip-toes, she whispers, “The others are here too.” into his ear. She steps away to see what she has unleashed, hoping that nearly a decade away from each other hasn’t altered their relationship.

This time it was Damian who smirks, bringing Marinette closer to him. “Mm, shall be bring Gotham to its knees?”

They share a smirk that ends with an explosion, thus, reigniting the Premier Chaotique cult with a burning passion for mayhem.

They decided to meet that night after hours.

Music blared in the streets of Gotham, seemingly close to the classroom’s hotel near Wayne Enterprise.

The members of Premier Chaotique strut down the middle of the streets in inflatable dinosaur suits dancing to the remixes that played from the boombox on one of the dino’s skateboards (Nino’s).  

Jamming to Bats @crazyforbats Did anyone else wake up to music and dancing dinos last night?

Bearbe @Bearbe Replying to @crazyforbats THAT WAS REAL!!??? I THOUGHT I WAS HULLACINATING

Krazie Kay @gokaykaer [A one-minute video with various strobe lighting colors flashing around and six dinosaurs doing the Cha-Cha-Slide] I swear I just saw @thebloodwayne for a split second.

Vera Pitts @vera_pitts [A short video of inflatable dinosaurs chaotically dancing to the Harlem Shake.] I thought this trend of over and done *crying emoji*

By the morning, Twitter was blowing up with various videos and gifs of the events that happened the night before. The only people who weren’t affected by the popularity were the people who were a part of it.

At Wayne Manor, Bruce could already feel a migraine coming as his two oldest play the videos repeatedly in the main room.

Damian scoffs at his family members, while Dick complains about why they haven’t thought of that for a family outing. It’s all about class, Dick; it’s all about class.  

Alfred, being all-knowing, takes notice of Damian's hidden smirks and recent purchase from his account at a party store. Nothing to worry about in this household. However, Damian asking him about where to find used pocket bikes (mini motorcycles) and wire rope reels was troubling.

The next night began the fears of every Parisian that experienced the reign. Blessed that it wasn't not happening in their city for once.

Per their plan assignments, Chloe and Kim found the buildings necessary for the zip line. Nino was in charge of setting up the equipment with the help of Nathaniel. Damian’s task was to get the bikes and zip line wire. Marinette’s job was to keep the class and others from finding out their plan.  

Once everything was ready, the Premier Chaotique entered their playground wearing hooded leotards (or bodysuits) with matching latex masks stretched over their eyes.

Kim went first down the zip line as Damian race down the streets on the bike. Initially, they were going to use the bikes, but the zip line couldn’t hold the weight of the bike and the person on it, so they turned it into a race instead. Of course, they put challenges throughout the route to make it more even.  

Their mayhem took a turn for the best when someone had called the cops, causing the for once silent night into a regular night of crime. Instead of stopping, like normal people, the mini cult went on a high-speed race against the GCPD.

Gotham’s Twitter users were having a blast with the events. It was the best and bravest thing to surface since Batman, though some were very vocal with their opposing thoughts.

The GCPD never caught the Premier Chaotique members, and they went on as if nothing happened.  

It was during the tour of Wayne Enterprise that the Premier Chaotique members learned Damian’s last name. He was an effing Wayne.

Marinette had asked Damian what his last name was when they were eight, and he replied nonchalantly with something along the lines of not being a Wayne until he was ten. Afterward, they continue hanging out and plotting throughout the tour.

After seeing their younger brother interact with teens his age, Dick specifically begs Bruce to invite the group while the rest stands there in shock. The sight of seeing Damian doing what they thought was impossible needed to go into the history books.

While it was a momentous occasion for Damian’s brothers, it was a reality check for Mme. Bustier. Her screams echo against the halls of WE as buried memories of the chaos awakens.

She stared pointedly at Marinette in denial. There was no way her star student was in the cult that did so much damage all those years ago. When Chloe, Nino, Kim, and quiet Nathaniel joined her, Caline started to feel faint. She immediately excused herself to call her therapist. Her wails for help could reach the lobby.

Bruce unknowingly invited even more chaos into his household that night.

It didn’t take Chloe and Marinette much to convince their teachers to let the five of them stay with Mr. Wayne for the night in hopes of “catching up” with Damian.

After getting the approval from Mr. Wayne and their parents, she agreed, secretly ecstatic that they wouldn’t be in her care for the next several hours.

~☾★☽~

“I’m bored. Let’s play a prank?” Kim randomly shouts, playing catch with himself, when they were all staring out the TV waiting for something good to come on.

“What do you have in mind?” Marinette asks, making her way over to Damian. He pushes her away, knowing that she’ll use him as a throne.

“Hey Dames, do you own go-carts are something of a familiar nature?”

Damian thinks about it for a minute, “Tt, father wouldn’t dare let those things in the house. We can prank my brothers. Scaring them would bring me joy.”

“Well I have a few ideas, we can use.” Chloe states, pulling out the book of mischief from her purse.

They all huddle over the book with smirks on their faces.

-----

A retouch version of Request #9.

[itsclydebitches]

OFMD Party Drabble #1

Prompt: Mascots (Blackbeard/Ed for Team Black!)

A/N: I’m (hopefully) going to be posting a bunch of drabbles throughout the week. I intend to pull them all together into an AO3 collection after the 7th.

Ed had never commissioned anything before.

A criminal of the Crown, known for his thefts and their staggeringly high body counts ... yeah, Ed could see why Izzy was looking at him like he’d grown a second head, but it wasn’t like he could just waltz onto any ship and take one, now could he? Well, maybe he could. Yeah. Probably. But then it wouldn’t be unique, for Stede, and that was the point of all this, you know?

Izzy spat a wad over the side and his baffled look settled into something... unimpressed.

“You just want to play at being a noble, Boss,” he said.

Ed grinned. “Guilty.”

“Fucking Christ. Just leave me out of it.”

He couldn’t deny that it was a thrill. With Lucius distracting Stede, Ed was able to sneak into the auxiliary closet and select an outfit at his leisure, mixing and matching with an amateur, but passionate eye until he was happy with the man in the mirror. He’d bathed earlier that day, hair and beard threaded with oil, cologne dotted under each ear, even his fucking fingernails were clean. Ed did a little turn in the blue ensemble he’d picked out—the same shade as Stede’s ring, Oluwande’s earring, the sky right after a storm—and left the ship with a spring in his step.

Every settlement had a woodcarver, but Ed had steered them back towards Bridgetown, knowing that wherever Stede hailed from must have the best stuff. They’d thrown anchor down the coast so as not to draw much attention and a couple comments here and there about meeting old contacts had reassured Stede about his secretive afternoon—more or less. As Ed wound his way through the streets, he made a note to actually find some slob to play the part of an old friend. Or hell, maybe he’d actually find someone he knew. Blackbeard couldn’t be the only pirate out there looking for the finer things in life.

The reality was that every person he passed, from nobleman to pauper, cast a disparaging look at this strange amalgamation invading their space: finely cut clothes that were now several months out of style; rich fabrics sporting wrinkles, the slight failure of a man who’d dressed without a servant at his side, a clean body that nevertheless held too many scars to be a gentleman’s...

Ed noticed none of it, whistling an old shanty from his youth.

The buying of the thing was nearly as fun as the excursion itself. The present might have been for Stede already, but Ed felt like he was giving something else, quietly and intimately, by threatening the man who looked so much like a schoolyard bully. The knife Ed had hidden in his boot was more than enough to secure the woodcarver’s attention. His pistol got him every fun addition he could think of—and a couple more besides. Finally, Ed’s threats—well-honed and even sharper than his blade—ensured that the piece would be waiting for him in three month’s time.

Is a desk really worth the lives of your children, mate?

Was a desk really worth all this trouble?

Yeah. Of fucking course. It was for Stede.

“You really like it then?” he asked, a season later, suddenly unsure despite how Stede ran his hands over the polished wood, caressing it with a care such craftsmanship deserved. The fact that he touched Ed that way still caused a damn flutter to kick up in his chest, like bees and butterflies and a hundred different bugs all swarming together. He thought he’d have come down from that feeling by now; purged himself of whatever sickness this gentleman had brought from another world. Instead, the damn thing lingered, just like his bum knee.

Ed gravitated towards Stede the same way he put weight on a limb that, at some point, would no longer hold him up. Fuck it. He’d embrace the fall.

“Like it?” Stede echoed faintly. “Dearest I love it—” and Ed preened at that, just a little.

Because yeah, it was the best that Blackbeard’s reputation could get them. Not just any old fuddy duddy desk, but one with a lunatic’s style. Ed had commissioned—and that was still such a fun, foreign idea—as many hidden compartments as one piece of furniture could possibly hold. Panels slid away to reveal extra storage space. Drawers had false bottoms and tiny cabinets peeled off into intricate puzzle pieces, the kind of complicated shit that Stede could fiddle with for hours. Some of the secrets were useful, or duplicitous, or led only to some pretty image that existed to be admired and nothing else. It was fucking wonderful. Ed had already hidden a number of surprises inside, both practical and indulgent, but he couldn’t resist showing off the best of them all.

“Had Lucius write it down for me,” he said, pressing a hidden button on the desk’s side. “Wanted to make sure the seller didn’t write something shitty, you know?”

The middle panel fell away and there, intricately carved, was a lighthouse, its beacon shining out towards whoever knew how to access it safely. On the rocks was a simple message:

Never left, never will.

Love,

Ed

Stede gasped.

...and then puckered his lips in playful reproach.

The Love, Ed had a + Izzy next to it.

“He did not agree to that,” Stede said, elbowing Ed as he began to laugh.

“‘Course he fucking didn’t.”

“I know for a fact that Izzy has never once said ‘I love you’ to either of us and at this point I despair that he ever shall.”

“Yeah, but the bastard means it though.”

“Hmm. You going to show him?”

Ed drummed his fingers on the desk, enjoying the smooth feel of the wood and the color infusing Stede’s cheeks.

“Nah. Thought I’d order him to do the ledgers here. See how long it takes him to find it.”

Turns out the time was four months, twelve days, and approximately two hours. Three hours, really, because no one else was privy to the time Izzy spent admiring that carving on his own, quiet and grateful, before he was capable of stepping outside and putting on a furious show.

Ed and Stede knew though. They always did.

A/N #2: You all seen this desk? 👀 That’s a Stede Bonnet desk 100%

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

How about a part two of Stella x owl reader? Fights between Stolas and Stella have become increasingly rare and his mood is improving, Stolas decides to ask about, unlike Stolas, Stella knows very well how to keep her piece of paradise a secret for now. Until one day y/n decides to visit Stella under the guise of business and to give his dear little owl a "luxury massage session", but things get a little out of hand when Stolas is caught with Blitzo. (you can ignore it if you want)

Stella with her Secret Owl demon S/O

Stella, for the first time in weeks, was having a good day.

They had actually become far more common in the weeks since your confession.

She had found herself being far less stressed as of late. So much so, she had only hadn't had a fight with Stolas in a full week.

She was relaxing in her study, enjoying a good cup of tea.

She was reminiscing on your night together, the next morning you had given her a small stack of letters.

They were all addressed to her, the condition of some of them implied they were written many years ago.

It only took a single letter for her to realise they were love letters.

Dozens of them.

She took her time, pouring over each letter. Taking in every word and detail. Emotions swelling in her chest as she read each one.

It was perhaps the most romantic thing she had ever seen.

The letters acted much like a record of your feeling for her.

It started from your more innocent affection for her as a child, all the way into your growing feeling for her in your youth, when you realised your feelings for her were beyond friendship.

And into your discovery of her betrothal to Stolas.

You poured your heart into each letter, telling her everything. Everytime you thought of her, how much you missed her, berating yourself for not just telling her how much you loved her.

You wrote about how much it pained you to remember you'd never get to tell her how much he loved her.

It was a roller-coaster of emotions. Some letters made her laugh. Others brought her to tears.

And by the end, she was clutching the letters to her chest. Her chest swollen with emotion as she experienced so many emotions all at once.

Her marriage with Stolas was... less than voluntary. The whole union being mostly political, arranged by there parents.

She had hoped love would bloom after Octavia's birth. But it hadn't, and after that she knew love was not meant to be.

But you, you genuinely loved her, for her.

You dedicated your life to being worthy of her.

You didn't want her for her status or wealth, you wanted her, for her.

She cood to herself dreamily, fantasising about your time together.

Her fantasising was cut short when there was a neck on her study door.

She quickly placed the letters into her draw before asking who it was.

Much to her surprise, it was none other then Stolas who entered her office. Her 'husband' looked about nervously, rightfully so, she supposed as he stepped in.

'Hello, uh, Stella.' He said nervously 'may I talk to you for a moment.'

Stella had a colourful collection of words she wanted to use at him. But instead she simply asked 'What do you want?'

Stolas cleared his throat, clearly not surprised by her callous tone.

Taking a few steps he began 'I've noticed this past few weeks you've been less... confrontation.' Stella's eyes narrowed, but she held her tongue.

'And I was just thinking, if perhaps we could come to an agreement.'

That actually peaked her interest. 'What kind of agreement?' She asked warily.

Stolas looked thrilled she hadn't thrown him out yet. 'Well, I was thinking we could put our differences aside, put the whole incident between us behind us. FOr Octavias sake.' He quickly cut in. 'Our constant arguing has taken quite the toll on her.'

Stella clenched her hands, he claws digging into her palm. 'For octavias sake...?' she asked incredulously.

Rage swelled in her chest 'How fucking dare you!' She told him through a scowl.

She pointed an angry finger at him. 'You, YOU! Cheat on me! Betray our marriage. Betray our family. And you want me to act like nothing happened. "For Octavia's sake"?'

She stood up, she couldn't even look at him. 'You disgust me. Tell me, would you give up your little fucking Imp? If it would make everything like it was, would you give him up?'

Stolas didn't answer, instead opting to look off to the side. Stella just sighed, shaking her head.

'Your a selfish, pathetic coward. Hiding behind your own daughter, what a disgrace.'

Before she could tell him to get out, there was a knock at the door. 'Who is it?' She shouted.

The door opened slowly, revealing one of the palace Imps. 'What do you want?' She asked harshly.

'T-theres a Lord (Y/N) here to see you. They say it's a business matter.'

Stella instantly perked up, holding back a smile as she rose to her feet. 'Thank you. I shall greet them personally.'

Getting up she walked past Stolas, not even bothering to give him a second glance.

She made her way to the entrance, and much to her annoyance, Stolas had seemingly decided to follow her, for some reason.

She quickly made it to the entrance, you were waiting there, anxiously adjusting your attire.

Hearing her approach you turned, your face lit up when your eyes layed apon her, Only for it to instantly dull upon seeing Stolas.

Still wearing a smile, you reached forward and took her hand before planted a gentle kiss upon it.

'Lady Stella. Its a pleasure to see you after so long. You still look as enchanting as when we were children.' You tell her, sending butterfly's through her stomach.

The moment was sullied when Stolas but in, 'Children?' The butterflies in her stomich instantly falling dead. 'Do you know each other?' He asked.

Before Stella could speak, you cut in 'Me and Stella were childhood friends.' You told him extending your hand. 'Its been some time since we've met in person.'

Stolas took your hand, giving it a firm shake. 'Is that so? Stella never mentioned you.'

'Well until recently' you rolled your head, your smile just holding back a scowl. 'I was beneath notice. I've only achieving my status relatively recently.'

'I was from a lower house, you see, a vassel of her family. And through that, me and Stella became friends.' You gave her a warm look, staring for several moments.

Stolas went to ask another question but Stella cut him off. 'You had business to discuss, did you not (Y/N)?' She asked.

You snapped to her, delighted to not have to talk to Stolas any further.

'Yes, i do' you said happily 'I believe a mutually beneficial arrangement could be made, between our houses.

'Excellent' she proclaims happily. 'It been so long since we've had any real business. And perhaps we could use the chance to catch up. It has been far too long.'

You looked at her fondly, before Stella turned, signalling for you to follow.

You did, turning to Stolas as you left 'It was a pleasure to meet you, your highness.' You told him, the slightest hint of disdain in your voice.

The two of you made your way to her study, you opening the door for her, giving a slight bow as she entered.

She giggled at your antics, before you followed her in, shutting the door behind you.

As soon as the door shut Stella instantly spun around and pinned you to the door, locking you in a heavy kiss.

'You have no idea how much I've wanted to do that.' Stella told you, after breaking the kiss.

You just chuckled before raising an eyebrow, 'oh, i think I do.' You told her playfully.

Stella just giggled, giving you a peck on the cheek. Pulling away she got up and went over to her desk.

You followed close behind, wrapping her in a hug. 'Now, now (Y/N), we have business to attend to.' She told you, patting your arm.

You just chuckled, 'Stella, I didn't really come here for business. I came to spend time with you.'

Stella was a little taken aback, mostly for not seeing it, as on reflection it was quite obvious.

Kissing her neck you slid your hands onto her shoulders, gently rubbing the muscles around her muscle.

Stella moaned at your touch, this only emboldened you, as your hands rubbed deeper and rougher.

Digging your fingers into her shoulder muscles. Stella released a flurry of moans, gripping her desk as you worked over her shoulder blades.

You moved down her spine, slowly undoing her dress as you went.

Reaching the bottom she turned to you, moving her shoulders, her dress fell, leaving her in all her natural glory.

You took her then and there, the two of you wrapped in passion, you held nothing back, releasing years of passion.

When stella became more vocal, you tried to get her quiet down, in fear ztolas might catch you.

As you got rougher, she just cried out 'I want him to hear!'

You went on for a while, after you finished, you held Stella close, the Owl demon curled up on your lap.

You preened your lover, running your hands all across her body before gently plucking any feather you didn't deem worthy to stay on your perfect mate. Afterwards the two of you got dressed.

You meticulously inspecting Stella, head to toe, ensuring she was perfectly groomed from head to toe.

The two of you leaft her study, ensuring no evidence of your little escapade was left behind.

The small collection of Stella's feathers, were delicately placed in your coat pocket.

You followed her into the garden, strolling through the large hedges that sat behind the Goetia palace.

Confident you where alone, you held Stella close, sharing a public display of affection.

You made it deep into the hedges, finding yourself beneath a large tree. It was a beautiful reminder that there was still life in hell.

You took her hand, you lead her beneath the trees majesty.

You pushed your body against hers, pinning her to the tree as you locked your lips with her's.

As you deepened the kiss, The distinct sound of snaping twigs drew your attention.

Snapping your head to face the noise, you found its source.

An Imp had fallen through the hedge, leaving a large hole in his stead.

You locked eyes with the Imp and sighed, 'well, this won't end well' you thought.

The Imp seem to think the same thing, before you both exclaimed 'Well, Fuck!'

Thanks for the request. I really love writing for both Stolas and Stella, as I feel there just isn't enough story centred around them as individuals. It always about there family or Stolas and Blitzø. But I really enjoyed the request. I hope you enjoyed.

[bokettochild]

We need more Time and Wild bonding

For you, Anon! And also for @1142 who requested the same thing!

Summary: Time sees his family, friends and other loved ones in his boys, but Wild especially is reminding him of himself this morning, and he wants to offer some encouragement to the poor kid.

It's quiet to read alone, listen to this!

Epona’s song drifted through the cool morning air.

The sound brought a smile to Time’s lips as he snuggled closer to the warmth pressed beside him, breathing in the clean morning air and tugging the blanket up higher on his shoulder.

He really didn’t want to wake up.

Although, he didn’t remember opening the bedroom window last-

Wait. They weren’t on the farm! They’d gone to sleep in the forest last night! There was no window to leave open, and no Malon singing or lying beside him. He shoots awake, pulling himself up with the intent of looking around camp, only to have something pull him back down towards the ground.

Looking down, he feels his scarred heart melt. Twilight twitches in his sleep, arms locking around his shoulders, sleepily groans sounding as the lad hangs off him, cold nose pressed to his neck. Tiny, whuffling snores sound from his pup as the younger man nuzzles closer, and he can only chuckle softly and rub his protégé's back lightly as he settled back down to let Twilight sleep.

He is curious who had been singing though.

A single blue eye takes in the camp as he props himself up slightly on his bedroll, careful not to disturb Twilight as he takes in where each of his boys lay.

Legend and Hyrule lay curled into each other, Legend clinging to his protégé while Hyrule’s hands lay buried in his mentor’s silky hair, a smile on the face of the younger and drool on the face of the elder*. Warriors lies close by, sprawled across his bedroll and snoring fit to wake the dead, utterly content and comfortable in the safety of his brothers and proving it with his noise. Opposite the three, Wind and Sky curl close, Sky’s sailcloth and their blankets thrown over the two leaving only Four’s left foot visible from between them.

His pup curls close to his side, one leg thrown over his waist and arms locked tight around his shoulders, holding him in place and preventing him from rising, but the bedroll on his left...

Epona’s song continues to dance through the camp, and Time’s single eye finally falls on Wild, the cook busily scrubbing out his favorite cooking pot on the very edge of camp, the familiar tune dancing off of the young one’s lips, suds rising halfway up his arms and hair thrown back in a messy bun that reminds Time strongly of Lullaby’s own hair when the woman loses patience with it. Decorum be shot, the queen will throw her own hair back with a simple hair tie in front of the whole court, ignoring how it makes her appear and continuing her duties without hair hanging in her face and her neck free from the oppressing heat of its constant curtain.

If ever he doubted that Lullaby and Shiek were the same person, each time he sees his princess behave in such a way, he’s reminded that, different time lines or no, there is still the same fiery spirit and passion for change in his friend that there had always been, and it is something he is happy to see reflected in some of his boys, along with Malon’s stubborn personality and incredible strength and kindness.

Maybe he is looking for the traits of those dearest to his heart in the boys that had pushed their way in. Be it by force or by accident as the hero might be, but it brings him no small joy to see Lullaby in Legend’s sharp glares or in Warriors’ brisk manner when planning. In Hyrule’s swift fingers or Wild’s sharp and calculating eyes. To see her in Four’s dark eyes, always thoughtful, always knowing, or in Sky’s burning passion.

It’s a wonder to see Malon in Wind’s boisterous cheer, and in Twilight’s rolling laughter. To see his wife’s mischief reflected in Wild’s luminescent gaze or her love of life in the way Legend cares for his orchard and animal friends. And the glimpse of unbelievable strength in Four’s easy lifting of weapons as big as himself, or the echo of her in the firm set of Warriors’ shoulders always makes him smile to himself.

There are others at times. Saria in Hyrule’s smile. Kafai in Wild’s laugh. Romani in Wind’s eccentric ideas, Nabooru in Legend’s firm stance and heavily lidded gaze, Navi in Sky’s light scolding and Tatl in Four’s acerbic wit. Glimpses of home and family echo around him, pulling close what reflected it and making them home and safety themselves. And over it all he can hear the winding of tunes that both tore apart and hold together the memories of his youth.

And now, one such tune, one especially close to his heart, one meant only for the Lon family and their famous steeds, dances over the edges of the camp and past the ears of the sleeping heroes as Wild lifts his cooking pot and carries it over to the fire, singing softly with faint and muddled words, many of them wrong, mumbled or tripped over, but sung all the same as food winks into being from the champion’s slate.

“-ne-ver far from home. Epona, Epona, can you hear hmm hmm, singing from in my heart, hmm-hmm-hmm.” Mumbled hums break the words as the champion works over the fire, measuring and stirring. “Something if you’re wandering far away hmm-hmm, listen for this melody calling you! Re-mem-ber that you have something-or-other to complete! I trust hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hm!”

The muddled version of the song makes him chuckle softly, startling the younger hero into spinning around, the spoon that Sky carved him brandished like a weapon as the champion prepares to defend himself against whatever he thinks may have startled him. Face beet red and growing redder.

“You have a nice singing voice.”

Wild looks instants away from combusting on the spot. “hOW- How long were you awake?”  Gone are the stumbling yet melodious trills of the cook’s voice, instead replaced with a panicked squeak only made worse by his age.

It was like the first time he’d successfully startled Shiek, both of them both still so young that their voices broke under pressure, and the thought makes him smile as he meets the startled child’s gaze.

“Long enough.”

Wild’s ears droop, quivering with shame and embarrassment as the kid’s shoulders hunch up to brush against them, eyes darting down and refusing to meet Time’s as boot scuffs the dirt softly. “I thought you guys- that is- I thought it was-” Cornflower blue glances up, meeting his own for only a second before darting away again. “I thought it was safe.”

Safe? What does the cub- Understanding dawns and he finds himself chuckling low and soft. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“It’s not that.” The champion whispers. “I just- I don’t like people...hearing.”

Oh.

Also familiar, also so very familiar. Only this time he doesn’t see his wife or sisters and brothers, or mother or friends in the flushed face of the hero before him.

A squeaky voiced young hero, who’d pulled his cap over his face more times than anyone would guess when looking at his scarred face now, had time and again been encouraged by a darting blue fairy.

“You’ve got a lovely voice Link. No shame, come on!”

Of course, fairies always like hero their Chosen sing, but Time himself had, admittedly, stumbled over notes and keys nearly as badly as his pup still does, but he’d lacked any of Twilight’s playful self-confidence to be able to own up to the harsh squeaks and shrieking chirps that erupted out of him whenever someone else tried to get him to sing, or caught him singing.

He was fine, when Navi was fast asleep or the Kolkiri were half a forest away, or when it had just been himself and Epona, trailing through the dark woods in search of a light he’d have given anything to hear encouraging him to keep trying to raise his voice. It’d been the first time he’d really tried to Sing for his fairy, but it hadn’t done anything but tempt over two fairies who already had their own Chosen, a skullkid who’d pulled him along into a world where his voice had hidden with his face behind mask after mask.

It took Malon catching him singing while at work in the barn before he’d been able to et the guts up to actually try for her, but it’d been worth it when he hadn’t had to fumble with fancy words to ask her to marry him, not when there was a song and a dance just for that that he’d learned for Kafai while in Termina. Malon made his heart sing, but she also made him sing, and while her voice far outdid his own, it always made him happy to hear the two ringing together.

He’d once hoped, once he found out, that he’d one day hear Twilight’s voice rise up with theirs on some starlit evening, but after hearing his pup sing...

He loves Twilight like a son, but heaven forbid he ever force his wife to listen to that tone deaf mess!

Wild though, oh, Malon would love to tempt Wild into singing and guide him along until his voice could ring with hers. The child had the voice of a fairy, ethereal and inhuman, but in a way that made him feel light and airy and almost like he could fly.

“Well...” He wants very much to stand and walk over to Wild, but he was still trapped and Twilight was both a brick and incredibly strong, leaving him trapped until his pup is good and ready to wake up, something he fully believed Wild would prefer to prevent happening for the time being. “I can’t not hear it, Wild.”

“Try?” The kid pleads, eyes wide and face nearly purple from embarrassment.

“It’d be an insult to whoever created the voice to do so!” The words spilled out before he could stop them. He was supposed to reassure the kid, not make him panic more by pressuring him! “That is- Wild, you have the voice of an... I suppose Legend would say “an angel” whatever those really are. To be frank, I wouldn’t choose to forget it if I could.”

“I’m not a good singer.”

“Bullshit.”

The newest hero’s gaze shoots up to meet his own, shock written across scarred features at hearing him swear. “You-”

“Don’t tell Warriors.” He whispers with a wink- blink- whatever, it was meant as a wink, and hopefully Wild would read it as one.

“You swore.” Wild breathes

“And you lied.” He returns. “You’re a good singer. Confident, maybe not, but I thought I heard Maon when I first woke up, and unless you want to tell me that my wife has a poor singing voise-”

“No! Of course not!”

“Settled then.” He smiled. “You’re a good singer.”

The champion stares at him, ears twitching slowly and eyes blinking as he processes the words, before a light scowl pulls at the kid’s scars as he crosses his arms. “It- no!” At the grin he shoots at the kid, Wild whines softly. “Dad!”

Both freeze at that. Or rather, Time blinks repeatedly, shocked, and Wild’s hands fly up to his mouth, eyes wide and horrified.

“I’m sorry!” Wild blurts out, still hiding behind his hands. “I slipped I-”

Laughter, deep and rumbling enough that Twilight is happy grumbling against him in response, sounds through the camp as Time throws his head back. He can’t stop it, but he will embrace it. This is the best morning he’s had in ages and Hylia have him if he doesn’t take a moment to enjoy it! “You’re fine, Cub. I’ve been called much worse than that more than once. Unless of course,” He grins at the young hero, brows pulling down in a mock stare, even if he can’t hold his smile back to be convincing. “You think I’d be a bad one?”

“No! You’re an awesome- You’re going to be-” Wild is somehow redder than he was before and he stomps his foot almost petulantly as he catches on to the laughter that still rumbles in Time’s chest. “Time!”

“I don’t mind.” He rumbles out, and more than anything he wants to walk over and ruffle the kids hair, or wrap him in a hug, but he’s trapped by Twilight, and instead can only lift his free arm in an offer that Wild hesitates to take. He’s almost considering lowering his arm and rescinding his invitation when the champion barrels into his side, face buried in his shoulder as Golden hair fills his vision.

“I hate you.”

“Such disrespect to your father.” Time scolds playfully, gently pinching Wild’s ear and making the champion giggle at the touch. “What will your Mamalon say?”

“Ma-” Wild sits up again, staring down at him in confusion. “Mamalon?”

His lips pull into a smile again, something he’s done more this morning than he has nearly all week. “Something Legend calls her, which I’m stealing because she and I both like it.”

The champion’s eyes trail down to where scarred fingers still tangle into his tunic. “Can I call her that too?”

“Well,” He chuckles. “If I’m your Father Time, I think it’s only fair she’s you Mamalon.” At Wild’s smile he smirks. “Ad she’ll be delighted to learn you already know the family song, if only in part. Her mother wrote that for her you know, and I’m sure she’d love to teach you the rest of it. She taught it to me after all, and I used to sing as poorly as Twilight!”

Wild’s mouth opens and closes a few times as a light blush colors the kid’s cheeks before he shyly nods. “I’d- I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” And breakfast or no, Time thinks the others can wait for a half of a minute to eat after waking up, because if Twilight’s going to pin him down than he’s going to return the favor with his other son.

[innocent-chris-evans-slut]

Panties

My Masterlist

Ransom x Reader REQUEST

Word Count: 3,3k

Type: smut with fluff ending

Summary: You’re at a family party when Ransom realizes some clothing item is missing from your body. When you get back home he makes it clear how you should wear your underwear.

Warning(s): slapping, fingering, cum play, edging, rough fucking, breeding kink (?)

“Ransom?” you felt two firm hands on your shoulders and someone gently pushing you up, “What’s going on, babe?” you sweetly smiled at him and rested both your hands on his biceps.

He didn’t pay attention to you, he rather preferred talking straight to your mothe -with who you were exchanging some words before he could interrupt you-, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Y/L/N, but we really have to go”, your mother got up and smiled at him as if it was all normal, “Dear wify, why don’t you take your coat from the cloakroom and meet me at the front door?”

You were left with no choice, but to get up and walk to the entrance. You recovered your coat and scarf and just when you went back to the living room, searching for Ransom, he showed up right next to you.

“Ready to go?” he slipped his muscular, strong arm around your waist and, not so gently, dragged you to the entrance and then you went straight to his car, parked not far away from the main door of your parents’ house. He kept walking, not paying the slightest attention as you repeatedly asked him if he was feeling good.

You knew Ransom too well by then, and you were usual to his mood swings throughout the day, but it had never happened while at your family’s. He loved your parents and they had treated him as a son since the first time you’d brought him at home. Each time, you noticed how calm and relaxed he was when staying at your childhood’s house, maybe having a chat about sport with your father, or perhaps listening carefully to your mother’s stories about your youth.

That night he was beyond furious, you realized that by his wrinkled forehead and by the way he was tightening his fingers around the steering wheel. You sat down in the passenger seat in complete silence, staring outside your window as trees and other houses passed by.

“Give me your panties.”

Ransom’s order made you both shiver and slowly turn your head towards him with a questioning look on it, “What?” it came out more like a whisper than a question, but you didn’t care since it seemed he had heard it.

“Give me your fucking panties”, your husband was losing his patience and he hoped, from the bottom of his heart, he wasn’t right. At the first red traffic light he had to stop, he stared at you waiting for an answer.

On the other end, you didn’t know what to say, because you knew he would have got so mad if only he’d known the truth. So, you did the only thing you came up with: not answering him. You kept your eyes straight in front of you and you didn’t dare to focus on anything else.

Ransom decided to play your same game; he remained silent during all the way home -the only voices filling the cabin of the car came from the radio. You weren’t hearing them at all, if anything you were trying to justify the absence of your underwear.

Why did you do it in the first place? What did you want to prove Ransom?

You had been a fool and if you could do it, you would have happily gone back in time and wear your fucking panties before the dinner with your family.

The car stopped its ride inside the private garage of your house. Ransom threw a glance at you and got out of the car, without saying a word. At first you thought of not getting out of the car -not until he was there, compelling you with his eyes only- but you quickly understood neither of you were letting it go. So you gathered your purse from the backseat and opened the car door to get out of it, meanwhile Ransom didn’t take his eye off of you neither for a second.

In complete silence, you both walked inside the house -you leading the way-, you didn’t stopped in the living room as you were usual doing, instead you got upstairs and entered your bedroom. Ransom was quickly following behind you and, as you got in the bathroom, he didn’t waste any time and walked inside, just when you were about to close the door.

“Since when do we close doors when we’re changing?” his suspicious tone and his glare froze you on the spot. He looked at you, but the more he did it, the more he understood that you wouldn’t have answered his questions. He crossed his arms over his chest and, knowing better than you that you couldn’t move him, he placed himself just in front of the wide-opened door, “What? Did you suddenly become all shy?”

There was a moment of silence, before you collected all your courage and spoke up to him: “I’m not shy. I just want my privacy”, you replied trying to sound as certain as you could.

“Your privacy? Alright, let me check one thing before I leave you your privacy”, he made a step towards you and you backed off, wanting to escape his grasp. Though you couldn’t go anywhere else because there was no more space for you to move. He wrapped his left arm around your waist and held you up against the cold marble wall and gently pressed his lips against yours, giving birth to a passionate, yet chaste kiss.

It was very different from the ones you were used to sharing with your husband, especially after an argument like the one you had in the afternoon. Your neighbors had probably heard your screams and Ransom throwing random things against the wall hundreds of meters away from your mansion.

When you felt his not-so-gentle touch brushing against your butt, you were suddenly wakening up from your thoughts and, as you understood what he was doing to you, you pushed him away from yourself.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you shouted practically in his face and forced him to take his hands off of your body, “What’s going on with you today?”

“With me?” Ransom pushed himself off the wall and kept going: “I noticed my wife not wearing any underwear at a family party and I am the one who shouldn’t be angry? Now, tell me-“ he fiercely cupped your face and made you look into his blue eyes, “-why you weren’t wearing your fucking panties?” his tone was harsh and commanding, the one you couldn’t deny had a certain effect on you -and on specific parts of your body, “I’m not asking a second time, sweetie”.

“I though you’d like it,” you said in an innocent tone, hoping he would be more indulgent with you, although you knew the damage was already done.

“On the bed, now!”

You turned your back at him and slowly made your way towards the king-sized bed in the center of the room. The mattress sank at your weight on it as you sat down in the middle of it, facing the door of the bathroom and your husband, shoulder resting against the frame of it and arms crossed over his chest.

“Handcuffs on” Ransom was well aware of the effect his orders had on you, in fact he didn’t have to get closer to state the condition you were in. Your husband knew you too well, each order of his sent a shiver to your backbone and made your pussy throbbing -though you didn’t want to show him. When you saw you fasten them around both your wrists, he slowly approached you.

You knew what your husband expected to see and, even though your tipsy brain wanted you to disobey him, your body rejected that idea. You were seated in the middle of the bed, your wrists firmly handcuffed to the headboard; you opened your legs wide, showing Ransom your wet pussy, and licked your upper lip -your gaze never moving from his face.

Ransom pulled his phone out of his trousers and took a picture of your face; “Nice smile, baby,” then he threw it away and together with it his suit, “What a pity you’ll lose it soon.”

“Wha-“ your talking was cut off by Ransom throwing something in your mouth, it was soft but still you couldn’t articulate any word -even if you tried your best.

“All I wanna hear tonight is my balls and my palms hitting your ass. Not a sound or I won’t let you cum until tomorrow morning, did I make myself clear?” once he had seen you nodding, he said: “You though I would have like it. Now I’ll show you what I really like,” Ransom unfastened his belt and with a swift motion removed it from the loops in the trousers.

Your eyes followed his movements as he folded it and held it proudly in his hand. His fingers traced the line in the middle of your torso, diverting towards your nipples and pinching them hard. You shivered at his touch but managed to stay as still as possible -only imagining which punishment he had in store for you. You squinted your eyes and arched your back as you felt the cold leather going down on your bump.

“Did I say you can close your eyes?” Ransom asked in a harsh tone, grabbing your chin, “Was that a whimper what I heard?” his belt went down on you again, striking your breast this time. His eyes were fix on the saliva dropping from your chin straight to your throat; he brought his hand to your torso and spread it on the red area between your tits, “Will you remember my punishment next time?” without waiting for your answer, the black leather item hit your wet pussy and you tried your best to hold back a whimper.

Ransom let the belt fall on the carpet under the bed and moved away from where you were standing, then he turned his back at you and rummaged in the dresser next to the bathroom door. Your mind was too hazy for you to focus on him; that was the reason why you didn’t see him pushing the recording button on the little remote which controlled the camera on the bed.  

When he went back looking at you, your chest was quickly raising up and down, your hips desperately moving right to left, your legs slightly shaking, “I still haven’t touched you and you’re already trembling?” but his gaze was soon caught by your pulsating pussy. Any distance between the two of you disappeared when Ransom climbed onto the mattress and started caressing your legs, gesture which had you shivering, “You didn’t think about this when going out without panties, did you?” he watched as you shook your head, though your eyes never left his, “Yeah, I know. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be punishing you now,” his fingers moved to your inner thigh, only to go back to your knees soon after, “What a shame you can’t talk. Now I don’t know what you want,” he mocked you and was blessed by the view of you struggling to pronounce a complete sentence, “Maybe you want me to tickle you,” his hand went to your hips, “or maybe, you want me to leave you like this all night long,” he hinted at getting out of the room, and so abandoning your hot and wet body laying there. Yet your knee bounced up as he made a move to get off the bed and the movement had him looking back at you, “That isn’t right, bunny?” Ransom trailed his fingers up to your core, “That’s where you want me,” and he slid one finger inside your pussy, his thumb began drawing circles on your clit.

After a couple of thrusts, Ransom pulled out his finger from you and dropped your juices on your bottom stomach, spreading them immediately after, “Only one finger can’t do anything to you, right?” his fingers went back to your clit, pinching it hard, “You’re such a slut, you dream about cocks filling each hole of yours, don’t you?” Ransom watched as you arched your back, overwhelmed by the pleasure as he started to give you come release with his thumb. You were brutally brought back to reality once his hands came down brutally on your tits. He didn’t say anything this time, stuffing two fingers inside your cunt.

Again, he gave you a couple of thrusts and ripped them out all of a sudden. The fabric inside your mouth prevented you from letting out a moan and you kept your eyes on him, as your husband smirked at the sight of you writhing beneath him, “And you married me, knowing how well I can fulfill all your desires,” again, he spread your transparent juices over your belly and went down again. This time he added other two fingers inside you, and he began thrusting into you at a faster pace. You started sweating and your vision -now fixed on the roof- became blurred; your walls started clenching around Ransom’s fingers and you were finally coming to your high, yet you regain your focus when you felt yourself empty.

Your eyes came back on him and you moaned as you watched him gathering all your liquids and bringing them close to your face. Warning wasn’t something Ransom was used to, so you held your breath when you felt something dripping on your cheeks and lips. You suddenly opened your eyes and watched as your husband kept his hand above your head and made your cum falling from it, “Be a good slut and open your mouth for me,” as you did what he asked, he inserted his fingers in your mouth, which closed around them. Your tongue began licking and sucking on them -much as you could, considered the cloth inside your mouth-, cleaning them off from everything, “You thought you’d cum, didn’t you?” he moved closer to you, his knees at both your sides and his hands slowly stimulating your nipples. He stopped abruptly and brought both his hands around your neck, pushing you down on the mattress, “Let me make this clear: you don’t get to cum until I say so. If you do, I’ll have to punish you again.”

If you had been able to talk, you would have told him that frowning really didn’t suit him. His face was what you felt for and, if you had worn your underwear correctly, you would have been kissing it at the moment -and definitely not trying to avoid his punishment.

“Do you understand?” Ransom grabbed your chin and you nodded forcefully. He surprised you when he removed from your mouth the piece of fabric, which he unfolded in front of your eyes and then placed on your chest, “If you had worn them, we wouldn’t be here right now,” he stroked your cheek, swiping away the strained mascara on them, “Need your answer, bunny.”

“Yes,” it came out rasping, so much that you had to clear your throat before saying it again. His hands gliding onto your body had you shiver and you unvoluntary moved your hips as you felt his fingers skillfully play with your wet folds, and his thumb reached again your clit, “Please, Ransom,” you closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, “I can’t hold it anymore.”

As if he hadn’t listened to your pleas, he got down the bed and undid the buttons of his trousers, letting them fall onto the ground. His underwear was kept on and, for the umpteenth time during the night, Ransom climbed on the mattress again. He placed himself between your wide-opened legs and bent over your body, his face a few inches away from yours that you only had to stick out your lips to touch his, his hands at both sides of your head, “Cat got your tongue? You don’t feel like talking anymore?”

Indeed, he was ignoring your cry for some kind of release.

You got you couldn’t take it anymore when you felt his boner slowly, yet firmly slamming against your pussy, “You know, I’ve got this boner on all the evening,” his fingers removed a lock of your hair from your forehead and halted it behind your ear, “Watching you acting like the perfect daughter around your family. Do you parents know you like being tied up at the bed like this?” he stretched out and took the handcuffs between his hands, “Maybe I should show them the cute video we are recording,” he said turning his head to look straight at the camera, and you did the same.

“Please, Ransom, n-“ you didn’t have the time to finish your sentence, since your remained breathless when a harsh slap hit your pussy, making you twitch, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, daddy.”

“Much better,” he said in a satisfied tone, though he still didn’t seem kind enough to finally make you cum, “Tell me, bunny, how should I fuck you tonight?” he kept rubbing his hard, yet clothed, cock on your cunt and each rub caused you to moan, “You know what? Today has been a long day, I’m tired,” he quickly lowered his boxers and took his rigid member in his hand, while the other one went pinching your clit, “Brace yourself, bunny, this is your punishment for tonight’s behavior,” he didn’t give you any time to prepare yourself. He just slammed into you hard and all at once, his balls hitting your thighs, his tip deep buried inside you.

You could have taken him also every day, but you would never get used to his size: Ransom was something you’d never experienced, big and thick, capable of filling you completely. You threw your head back and shut your eyes as you tried your best not to scream, considered the speed with which he was pounding into you.

“Talk. Tell me how you feel,” Ransom didn’t go any slower and saw as you struggled to find the words with which describe what was going on.

“God, da-ddy,” you breathed in, “you’re so de-ep in-inside me,” tears were staring to forming at the corners of your eyes, “y-your tip is-“ you let out a deep moan and he kept hitting your g-spot, “it is hi-hitting th-that spot-t,” you felt your cheeks becoming hotter and your fingers began shaking as you felt your climax approaching.

Ransom felt how your walls started clenching around his cock and he knew he was about to cum too, “I’m coming, bunny, I’ll paint your walls in white and you will take all the cum I’ll give you as the good slut you are.”

“Yes. Please, daddy, make me pregnant with your child. Please, daddy,” you screamed.

He picked up such a frantic pace that the headboard started banging against the wall and your pornographic moans did it for him. Not much seconds later his cum was released inside you as you reached, finally, your orgasm to, “Let’s see how they get out, disobeying like their mother, or vengeful like their father?”

You closed your eyes and let your body relax once and for all, you turned your head on the pillow and whispered: “Thank you, daddy. Thank you for your cum. It was so good.”

You were about to fall asleep when you felt your ankles and wrists being released and your body being carefully lifted off the soft mattress, “I can’t take anymore, please.”

“You aren’t taking anything, babe,” Ransom’s voice was soft and caring. He put you down inside the bath tube already filled with hot water and your favorite bubble bath, “Let me take care of you,” he quickly got in behind you and made you lay against his chest while he massaged your body, paying much attention on your wrists and ankles.

Your chest was still sensitive from the slaps, but he gently caressed it, too, and then went massaging your shoulders, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my baby,” he whispered to your ear as he covered your body in bubbles, “But next time wear your underwear,” he chuckled and you did the same, leaving a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll try.”

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