#thinking critically about why i like admire something about the work other people do would both help assuage that

[vriskabot]

at that point where i kinda want to make a spreadsheet or document or SOMETHING keeping track of the artists i like and why with links to wherever their gallery is kept just as a sort of. shorthand reference

[homosexualcitron]

you know i think people expect too much of all these new social medias.. is it a big deal if it doesn't go anywhere.. can i just enjoy the moment

[rxmxa]

𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐮𝐩 ❤️‍🔥

my ideas + observations on what lilith aspects might look like in daily life <3

Lilith-Sun Aspects: Getting noticed right away by people especially when a group setting, being liked by people on the surface level but secretly they disapprove or frown at your actions when you turn around, men judging you, standing your ground at all costs, not knowing when to back down, being a natural leader, challenging societal norms with who you are and forms of self expression, walking into a meeting or class wearing a bold outfit and peoples heads turning but not a word is uttered, getting dress-coded at work or school, your boss or teachers feeling uncomfortable to say something to you, people feeling like you are being "messy" when you question the norms, not addressing rumors. knowing you're gonn stir things up when you are walking into rooms and not caring, being told to change, being told you're too much, men wanting to date you but then wishing you would be "easy to work with" or wanting to date you and then get mad when they can't dominate you, you thinking "what don't they fucking understand? I just don't want to be like them" being afraid of your individuality not being recognized that you go to extremes at some moments

Lilith-Moon aspects: the type of people to actually answer with the truth when you ask them how they're doing and then you're kind of shook because you thought they were gonna sugarcoat and be like "I'm fine" being painfully honest or blunt, talking about feelings considered taboo (like no one really likes to talk about how they are jealous or bitter or other shit like that, they just hide it or project it) but lilith-moon will say they're feeling that shit. this reminds of the song wildflower by billie eilish. this aspect is women talking shit about you, having trauma with you, women in your life judging you or pointing fingers at you for not falling into the "good girl" category. being told you're wrong for how you feel, feeling intense or moody and other people being able to pick up on it, other people seeing you as magnetic but also unpredictable and they can admire you for being real with them but it also might scare them, mom saying you are a wild child or just too much to deal with when you get "emotional", you wanting to yell "no im not fucking okay and im not gonna sit here and pretend I am"

Lilith-Venus aspects: men want you and see being with you as a challenge, they want to be with you to show off but then get mad when they cant change you, being called a "tease" or saying that you lead people on, men lying about you, spreading rumors about you, men saying they "talked to you" or dated you after texting you LMAOOO.. just fucking lying! being villanized for your beauty, your beauty feeling like its making you a target, women seeing you as competition, women spreading rumors about your beauty (oh she probably got this and this done or oh she shes only pretty because xyz), men in relationships looking at you and thinking you are manipulating them when you're not doing anything, feeling like anything venus related (beauty, art, relationships) in your life gets distorted, your relationships always feeling like a battlefield, being sensual + in tune with your femininity and then people expect you to tone it down, you might do something like wear red lipstick or heels or a nice dress and be told its too much but someone without this energy in their chart probs wouldnt get that reaction, you wondering "what's the difference between me and her? Why do they treat her like that and me like this?"

Lilith-Mercury aspects: being blunt, hurting someones feelings without meaning to, getting criticized for whatever you say, trying to be more "polite" but then it feels so exhausting, cursing a lot, cursing from a very young age and/or in professional settings, saying what other people refuse to say for the sake of being polite or because its a "superior" this is the person that in the meeting will the supervisor "In my opinion, this isnt a good idea and it isnt helpful to us", people talking shit behind your back, the person who dissects other peoples words down to the stutter, punctuation and fucking COMMA! How did they say it? What word did they say first? lilith-mercury will read between the lines and force you to say what you are refusing to say or putting in a passive aggressive manner, might refuse to engage with passive agressive people until they say it with their chest, "could you repeat that?" energy, "what did you mean by that?" energy knowing damn well what they meant, talking about politics at the dinner table during the family reunion, talking about sex in the break room at work, playing the devils advocate, reading smut, writing smut, loving dirty talk. trying to use their words for something good but people always making them feel like everything they say is just always wrong, pausing before they strike with their tongue, hating small talk, feeling uncomfy with small talk, people trauma dumping or ovesharing or vice versa, feeling suspcious of people that use pretty words with them, they wonder "What do they want from me? They're trying to get something from me...."

Lilith-Mars aspects: the first to get to moving and get shit down, getting easily annoyed at people that dont have the same drive, being angry at weak people or people that cant keep their word, "Are you gonna help or just fucking stand there?", being seen as abrassive, people avoiding you or shrinking back because of it, men wanting to compete with you, people feeling threatened by your ambition, the type to get nice things in life and people spread rumors that you had to xyz to get it, people thinking you're being confrontational or too angry when you address something face to face and up front, feeling out of control with your anger as a kid, people trying to push your buttons to try to get a reaction of you and then acting shocked when they do, fiercely independent in their routines, working out intensely, craving intensity in relationships, lines blurring between love and war "If I'm going to be the bad guy might as well get something out of it"

Lilith-Saturn aspects: a major dislike of authoritative figures, feeling resentful at being told what to do, wanting to do the opposite of what you do, "im not following this rule just because its always been followed", setting your own standards and expectations, "I prefer to find out for myself", questioning the system or cultural and societal norms and traditions that you find antiquated or unfair, people respecting you for your disciple but wishing you were easier to boss around, other people saying you're too cold or detached but you just dont wanna give them the chance to fuck you over, finding peace in the space between order and chaos and you perfecting that mix, wondering if life would be easier if you were "softer", choosing to form your own opinions on people, "thanks but I can decide for myself", feeling like you're held to expectations other people aren't

Lilith-Pluto aspects: not afraid to talk about the ugly shit in life, the taboo, trauma, control, power struggles, fear, jealousy because youve been familiar with it before, people being a little afraid of you, people saying youre too intense or even dangerous, people projecting onto you and getting mad or "disgusted" with you when you see right through them, being able to pick up on changes in peoples mannerisms, digging deeper in conversations, people suddenly confessing things to you, people not understanding why they feel drawn to your presence, people either approach it or go in the other direction, you come across as someone who has been through a lot but its only made you stronger, "im not afraid of the dark parts of life", going through something traumatic and years later thinking about it and coming to realization that you wouldn't change a thing, that it made you who you are, being okay with being seen as the villian in someones story

[mormshaw]

I HAVE to address this MHA leak. This is getting out of hand. I think you guys may actually like this chapter if you pause and take a deep breath.

First, I rarely post about this kind of thing as I hate getting caught up in fandom drama- very few things take the enjoyment out of something quicker than people being pissy to each other (and to creators) because something didn’t go how you imagine.

BUT.

I need to say a few words in the defence of this new chapter, and I think there are a lot of really positive things going on that can be chalked up to character GROWTH and not character ASSASSINATION as everyone has been yelling about. Things that actually really tie up three really great characters in healthy ways, and in ways that also highlight the themes of moving forward and reaching out hands that the author has been pushing. I’m not going to address Ochaco’s growth here, which is also good, but I need to discuss the Baku-Deku stuff.

I’d like to preface all of the following with one important thing: when I read and watched MHA I never once incorporated SHIPPING into my enjoyment of these characters. It wasn’t the part of the text I was interested in. Did I think there were some cute moments between Izuku and Ochaco? Yep. But that’s about as far as it went for me. I also fully expected from day one that they would end up together because that’s how these kinds of stories in this genre go. I will also say that the character dynamics and growth between Izuku and Bakugo was something that is generally well done and a key aspect of why both those characters are so enjoyable for me-one of my favourite parts.

So, when I read these leaks, I actually found a bunch that I think tied up these characters really well.

I’m going to start with the big elephant-in-the-room one that everyone has been freaking out over. The: “Izuku would never turn down an offer to work in an agency with Bakugo that’s just so not him and he’s awful and I’ll never forgive him” thing that I just can’t…understand why people are angry about. This is a GOOD thing.

One of the things I actually sort of critical about in the INITIAL ending was that Izuku seemed like he still wasn’t putting himself first. One of the things that especially Bakugo KNEW to be the case about Izuku was he “never thinks of himself” and how self-destructive that was. We saw it time and time again- he was always sacrificing things for other people: his health, his time, even his QUIRK were sacrificed for OTHERS. He never put his own self-interest FIRST. He grew in strength, he grew and matured as a HERO, but part of saving people means also knowing how to save yourself.

The initial epilogue had this air of ‘he’s sacrificed something and he’s incomplete due to that’. Others (Bakugo and class 1-A) stepped up to help him fill that hole with the suit, and that thematically worked, but there was still a gap there for Izuku’s growth. I think this chapter completes his arc in the best possible way. Izuku did something purely for himself. He LEARNED that last lesson he needed to learn. AND he did it by ALSO helping Bakugo learn a lesson too.

Bakugo offers, in sort of a round about way, for Izuku to join his agency as a sidekick. He’s turned down other sidekicks because they thought he was amazing and wanted to be in his shadow. He wanted a sidekick that would say they would ‘surpass’ him. For Bakugo that has always been what he admired (and sometimes resented) about Izuku- Izuku wasn’t afraid to say that he would push himself to be better than Bakugo, and in doing so they both made themselves stronger.

But I’d argue that this rivalry was an endless cycle for both of these characters- not an opportunity for them to change how they saw each other. Izuku would surpass Bakugo and Bakugo would work to surpass Izuku on and on for eternity. Bakugo even mentions this in the hospital- that he hoped they would get to compete with each other “for the rest of their lives”. BUT that would also mean they would NEVER be more than rivals to each other.

When Izuku turns down Bakugo’s offer to be his sidekick, Izuku ISN’T saying “no, I don’t value you or what you did for me with the suit”. He’s saying, “I know what you did for me and I’m thankful for you, but I have to make my own choices separate from you.” Izuku is NOT Bakugo’s sidekick, or vice versa. They are adults that should have their own separate goals and lives. And, in a way, he’s also telling Bakugo, “you are your OWN person. You don’t need ME to be stronger. Keep pushing yourself forward on your OWN terms.”

And that’s the thing about Bakugo- from day one his growth has been DEFINED by Izuku. He’s pushed himself forward almost entirely because of how he sees Izuku, as a rival and, in some cases, as someone who he has to constantly try to live up to. That isn’t particularly HEALTHY. Bakugo sacrificed his LIFE to “catch up to Izuku.” Like, great acknowledgement of Izuku’s ability and moving on from being a bully, but not a physically healthy thing to do. There were a couple things about the initial epilogue that made me a little edgy because while Bakugo grieved the loss of OFA almost more than Izuku did (which was growth, and interesting growth), then worked tirelessly to get Izuku the suit, he did it because he wanted Izuku to keep being his RIVAL.

When Izuku turned down the offer to be his sidekick, but in the same scene also says he can’t wait to work as a hero again with his friends and see Bakugo MORE OFTEN as a guest lecturer in his Hero classes (which like, I don’t see why people are pissed about since that’s literally one of the biggest fanfic ideas people have been writing about since chapter 430 dropped), it actually shows how much more GROWN UP these two ARE. Izuku is acknowledging Bakugo as not only an EQUAL (not someone to chase after), but also a FRIEND. Someone he looks forward to seeing and working with. In fact, Bakugo saying “see you” isn’t a goodbye. It’s a PROMISE.

The panels of Izuku walking away are actual true character growth for BOTH of them. Izuku putting himself and his choices first, and Bakugo, for the first actual time in the ENTIRE SERIES feels like he doesn’t have to chase after Izuku. He can let themselves walk their own paths!

And, because the writing is actually better than you guys are giving it credit for, this choice actually does give them opportunity to still compete because Izuku will be on the chart now as an independent agent (because remember he’s not rejecting the suit and hero work, he’s incorporating hero work into a teaching career he’s ALSO grown to love and is good at). So now, as Izuku starts climbing the charts on his own (which he will because it’s Izuku we’re talking about), they can still push each other forward ANYWAY so like…that’s a GOOD thing. It’s like having your cake and eating it too, for BOTH of them.

Take off the shipper hats for a moment. And really LOOK at this scene. Is it kind of sad they won’t work together every day? Maybe. Does it mean they are growing apart and will never see each other? NO. They are closer than ever because now they are EQUALS and FRIENDS- neither is ahead of the other.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Overprotective!Yandere X GN!Reader

Women in the office gawked at Theo as he walked by, shamelessly refusing to peel their eyes from the Adonis who walked among them. With dark wavy hair that framed his beauty mark speckled face and droopy emerald eyes always set into a warm smile, he was model material, yet refused to believe it. Theo was kind to everyone he spoke to, but no one could gain his full attention, and affection. That was reserved for his one and only best friend ❤️

❤️ Theo who was Reader's best friend since kindergarten

💀 Every life path Reader took, Theo took as well. They were his best friend, he just happened to have the same interests as Reader!

❤️ Besides, he didn't go to the same college as them and got into the same company in the same sales department just because he was good at numbers like Reader... he also needed to protect them!

💀 Reader was always a hard worker, they would often forget to eat meals while working overtime and would only sleep two hours a night if Theo wasn't there to gently keep them on track

❤️ And despite everyone referring to Reader as a cynical workaholic, Theo knew deep down that they were far too trusting

💀 Remember that girl in grade four who confessed to Reader at recess? Reader turned her down far too kindly! They made her think it was actually okay to be friends! Thank goodness Theo was there to threaten the kid to stay away protect his best friend from that weirdo

❤️ People often mistook the pair of besties for a couple, and that was just ridiculous!

💀 Yeah, the idea of Reader calling Theo their husband, kissing Reader's forehead each and every night, and instead of just tucking them into bed joining them in their shared bed made his heart clench in a funny way... they were just friends!

❤️ Just friends that were also roommates. The economy is terrible right now, just because they make enough money to live alone, didn't it make more sense to live together and save money?

💀 And Theo enjoyed cooking nutritional meals for his best friend! No instant ramen for Reader while Theo's around!

❤️ No, it wasn't jealousy whenever someone started hitting on Reader, he was just worried for them!

"Don't you think Jackson's a bit... creepy?" Theo asked his buddy while prepping dinner one night. Reader glanced up from their work laptop only briefly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Ah, I don't mean to sound rude! I'm sorry.. I just overheard him saying something pretty gross about Mrs. Kim.."

Jackson had asked Reader to grab a drink with him sometime just the other day, and he seemed like a genuinely kind dude. But Reader trusted Theo with their life, and wouldn't question anything he ever said, believing their best friend was simply incapable of lying. Reader grunted and went back to work, and Theo knew by that sound his bestie wasn't going out with Jackson anytime soon.

💀 Theo who could never admit to anyone, not even himself, that his relationship with Reader wasn't a healthy "friendship"

❤️ Convincing himself that his actions were completely normal things for friends to do was almost a full time job

💀 Sometimes he watched Reader sleep, admiring how their eyelashes fluttered as they dreamt ensuring that they were actually sleeping and not sneaking onto their computer

❤️ And breaking down into full blown hysterics when Reader doesn't text him back is just because he's so worried for them

💀 Reader always saw the error in their ways though, apologizing profusely when they finally came home from grocery shopping and seeing the results of forgetting to charge their phone

❤️ It was an especially hard day when Theo had to cut off his own mother. She said Theo was codependent on Reader! Reader doesn't know this though, they just heard that Theo's mother was criticizing their friendship

Reader was stopped at the front door, Theo draping his large frame over his best friend, his large eyes watering. "Please don't leave, (Reader)."

They sighed, wriggling an arm free to mess with Theo's hair. "The fridge is almost empty, dude."

"But it's raining outside!" Theo raised is voice unintentionally as he began to panic, spiraling into an anxiety attack. "What if you get sick? Please just stay home, I can order take out. Let's go shopping tomorrow!"

"Theo.."

"Please!" A sob choked out of the man as he seemingly lost his strength, collapsing against Reader as he stained their jacket with his tears. "I just want to keep you safe!"

Reader gave in, as they always did, guilt stabbing at their heart until they could calm Theo down and convince him they weren't leaving.

Even if Reader never fell in love with Theo, the man would be content just to be by Reader's side, forever being their one and only best friend. As long as he could continue protecting them, from bad dates conspiring to ruin Reader's life, from management that continuously accepted Reader's overtime volunteering, and from Reader's own silly bad choices... Theo was happy.

[taebaelee]

Posted this on a small subreddit, but wanted to post here as well. For the new game, while part of me enjoyed playing some of it, I do really think it's such a disservice to be able to really call it a Dragon Age game when the writers stripped away any nuances by trying to make everything black or white; everything feels very basic and borderline cartoonish at points.

Anything morally gray is non-existent and you have no real influence in the game. No matter what you do, you are forced as the player to play a super friendly (or chaotic-good) at best protagonist with no opinions on the world of Thedas. This is what makes this not feel like a Dragon Age game to me.

This isn't super long, but there are spoilers under the cut as to why I feel this way. I do speak very critically about the new game, so please do not read if you think it may offend you as that is not my intention; this is more of a therapeutic rant for me and fellow DA lovers who feel disappointed about the writing.

While people can argue on how the previous games handle the situations involving anti/pro mages, templars, elves, the chantry, etc-- you can't even talk/argue about literally ANYTHING in the world with anyone as these ideas simply do not exist in the game OR are introduced but with a narrative already framed around it by the writers ideals.

- Factions/groups you work with are too virtuous. We could have had such deep and complex dynamics with the factions and how their backgrounds change your relationship with the characters in the world, or how the party members interacted with each other. Instead, none of it really matters as the game sanitizes the world around the groups to make the party members and factions palatable to the masses. A literal criminal organization, the Threads, is shown in a more positive light because while they commit other crimes, they don't deal in slavery? The Lords of Fortune (who are mainly mercenaries) would return cultural artifacts to the ethnic group they belong to-- they loot and steal, but are morally conscious enough to not steal from other cultures? The Antivan Crows who canonly bought and enslaved children, who made said children prove themselves through gruesome tests that sometimes included killing their own peers, are now played out like they're justice fighters. The the closet the game gets to showing any of the truth is small party banter you may miss with Lucanis saying his training was like torture, but it is to never be discussed again.

- The characters all get along way too well. Rook can't ask a character's opinion on the other factions, races, classes, religions, etc-- let alone reply back with their own thoughts that may go against the members views as we don’t really even get to see their opinions on them. Whenever the disapproval bubble pops up, which it rarely does, it does not change anything and it is not brought up again. There seems to be no consequences with your party members based on your choices, which makes the characters likeness towards you feel unearned as they seem to have no agency of their own. In DAI, if Cassandra has low approval then you can get a scene where you call her pathetic as she's stumbling over drunk and yells at you for ‘coddling mages’ or in high approval she can have a scene where she says something along the line 'while she doesn’t agree with everything you have done, she admires you.’ or in DAO Zevran can either betray you and go back with Taliesen/Crows or he can tell Taliesen he is not going back. Even something as small as the characters greetings change based on approval status when you visit them at skyhold. There are tons of examples I could give from previous games, but not a single cut scene seems to change with your companions outside of the final decision you make for them at the end of their companion quests. And to add on top of this, the party members all get along perfectly. If they disagree it is quickly resolved and moved on. Where are my Fenris and Anders fights or Vivienne and Solas sassy quips towards one another?

- No religious themes in the new game feels so out of place as this game literally changes the fundamentals of religious beliefs in the world of Thedas and could cause for a complete uproar with those that believe in the Maker and Chantry. The first game opens with an excerpt from the Chant of Light explaining the origins of the Blight and the Chantrys version of the truth and the whole mage/templar battle which is such a major theme (especially in DA2) in this series is due to the Chantry and this new info shows that the Chantry is wrong (or partially) and this can actually be completely missed behind a side-quest? Also, are we supposed to believe that all the Dalish just know Solas is better than Elgar'nan now? Strife say something along the lines that while Solas may be a bastard he is better than the other Evunaris" WHEN WAS THIS ESTABLISHED? Solas directly talks about how when he tried to tell the Dalish his identity they either didn't believe him or attacked him for being the God of Lies and Trickery. Yes, it has been a few years, and more may know the truth now... but how many as according to the old games the Dalish WORSHIPPED the ground Elgar'nan walked. If so many like Solas now from knowing the truth suddenly, where are all the followers for the Dreadwolf? Not only do we not have any missions regarding the agents of Fen'harel, we don't run into any at all.

- This sounds bad out of context, but where is the slavery/racism? I know a lot of people wanted them to tone some of it down, but for it to be completely removed just does no feel right when Tevinter is canonly known to be the worst place for slavery when it is openly practiced and legal... Also, playing as an elf feels very out of place during an undercover quest with the Venatori, but they already had them working for Elgar'nan which doesn't really add up either; so I guess they are just fine with Evles now after thousands of years...

- None of the previous games matter. While fundamentally, each game has their own story, I liked seeing the cameos of characters reflect past choices. One, of many examples, would be that we got to see Alistair either become a drunk in DA2 and forgotten by the narrative; or have him become a King or Grey Warden in DAI where you can even ask him about the Hero of Ferelden and his answers are different depending on how you played the game! Now we have some characters return but as a blank slate as the writers did not want to invalidate previous choices, but essentially let the characters' cameos fall flat because of this. What is the point of a character returning if they don’t reflect the character I know and helped them become what they are today through my choices?

I know I have a lot of negatives even when I said I liked part of the game, but it is a huge disappointment as the reasons above are what made me LOVE the series with it being so enriched with its environment and now it feels like a hollow shell of itself.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

I know practise is the one true way to get better at something: but what other tips do you have for others to improve their writing? What has worked for you? What hasn't?

How long have you (and Vinelle) been writing?

All my writing tips are here.

Generally though, here's a few things off the top of my head.

Just Do it

You got it, the only way to get better is practice, and that means sit down and write. Don't get intimidated by a blank page, something is better than nothing, but also don't be afraid to rewrite an entire thing if you need to.

Just sit down and do it.

Get Someone to Look at it, Get Their Real Opinion

Get someone to look at your work and ask for honest feedback. Ideally, this is someone whose writing you admire/think you can learn from. Regardless, though, you have to make it clear that you're not afraid of honest to god criticism and do actually want to improve.

A lot of people I see asking for advice substitute it for asking someone to a) validate their writing b) tell them only when they have a few typos. This encouragement is nice, crucial even, but it won't help you improve.

You have to be willing to be honest with yourself and have others be honest with you in turn.

Read Everything

Read things that are good, read things that are bad, think about why you find them to be good or bad.

What Doesn't Work

Any cheap trick that will tell you "all you need to be a good writer is to do A, B, and C, and always avoid D" if it was that easy, everyone would be Shakespeare.

Character sheets are nonsense. They turn whatever character you have into a 2-D pile of waffle. If a character is only a pile of traits, likes and dislikes, they fail to be real on a page. And you can almost always tell what quirky character came from a character sheet.

There are no golden dos or don'ts. Having a character more powerful than other characters isn't always bad. Having a character with 'flaws' doesn't always make them good and complex.

The Hero's Journey and other plot structures are helpful only to a limited degree. Yes, you need a climax and catharsis, but don't marry yourself to a particular outline and tell yourself that you can't stray from it because you have to follow the structure.

You got anything, @therealvinelle?

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The following is not a COVID related ask. This is a William related ask. (And also a bit of a rant from an impulsive defender of normal things people do in their regular normal things)

During the Olympics, ie., peak summer time, Catherine was smack vamg in the middle of her treatment. Whether it was immunotherapy or chemo is anyone's guess, but we know she was still doing it. And it had just about been 6 months since her major abdominal surgery, where they likely took parts of some vital organ out which had cancer.

Now, all of that is not made-up. It's from her own statements and palace briefings. Understand the gravity of the situation - an organ taken out! Months and months of chemo! That's huge! It's brutal. It's scary. And everyday is different. It takes a toll on the patient. And on those around them. The patient may not look sick enough to satisfy the cynics, and may even get out of the house and (horror of all horrors!) look happy. But they are still under major stress.

So, it's perfectly acceptable and even admirable that William (or any husband) would choose to stay close, remain in the country and be with their wife and take care of the emotional needs of their wife and children during this time. Instead of attending the Olympics, which for him would have been officical royal work.

They diployed Anne, tim, Sophie for that. And they did amazing work with the Team GB. How and why is that not important enough for the sentiments of some cynics??

And going to the concert, with their children and friends. And to a game is perfectly normal. Infact, going to a game of football is like blood and oxygen to most British people. It's that normal. Going to the pub is beyond normal. Where else would you eat on a Sunday?? Call it culture or whatever, it's just a very regular thing. It's not something that William or any other dad should be criticized for.

But of course, if you are looking for reasons to get offended...or to find fault...then sure. Go ahead. No matter how much I, or other anons or RTA herself tries to explain won't matter.

Which brings me to .... I think this excesstcditicism of William over small things is beginning to look like deliberate sabotage in the media. Like an orchestrated pr campaign that targets people to change public opinion. I know it's par for course in the media to be critical of royals. And they can't say anything bad about the king, the queen, Anne or the Edinburghs. So that only leaves William and Kate. But it's so illogical.

Add to that, Harry's rehab attempts. The bizzare justifications of why Charles wants him back (which seems more manifestation that reality) and how William is the only stubborn grump blocking poor little lost Hawwwwy ... It looks like someone is carrying out a long-term destabilisation of Williams public image. It's slow but it's been happening very deliberately since late last year.

Which I think would coincide with Harry's attempts to get back to UK and the desolution of his marriage. Hints of cam's PR rehab over 20 years. I think this is Harry's British PR firm working in the dark that we are seeing.

I’m getting “Camilla’s PR rehab” vibes too now, especially after that Express article arguing sympathy for Harry because Hollywood exploited him.

The sad thing is that a lot of us predicted Charles would do something like this and that he’d try to expedite Harry’s image rehabilitation because he just doesn’t have the kind of time for a 20-year strategy. We’ll see if it works.

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.8K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

I had a real rough time figuring out the proper voice for Pedro's dialogue and I hope I did him justice. Either way, the support I received for part 1 is astounding and completely unexpected! Thank you all for reading and let me know what you think :) I plan to continue until the story wraps up, but I don't know how many parts that will be. I hope to post every couple days, but with my work schedule it may be less speedy. Here we go!

You walk in the door, unclipping Skip's leash, slipping off your shoes, and dropping your keys on the countertop before flopping onto the couch and unlocking your phone. No. Fucking. Way. 

Pedro Pascal (pascalispunk) replied to your message. 

You dissected each letter of the username, assuming it couldn't possibly be THE Pedro Pascal… but it was. It really, really was. You clicked the message, holding your breath.

Pedro Pascal replied to you: "Hey, you don't need to thank me. I didn't say anything that wasn't true. That guy was out of line. You deserve happiness and I'm sorry for the harsh words you've been hearing. I appreciate you sharing your vulnerability with the world and hope that you will continue to be your genuine self and ignore the comments trying to make you be someone else. Don't listen to those people."

You stared in disbelief at his words, once again wondering why he would ever be so kind to someone he doesn't even know. Someone so childish and stupid to write a song about a man she doesn't know. I can't imagine he'd think these things if he knew it was about him…

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I'm a big fan of yours and hearing that you're in my corner has me completely at a loss. I can't imagine why you would risk damaging your image by defending a girl…" No… don't say girl, it makes you sound like a child. You want this guy to like you! You backspace with a slight feeling of ridiculousness over the whole scenario. Ugh it's all wrong… calm down... calm down… it's just a conversation. He doesn't know you. He doesn't like you. Don't make it weird like you always do.

You try again.

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I really admire your work and for you to say such kind things to me… to think that you're in my corner, has me completely at a loss for words. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment when you don't even know me, especially when coming to my defense could potentially harm your image… but thank you."

He read it almost immediately. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like you could throw up from the anxiety and adrenaline. After a few seconds, those stress-inducing dot-dot-dots appeared to show you he was typing.

He's actually replying to me?? Again? Doesn't he have better things to do? 

Your mind wandered to what he might be doing while he's messaging you. Sitting at his home, relaxing, taking the time to reply to you? Why? Maybe he's on a plane or waiting for something and killing time. Maybe he's- *ping*

Pedro Pascal replied to your message:

"Please, you can call me Pedro.. and as far as defending you, it doesn't matter to me that we don't know each other personally. You seem like a woman with a good heart, and all you did was share your true self. Nobody deserves to be talked poorly about for something harmless that they feel. If something like that hurts my image… then my true self wasn't being represented. I think we all just want to be seen, and I hope that you will feel comfortable to be yourself and show yourself more."

You don't know when you started crying, but you hiccupped with the overwhelming wave of emotions. He sees me.. you had just scrolled to the bottom of the long reply, when you noticed the "..." of typing again. He has more to say?!

Pedro Pascal: "As far as the subject of your song.. whether you choose to reveal that to him, or the world, you deserve love and respect. Being vulnerable and putting yourself out there is a terrifying thing to do, and I myself tend to close myself off from relationships to avoid that potential for getting hurt. But if that's what you want, you've already taken a big step and you should go for it. I hope that whoever he is gives you the respect and love you deserve."

Holy crap…

He doesn't… he doesn't know it's him right?? No. There's no way. He's just being nice… he's too nice. He's too genuine..??

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, doing a little dance in the air, pondering what to say. How much can I share with this man? Between this crush and his kind words, it's feeling tricky to hold back from spilling too much information.

You: "Thank you Pedro. You're too kind and I can't properly explain how much I really appreciate it. I'm having trouble coming to terms with all the sudden attention, and finding it hard to ground myself. But your words are helping me a lot. I - "

You hesitated over your next words, wondering if you should open up or just leave it. Don't be weird… don't scare him away like you always have with everyone else. As much as you think of disclosing your hesitation and lack of experience with relationships, as well as your reasons for trepidation, you decide to spare him of your self-hatred. Instead, you delete that last letter and hit send. 

Then you send another message, like he did. "And as far as the guy… I know I don't know him personally, we've never met, but I can already tell he would treat me right. I just hope maybe someday he will love me back."

Immediately after sending it you regretted it. That felt way too open and vulnerable. What are you thinking!?! Shit… what if he sees through you!?

You hold your finger down on the message, ready to hit unsend before he sees it. But it's too late. He's already replying.

Pedro: "He would be stupid not to love you back."

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

You: "Thank you, Pedro. 🥺" Play it cool… Play it cool…

Pedro: "Of course, sweetheart. Feel free to message me if anyone else gives you trouble or you just want to chat. I enjoyed talking with you."

???!!!!!?????!!!!! SweetheartSweetheartSweetheart

You grabbed your nearest pillow and screamed into it. "SKIPPPPPEERRRRRRR!!!!!! I JUST HAD A CONVERSATION WITH PEDRO AND IT WAS MAGICAL AND AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!" You squealed.

Skipper lifted his head at you and sighed before setting his head back down. He was no stranger to your shenanigans. Napping after a good walk was a better use of his energy than to deal with your drama. He closed his little brown eyes again.

You lay back on the couch, kicking your feet and squeezing your pillow to your body.

Fuck, this is going to hit me like a truck if it goes sour. If he even realizes it's about him, probably. Crap… what am I going to do?

The next day, you woke up and checked your emails before work. Thankfully nobody at your workplace has seemed to place your singing voice to your speaking voice, or pieced together the fact that several people know you have a crush on a certain celebrity and are a musician. Thank goodness. That’s the last thing you need.

You closed your eyes for a few minutes, trying to calm your breathing, your nerves, and your heart rate, before relaxing and shaking out your body. Finally, you decided to get ready for bed and see what tomorrow brings.

Your emails come in, one by one, with one intriguing email at the top, from a well known pop-culture show called The Jazz & Ally-Kat Show. They want to do an interview with you, live, as soon as possible. 

Great. They probably just want to see what I look like or have me spill my guts about my crush. You roll your eyes, and you can’t help but feel like the Mandalorian with his lack of face reveals. If only you had a cute little space baby to accompany you. I guess Skip is my own precious cargo in a way, you think, while looking at your still sleeping pup. You're being silly… Not everything needs to relate back to Pedro, you think with a sigh to yourself. 

Yet despite your anxiety, you agreed to their interview, with the exception that it was done as a podcast style interview, where simply your voices are featured. Surprisingly, they agreed. I guess everyone likes some drama, and what better way to get views than by having a little mystery.

The interview was scheduled for three days from then, and in the meantime you focused on work and your album, which was mostly finished after years of writing songs. All it needed was some editing.

As the days went by, you wanted desperately to message Pedro again. You wanted to tell him your feelings. Have him confess that he loves you too. Ask him about his family, his friends, his favorite things. Meet him, kiss him, fall in love, and finally be happy. But ultimately you knew that was silly. You had one little conversation, and although it was nice, you still didn't know each other. There was no way he loved you back. Yet…? you asked yourself, hopeful, almost asking for permission to let yourself try and earn his love. 

Despite Instagram drawing you in like a magnet, you held back from messaging him. You didn't want to come on too strong. You messaged him first last time. He doesn't know you. Literally… he doesn't even know your real name, or what you look like. But maybe that's a good thing…

_____The day of the interview:_____

You woke up around 9:30 in the morning; nervous, slightly nauseated, restless, and jittery. Why did I agree to this??! 

You decided to pass on the coffee this morning, figuring it would make things worse, and instead decided to take Skipper for a walk. After some fresh air followed by a refreshing shower, you looked at the clock. 11:30 AM. With the interview at 1PM, you still had some time to kill and sat down at the piano, letting your mind wander to Pedro while you plunked chords out with nimble fingers. I wonder if Pedro has ever wanted to learn any instruments… I could teach him, you daydream.

Your hands dance across the piano while he reads through a script in the other room, eyebrows furrowed as he highlights another line. You look up over the grand piano and see his soft brown curls blowing under the fan haphazardly. The sun is shining in through the window, which Skip bathes under, and reflects a golden brown undertone with gray streaks in Pedro's hair. He really is beautiful, you think. His tongue swipes across his lips as he makes notes and erases, before finally feeling your eyes on him. He glances up from the script, giving you a soft smile and a wink; with those chocolate brown eyes that frequently cause you to lose your train of thought. Your eyes drift down to the keys again, feeling a soft blush creep over your cheeks. 

"That music sounds beautiful, baby.." he says softly while padding up to you behind the piano. He places his large hands on your shoulders, sweeping them down over both your arms before settling on your hands, still resting over the black and white keys. You look over your shoulder and he leans in, closing his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Just like that scene in Narcos… you think. Yikes, I really am obsessed… anyway… you think back to your daydream…

He sits down at the chair next to your piano bench, kissing your lips again gently, then the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and your jaw. Your stomach gives a wave of butterflies and you lean in more to kiss him deeper, tugging on his hair while his hands find the small of your back, gently running his palms up your spine. A chill overcomes you and he-

~Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.~

Fuck. You snap out of your fantasy and turn off the alarm you set to go off ten minutes before the interview. At least I gave myself time to use the restroom and wash my face, you think, hoping to clear your head a bit now that you're slightly frazzled.

Unfortunately the feeling that replaced it was nerves as you sat down at your desk, typing into your keyboard, turning on your mic, and hoping that Skipper doesn't throw a fit over the wind or something while you're on this call.

Jazz: "Hi there listeners! We're joined by the artist of the moment, our favorite lovesick lady, the singer responsible for "Imaginary Love!"

Both women on the other end of the call applaud.

Well… not sure I like being called a lovesick lady but what else did I expect, really?

You: "Thank you guys for having me, I appreciate you wanting to get to know me better."

Despite the rough start, the ladies turned out to be really respectful and fun. You think that if the circumstances were different, you could actually be friends with them. You discuss casual things like your dog, your favorite activities and favorite pop culture topics (careful to avoid mentioning Pedro or any other actor that could be perceived as your lyrical subject), and they even mention celebrity crushes they've had growing up. 

At the mention of their celebrity crushes, you can feel the interview funnel into a dangerous alley with little to no escape. Jazz was the first to broach the subject. "So… we've just discussed our celebrity crushes, and I think I speak for all of us here when I say we're all very curious to know who-"

-an air horn blares-

What the hell is that? You wonder, both thankful for the interruption, yet startled by the disruption.

They both chime in: "Viewers!!! Do you all know what that sound is!?! We have reached 1 million listeners!!!!"

To say you were astounded is an understatement.

You: "You're kidding!? 1 million people are listening to us right now?"

Ally: "You bet they are! And listeners… I don't know about you guys… but I can't help but wonder if our celebrity heartthrob is one of those million?"

They turn their attention to you again. "What do you think? Think he's listening?"

You're thankful for the lack of a camera, because you can't help but blush at the thought. You'd be lying if you hadn't already considered (hoped) that he was listening too. 

Jazz: "So as we were saying… I think we all are in agreement that we want to know who he is. You sound like a nice enough girl, so what's holding you back? You've made it. You can contact him now and he'll probably reply."

I already have… you thought with a smirk.

Jazz continues: "Which brings me to the next point... I know you've had a lot of attention lately. You were signed to a record company, you were contacted by us, you've been mentioned by a few talk shows and celebrities. Pedro Pascal even publicly defended you. The radio has been playing your song nonstop and people can't get enough. What do you think of all this attention?"

You: "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit surprised and maybe a little scared," you answered with a nervous laugh. "But I am so thankful for the kind words that I receive and I love hearing from people who can relate to my music."

Ally: "You've certainly received your fair share of criticism too. It sounds like you received that before your song was ever published as well."

You: "I have, and it's been challenging to try and not let it get me down. But I'm trying my best, and the positives seem to be greatly outweighing the negatives," you state, your mind thinking of Pedro and how his messages were really the only positive you needed to get you through the dark storm of criticism.

Ally: "I guess what I'm wondering is.. among all these people contacting you.. has he?"

You try to play dumb: "Has who?"

Both interviewers laugh before Ally continues. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Your stomach flipped. You were not expecting this question. Should you tell the truth??? It's not like they could know who has contacted you, short of hacking your account. You have had a lot of people contact you, after all.

You take a deep breath before answering. "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

They reply, and you can practically feel them leaning in. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

You consider your next move, your heart really working overtime since this whole thing started. Finally you decide your answer.

"Yes. We've talked."

Looking for Track 1? Read it here!

Next chapter: Here!

~Thanks for reading! Stay ~tuned~ for more!

Taglist: Let me know if you want in :)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02

[flowerandblood]

I'm back

And I'm back with my oneshot with Michael Gavey. He fucking came back from the dead. Some can call it resurrection.

I needed these 24 hours just for myself to think about why I was writing at all and why I was doing it.

To talk about it with my husband who, as always, knowing me inside out, said that I didn't deserve to have my work and commitment here wasted by people who don't have the courage to write to me under their own nickname.

Just to be clear - it doesn't matter when or if any of you would read my oneshot. When, why or if you will do it is neither something to feel guilty nor proud of, like reading or not anything I wrote or will write.

I remind you that's my space, not yours. Anon asks stays off, because I know who you really are.

Cowards.

From now on, I will be much stricter about what other people "opinion" should and should not be.

I will block anyone, anons, writers or readers, who cannot watch their words - even if it's on your blogs, in your asks, comments, reblogs or statements - I don't want to see any ironic, hurtful bullshit on my wall anymore.

I will block them, but I will never nag them. I just don't need them in my life, in my space. Learn from me, anon haters. I hope me coming back is your stick in the ass and not in the pleasurable way.

I don't care if you think I'm a sweet and innocent author with no flaws - I'm not. I've never been. I don't care about maintaining this image either.

Yes, I can't stand anons who send me and other authors baseless criticism. They were and will remain my enemies. I will never be nice to them, because by hiding they lose the last of my respect.

However, I have never been and will never be unpleasant to people who ask me thoughtful questions with the respect that one person can and should expect from another. Usually it's not about the question itself, but about how it was asked.

Writing anonymously to others that you wish their pets to die, that it's good that they lost their child, or to me that I don't really love my husband and I'm cheating on him because I write fanfics is not the smartest idea.

You are just sad, jealous idiots.

Now.

A few of people here are trying to keep this sticky tape glued fandom from falling apart and I sincerely admire them: @ewanmitchellcrumbs @targaryenrealnessdarling @oneeyedvisenya @theoneeyedprince @valeskafics @black-dread

This fandom doesn't deserve you, but there you are.

+ I wanted to say 'thank you' to all of the writers who just reached me to say that they are sorry, to say that I have a right to write whatever I want. Do what I want without being judged.

Finally, I cannot help but mention the wave of anonymous and non-anonymous messages from my fans, to which I apologize for not responding. I've read them all.

Many of you came out of the shadows and wrote to me for the first time, showing me how much my stories mean to you. Thank you for all the memes, photos, drawings and words of comfort, very long and very short messages.

If it weren't for you, if it weren't for my husband who told me that I needed a break - not to destroy everything I created, I would have deleted this account a few days ago. He said that I should care more about my own mental comfort, which I intend to do.

I deleted my Discord account to withdraw from the fandom a bit and to put what happened behind me. I don't have good emotions right now that I could share with you in these groups, which you deserve. I don't want to be a ghost account there.

If you want to talk to me or explain something, you can reach me in private messages.

So. Karawana jedzie dalej, as we say in Poland. Those who want to be tagged, please let me know here or privately.

I don't know when I will publish my other works, but I will.

Welcome back.

[lovely-peace]

Whispers of the Heart

Summary: When you're just pretending to date your crush, are there many worries. And then there is your ex-best friend, whose words still haunt you...

Pairing: Sirius black x hufflepuff!reader

Warnings: past toxic friendship, past toxic relationship (not with the reader), insecurities, self conscious , fake dating

I don't have much time to write from now on so I made this part shorter, sry /wc:+2300

Masterlist

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

"You can go now." Madam Pomfrey looked at me critically. "And take care of yourself."

I nodded and gathered my things. I hid the flowers among my belongings and sneaked back to our common room. There were only a few people there as it was evening. But those who were there cast curious glances at me.

"If the whole school thought there was something between us, would you be ashamed?"

Part of me wanted to hide, while the other seemed to be flying. I was excited and scared at the same time. These feelings could only be triggered by Sirius, and that scares me.

I rushed up to our room with my things. The other girls were awake and looked at me surprised. Lydia seemed to recover first. "You're feeling better! I'm so glad; you really scared us."

I had to smile crookedly. "I'm sorry."

I unpacked my things and sorted them back in. Lydia and Maya just watched me. Eventually, Maya broke the silence. "Hey, I can't stand it anymore, what happened? You have to tell us!"

She sat on her bed and looked at me with an expectant smile. I don't know exactly why, but that somehow made me happy. Seraph had never asked about me or shown any interest in what was going on with me.

Without her, I almost felt lighter. Was it wrong to think that?

"It's complicated; I'm still overwhelmed by everything that happened," I said finally. I had now finished putting everything away, and the flowers were smiling at me.

When Lydia saw them, she squealed, "Are those from Sirius?" Her voice was very high-pitched.

I nodded. "Does one of you have a vase? Or a cup, that would work too."

Eagerly, Lydia rummaged on her bedside table and finally gave me a cup. I thanked her and filled the cup with water, placing the flowers inside. I put them on my nightstand, and they looked radiant.

"Are you two a couple?" Maya asked with a smile on her face.

Shit.

If I say now that we're a couple, it feels like I'm lying. But if I claim the opposite, then the truth about Sirius will come out in the next few days.

"Wasn't Seraph with him until three months ago?" Lydia asked, and my feelings of guilt returned and plagued me.

"Yes, Seraph was with him," I finally said, staring at the flowers.

Lydia said nothing for a while. Then she cautiously asked, "What does she think of him and you?"

I tensed unknowingly, and the flowers seemed to lose some of their shine. "She's angry. She made it clear to me this afternoon that she wants nothing to do with me."

Maya sighed. "Honestly, I'm glad you have nothing to do with her anymore," she said.

I looked at her surprised. "Why?"

She looked nervously away. "Well, she always dragged you around with her and kept us away from you."

My eyes widened. "Did she?"

Lydia laughed nervously. "Yes, she constantly made it clear that you belonged to her, and we shouldn't take you away from her."

That didn't sound like the words she threw at me.

Maya shook her head and looked at me with a sad smile. "And when she saw you with Sirius, last Christmas, she immediately went after him. Even though she had no interest in him before. I'm glad you're with him now and not letting her hold you back."

Did she know I had a crush on him? Had she always known that I liked him and still said all those things? Had she known all those years I admired him from afar, and yet she talked about me to him? Did she still flirt with him? Did she still come crying to me when he broke up with her, expecting me to take her side?

"Hey, are you okay?" Maya looked at me concerned. I just nodded and smiled at her.

"Can I still have breakfast with you tomorrow?" I asked eventually. Maya just smiled at me.

"No, you can't. You have to!" she said. "We have to look after you so you don't end up in the hospital again!"

Lydia giggled excitedly and hugged me. "I'm so glad you're feeling better! From today on, we're all friends, okay??" she asked, looking excitedly into my eyes.

I smiled and nodded. Then she hugged me again and squealed with excitement. Maya and I laughed along.

This was one of the most beautiful evenings I had ever had.

~~

"(Y/n), wake up, we need to go to breakfast!" Maya called before disappearing into the bathroom. I turned to the other side of the bed, trying to fall back asleep. I almost succeeded, but then a pillow hit me.

"Don't fall asleep again! Come on." Lydia called from the other side of the room. I sighed and sat up. I rubbed my eyes and searched for my things to get ready.

When Maya came out of the bathroom, I quickly slipped in and got ready. I looked in the mirror, and even the green hair didn't bother me that much.

When I came out, Maya and Lydia were already waiting for me. I smiled at them, and we went to the Great Hall together. I was so happy that even the looks from others didn't bother me. Until I saw her gaze.

Seraph looked at me as if I were a disgusting insect daring to buzz around. She wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes. Suddenly, I felt insecure. But Maya pulled me along to our place.

We sat down at the table. Maya sat next to Lydia, and I sat across from them.

"To be honest, I have no desire for Professor Binns' class," Maya sighed loudly. But then she looked at me with a curious grin. "I'd much rather hear what's going on with you and Sirius."

I laughed nervously, hoping it was just a joke, but she kept looking at me that way. Eventually, I sighed. "It's complicated," I said finally. To be honest, I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how he wanted to pretend we were together.

Lydia giggled. "I don't know what you mean; he seems totally into you. I mean, he's staring at you right now!"

My eyes widened. "Is he?" I asked and turned around slowly. And sure enough, Sirius was looking into my eyes, smiling at me while James was telling him something. I smiled back cautiously and turned back around.

Maya looked at me expectantly. I quickly lowered my head to my breakfast and ate something. Then she sighed. "What do you have as the first class today?" she asked finally.

"Transfiguration. It's not bad; we worked well last time and already solved the assignment," I replied, trying to collect myself.

Lydia clapped excitedly. "I have Transfiguration too! You have to explain it to me, please, please!"

I laughed. "Don't worry, we can sit down together and look at it again."

Suddenly, both of them became quiet and looked behind me. Then they grinned at each other and lowered their gaze to their food.

"What's -"

"Darling, how are you?" Sirius asked and sat down next to me. He smiled at me warmly. My gaze wandered first to him, then to his friends. James was just grinning, while Remus continued to eat. Peter was also looking at us, and they weren't the only ones.

I saw glances directed at us from almost everywhere. I laughed nervously and suddenly felt very tense. "I'm good," I finally said in a softer voice.

Sirius didn't let the audience show at all. He just smiled and brushed a green strand of hair from my face. "I'm glad. Do you have time after school today?"

I could barely get words out and just nodded. He grinned even wider as if I had saved his day. "We can go over the material you missed yesterday. Does that sound good?"

I smiled back at him unsurely. "Yes, that sounds great." I thought he would then leave, but he stayed and looked at me critically for a moment. "How much have you eaten today?" he asked, almost like my mother.

I laughed at that. "I've eaten a lot already; I have witnesses!" I said, forgetting the others who were watching us.

Sirius looked over at my friends and grinned at them. "Take care of her, okay?" he said playfully, and Maya and Lydia just nodded and grinned.

"Hey, it happened once, it doesn't happen all the time!" I said, but Sirius turned away from me now.

"You can only say that when you don't end up in the hospital wing again this month, love," he said, and I could hear his grin. Lydia wiggled her eyebrows at me, and I had to laugh.

When I was finished, I took my things and wanted to go to Transfiguration, but then Sirius took my things and smiled at me. "Let's go, love," he said and turned around to leave.

"I was actually going with Lydia," I started, but Lydia shook her head and made frantic hand movements.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked, looking at me inquisitively. I shook my head and smiled at him. "You don't have to carry my things, you know?"

He looked at me critically. "Darling, maybe I don't have to, but I want to! Is it so hard to believe that I want to help my girlfriend?"

Maya grinned at me, and Lydia's mouth was open in astonishment. I suddenly felt way too hot and light at the same time.

"Come on, let's go," he took my hand and held both my and his things pressed against himself with the other hand; I don't know how he managed that. Warmth flowed through my hand and slowly spread through my body.

We walked through the corridors, and when we were alone, I wanted to take my things back, but he held them up so high that I couldn't reach them.

"Forget it, I'll go through with this completely now! What kind of boyfriend would I be if I gave you your things back the moment we're alone? I can give you the answer: a bad one!" he said with a smug grin.

I blushed against my will. "But you're not really-"

He suddenly looked at me with a look that made me immediately regret what I was about to say.

"You know, when we're not in front of others, then you're not really-" he interrupted me with a quick kiss on the cheek, silencing me.

He smiled at me, almost nervously. "What if someone sees us when we thought we were alone? No, if that happens, then I'll take care of everything, you can count on that."

Before I could say anything in response, we were in front of the Transfiguration room, surrounded by people. He put my things on my table and winked at me before going to his seat.

James finally sat down next to me with an amused grin on his face. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help but smile.

"So…" he began. "How did it happen?" He looked at me expectantly, which made me laugh nervously.

"Why don't you ask Sirius?"

James just rolled his eyes. "He never wants to say anything about it."

I smiled at him briefly. "Then I probably shouldn't either."

Before James could ask more questions, the lesson began.

~~

The hours flew by, and after each class, Sirius would take my things and carry them to the next one.

At first, I tried to convince him that he didn't have to do that, but he remained stubborn, so I eventually gave up. I didn't understand why it was so important to him. Carrying my things wouldn't make any difference in how others perceived us. He was only doing it for show, not because he wanted to.

But I wished so much that he genuinely wanted to do it. Was that wrong?

Was it wrong that it somehow made me happy? I liked the feeling of someone doing something for me because they wanted to. Did that make me a toxic person?

After the last class, Lydia approached me before Sirius could. She looked around for him first and saw him engaged in a conversation. Then she smiled widely at me.

"You're going to the library later to study with him, right?" she asked me, and I nodded.

"If you ever have some free time with him, could we study Transfiguration together? I'm really bad at it," she pouted slightly and looked at me with pleading eyes.

I chuckled. "Of course, we can do that. I should have some time tomorrow."

She looked at me with a questioning gaze. "Don't you think he might have plans with you tomorrow and want to do something together? Because it's not that urgent for me, I can ask someone else."

I looked at her in confusion. "Why would he want to do something with me tomorrow?"

She looked at me as if I had lost my mind. "Tomorrow is his Quidditch match, hello?"

"After the game, he probably wants to celebrate with his friends, right? I don't want to interfere with that," I replied, feeling somewhat uncertain. I thought he would want to spend time with his teammates after the match, not with me.

"How would you interfere with that? You would just join the celebration, right? Why do you think that?" Lydia said with a puzzled expression.

Every time I asked Seraph if I could join her at the Quidditch celebration, she always told me that I would only be a bother. And even now, I believed her more than myself.

"I don't know, somehow I feel like I would just be a nuisance there," I said cautiously, but Lydia gasped in shock.

"You would never… Wait, did he tell you that? If so, that's super toxic—"

"No, no, he didn't. He didn't have to say anything. We haven't talked about it," I reassured her, but before she could say anything else, someone cleared their throat behind us.

We turned to see Sirius, who was looking at me with that indistinguishable expression again.

"Can we talk for a moment?" he asked me, but it sounded more like a desperate demand.

I simply nodded and wondered how much he had heard and if I had said anything wrong. He took my hand and began pulling me with him, and Lydia held my other hand.

"Don't get any wrong ideas, Black," she said, trying to sound serious and threatening, but her slightly raised corners of the mouth betrayed her. Then she let us go.

~~

Sirius almost dragged me through the castle until we eventually went outside. He led me to the Black Lake, where he finally sat down. I cautiously sat next to him.

He stared out at the lake, still wearing that intense expression. Eventually, I couldn't stand the silence and asked him, "What's wrong?"

He glanced at me briefly, then looked back at the lake. He picked up a small stone and threw it into the water. It skipped four times.

"I wonder what you think of me."

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

He threw another stone. This one skipped five times. "Sometimes, you say things that sound like I'm not voluntarily with you. Sometimes, you look at me as if you expect me to take advantage of you. You have this look as if you don't trust me."

"Please, Whisky, as if he ever really wants to have anything to do with you! He was a jerk to you from the moment we first met; you just don't interest him!"

I could still hear Seraph's laughter distinctly.

I looked at him and wanted to reassure him, but I couldn't find the words. He looked at me, and his gaze was so intense that it took my breath away.

"Is it so hard to believe that I enjoy being with you?" he whispered, so softly that I could barely hear it.

"No, it's not," I tried to reassure him. He looked back at the lake.

We didn't believe each other.

He chuckled softly and closed his eyes. "You have that look again," he whispered.

We remained silent for a while, simply listening to the sound of the lake. We sat there for a while, and at some point, I felt his gaze on me.

I turned to him and saw that he was looking at my green hair. He raised his hand but stopped midway. Then he looked into my eyes. "I'm sorry that the prank hit you. Does it bother you a lot?" he asked, looking at me with big eyes.

"I do want my old hair back, yes," I said, looking back at the lake.

"Why?" he asked, still looking at me.

I laughed at the question. "Have you seen me? I look terrible with it." Even worse than usual.

He was quiet for a moment. I looked back at him, and his gaze softened. Suddenly, he pulled me towards him and enveloped me in his arms. His warm arms gently wrapped around my body and stroked my back.

"I find you beautiful, with or without green hair. Besides, it looks great on you, love. I think we need to take you to an eye doctor," he whispered in my ear.

I felt myself blush and buried my face further in his arms. It felt like my body was on fire. How could Sirius trigger these feelings in me?

"Let's go to the library; we still need to study yesterday's material," he whispered to me after we had been in that position for a while.

I pulled away from him and nodded to him. He smiled and took my hand again, setting off another fireworks of emotions within me.

~~

"You don't need me at all!" said Sirius dramatically after we finished with Defense Against the Dark Arts as well. I laughed and handed him his notes.

He watched me as I wrote down my own notes and marked the important things. Eventually, he got up. "I'm going to grab one of the spell books real quick to explain Charms better to you, okay?" he said, and I gave him a thumbs up while continuing to write.

I packed up my Defense Against the Dark Arts stuff and took out my Charms materials when I saw her.

Seraph was sitting in the other corner of the room, smiling at me, sending a cold shiver down my spine. The other Slytherin girls sitting at her table were the ones who were also at the party. They were her roommates.

Slowly, Seraph got up and approached me. I lowered my gaze again, hoping she would walk past me. But she stopped in front of me.

"He's helping you catch up with the material, right?" she said, and I heard the grin in her voice.

I looked up at her, wondering how I had never noticed the coldness in her eyes before.

"He probably just went off to fetch one of the books that could help you, right?"

I lowered my head again and looked at my notes.

"Can I tell you something? He did the exact same thing with me. He probably invited you to his Quidditch celebration, just like he did with me. He's just using you as a replacement, can you believe it?"

I tried to tune her out, but I couldn't.

"Oh, Whisky, you're so blind. Why don't you ever listen to me?" Her voice was gentle, and a part of me let her words in.

"He's just passing the time with you." With that, she turned around and walked back to her friends, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

When Sirius came back, I couldn't look him in the eyes. He returned with a book, which he proudly presented to me.

"I was a bit unsure at first, but with this book, I can easily explain the spell to you-"

I felt sick as Seraph's words replayed in my head. "Can we do the rest tomorrow? I'm feeling quite exhausted," I said to quickly get away from here.

He looked somewhat disappointed but then nodded. "Sure, but take the book with you and read Chapter 4 about Household Charms. It should help." He handed me the book.

"Thanks, Sirius," I said, putting the book away safely. I wanted to get up and leave, but he suddenly reached for my hand.

"Will you come to the match tomorrow?" he asked, looking vulnerable all of a sudden.

I smiled weakly at him. "Yes, I'll be cheering for you. Slytherin shouldn't beat you guys."

He nodded briefly but didn't let go of me. "And would you celebrate the game with me afterward?"

I nodded in response, feeling something warm inside. But as he smiled back at me, Seraph's words came rushing back.

"He's just passing the time with you."

I pulled my hands out of his and quickly left the library. He didn't follow me.

"You had that look again," the older Black whispered as he watched her leave.

Taglist: @theofficialmadman @fanboyluvr @fjdjsiskcjfj @starsval @olkathedestroyer @helloitsmeeeeeee @xamapolax @maripositanoctruna

[sixosix]

IT WAS ALL BY DESIGN | KAVEH

tags second chance, angst and fluff, time-skips, DARK HUMOR, lovers to exes to lovers again, profanity

written for art @aanobrain, who i made a bloodpact with saying that if i were to write this they’d write me xiao, so here we are. hope u like it art

a/n wc 4K kaveh lore spoilers but i didn’t follow the canon timeline. kaveh meets al-haitham BEFORE the palace of alcazarzaray. also this has two parts

next part

kaveh first saw you when he was presenting his nth draft proposal to his fellow group members.

it’s stressful, it’s a mess, kaveh is lost, and so, so tired. this group is certainly the worst one he’s had yet, but he’s too far deep to back out now.

tamara sighs deeply, like a tired mother, and kaveh’s temper flares, “i understand your need to express your love for aesthetics, but don’t you think that it’s unwise to sacrifice practicality?”

kaveh’s jaw ticks. “sacrifice? i’ve already explained that i’ve thought of every detail to consider. give me something to work on, actual criticism, without just slandering my ideals.”

tamara enjoys insulting his beliefs because she is nothing like kaveh. or maybe it’s because he is nothing like her.

it always is like this. snobs treat his proposals—bursting at the seams with unique ideas yet never neglecting quality—like a joke, and they never get past getting called drafts. he never gets past calling any of his first proposals a success.

“the outside world wouldn’t be as lenient as we had been to your designs, you know,” another of them says. one of his mentors. “tamara is right. we don’t have to get too detailed. here, listen, what if you just change up the strange curve of this wall? and this pillar you…”

outside world, kaveh thinks bitterly. he had already dealt enough with the outside world, but keeping him cornered against a wall he had been building against them was far worse than that.

yet he can’t say this. he’s said enough already. if tamara’s face were to get any redder, he’d lose the opportunity for the materials collectively funded by these people.

kaveh sighs, defeated. “i know. i’m sorry i snapped. i’ll take in your suggestions. what did you say must be removed first?”

“hold on,” one of his group mates speaks up. anis leans her chair over to another table, tapping the shoulder of someone kaveh is sure he’s never damn seen before. “hey, what do you think?”

you squint at kaveh’s work, unfazed by anis interrupting your studies. kaveh doesn’t want to, but he can’t look away. “i don’t understand some of it, but it’s nice. this building would look beautiful in the jungle.”

anis returns the front of her char’s legs on the floor. “ahh, you think?” she muses, handing the paper over to you. “well, an outside perspective is just as important.”

with a pen in your grip, you point at somewhere kaveh can’t quite see, blocked off by the back of the paper. it’s blocked off your face, too. “could use a bit more ornamental flora. too little over here if you’re going to already add it. life doesn’t just come from bright colors, but other forms of life as well.”

“spoken like a true amurta darshan.”

you huff proudly, lowering the paper and revealing your smile. kaveh stares, and stares.

knowing how to appreciate beauty as he does is a trait he has always admired. he secretly takes your suggestions to heart, planning to pull another all-nighter for a few sketches. this is the beauty of the akademiya; why he never gave up as soon as he was first brought down—he learns so much every day.

his heart races just at the thought of it. it’s been days since he felt this.

kaveh wonders if he’ll see you again and doesn’t get much time to think about it again when he’s pulled back to reality, back to yet another proposal that’s been erased so many times, it looks more like a smudge of ink than something kaveh would proudly call his.

kaveh sees you again in the house of daena hunched over a book with your face pinched, sitting next to someone, and he thinks that might’ve been when he fell in love.

but no, that can’t be right. that’s not how love works. it takes time, courage, long nights, restless mornings—this is just him a few feet away from someone whose words he admired.

this must be more like passing by a picture that caught his interest. this must be more fleeting, more like what he deserves, like how the yolk is shaped perfectly on his breakfast for the first time in weeks, how the weather is perfect for smooth construction without disaster, or how his mother did not at least cry too much in a day.

he had only been trying to pass by and continue annotating the book he promised himself to get back to, which happened to be slotted on the shelf in front of your table. it’s sheer luck. and he might’ve taken advantage of it.

the student next to you is speaking. cyno, kaveh recognizes belatedly. “do you get it? because wave could refer to the motion of your hands, but it could also refer to an ocean’s wave, or what is the result of the wind blowing over the surface of—”

you clutch your head. with your eyes off the books scattered across the desk, kaveh sees this as a sign to turn away, a small smile on his face as he listens to your voice. it’s pleasant, much more than the ones he hears all the time around him. “please, cyno, have some respect for your senior and have mercy on the bags under my eyes.”

“i am,” cyno says sternly. “i am cheering you up. perhaps it’s because you aren’t under-sand-ing my jokes.”

when kaveh risks a glance, you throw a crumbled paper onto cyno, which he catches with unblinking ease.

“don’t make me call tighnari here,” you threaten, holding a pen to his face.

“is he going to give me pun-ishment?”

“cyno…”

kaveh gets his wits about him again and realizes that he had been picking more books than he needed, just in time to hear more of cyno, unfortunately.

“did you not understand? you see, the word punishment has pun in it, which is what i’m—”

“that’s it.” the sound of a chair sliding across the smooth floor echoes in the quiet halls. “you sit there alone. think about your actions; i’m going to get lunch without you.”

kaveh takes a step forward, you do so backward, and you catch each other’s eyes from the synchronized movement.

somehow, meeting your eyes makes his heart jump to his throat. he can’t tell if this is better or worse than when you were just at a different table and he didn’t have the chance to speak with you.

it becomes a moment too long: kaveh gets nervous, spinning around on his heels and pretending to look for more books. this is unlike him. his head aches trying to think about it.

once you leave, kaveh approaches cyno.

“cyno,” kaveh says with a smile.

“kaveh,” cyno acknowledges. “why were you just watching us? was there something wrong?”

kaveh’s blood drains from his face. “was it that obvious? was it?”

cyno nods. “you’re terrible at acting casual.”

kaveh sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ugh—whatever. cyno, hey, listen. that person you were with…”

“y/n?” he tilts his head. “did you need anything?”

“no, no.” kaveh repeats your name in his head, and files it away for later. “do you want to get lunch?” he asks, which he later realizes is an unspoken invitation for a new side of cyno he wishes he didn’t know. the puns hurt his head more than frustrating clients.

kaveh sits by himself in lambad’s tavern, lazily rocking his glass back and forth.

he’s made friends. plenty. but he’s not sure if he can confide in them if he were to go to them in this state.

he thought could consider al-haitham as one, but that blew over on his own face some time ago. it was a mess. kaveh’s not sure which hurt more: when he felt his own spite with how he trembled in spitting al-haitham’s name, or the fact that someone he almost considered a best friend seemed unfazed at all when they both knew that they wouldn’t talk to each other the next day.

al-haitham removed his name from the thesis, and kaveh tore up the copy he had of it. but unlike al-haitham, kaveh couldn’t bear the guilt and pieced them back together.

now they haven’t spoken for a while.

and he sits here, frustrated to the point of near tears.

he’s never felt as lonely as he feels right now, burdened by the stress accumulated from all those years with no one to tell him that he’s doing something right, that he’s going in the right direction. it feels childish, but when he closes his eyes, he can vividly imagine someone patting his shoulder, telling him he’s proud to call him his son, or someone pulling him close, kissing his forehead, telling him that she’d come back for him.

kaveh picks up the glass and takes a long sip.

“are you even allowed to drink?” someone says, too close to him.

kaveh inhales sharply, unfortunately breathing his drink along with it. he chokes on it, and some dribbled past his lips as he turns to the sound of the familiar voice.

you quirk an eyebrow. kaveh wants to gape.

“it’s coffee, and i’m allowed,” kaveh mutters hoarsely, flustered. how long have you been there? were you just watching him?

“but you’re pretending it is alcohol?”

kaveh looks away. he was hoping that no one would notice his dramatics.

“it’s funny,” you tell him. kaveh wasn’t really hoping to appear funny in his sorry state.

you call for lambad and tell him you want your usual. when lambad returns, he hands you a half-full glass of what kaveh could smell as alcohol. maybe he should’ve done the same, but his goal was to feel awake enough to finish his due project, not intoxicated and slurring his words together.

“well?” you turn to him, your cheek against your palm as your arm rests against the counter. “are you gonna act like it and bemoan your regrets?”

students of the akademiya have started to become familiar with the fact that kaveh is a one-of-a-kind genius. names like light of kshahrewar started to circle the halls loud enough for kaveh to hear it from rumors and to his face when they asked to collaborate with him or when they ask for too much of his time.

he was expecting you to do the same. he wouldn’t even blame you if you tried because he wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. yes, yes, i want to.

there is no liquid courage here, just the presence of you and his muddled mind finding it far too comfortable.

“my mother remarried,” he says.

you blink, pausing mid-way through drinking your fill. “oh…?”

“i’m happy for her,” kaveh says, confident, firm.

“here’s to that.” you clink your glass against his.

you weren’t taking it as a happy statement. he doesn’t want sympathy, but he knows that whatever you’re thinking is the irrefutable truth. perhaps you were mourning with him because he, too, knows that there’s nothing content about him when he has to reassure himself out loud.

kaveh wants to ask so many questions. he wants to pull out the stacks of papers shoved in his briefcase, ask you what you think of it, listen to you tell him that you understand its beauty, but it’d be more beautiful if he weren’t so afraid and confined in someone else’s ideals. he needs to hear you say it because he knows you’d say the exact same thing as he wants.

instead, he sits quietly, watching you from the corner of his eyes, entranced.

and kaveh—he’s longing. or maybe he’s just starting to feel loneliness. 

“so, what happened between you and al-haitham’s group project?” you ask, wearing a smile that spells out you know exactly what you’re getting into.

“oh, don’t even get me started,” kaveh groans.

the night ends with his heart a little lighter than it was before. (this is still fleeting, right?)

it seems like after that, you’re just everywhere and always by his side. kaveh loves it. especially when he’s too caught up with the world and needs someone to distract him enough to remember that the world is splendid.

despite his desperate attempt at drowning himself in coffee in hopes of being able to remodel at least three rejected drafts, he doesn’t get anything done at all.

he knows that giving in and offering to help out everyone who asks him for it isn’t healthy. he knows it, and he sees the effects on his face, the paleness of his skin, and the mess of his hair.

when kaveh stares his paper down, he can almost see himself on it. not a reflection, but a shadow. it looks like a bird’s nest. he might as well get feathers to go with his hair and complete the look.

someone taps his shoulder, and kaveh somehow doesn’t feel like reacting accordingly. “kaveh, is that you? are you kaveh?” the stranger asks, all in one breath.

it takes him a few seconds. breathing in and out deeply. he turns around, hopes the eyebags on his face aren’t as heavy as they feel, and smiles.

“yes?”

“ah!” he recognizes the student. a few years younger than him. he can’t quite come up with a name right now. “thank goodness. they told me that you could help me with this, i knew you wouldn’t disappoint.”

“oh,” kaveh says, quiet.

if any of his friends were here, they’d glare him down, tell him that he’s going to bleed himself dry if he even thinks about saying anything aside from no. but they aren’t, and kaveh’s heart is bleeding out instead.

“what is it?”

“kaveh!”

you come stumbling in between him and the younger student, whose eyes bulge out of his eyes. he seems to be shaking, if kaveh were to look any closer.

without warning, you throw an arm over kaveh’s shoulder, leaning down to press your chest against his shoulder blade. kaveh’s breath hitches.

you tilt your head to appraise the cowering junior. “oh,” you say, as if not realizing he had been there all along. “daneh. did you need anything?”

“no. no, no, i don’t,” daneh splutters. “i’ll take my leave, i think— i think i should— please excuse me.”

while daneh runs off, kaveh tries to recall his breakfast and the procedure he did in his head to calm down and give himself the boldness to meet your eyes. what is happening to him?

dried fish fillet pan-fried until crispy, served in creamy, white sauce, sprinkled with mint—

“kaveh,” you say. your voice is too close to his ears, which he is sure is turning red.

—kaveh, kaveh, kaveh.

“y/n,” kaveh says, defeated, the grip on his quill faltering. “what was that about?”

he thinks he can feel a grin, and he badly wants to see what it would look like on your face. “i don’t remember telling you my name.”

curiosity wins. kaveh can’t help but smile along with you when he sees it. “you did it on purpose?” then, “cyno told me.”

“you asked around about me?”

“yes, i did,” he says, almost petulantly.

the way your mouth tips to one side more makes your beam come off more smug. “is that so?” you say, and kaveh feels like he’s bared himself to the world. “what’s this?”

kaveh follows where you’re pointing. it’s a mindless sketch he was practicing with; he doesn’t remember drawing half of it. “i was… oh, i don’t know, i just needed a break.”

“this is what you do on your break?” your fingers hover over the page as you trace the curved columns and drooping roof. “green. they look like leaves,” you tell him quietly.

kaveh’s smile turns softer at your sincere awe. “i know.” he wonders what’s going on in your head, then wonders if he’s worth knowing. “what do you think’s missing?”

“i’m no architect, but it could use a bit more of a… splash, you know? color. maybe some—”

“ornamental flora?” kaveh finishes for you. “you’re right. there’s no need to worry about this, though. i must have been on autopilot creating this.”

“straight to the bin it goes? what a shame. it’s stunning.” there’s a seat right there, yet you insist on being pressed against him, bent over, still too close to his ear. you talk about beauty, and kaveh asks himself if you’ve looked at yourself. “i suppose i don’t understand how geniuses work. you are one of a kind, light of kshahrewar.”

then he is suddenly so aware of your hand having trailed upwards, resting on his nape. as you move, your skin rubs absentmindedly on where the hair fades. he shivers.

he hates that title. he feels like he doesn’t deserve any praise he receives at all. yet when you say it—

“you blush a lot,” you point out. kaveh wants to dig a hole and lay there forever. “it’s cute. your expressiveness is charming.”

“don’t—just say that.” his face is so, so red.

al-haitham finds him alone at the same table that night, unable to focus on anything but his racing thoughts. something is wrong with him, he’s sure. he’ll have to pay tighnari a visit and retrace if he’d picked the wrong mushroom.

al-haitham—and kaveh doesn’t know how he’s managed to figure it out so easily—makes a face that would be the closest thing to a smile. “i like y/n,” al-haitham says, out of the blue.

“what,” kaveh says flatly, coiled up like a cat prepared to pounce.

“smart enough to pull you back down and smart enough to make you listen.”

“it’s—” kaveh wants to say it’s not like that, but he goes silent thinking about it. “fuck off. you wouldn’t get it.”

al-haitham tilts his head to the side. “you’re the one not ‘getting it’.”

thankfully, al-haitham leaves him be. they are still on awkward terms, after all.

“oh,” kaveh says intelligently one morning. oh, no.

tighnari’s ear twitches. “the star of the show is here, finally.”

“everyone,” kaveh starts solemnly as the door slams shut behind him. the wind blows, and kaveh’s hair flutters, looking like he came straight out of those films.

“how has dealing with your recent client been looking?” tighnari asks with a smile. cyno and al-haitham nod because they probably didn’t think of even asking that. it’s why tighnari is kaveh’s favorite.

but he is not here to talk about that.

kaveh slams his briefcase on the table, rattling their glasses. “i’m going to confess.”

al-haitham makes a face. “who are we confessing to?”

“not we, al-haitham. stay out of this,” kaveh says. al-haitham’s expression doesn’t change. “i’m going to confess, and it’s going to be so romantic. no one can say no.”

“i would say no.”

kaveh glares, snatching his glass. “al-haitham, just be quiet. the adults are talking. this isn’t about you.”

“you invited us out here,” al-haitham points out.

cyno tilts his head. “to y/n, right?”

“about time,” tighnari sighs.

“yes, to y/n. and what do you mean about—” kaveh huffs, getting red in the face, flustered. “hey, aren’t you guys going to stop me? tell me this is a bad idea and that i’m going to ruin this meaningful friendship i have with y/n?”

“everyone wants you to confess already,” al-haitham says, as if kaveh is stupid for not realizing that. maybe he is.

cyno hums thoughtfully. “if i stop you, i think y/n will murder me with bare hands.”

“oh,” kaveh says, pleased. whatever that means. “alright, then, thank you.” he downs the glass of water—it was al-haitham’s, most likely, judging by the incensed expression on his face—and grabs his briefcase again.

“where are you going— kaveh, hey, where do you think you’re—” tighnari smacks his hand on the table, yelling after kaveh, who’s already by the door.

kaveh’s confession is messy, quick, and probably not as romantic as he had hoped, stumbling over his words and feeling as brave as an infatuated schoolgirl.

“pinning me against the shelf like this is quite the move, kaveh,” you say, and kaveh snaps back to reality. “why are we hiding?”

“sorry,” he splutters, backing off a bit but not enough to have you far from touching him. “i don’t want—someone could see us.”

“now, why are you afraid of that?” you grin, sly enough to make kaveh comprehend that you know exactly what he’s called you over here for. you do the—the thing again, where you trace shapes on his nape, and he shivers helplessly.

“i like you too much,” kaveh says, his face too red to be passed off as sunburnt.

suddenly, all the confidence he thought he had when he left the tavern dissipated. “you know what i mean. can you—no, will you… ugh, i’m not doing it right—”

you meet his gaze, and you don’t look away, the long silence starting to grow distressing for kaveh.

“kaveh,” you say softly, and that’s when kaveh’s expression crumbles. it could be because of how you said it, carving his name with your mouth so tenderly, but really, it’s because he feels like you wouldn’t look at him the same way ever again.

“yes.”

…wait.

you cup his cheek, pulling him closer to you by his hips. “yes, yes.”

“wait,” kaveh says, “really?”

you bristle, tilting your head down. are you embarrassed? kaveh feels a thrill run down his spine. “yes. about time—we finally did something about the unbearable tension between us. so, if you’re willing to have me…”

“yes, yes,” kaveh says, to all of that. “god, yes.”

embarrassed, you bury your face on his shoulder. kaveh can’t hide how fast his heart is beating when you’re directly on top of it. when you’re in it. “but listen, kaveh, i don’t know if i can stay here in sumeru forever. and i know it will be hard. so if you aren’t—”

kaveh is too happy to think too hard about that.

“no,” kaveh says, “no, i still want to try. please, let’s try.”

“okay,” you breathe, smiling brightly. “kiss me already, will you?”

kaveh prays and prays and thanks their archon that this isn’t fleeting. don’t let it be, not when he has you, and he has already found out your lips meld perfectly with his.

lord sangemah bay commissions him.

in the first few minutes after dori told him that she could care less about what he wanted to do with the place, kaveh didn’t know what to do with himself. he wanted to do everything, but when all of it comes rushing at once, he’s frozen in place instead.

he takes a step in the direction of the house of daena, then another, and another, until he’s sprinting and his heart is racing enough to have a smile crack across his face.

he spends the night in there. he feels crazy; other students can sense madness in his eyes. they all leave him be, as if they know that once they ask, kaveh will never stop talking.

kaveh feels his wrist sore, but he can’t stop. he wouldn’t be able to if he even tried, not when he thinks of a sinking leaf for a roof, windows shaped like petals, and your words—

kaveh pauses, glancing at the clock that has definitely been spinning faster than he remembered.

it’s sunrise. he gets back to work.

“you’re grinning ear-to-ear,” you say, poking kaveh’s cheek. “you’re not telling me something.”

kaveh isn’t. but only on purpose. he takes your hand and uses it to kiss the back of your palm as he blinks up at you, the embodiment of innocence. “what are you talking about? i told you about it. dori commissioned me, and she said that i’ll be in charge of the approval of the design and the construction process…”

while kaveh explains all this, gesturing wildly with his hands, he trails off when realizing you had just been staring at him fondly. his heart skips a beat or two.

“why—why are you just staring like that?”

“it’s hard not to.”

he kisses you square on the mouth, the blueprint of the palace of alcazarzaray hidden beneath his palms, and he thinks he’s never been happier.

(and under the same stars, the withering slithers in, and everything crashes down faster than kaveh could even say please, no.)

a/n art if you’re reading this i didn’t tell you but this is actually a second chance fic cus i remember you saying it’s one of your favorite tropes 🤧 but anyway ty for reading!

[backandimbamon]

inspired by @klonnieshippersclub 💋💋

“Bonnie Mikaelson.” Damon has the urge to do something with his hands. They were occupied before, too busy warming his glass of dark red O-positive and bourbon cocktail but he’s lost his appetite. “That doesn’t even sound right.”

“I think it does,” Elena’s viewing, no admiring Bonnie’s fancy wedding invitation on the weighted paper specifically destined for special occasions. There’s a picture of witchy and her fiancé together, so possessed by one another that their eyes are on each other instead of breaking the fourth wall and smiling at the camera.

Dreadful.

The Niklaus Mikaelson is staring at Bonnie like nothing else matters and her face is a reflection of his. It’s unsettling; two of the most guarded individuals he’s encountered in his lifetime have dropped every defense with their wide, honest smiles and knowing gazes.

Is this a practical joke, Damon wants to ask but Elena is here- if he even gives life to the words, there is a strong possibility that she will deny the absurdity of this unfortunate event, blindly in favor of whatever decision Bonnie makes even when it’s the wrong one.

For now, he chooses silence. On the inside, he is shouting.

Damon sidles up next to his girlfriend, not because he’s feeling romantic, but because he must investigate this picture. He’s already stared for an indefinite amount of time, yet the urge to pick apart and criticize hasn’t left. It’s stronger than ever.

The picture is intimate, as if they are laughing at some joke no one else hears, or speaking telepathically the way couples do. They’re both saying the same thing: I love you.

And Damon thinks it’s deplorable.

Still, there’s a tug inside of him because he could’ve sworn she looked at him just like that, after he’d said something completely inappropriate, and Bonnie, she doesn’t want to laugh, yet he always seems to strangle the sound out of her without much effort on his part.

And sure, they might’ve been living the same day eternally and, yes they might’ve been the last two people on Earth, (or so they thought,) but it still counts for something… right?

“Right about what?” Elena’s brown eyes are on him, a small glimmer of concern.

He’s beside himself so much so that he’s talking without his own permission. This event to bear witness to, this marriage might just be the thing that makes him… Insane, probably.

“She looks so happy,” Elena sighs in content, staring at the Save the Date affectionately. “I can’t help but feel the same way. Her smile is infectious, isn’t it?”

He’s not even hearing her.

The date of the wedding is a year from now, give or take a few days, on Sunday, May 5th.

Why they would choose a destination such as hot, stinky, swampy, bad roads, boisterous streets Louisiana, is beyond him- they’ll have to plan in advance to attend. He’s been looking so intently that Damon can recite the RSVP number in reverse.

The colors for the wedding are complicated and impractical, but Klaus, Bonnie’s soon-to-be-husband knows about color theory…apparently when he isn’t being a terrorist, or getting on one knee for Bennett witches after a measly eight months of dating, he dabbles in art.

Yeah, well, so did Hitler.

“What alternate universe are we in?” He speaks again, unable to hold his peace. “I mean, how in the hell does someone like him get to marry Bonnie? It’s Klaus.” He shrugs. And then he snorts, rolls his eyes to the ceiling, “That’s like me proposing to her.”

“Is it?” Elena is using her therapist voice, a tone she’s returning to more often than not when Damon mentions anything concerning their best friend. Before, she used this tone of voice sparingly, mostly to help comprehend the shift in their relationship dynamic when Bonnie returned from the prison world, but now, it’s all he hears.

Damon shrugs again, going out on a limb to say, “Maybe it’s worse.”

“Or maybe you’re just bias. You know, a lot of people didn’t understand how we worked either, once upon a time.” She lifts the invitation, her index finger extended. “But these two obviously adore each other. Klaus accepts nothing less than her being up under him at all times, and Bonnie is more than happy there. She barely comes out for drinks anymore.” Elena giggles at what she’s just remembered. “Now that I think of it, the last time I called her, I was interrupting. Apparently they were very…busy.”

“Busy?” He shudders. (It isn’t jealousy that runs down his spine.)

Her brown eyes are on him again, gentle, imploring as if she’s reminding herself she’s not chatting with Caroline. “I know you’re super protective over Bonnie, I get it, me too, but Klaus is perfect for her. She probably hasn’t been this happy since…since….” at first Elena thinks, then it turns into a full on falter and he realizes she’s about to say since before the Salvatores came into town and ruined her bubbly little Sabrina-the-teenaged-witch life.

Elena abandons the sentence altogether.

Damon clenches his jaw. His mind is on the wedding invitation again, a wiry impulse to do everything he’s capable of to prevent such an on occurrence, for fear that bearing witness to it might unleash an ancient curse.

Something like indignation moves through him because yes, he looks closer with squinted eyes, a year ago, he was on the receiving end of Bonnie’s bleeding heart stare.

He wonders how could he have been dense enough to not notice that she was whispering her love without moving her mouth for so long.

He wonders why it’s so clear now that she isn’t looking at him.

“Just look at them,” Elena gushes, she’s been sold since the script typography, “We have to find a frame. ”

(more here)

[mvltisstuff]

Hi, I loved you recent fic about reader being Eddies sister, it was amazing.

Can we get a part two with reader and Buck getting to know each other and then eventually dating at the end 🙏

Love your fics keep up the good work.

mr. rager (cont.) - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @evanbuckleydaily

a/n: ok so eddie had the spotlight in part one but this is bucks part 🤭 this is a bit of a shorter one but i hope you like it 💗

“eddie,” y/n complained. “i really don’t think i want to start anything-“

“c’mon, he’s nice! i’ve known him for a while i swear he’s a good guy,” eddie attempts to convince y/n again.

“i know, i’ve met him before. i get that you have some weird obsession with him and me but pipe down.”

“alright! i’m just saying he is an option.”

truth? y/n and buck have been going out for weeks. they’ve been hanging out and getting dinner and they actually hit it off. she realized that there’s people out there who understand her. growing up, she felt more alone than anyone. until she found buck and his radiance, he were someone to confide in. buck always was the spotlight of criticism when he was being raised. between his parents and comparisons of him and maddie, it was intolerable, so he left. similar to y/n.

they knew all too well that eddie was trying to get them together, but why not try to mess with him? they figured they wanted to sneak around a bit, act like teenagers again. sure, eddie would be pissed, but y/n was gleaming with buck. buck knew she was different from all of the girls he’s been with. abby, ally, taylor, didn’t have the elements that y/n did when she came into the room. the elements that buck needed.

they were both surprised when the other started spitting out their exact feelings, finishing their sentences like they were a psychic. it was scary at the beginning. y/n figured those issues would eventually crash together, causing damage that couldn’t reverse. she couldn’t bear to lose buck so early on.

as mentioned, they were continuously sneaking around, avoiding eddie and people who could say something. so usually, they were just at buck or y/n’s apartment where no one could bother them. y/n was laying on bucks bed, propped up on her elbows with bucks lips pressed against hers. her hands rubbed against his forearms as his were keeping himself above her, loving on her neck and admiring her lips. they stayed in that position until y/n sat up, running her hands through bucks growing hair and letting them fall to his jaw.

bucks shift had ended a few hours ago, and after long hours of working, he texted y/n, wanting her to come over. so there they were, making out in bucks small apartment.

“when do you have to go to work?”

“don’t worry about it,” buck smiles, continuing to kiss her.

“just wanna know how much time we have,” she smirks and the knocking on bucks front door interrupts them. “clearly not as much as i had hoped.”

“ugh,” buck groans, planting one more quick peck on y/n’s lips before rushing downstairs to peek into the peephole. his heart races when he sees his best friends figure waiting by the door, six-pack in his hand. “shit!”

“what’s wrong-“

“go in the bathroom, it’s your brother!” buck whisper-yells.

“why is he here?” y/n asks, frantically trying to decide what to do.

“i’ll cover for you, just, i’m so sorry,” he stutters and moves to open the door. y/n locks herself in bucks bathroom, standing there until eddie leaves. “uh, hey! what’s up?” he asks awkwardly.

“nothing much… bad time?”

“no! no, you’re good,” buck moves to let eddie in. he’s trying to make it seem less suspicious, so he just decides to let him stop by for a few minutes. “i just woke up anyway.”

“makes sense, your hairs a mess,” eddie says, making bucks eyes widen and run his fingers through it. “relax, buck. what’s got you so on edge?”

“me? i’m fine!”

“alright,” eddie replies, not believing a word of his act. “i was gonna see if y/n was busy, but she didn’t answer her phone.”

“is she at work?”

“no, her shift would have ended a while ago,” eddie tells him. “here, i’m gonna call her again.”

“are you sure?” buck spits. “it’s just, maybe she’s asleep? or out with people? or on a date?”

“c’mon, it’s y/n. i’m just gonna make sure she’s ok,” eddie presses her name on his phone and buck immediately knows his fate. he’s screwed, basically. eddie would be pissed if he found out they didn’t tell him. shouldn’t they have said something sooner? it doesn’t matter now, because he’ll find out anyway. eddie unfortunately notices the distinct ringtone of y/n’s coming from above, on his nightstand. buck tries to cover it up by coughing, but eddie just puts his phone down.

“nice try, buck,” he crosses his arms. “where is my sister?”

“i-i don’t know what you mean-“

“y/n?” eddie shouts, knowing that she’s been hiding in there somewhere. even in the bathroom, she silently curses buck, trying to figure out which part of his brain told him to do this. no turning back now, though. she flicks the lock and pulls the door open, smiling awkwardly as she steps out of the bathroom. “come down here.”

she steps down, carefully incase she has to make a run for it. maybe she should do that anyway, just escape to el paso from the pure embarrassment she feels.

“and how long have you been seeing each other and not telling me?”

“oh, you know just a-“

“four months.” buck speaks, quickly and it’s barely inaudible.

“sorry, did you say four months?” eddie exclaims. “why didn’t you say anything?”

“you had your fair share of sneaking around growing up? i’m a grown woman, i can see whoever i want. and buck is a grown man, he can make his own decisions.”

“i’m not mad, i’ve just been trying to make this work for months!”

“well, congrats,” buck adds. eddie takes a beer from the pack and takes the lid off.

“tía owes me $20,” he adds, taking a sip of the beer.

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

Hannibal? Meeting Mads at RDC6

Following on from meeting Hugh in Boston and gifting him a copy of Adapt. Evolve. Become: The Genderqueer Fandom of NBC's Hannibal, I wanted to gift a copy to Mads.

No disrespect to Mads, but I wasn't expecting (and didn't get) the same sort of interaction I had with Hugh. I've met Mads at many cons before, including one in 2018 right before I had top surgery where I had a lovely chat with him about queer and trans Fannibals.

But I've noticed over the years, including from accounts of other Fannibals too, that he's become much more guarded in his conversations. Which is fair, his star has been forever on the rise and he's been working for bigger studios and properties. But as a trans person, I am always very cautious when people become much less vocal about something they previously seemed to support - though I do acknowledge that some people just don't want to get dragged into what they see as a volatile issue. And I knew, given how much more stoic he's become, and the time limitations of signings at cons, that this would be the case regardless of his personal point of view.

Also (and I've mentioned this before in posts about his answers on con panels), Mads has a habit of just saying what he thinks people want to hear, and what will get the biggest reaction - he's a master at fanservice. Which even includes repeating the same stories (Fragile Little Teacup for example). Which again, is not a criticism, but an observation and another reason why I was pretty nervous about meeting him again. And that was BEFORE a couple of different Fannibals approached me with concerns that some of the things he'd said at RDC6 hinted that he might be making a movie that may include a trans character in an unflattering way. (I'm still on the fence about whether that was his meaning, but I'm glad I'm already pretty emotionally divorced from him since he did FB).

ANYWAY! I had talked with the fantastic wholeanddeadly before the event and we agreed on getting his brilliant "F**k transphobia Grindelwald" art print signed in order to auction it for trans charity (in fact we ended up getting two!). As we knew in advance we would be doing this, I wanted to let Mads know, because I don't feel right auctioning something without someone's knowledge if we had already made that plan.

So, this is what happened:

I was maybe third of forth in the queue (which was huge), so this was going to be a whistle stop and I'd thought carefully how to frame it and use my words wisely. So I walked up and he said "Hello, Sir!"

Which, thanks! (always love getting correctly gendered!)

I asked "May I give you a gift", and he said "Yes, of course!"

Whilst I was getting the book out of my back I told him that I met him in 2018 right before I had gender affirming surgery and he was very kind to me. His response was along the lines of "Oh yeah?"

I continued to tell him that since then, I have been involved a lot with of the trans and non-binary Fannibals and we made this book because of what the show means to us. He took it and flicked through and stopped at some of the art and admired it. He asked if it was just about Hannibal, and I said yes because I totally blanked in the moment, so the HEU stuff will be a nice surprise for him, lol.

Then the art print got passed over by his helper and I said I didn't want him to personalise the photo as I wanted to auction it to a charity that supports trans youth if he's OK with that. And he replied "you can do anything you like with it, man." I said thanks, and we were all done.

Whilst on the surface this was all good, I was definitely struck by the difference between this and times I'd met him before (especially in 2018). And perhaps it was just down to him being more guarded, but it felt very... standoffish. Which is fine, it is what it is.

The funniest thing is that Mads often signs the characters name on the things he signs, and the one we already had signed the day before via a friend, he didn't put the character name on it. On the one he signed for me, he did: Hannibal.

I saw him hesitate part way through signing the name but it just made me chuckle at the potential that this character meant so little to him he didn't recall his name and then the next day confused him for another character - Trans Rights Wizard Hannibal!

Anyway. I hope he reads the book. I hope he gets something out of it. I hope he's not making a transphobic movie.

And I hope you'll all check out @transhanniday on here (and on Twitter), where the two signed prints and some other bits will be going up for auction soon! The proceeds will be going to UK trans youth charity Mermaids, the same charity that Deadly supported with his original art prints.

[submissivegayfrenchboy2]

08 / 12 / 2024

🇺🇲🇬🇧 ENGLISH / ANGLAIS 🇺🇲🇬🇧

Sometimes I'm so tired of being myself. About the life I have, like this impression that if I don't have happiness, it's because I don't deserve it. Yes, I am not short of money (even if I earn little money), I live in a peaceful family (but very divided, with a lot of social, economic, political problems), I have a family and friends, I can go to school. Yes. But it shouldn't be something exceptional, it should be normal. Because, in reality, I have no reason to complain and I should only blame myself if I can't be happy.

The problem is that I do everything for others, everything to make people happy with me, I don't create problems.

And yet, it's never good enough. I can't go into details, and it doesn't matter because the majority of you probably only see me as an author or blogger.

I had more friends and followers on my old blog, but luckily I managed to find most of them again thanks to my new blog.

I think of @tidodore2 @leftprogrammingroadtripdean @awesomecrowdcontrol1 @fartfagoutlet @theleomarspt2 @bdsmaistories @antoniomatosxd2 @houseboi999 many others that I forget and that I beg them to forgive me but of whom I think with all my heart, who helped me to going through difficult times in my recent life. They will recognize each other, and we speak in private.

Tumblr was certainly a refuge for a submissive young gay man like me. I loved writing stories, I had a hard time losing my previous blog and I'm happy to have come back. But Tumblr, despite my porn addiction, is a haven of peace for me who feels so much family pressure, who is constantly told that I'm bad at everything, that I only have faults. I am constantly belittled, criticized for the smallest thing I say or do, or what I don't say or do. For my family, all problems are my fault.

And that's why I want so much to find love, like Snow White, Aurora, Ariel, Belle... To be saved, protected...

Submission is only an element of a relationship, not its basis. I write about submission but not because I am submissive, but because I want to be. But being with someone I love. In my experience, serving someone you don't like or admire makes the situation very uncomfortable, which prevents good service.

I sometimes write about the Black New World Order, sometimes about the MAGA regime. But who can really say which diet I want the most? These are fictions, and although sometimes I wish one or the other would happen, sometimes especially one and sometimes especially the other, my ultimate goal is love, whether it be with a tall White male conservative and muscular or with a sublime virile and dominant Black man.

When I write about the size difference, it is to forget that being a small and skinny man on a daily basis is a real social handicap beyond the physical. When I write about public humiliation, it's because my life is so monotonous that being humiliated by sadistic men or women at work would seem almost entertaining to me, even when the character doesn't like being humiliated.

But when I think that many masters or mistresses write to me in private without even trying to understand me, and ask me directly if I want to be their slave even though they live far away, but what do they hope? What do I say yes? Why do I receive this kind of message and not messages of support or friendship?

I also receive them and I thank everyone who sends them to me, of course 😘

______________________________________

🇨🇵 FRANÇAIS / FRENCH 🇨🇵

Parfois, j'en ai tellement marre d'être moi-même. De la vie que j'ai, comme cette impression que si je n'ai pas de bonheur, c'est que je ne le mérite pas. Oui, je ne suis pas en manque d'argent (même si je gagne peu d'argent), je vis dans un famille en paix (mais très divisée, avec énormément de problèmes sociaux, économiques, politiques), j'ai une famille et des amis, je peux aller à l'école. Oui. Mais ça ne devrait pas constituer quelque chose d'exceptionnel, cela devrait être normal.

Car, en réalité, je n'ai pas de raison de me plaindre et je ne devrais m'en prendre qu'à moi-même si je n'arrive pas à être heureux. Le problème, c'est que je fait tout pour les autres, tout pour qu'on soit content de moi, je ne crée pas de problèmes. Et pourtant, ce n'est jamais assez bon. Je ne peux pas rentrer dans les détails, et cela importe peu car la majorité d'entre vous me voit sûrement uniquement comme un auteur ou un blogueur.

J'avais davantage d'amis et de followers sur mon ancien blog, mais heureusement j'ai réussi à les retrouver pour l'essentiel d'entre eux grâce à mon nouveau bloc.

Je pense à @tidodore2 @leftprogrammingroadtripdean @awesomecrowdcontrol1 @fartfagoutlet @theleomarspt2 @bdsmaistories @antoniomatosxd2 @houseboi999 d'autres que j'oublie et que je les prie de bien vouloir me pardonner mais à qui je pense de tout mon cœur, qui m'ont aidés à traverser des moments difficiles de ma vie récente. Ils se reconnaîtront, et nous parlons en privé. Il est certain que Tumblr a été un refuge pour un jeune gay soumis comme moi. J'ai adoré écrire des histoires, j'ai très mal vécu la perte de mon précédent blog et je suis heureux d'être revenu. Mais Tumblr, malgré mon addiction au porno, est un havre de paix pour moi qui ressent tellement de pression familiale, à qui l'on rép��te constamment que je suis nul en tout, que je n'ai que des défauts. Je suis rabaissé sans arrêt, critiqué pour la moindre chose que je dis ou fait, ou ce que je ne dis pas ou ne fait pas. Pour ma famille, tous les problèmes sont de ma faute. Et c'est pour ça que j'ai autant envie de trouver l'amour, tel Blanche-Neige, Aurore, Ariel, Belle... Être sauvé, protégé...

La soumission n'est qu'un élément d'une relation, pas sa base. J'écris sur la soumission mais pas parce que je suis soumis, mais parce que j'ai envie de l'être. Mais l'être avec une personne que j'aime. De mon expérience, servir une personne que l'on n'aime pas ou que l'on n'admire pas rend la situation très inconfortable, ce qui empêche un bon service. J'écris parfois sur le Nouvel Ordre Mondial Noir, parfois sur le régime MAGA. Mais qui peut dire vraiment quel régime je souhaite le plus ? Ce sont des fictions, et même si parfois j'aimerais que l'une ou l'autre arrive, parfois surtout l'une et parfois surtout l'autre, mon but ultime est l'amour, que cela soit avec un grand mâle blanc conservateur et musclé ou avec un sublime noir viril et dominant. Quand j'écris sur la différence de taille, c'est pour oublier que être un homme petit et maigre au quotidien est un réel handicap social au-delà du physique. Quand j'écris sur l'humiliation publique, c'est parce que ma vie est tellement monotone que être humilié par des hommes ou des femmes sadiques au travail me paraîtrait presque divertissant, même quand le personnage n'aime pas être humilié. Mais quand je pense que beaucoup de maîtres ou de maîtresses m'écrivent en privé sans même chercher à me comprendre, et me demande directement si je veux être leur esclave alors qu'ils habitent loin, mais qu'espèrent-ils ? Que je dise oui ? Pourquoi est-ce que je reçois ce genre de message et pas des messages de soutiens ou d'amitié ? (j'en reçois aussi et je remercie tout ceux qui me les envoient, bien évidemment 😘)