#whether I have the attention span is another question

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Kafkaesque

Summary: On the flight back home, Spencer and Reader exchange books to read, and Spencer is surprised by your selection.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Funny, fluff-ish

Content warnings: Franz Kafka (i like him but whatever)

Word count: 1k

The team is on the jet heading back to Quantico after yet another successful case was solved. The tensions of a stressful arrest started to quell as only clusters of city light started to become their only view for the rest of the flight. Morgan has already passed out listening to music, taking up two seats for himself, while Hotch, Emily, Rossi, and J.J. stay occupied by playing poker. Their banter filled the cabin along with the sound of shuffling cards, and actual chips were exchanged instead of poker chips.

You and Spencer, on the other hand, decided this was the perfect time for reading. You had been discussing the idea of exchanging books to get each other’s opinion, since you two are the only consistent readers among your colleagues (and also because Spencer’s banned from playing poker for cheating (again)).

You only briefly got to start each other’s selection before landing, but now there was plenty of time to cross some of the short stories of Sherlock Holmes off your TBR. Considering you were reading in the same space, you expected this to be more of a challenge. Because Spencer is a fast reader. A notoriously fast reader. To the point where Hotch has prevented him from reading while questioning witnesses. The speed at which he combs through books knocks off their focus. You’ve seen it yourself, so much that it’s not as funny as it was when you started here.

Nevertheless, you explore the world of Sherlock Holmes. As you turned the pages, you marveled at the intricacies of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s storytelling. The deductive prowess of Holmes and the vivid depiction of Victorian London transport you to another time and place. Andrew Scott’s charismatic portrayal of Moriarty in the TV adaptation flickered through your mind, though you wisely kept that observation to yourself. Last time, Spencer gave a passionate lecture on the discrepancies between books and television adaptations, citing difference in attention spans, and you had no desire to open that can of worms again.

Amid the familiar hushed ambiance of the cabin, you felt a familiar sensation—the piercing gaze of someone fixated on you. It was a feeling you had grown accustomed to, whether it was the malevolent eyes of criminals from afar of the intense scrutiny across an interrogation table. You tore your attention away from the pages of your book to meet Spencer’s eyes. His expression was contemplative, yet he was less than a third through the book.

“Wanna trade already?” You asked, breaking the silence.

“No, no,” Spencer replied, his lips pursed as he continued to study you.

You raised a brow. “Any questions I could answer?”

“How did you come across him?” He held up your book, “The Complete Short Stories” by Franz Kafka.

“Oh,” you shrugged, “just those angsty high school years, you know?”

Spencer’s nose wrinkled at that. No, he, in fact, did not know what you meant. Because he wasn’t old enough to have angsty high school years. And if he did have any at all, they would have been during college—neither period of his life he cared to recall.

“You’ve seriously never picked up Franz Kafka?” You asked him. “You? Spencer Reid? The equivalent of a human encyclopedia?”

“Only some of his short stories were used for college lectures.”

“Okay.” You feigned a laugh. “So what’s the problem?”

“What was your childhood like, Y/N?”

Your face widened in shock before a sly smirk emerged. “Are you seriously profiling me because of my favorite author? That’s absurd!” The urge to playfully smack him surfaced, but the goodness of your heart made you resist (also because this isn’t your book you’re holding). “Kafka enthusiasts come in all forms, you know. Like everybody else.”

“He’s your favorite author?” Spencer chuckled, still very surprised.

You nodded. “And what about it?”

“You’re just so… happy all the time.”

You cocked your head to the side. A small laugh slipped out as you said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Reid. Should I have brought ‘The Adventures of Strawberry Shortcake’ to help maintain your image of me?”

“No! I mean…” Your shared laughter briefly interrupted his train of thought. “It’s just not what I expected from you.”

“Hm.” You settled back in your seat, opening the book to where your thumb rested between the pages. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” You’re ready to get back to reading, but you still look at Spencer.

His eyes sparkled, and the curiosity of something becoming more complex than intended makes his brain run for miles. “Perhaps I don’t.”

As the jet continued its steady course back to Quantico, you and Spencer settled into cozy companionship, growing more familiar with each trip. The ambiance remained peaceful, with the faint hum of the engines serving as soothing background noise for your literary exploration.

You find yourself engrossed in the world of Sherlock Holmes once more, relishing in the intricate puzzles and razor-sharp deductions. Andrew Scott continued to dance in your mind from time to time, a testament to the power of well-crafted adaptations (excluding season four. You never told Spencer there was a fourth season).

You were also increasingly aware of Spencer’s presence beside you. Instead of the prickling sensation of having eyes on you, his knee brushed lightly against yours, sending tingles through your body, along with zero doubt it was accidental, considering this guy hesitates to shake hands. He still took the time to look at you after some moments of reading, as if he were deducing what certain Kafka works in that book could mean to you exactly. He flipped through the pages—actually reading—like he would find the answers.

You heard him swallow. “So, uh, why is he a roach in this one?”

“Because that’s how he feels.” You knocked your knee against him this time. “Just keep reading, Spencer. We’ll discuss it after.”

You watched him bite his lips closed as he tried to suppress a smile.

[yuoimia]

what if i told you none of it was accidental?

summary: you play hard to get. what’s their reaction?

chars: xiao, childe, tighnari, kaveh, diluc, zhongli, albedo, dainsleif, cyno, kazuha, ayato, heizou, kaeya, alhaitham, wanderer, baizhu.

cw: gn reader, just them being whipped for you, character can fit more than one category.

just tries harder - xiao, childe, tighnari, kaveh.

they can be a little oblivious to your initial reaction. but, no matter how difficult you’re oddly presenting yourself to be, they’ll just take it as a sign to try harder and be better. of course, this newfound motivation does lead them to do some questionable things, that’s for sure. all in the name of love, you could say. all to grasp your attention, all to make sure you’re thinking about them, and hopefully, with fingers crossed, that you’ll understand how hard they’re trying. all for one chance.

knows what you’re doing, but continues trying - diluc, zhongli, albedo, dainsleif.

they love how discreet you think you are. but they definitely know what’s going on. perhaps they simply adore watching you enjoy yourself, harmlessly toying with them. it’s like a little game between the two, a bet to see who’ll be first to crack. the first to spill their not-so-secretive feelings towards one another. they’ll persist through the obstacles you, whether purposeful or not, without a second's doubt.

knows what you’re doing, and turns the tables - cyno, kazuha, ayato, heizou, kaeya.

these guys can play a little bit dirty, but only for the good of you both. you could view it as a favor, saving you from being hopelessly infatuated, or rather, an irritating thing he’s put in place to ruin your pride. somehow, in a span of days, it went from you establishing a meek idea to ignore him to you looking for him. it’s delirious. unfathomable. how could this have happened? what did they do? but to them, it doesn’t matter. they already know you’ve fallen, just waiting to be caught.

confronts you - alhaitham, wanderer, baizhu

look, they can be a bit straightforward with their emotions and actions. though they usually prefer to hide their innermost thoughts, this new feeling is something he believes should be told to you as soon as they’re sure. but it sure doesn’t help at all how you’re behaving—nonchalant actions hidden behind teasing smiles. although they agree it’s a bit of a strange act, they won’t deny how endearing it proves. calling it common sense, they confront you about it. It's a bit abrupt, but if it gets them their desperate answers, then it should be worth it, right?

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Furiosa viewing #3 for me last night and I figured something out. I have heard multiple people say that the pacing of the movie felt off or weird or even "slow," even though the plot consistently moves along at a brisk clip. But what people were noticing was not the speed of the story but the structure.

I realized the pacing feels weird because the movie has two third acts.

The overwhelming majority of movies released by Hollywood studios follow a very standardized three-act structure. This is certainly not the only way to structure a film story, but it's the most common one in the Anglophone film world, so common that you have probably absorbed its pattern without even thinking about it. The previous Mad Max movies do generally fit this structure, and Fury Road fits it like, down to the minute.

When we get to the big fight sequence at the Bullet Farm, where we know Jack has prepared everything for Furiosa to leave and they just have to get through this one last mission together, my gut story sense was like this feels like it should be the third act. The fight in the Bullet Farm and the chase with Dementus that ends in Jack's death feels like it should be the climax of the movie. And not just because we are around the two-hour mark at this point, although we are.

In terms of themes and plot arcs and story beats, Jack's death feels like where the movie should end. We start the story with Mary Jabassa telling Furiosa to leave her behind and make it home safe. I'm sure Mary knows she's on a suicide mission at this point, but maybe she can hold off their attackers long enough for her daughter to escape. But Furiosa can't leave her mom behind. So she goes back, and she watches her mom die brutally and gets trapped by Dementus.

Then, at the Bullet Farm, Furiosa has her best chance yet at getting home. She has a fully loaded vehicle, and she's outside the Bullet Farm gates while Jack is stuck inside. Jack, too, tells her to run and save herself. (While it's never spelled out, I'm sure we're supposed to intuit that the green flare means GO.) He probably thinks he's dead either way at this point, but maybe Furiosa can make it out. But once again, she can't do it. She goes back to defend Jack, and we have this little bit of hope of, maybe this time she'll be able to save the person she cares about from being killed by the same warlord who killed her mother. Whether she succeeds or fails, narratively, this feels like it should be the climactic action sequence of the movie.

But there's still another 30 (ish?? I need to watch with a timer) minutes to go after that, in which we have a whole other plot arc of Furiosa getting back to the Citadel, making her prosthetic arm, and going off on her quest to hunt down Dementus. And if this part all feels a bit grueling, it's because your brain expected the movie to end half an hour ago.

(I should pause here to say that you absolutely can write a movie in three-act structure that's longer than 2 hours--you just have to stretch all the pieces out equally or it starts to feel lumpy. And the place where our attention spans are going to be least forgiving of lumpiness is at the end of the movie.)

Well, you might say, maybe Furiosa was just not written with the three-act structure in mind. And that could be true! But I would argue that the oddness of the end of the movie comes primarily from the film not being clear on what narrative question it's trying to answer.

Because an ending that focuses on Furiosa's choice between finally getting home or going back to try to save Jack is addressing the question of, "Do you prioritize saving yourself, or do you fight for the people you love, even if you may end up in a worse situation because of it?"

An ending that follows Furiosa's revenge quest seems to focus more on, "What does seeking revenge do to your humanity?"

Both of these questions are rich territory to be explored in the wasteland, and the other Mad Max movies deal with both of them. But I would argue that the first question is very clearly set up in the beginning of the movie as a thing we expect to be exploring, and the second question, not so much.

I think the story would have benefitted from picking one or the other. And if they wanted to tell a story about the price of revenge, then highlighting this earlier--either by making revenge Furiosa's primary motivation from the beginning, or highlighting it thematically by showing how the quest for revenge warps other characters--would have made the last section of the movie feel more like a payoff and less like a sudden left turn into the desert.

[nvrswrld]

hi there! can you please write akito with a reader that has a crush & its suuuuuuper obvious about it, so he can't help but tease reader and get them super flustered? thank you!

Rabbit Hole — Akito Shinonome

"Gonna be a smitten mitten till the day you die?"

— in which An gets you to confess to Akito.

akito shinonome x fem!reader

tags: fluff, characters might be a little ooc, probably shit lmao i wrote this at one in the morning, cut me some slack

note: i literally squealed when i read this request i love akito sm

You've been in school for nine years, yet you still struggle with paying attention in class. It wasn't just the teachers who had poor teaching tactics, which didn't help you activate your brain for the remainder of the day, but it was also the lack of sleep you got each night. You spent more time scrolling on social media than you did working on your homework. It was the poor attention span that troubled you. It was your fault, though. You knew you should've been responsible enough to better yourself in these situations. You were getting to that age, anyway. Soon, you would be independent and no longer under the wing of safety connected to your parents.

But until then, you would continue to feed off your friends.

It helped you get things done faster, so it couldn't have been that bad. You weren't entirely dependent on them, but only just a little. Both An and Mizuki were in the same class as you, so that gave you even more of a reason to slack off whenever they attended. They didn't really mind, either. It just gave you three another reason to hang out after school, therefore it was more of a blessing than a curse. Sitting in the corner booth of Weekend Garage, sipping on piping hot coffee, chowing down on sweet treats, and praying to whatever god up there that one of them had the answers to the homework. It was the highlight of your year.

This afternoon was the same as any other. You rested your chin against the table, tapping the end of your pen against your workbook and staring off into space while An yapped Mizuki's ear off about whatever the hell they were talking about. Another part of your guys' "study session" was that it always took at least thirty minutes for you all to actually get to work. It was a lengthy process, but you still somehow managed to get work done.

After yawning and raising your head from the table to lean back comfortably against the booth seat, An switched her attention from Mizuki to you. She smirked pridefully and played with a strand of her hair. "Y'know, y/n, me and Akito did some talking during practice yesterday, and—"

"What did you do?" You asked in horror, slowly sinking down the seat. An shook her head, a sign that your fear was unnecessary. "I didn't say anything, okay?" She took a large gulp of her coffee before continuing her explanation. "We just played a little game of 'what if'."

"By 'we played' do you mean you forced him to answer your questions while he tried to get work done?" Mizuki interjected, to which An rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes, but that's not the point. The point is..."

She paused, leaving you in suspense. Her mouth stayed open for a bit, before shutting—but there was still a smirk on her face. You raised an eyebrow. "The point is?"

She shrugged. "Actually, I'll let you find out on your own."

You couldn't help but get butterflies from that sentence alone. Whether they were good or bad was unknown, but it made you feel nervous, nonetheless. "C'mon An," you begged, "don't be evil..."

You turned to Mizuki, desperation written on your face. "Do you know anything?"

"No," she answered, "nothing for sure. But can I offer my two cents?" You nodded eagerly and waited for her to speak again. "He never snaps at you, but he sure does tease the hell out of you. Odd, don't you think?"

"Right?" An agreed. "He even snaps at Toya sometimes, and that's his best friend."

"What if I just get Ena to put you on?" Mizuki questioned, to which you immediately declined her offer. You chuckled humorlessly and played with the hem of your shirt. "Absolutely not! She would totally make fun of me until the end of time. Maybe even criticize my taste in guys, if she's feeling extra mean..."

Mizuki scoffed and mocked you. "As if she can't already tell you're crushing on him."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you can't act normal around him for the life of you," the bluenette answered for her. "He doesn't even have to be in the room. We could just be talking about him and you'll start giggling like a little girl."

"No, I don't! I didn't even giggle today!"

"Yeah, because you were too busy trying to not have a panic attack over whether I told Akito about your feelings for him or not," she countered, to which Mizuki agreed.

"Yeah, it's, like, painfully obvious how bad you have it for him. I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew. Maybe that's why he teases you so much."

If that was the case, you wouldn't know what to do. If he already knew, then why wouldn't he just tell you instead of making you wait so long for a fifty-fifty answer? The thought made you want to throw up. Not that it was bad, but it was nerve-wracking. It would be nice if he did know, but what if he didn't feel the same? What then? You placed your hand on your stomach and pouted subconsciously. "All this stress is making my stomach hurt."

"And all this pussying out is making my head hurt," Mizuki joked. Meanwhile, An was scrolling on her phone, barely paying attention to the conversation now. "C'mon, y/n! I'm sure if you tell him, he'll be nice about it."

"No, he won't," you whined. "Guys are never nice about this stuff. The last time I confessed to a guy, he told the entire class and they all made fun of me for a month."

"That was in primary school, y/n..."

"So what? It still happened!"

"Y'know what?" An spoke up as she tidied up her area, putting her books and pens back into her schoolbag. "What if we help you practice a confession?" You raised an eyebrow and asked what she meant. "Mizuki will cover your eyes, and I'll pretend to be Akito. Then, you work your magic and confess!"

"Why does Mizuki have to cover my eyes—?"

"Because it'll help you focus on envisioning his presence." It didn't take a genius to know that she completely pulled that claim out of her ass, but you chose to just let her get away with it. "C'mon, y/n! It's getting sad watching you drool over him without knowing if he feels the same or not."

You let out a defeated sigh and threw your head back. "Okay, okay. We can practice, or whatever."

Little did you know that agreeing to her idea would be the best and worst decision you've ever made.

As to why you were doing this outside was a mystery. Maybe it was to avoid getting weird looks from people inside the cafe, but it was equally as bad—and probably worse—to do outside the building. You stood in front of An, awkwardly rubbing at your arm to distract yourself from the pure embarrassment you felt every time someone walked past you three. Mizuki and An, however... You really needed their confidence, because they did not seem to give a shit about gaining people's attention.

"Alright," An said cheerfully, "close your eyes and just imagine that I'm Akito. Mizuki, you cover her eyes so she can't see for sure." Mizuki did as she was told, lightly cupping her hands over your eyes. With that, An cleared her throat and spoke up a second time. "Are you imagining him?"

"Uh," you muttered nervously, "sure, I guess." It took a while for her to speak up again, but you assumed that she had gotten distracted by her phone again. "Now say what you have to say. Don't think about it; just let it flow out."

"...An, this is stupid."

"Trust me! It'll help!"

You sighed and took your time to think. Let the words flow out, you thought. It couldn't be that hard. It was like you were talking to yourself. All you had to do was just forget about An and Mizuki, and you were good. You imagined a world where everything was perfect. A world where it was just you and Akito, for the time being. A world where no one could make fun of you for expressing yourself. A world where everything went your way. You clenched your hands into fists and swallowed hard, preparing to vocalize your thoughts and feelings.

"...since you're totally Akito," you began sarcastically, still finding the whole concept to be ridiculous, "I guess now's the time to finally tell you about how much I'm soooo in love with you, and how annoying it's been to have to deal with these feelings, knowing damn well that I was way too scared to actually tell you about them without my friends forcing me to. And I guess I have to talk about how irritating it is to have to deal with your teasing without knowing if it's platonic or not. And I guess I have to talk about how this is probably a huge waste of time because I know that I'll just pussy out when I actually want to try to confess to you."

You could hear Mizuki sigh behind you. "You're not taking it seriously, y/n!"

"What's the point? It's not like I'm gonna tell him anything anytime soon, so what's the—"

During your mini-rant, you pulled Mizuki's hands away from your eyes and opened them. Instead of An standing in front of you, she was beside Akito, who was now where she stood before. You felt your entire body freeze up at the sight of him. Not only that, but your heart fell all the way down to your ass. He was smirking at you, seemingly finding the situation to be amusing.

"—That's the point," Mizuki finished for you. Not that you were even listening. You were too busy trying to not start hyperventilating. "Why are you here?" You timidly questioned. He was supposed to be at work, so why the hell was he here now?

"I'm on my break and An told me to come here," he answered smugly, not once breaking eye contact other than to blink. "What was that about you being soooo in love with me?" Your jaw clenched and your head became light. Is this what dying felt like? Because, honestly, you were hoping that your next breath was your last.

"It was just a joke," you blurted out and internally cursed at how stupid that lie was. Akito sneered and let out an 'uh-huh'. You weren't getting out of this easily, so you might as well just give up. "Akito," you muttered, "don't do this to me."

"I already knew before this," he admitted nonchalantly. "I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to tell me."

"It would've taken longer if An didn't set me up..." Maybe your crush on him was obvious, as much as you didn't want to believe it. "Can you just, like, tell me what you think so I can rest easily tonight?" He nodded and laughed a bit with that same annoying grin on his face. "I think you're cute, or whatever."

An let out an excited squeal before you could even process what he said. "And I think that you should come clean about this beforehand so we could actually…y'know."

"I don't know," you replied, to which Mizuki quickly spoke up with a grin of her own. "He wants you!" Akito sent her a glare but didn't deny it.

"You're making this a lot less enjoyable for me," he advised the girls. "But I guess that's one way to put it." It felt like the entire world was crumbling beneath your feet but in a good way. You couldn't help but play with your fingers as a nervous tic, but despite your anxiety, you were smiling. Wide. Before you knew it, you walked up to him and pulled him into a tight hug. Akito was caught off guard, but only for a bit. He eventually wrapped his arms around you as well and applied a sweet kiss on the top of your head. It was like a dream.

"Thanks, An…" you mumbled against his chest. You totally owed her after this.

written by @nvrswrld

[doppel-doodles]

It's doodling time fellas

I wanted to give myself a bit of a challenge so I decided to draw the ocs of a few people here on tumblr, with the added challenge of doing it fast-

Minimal erasing and redoing, basically whatever is slapped on the page first sticks whether I like it or not. And there is a little time limit on how much I can spent on each character so that I don't get distracted as easily.

Just a little exercise so that hopefully it'll get easier for me to throw down a sketch using few lines and not taking literal hours-w-" I know everyone has their own pace but I would like to be a faster artist.

Anyway my yapping aside and without further delay: The girlies💚💗💜❤

Now to who these lovely gals belong to:

Haiyang: @riptide-pools

Nawa: @auburnitzy

Suki: @peachy-puddin-cup

An he: @lumidotexe

For anyone interested I'll include some thoughts on each of these below the cut:>

Haiyang

The first one I did and I think it shows>~> I was basically more focused on just figuring out how I wanted to do this so I spent less time and energy on how I wanted the character to look in my style. In the end I settled on doing the basic shapes in pencil and then switching to colored fine liners for details.

With the colors also matches the way I draw digitally just a tiny bit more! Buuuut if I end up doing this again I definitely wanna redraw her, I wanna do this gorgeous character justice after all!/'w'/

Suki

Suuuuukiiii! I did draw her before so I decided to do this version, which I believe to be just her shadow form! While drawing I didn't actually give myself time to look it up cause ya know, no distractions which is why there is a question mark-

But my stupidity aside- here is where I started drawing a lot faster, I was in the zone if you will, so I spent what time I had left adding some variation to the line art. I do like this one and honestly she would probably be so much fun to render digitally so I'll see if I can if there is time:>

Nawa

NOW THIS IS WHERE THE FUN REALLY BEGAN-

Nawa just was such a blast honestly, probably because I was getting really comfortable at this point and let myself play around more with how I stylise the characters! I love me some funky eyes, its probably the most recognisable part of my style.

Also granted I don't know much on Nawa yet(fake fan I'm sorry-/j) I only recently followed the creator so I need to find time to just really browse through their blog and consume all the knowledge there is, but once I do I'll be unstoppable!>:D

An He

Last but certainly not least we finish with An He, who was a just a chill and nice lil drawing perfect to round out this doodle session-w- now I have actually read ERHS(shameless plug, read it it's so good- just need to find my attention span as I haven't caught up with it SOBS) so I have more knowledge on her.

For that reason I attempted to do a slimmer face shape, i wanted her built overall to read as visibly more thin and petite. Along side that I went for rings in her eyes as an allusion to sound waves as I didnt just wanna drop in a music note and call it a day.

however maybe I'll experiment more another time because I just dont think it reads that well:'<

That concludes my silly ramblings! Thanks for sticking around and if any of the creators of these lovely ladies see this- YOU HAVE AMAZING CHARACTERS AND I HOPE I DID THEM JUSTICE!- ahem.

If I do this again I'll definitely go for some male ocs as well for the sake of variety, it was a happy accident that I only drew girls here.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Them with a reader that tries to be Santa Claus

alternatively: Them with a reader that dresses up to hand out gifts

characters: Charlotte / Clorinde / Furina / Navia x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: Soon is christmas eve, aka the day I celebrate christmas on, so Merry Christmas everyone! And Happy Holidays/a nice weekend to those of you that don't celebrate! I hope you all have a great time!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Charlotte

The moment Charlotte first heard about the series of break-ins happening all over Fontaine, she set her mind on investigating them and writing a piece on them once she found the culprit. It wasn't every day that such an interesting case revealed itself after all, and letting it go to waste was the exact opposite of what a self-respecting journalist would do.

All of which was to say that meet-ups between you and Charlotte became rarer as her entire focus shifted towards her new project. So when you finally got the chance to meet, you wanted to make the most of it, getting each other up to speed on what you had been doing these past few days as quickly as possible before moving on to different topics.

“Now that I remember! I saw this really funny red and white coat and hat at that store recently, so I–” you were in the process of rambling while bending downwards and trying to fish the aforementioned hat out of your bag, when Charlotte suddenly interrupted you, her eyes wide open as she seemingly just remembered something.

“That reminds me of something! Have you heard of the recent break-ins all around the city? I’m currently investigating them, I’m sure it will make for a fantastic article, maybe even one of my best.” She asked, causing your head to tilt slightly as you stared at her in confusion, trying to recollect whether you’ve heard of them or not.

“Break-ins? Sorry Charlotte, this is the first I’ve heard of it. What made you remember it all of a sudden, though?” You returned the question, still bent down as you looked up at her.

“Apparently the perpetrator was seen wearing a red and white coat by eye-witnesses. It didn't seem like they wanted to remain hidden at all, especially since they left behind items each and every time, spanning from children’s toys to pieces of clothing… Oh! Maybe they are trying to threaten their victims!?”

The moment you heard Charlotte’s description, you froze, staring at her with increasingly wider eyes while slowly returning to your original position, putting the red hat back onto the bottom of your bag while shifting its contents around until it was covered by another item.

“Oh! Sorry for interrupting you, I just really wanted to tell you about it before I forgot, so I kinda ran my mouth. What were you saying about the hat and coat you saw while shopping?” Charlotte shifted her attention back to you, her usual big smile on her lips as she apologized, causing your face to nearly start blushing.

“O-oh yeah�� I thought about how weird they looked. Like, who in their right mind would buy something that stupid looking? Right?” You nervously laughed it off before quickly changing the topic.

Maybe– just maybe –today wasn’t the day to tell Charlotte about your brilliant idea to surprise people with gifts.

Clorinde

It was fair to say that if someone had asked Clorinde how she imagined her evening to go, “having to convince the guardes to release you after they had to fish your half-conscious and yet still screaming body out of some families chimney after you got stuck in it upside-down” definitely wasn’t going to be her predicted response. And yet here you were anyway. Having to explain the whole situation to a pair of justifiably disturbed parents and their child was exhausting enough, but having to do the same to Fontaine’s police force was a completely different story.

“Miss Clorinde, you want to tell me that the subject attempted to climb down someone’s chimney to… deliver them a present? I know the two of you are close, but are you absolutely sure that your perception of them might not be skewed by your relationship? Having to confront the fact that a friend or partner might not be as kind or innocent as thought can be a difficult process.” The guard asked her once again, a compassionate look on his face, only for Clorinde to shake her head resolutely.

“I’m absolutely sure of it. They may do questionable things from time to time, but there’s no doubt in my mind their intentions were well-meaning.” She responded, causing the guard to let out a deep sigh before putting his signature on the piece of paper in front of him.

“If that’s the case, you can pick them up over there… just please make sure to tell them not to do anything like it again. When it happens once, it could be a misunderstanding… if it happens twice, there’s no excuse.”

-

When the two of you finally left the building, you were holding on to Clorinde tightly, tears rolling down your face as your whole body trembled.

“I’m never doing it again. I thought I was going to die there! Can you imagine how scary it is to be stuck in such a tight place? I couldn’t even move my arms!” You finally managed to form a few coherent sentences, taking deep breaths every once and again as you didn’t seem to calm down until Clorinde reluctantly put one of her arms around you.

…There was nothing wrong with showing weakness, but could the two of you please go home please?

“Why are chimneys so small in the first place?” You eventually asked, not specifically aimed at Clorinde, rather any chimney Archon that might be eavesdropping on your conversation, causing her to let out a small sigh she didn’t realize she had held in before starting to move.

“Let’s get you home first before we discuss architectural matters.”

Furina

If you had asked her on any other day, Furina would have shot down your idea in an instant. The mental image of the former Hydro Archon donning a red hat, coat and fake white beard before handing out small presents to the residents of Fontaine passing by on the street being horrible enough to make her visibly cringe. And yet, when you asked in what was a conversation littered with jests, she jokingly accepted, thinking nothing more of it and quickly forgetting your proposal… that was until she opened her door on one winter day, only to find you standing there, dressed in the same outfit you had described all this time ago, with a second one in your bag.

While you seemed to have the time of your life, talking with a child and their parent in as deep of a voice as you could muster before showing them a big smile, letting out the same laugh she had at one point found amusing before quickly growing sick of it and handing them a small toy, the same could not be said for Furina. 

Sure, she did her best to imitate your cheerful act, her career as an actress making her performance perfect enough that Furina was sure no one was able to tell it was just a charade, but saying she was having a blast would be far from the truth…

“And? Is it as bad as you thought it was going to be?” You asked her in what was barely more than a whisper, making sure nobody around you would be able to hear your voice.

“This is embarrassing. I cannot believe I actually agreed to this. Aren’t you scared someone will find out who you are?” Furina responded in kind, only for you to let out your deep laugh once again, nearly causing her to cringe then and there. 

“Anyone looking for Furina would look for someone clearly just acting. So throw your worries out the window and just embrace the ridiculousness and you won't have to worry about a thing”, you explained, before giving her an amused smile. “Try it.”

“Try what–” Furina asked you in a confused manner, only for it to click the moment the words left her mouth, “--No. I’m not doing the laugh.”

“I promise you’ll start to enjoy this whole thing if you just do it.”

“I–... I cannot believe I’m actually starting to consider it.” Furina cut herself off with a sigh, before once again opening her mouth and finally following your advice. Letting out as deep of a laugh as possible while approaching the next parent and child she saw, only to receive a smile from you in response.

“Ho Ho Ho! What’s your name? Let me take a look at my list to see if you were a good child this year.”

Navia

Handing out gifts was one thing both you and Navia appreciated. No matter how much money you had, seeing someone’s eyes light up when they received a present was enough to turn even a middling day into a good one. And if there was one demographic besides your loved ones that felt great to give gifts to, it were children, so when you pitched your idea of dressing up and delivering presents to Navia, she was quick to take you up on it.

Having the outfits designed and made, as well as putting enough money to the side to buy enough toys to hand out to a all children of Poisson and Fleuve Cendre as well as a few of Fontaine’s overground took quite a bit of time, but once it was finally done, you and a few of your colleagues were ready to head out.

As Navia sat in her office, nervously glancing at her clock every now and then while waiting for you to return, she couldn’t help but start to worry. Making a few rounds in the Fleuve Cendre shouldn’t take that long. Sure, the canalisation could be a bit disorienting from time to time, but you had been down there often enough to know its layout like the back of your hand. Maybe you just made a quick stop somewhere along your way? No, you wouldn't be two hours late if you did… or maybe you ran into trouble?

Just as Navia was about to start imagining horror scenarios however, a knock on her door interrupted her thoughts, and when you waltzed into her office with an apologetic smile, she let out a sigh of relief.

“Where’s your costume?” Navia’s attention shifted to your clothes once she finally calmed down, only to find the red coat and hat missing. With a slightly embarrassed smile you signaled to the bag in your hand, previously full of toys, now containing nothing but your outfit. 

“A few kids asked me to play tag… and I kind of– Heh, tripped and into the water.” You nervously explained as Navia observed the clothes in your bag. “The parents of the child didn’t let me leave before I washed up and they could clean my costume, saying it would be wrong after everything the Spina did to help them… so that’s why I was late.”

“When I took a walk around Poisson I saw a lot of smiling children today. I’m sure your idea brightened many days, so thank you. Welcome home.”

[sunaluv]

“ALL YOU HAD TO DO IS TRY”

Prompt: fake dating is easier when your “partner” actually cares about their reputation, or anything else for that matter

Pairings: k.sakusa x famous!reader

Note: this got hella angsty out of nowhere😭 this was originally supposed to be head cannons

CW: reader is lonely and has been done dirty, not explicitly mentioned but hints at suicide, mentions of weight loss

It was dangerous going into such an agreement with feelings for a guy you promised you would not pursue, but what made it even more dangerous was having to choose between love and life.

You were evidently never good a choosing people to hang out with. Your ‘friends’ were either gold diggers, fame leeches or just straight up bitches, but you had to put up with them per your publicist’s request demand. At this point, you knew this would be an endless cycle of people being forced into your social circle to try and mend the cracks left by the person before them and you were sick of it. People really weren’t lying when they said “your probably happier than your idol will ever be in life”.

You kept up your side of the appearances. You went to his games flashing a perfected faux smile that was guaranteed to keep your name floating around social media for the next couple of weeks before something bigger or more stupid caught the short attention span of the internet. As much as it pained you to see them, paparazzi shots of you and him holding hands, feeding each other ice cream and other “normal couple things” seemed to grow the nations love for the two of you together.

But past the lenses, you could feel his hand twitching and itching to get away from you. You nearly cried when he spat out the ice cream you had fed him into a napkin under the excuse that it doesn’t fit his diet plan. Your heart shattered at the way his facade dropped as soon as you left the public eye, how he always put himself at maximum distance away from you.

—

Another lonely night. You lived together as your contract stated, but you did not live together. You understand he probably didn’t want to get too friendly with the stranger he was dating, but it surely wouldn’t kill him to acknowledge your presence once.

You started to lose weight, whether he was the sole reason, or part of it was unknown. If he noticed, he didn’t care enough to say anything. You wore baggy jumpers and tinted glasses to hide the consequences of you neglecting your body. You didn’t even realize how bad it had gotten until the media picked up on how ‘unhealthy’ you looked.

—

News spreads fast and it didn’t take long for yours and his publicists to meet up to revise the conditions of your contract.

“I don’t want to continue this anymore.”

You never imagined those would be the first and last words he spoke to you, addressed directly to you. His onyx eyes you once fawned over now made you want to throw up. To hide. To sink endlessly to the bottom of the ocean.

Was it pity? disgust? relief? Genuine sadness? You could not tell what underlying emotions were in his eyes, if there were any. You stopped caring ages ago.

The protests of the woman beside you who clearly cared more about this than you slowly drowned out in your mind, becoming nothing but background noise. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, his publicist packed the contract away, his chair screeched obnoxiously as he got up to leave, not before throwing one more questioning glance your way.

The door shut then silence.

You were ready for your publicist to start shouting at you, berating you for not putting in your effort, but you both knew it wasn’t worth it. This had always been for his benefit more than your own.

—

Life sucks when you have nobody to turn to. Your life seemed to be fast-tracked to your downfall and you were done fighting it. It had been two months since anyone last heard from you. Your social presence seemed to be frozen in time, the last photo on your feed before you went cold turkey was a picture of you and him, and that would be the last association with your name forever.

[ardentpoop]

If you're still doing the opinions thing. What are your thoughts on the take that Sam is just as bad as or even worse than Dean in terms of how possessive they are over each other?

~~Not my personal opinion, just a comparison I saw on a wincest blog that I didn't agree with~~

total garbage. also unfortunately a very common bad take. the narrative likes to go “heehee hoohoo they are just as bad as one another” in the late seasons based on Extremely Questionable or even outright fabricated evidence and I love that the fans who are predisposed to this view of the brothers eat it the fuck up even tho it’s full of giant holes.

s10 is the most egregious example of this. not gonna get into it in depth rn bc it’s tiring but truly just grit your teeth and rewatch s10 while paying attention to what dean is telling the audience about sam and think about whether you actually believe him based on what we’ve seen sam do in s10 and previous seasons. there could not be a more screamingly obvious red flag than dean describing sam working with charlie on a cure for the mark of cain as “when you bullied charlie into getting herself killed.”

I diverted this away from “possessiveness” and into general Harmful Behavior bc it is their overall patterns of behavior that the narrative itself is dishonest about to the viewer. but to be extra clear - there is no world in which sam could be equally or more “possessive” over dean than dean is over sam because sam is not entitled to dean’s body and dean’s life in the way that dean is to sam’s. and furthermore, because sam is so accustomed to having his power of choice stripped away while being told that it’s what’s Best For Him, when he has the option of enforcing another character’s right to choose (usually a child or a woman or other vulnerable person) he almost always makes a point of explaining to them that the choice is theirs. see his interactions with jesse (s5), claire, and jack for very clear examples of this.

my personal favorite parallel however is what dean did to sam with the panic room in s4 vs dean’s comparatively brief and non-dehumanizing experience with the panic room when he was first on the verge of saying yes to michael in s5. samndean’s conversations in “point of no return” are so crucial to understanding their series-spanning power imbalance. like come on. dean’s “I’d let you rot in here. hell, I have let you rot in here.” followed by sam’s “I guess I’m not that smart.”

shouldn’t need to spell it out any clearer than that!!!!

[morsesnotes]

I found this interview from when Shaun Evans was promoting S3 of Endeavour in 2016 and thought it was one of the more interesting ones as he gets asked some different questions. I particularly liked seeing him talk a bit about his peers and how he views his career.

Shaun Evans talks Endeavour series three, Hollywood and whether he'd star in Doctor Who

As Morse returns, the star of the hit ITV drama reveals what's next for his career By David Brown - Radio Times

Falsely accused Endeavour Morse was last seen languishing in a prison cell after being framed for murder. But fans of the hit ITV drama needn't despair - Shaun Evans is back on the case for a third series beginning this evening. Here, the actor talks about life as the Oxford detective, why Morse has endured for four decades and what the future holds...

So what has brought you back to Endeavour for a third series? I didn't feel like we should have left it where we did last time. It would have been odd. As a viewer, I would have been dissatisfied to have left it there because you'd have only been telling half the story. Luckily enough, we had the opportunity to come back to do some more and I think the stories are really good - particularly the final one. It goes along at a lick. It's a bank heist but it's also a love story. And it's heartbreaking. I think it's great and it ends in a really satisfying way.

The character of Morse has now been around for 40 years - why has he endured? A good story well told will stand the test of time. And if you throw in an unusual character - someone who is in a world but not of that world - then that's intriguing.

The original series of Inspector Morse did episodes in Australia and Italy - would you like to do an overseas Endeavour? Well, they keep telling me that the character is going to Spain. But I can take myself to Malaga. I'm joking, but I'm being honest too. There is a Spanish idea, but I'd want it to be right. I don't want this job to be a jolly or something that we take for granted and phone in. There are so many variables to that kind of thing: would the locations be as good? Or the actors? Granted, it would be a laugh to go away with Roger Allam, but would it serve the show?

Does Endeavour Morse become more like you as the series goes on? I think that’s a danger, definitely. The more comfortable and confident you get with something, the easier it could be to be less diligent about creating a character. But then you’d be taking shortcuts that you might not have done three years ago. So I try not to be complacent about it. I want to be even more diligent than I was when I started. But I admit that it's a tricky one.

Having a two-hour slot for a drama seems like a privilege these days - do you worry that viewers' attention spans could be too short to cope? I don’t worry about it at all. I feel like the work we’ve done so far has been very good. Some have been better than others - as would be the case. But I feel pleased with it. Now if audiences change and they feel that the episodes are too long, boring or complicated, then we’ll just stop. That’s OK. But I've seen some crime dramas that try to tell the story in an hour and, for me, it just doesn't work.You’re tyring to set up a killer, set up a world, solve it in an interesting or dynamic way and put in some character stuff as well. It’s nigh on impossible to do in an hour. I don’t think you can do it in a satisfying way. That’s my impression as an audience member.

Fans would be up in arms if you decided to stop Endeavour! No. I don't think that'd happen. It's just work. And they'd just fill it with something else. There'll be another brilliant show.

I think you'd make an ideal Doctor Who - would you like to play that role one day? I’ve never seen it! I think Matt Smith is a brilliant actor. And David Tennant also. But it just wasn’t my thing growing up and I feel like I’ve missed it now. I was in Moscow a few months ago and someone asked me about Doctor Who. And she thought I'd make a good Master. So if you’re offering me a part, then I’ll play the Master.

What about playing James Bond? Well, everyone wants to play James Bond, right? He always gets the girl at the end. And in the middle. And at the beginning, come to think of it. But I think that Daniel Craig would be a tough act to follow. He brings something really interesting to it.

Do you ever look at contemporaries like Benedict Cumberbatch and Eddie Redmayne and think, 'I'd like top billing in a Hollywood movie'? I know both those lads and I like them. But I never really think of my career like that. Of course, you want people to see your work, but I'm not interested in being the next so-and-so. It doesn't attract me. Mainly because it's short lived. It's better to keep working and do interesting stuff.

So being a big Hollywood star isn't all it's cracked up to be? I don't know. I suppose if you had enough clout to guarantee finance for a story you wanted to tell, then that would be a good thing. From a business point of view. But I don't spend my time being envious. There are so many variables in all that bollocks! When you desire fame or fortune - which are ephemeral things - you're building your house on sand, aren't you?

Do you have a dream project that you'd like to do? I'd love to do something about poets or photographers who have done interesting things and left an impression on their portion of the world. Someone like the American photographer Walker Evans. Or the French poet Arthur Rimbaud. 

So what's next for you? I'm purposefully having some time off. I've been busy and I'd like a bit of time to read some books and just study. I want to educate myself on writers, photography, filmmaking and poetry. I'm very lucky that I've now got enough money to have a bit of time to myself and study. I'm very lucky to be in that position.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi! Can I request some Genderbend Sleeping Beauty x Isekai Reader? (Please no princess reader I've seem them everywhere on qoutev)

Yandere Genderbend Sleeping Beauty x Iseakai'd Reader

Tending to a human man the moment you’d been dropped into this alternate world was not the ideal position. Originally being instated in the castle as a charity-case servant you hadn’t made any connection to the fairy tale. Not until the head butler brought you to a familiar trio of faeries; dressed in blue, green, and red. 

“My my their magical signature is quite–”

“Bizarre?”

“Unique?”

“--I was going to say, perfect for the worst-case scenario.”

Supposedly because of your outlier existence, the faeries had designated you to be their human help. Should the prince–Briar Rue fall into the curse of the spindling wheel he’d need constant care. It was a contingency plan, a tragic plan to set everyone in the kingdom to rest until the princess would return to save him with her kiss. Unlike the kingdom, the prince’s curse was cruel: continuing to let his bodily functions continue as he slept away. 

“It’s just in case.” 

“Yes, not likely at all.”

“--All because it just doesn’t work on you.”

“Mariwether!” “Mariwether!”

“Sorry, forget that I said that please!” 

That was why in the span of a week you were meeting and serving the cursed prince that had spent the entirety of his life in a forest. A position that would have many of the staff sneering at you as waited on the prince’s hand and foot.

“All of this is so overwhelming (Y/n)...I don’t want to marry a girl I haven’t met. Even when I’m so madly in love with another.”

The prince was doing an iconic Disney Princess mope, leaning against the barred windows of his room in the castle. You continued to fold away his forest attire, smiling to yourself as you replayed the animated version of the fairytale. 

“Well I have a feeling you’ll meet her sooner than you may think.”

He turned his sorrowful gaze to you, tilting his head at your ominous smile. He questioned you no further, opting to conversate with you about the ‘modern’ nuances of popular society. Which you were just as uninformed about as him. Needless to say, the both of you were on something of a learning curve, relying on the staff and fairies to fill the both of you in. 

Two days. 

Two days ago he was learning alongside you how to waltz. The day you were dismissed it was in an explosion of emotion. A reaction of his overwhelmed self in this stressful environment; had you sent away and retiring early. Living in such a hierarchy was new to you and your knowledge of the future meant nothing at the intensity of his order. That being said you didn’t blame yourself when the fairies arrived at you, heads hanging low with tears in their eyes. 

____________________________________________________________

As agreed upon you had begun your caretaking duties of the prince. Waking every morning to wash, dress, change his magic feeding trey, and placing the medieval equivalent of a diaper as the day forged on. Whether you are familiar with the task of caring for someone so intensely it soon becomes a habit for you. Becoming a part of a mundane routine for yourself. Care for the prince, have breakfast, read some outdated literature, and repeat. After the first couple of days, you got quite used to the hollow echoing chamber of an otherwise empty castle. Minding the unconscious staff and royal families; it was bliss. 

While you certainly had the time to teach yourself the rules and etiquette of the time, this couldn’t have been the healthiest way to go about it. Without the commentary or viable presence of others, you had begun to speak out loud. Talking to sleeping bodies and non-sentient objects had become you’re normal for the following month. A commonality of that time was being freaked out when any of the fairies decided to make themselves young; they were considerate usually catching your attention in a flurry of sparkles. A fair warning, for whenever they came to grieve.

Towards the end of the month, their visits had a different tune; singing their praises of the princess who was fighting the malignant Sorcerer king. As evident by the distant roars and green swirling sky, this would be over soon. 

“I-I am here to kiss the prince!” 

She came to the castle frazzled, wounded, and on shaky legs. You adamantly refused, practically fighting her to eat and let you treat her wounds. In fact, it was similar to how you had been treating the prince for the past couple of months. Shouldering most of her weight as you bathed and dressed her; a process that only seemed to embarrass you. You figured as a princess this might’ve not been so out of the ordinary making it easier for you to send her to sleep. After all that you scrambled to do the same to Briar, and with a sense of finality you carried out your routine. 

Cheering to the sleeping Briar, “What do you think of that Sleeping Beau? Your beauty is here and we’ll both be free!” 

Waking the next day you finally cooked for someone else, watching as the princess scarfed down her meal only to shake at the door of Briar’s tower. Having full intentions to give them their space, you were shocked by the forceful grip on your apron. 

“D-do you think it’ll work?”

“Of course, I do, your grace! I’m sure you will recognize that he’s someone you’ll enjoy kissing awake. Now if–”

“You have to come with me!”

“W-what!? H-hey!” 

Without heeding your struggle, she curled her arm around your torso easily hoisting you up along with her as she speedily ascended the tower to the sleeping Briar Rue. It was oddly easy for her to bring you to the room the prince was sleeping in. Leaving you in shock as she began to fiddle with her cape and kilted armor. 

“M-maybe i-if I take M-mom’s idea I’ll b-be m-more confident to kiss him!”

“Ah what was your mother’s idea?”

“....”

She went silent at your question; returning your curiosity with a blank stare before shaking her head. Scratching at the back of her head she mumbled to herself before anxiously gripping the handle.

“I–i’ll just wait until h-he’s awake then.”

“W-what?”

“A-anyway do you really think I can do this?”

“O-of course.”

Her nervous demeanor was grating on your nerves, probably because you were more than minutes away from seeing this whole debacle being solved. After minutes of deliberation the princess opened the doubled doors revealing the hauntingly beautiful image of the sleeping beau. She made an audible gasp at the sight. 

Shining in the angled light of the setting sun, the stained glass windows of his temporary chamber flashed the mosaic of colors across the sleeping prince. Blonde flowy hair splayed out around his crowned head. His face was still, cheeks oddly rosy and lips perfectly puckered with their own touch of red. He looked ethereal and you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Whether or not you were familiar with makeup in the modern world, this world wasn’t particularly fond of the attractiveness of healthy color. But judging by her continued awe the smashed berries you got were a good idea. 

“Whoa he’s the fellow from the forest…” She marveled at him tentatively rubbing at his folded hands. She bent forward slowly, lips slowly inching forward before she abruptly pulled away turning from the one act that would end this all. Her worried eyes darted around before falling on you widening with an idea. 

“H-h-how about we do this together?”

“Excuse me, what?!” 

“Like we both kiss him at the same time s-so that I-I won’t be l-lonely when I do this!”

“What! Why do you want me–a servant of all things to kiss the prince with you?”

It was a viable question; unless she felt threatened by you. But knowing the princess it would be for something less daunting—

“B-b-because! This is my first time k-kissing a prince!” 

You shook your head in disbelief but relented when she puckered her bottom lip at you; making the equivalent of prayer hands with her face. You entered the chamber gazing at the both of them before walking around the bed to his lower right side. 

“How about this Princess, I’ll kiss his hand and you will kiss his lips though I’m certain it is absolutely unnecessary.” 

“Alright! W-we er I can do this.”

With newfound confidence, she positioned herself near his face on the left side of the bed. She looked back at you while making sure you were also in position. To which you nodded urging her to go on. 

You originally weren’t going to follow through, faking your involvement but even as she went in for the kiss you still found her gaze flashing toward you. So you followed through lightly pecking the back of his hand, standing up you got to catch a glimpse of the magical moment. Pulling away from the waking prince she nervously peeked with one eye as Briar blinked his own eyes.

“Y-you? From the forest and…”

He looked to the right, blue eyes landing on you or they would have been if the three fairies hadn’t taken your place near the bed. 

“Oh, Rue!”

“You’re awake!”

“Yes but–”

“We must awaken the whole kingdom! We must celebrate!”

Any concerns the awoken prince would have had were brought to a hush under the cheers of the fairies and the castle’s jovial celebration. Their prince, to the kingdom’s knowledge, had survived the curse and was reunited with his love: Princess Phyllis of the neighboring kingdom. 

______________________________________________________________

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for the wedding?”

“No no I think I’m ready for…the quiet once again.”

“Surely Rue would be happy to see you on his big day!”

“Yes! Yes! I can conjure up something for you! In blue of course.”

“Yuck, that’d be a crime! Obviously in red!” 

“Now here you go again–!” “Why I oughta–”

You stepped away from the bickering faeries, continuing to hug the fae in green. 

“Thanks again for letting me have that cottage, Floran. I really appreciate it.”

He shifted his glasses, magicking a basket full of food into your hands after you hurriedly adjusted your pack’s strap. 

“Deary it’s of no trouble, after all. We have no reason to use such a lovely space. And I’m sure it’ll offer you the quiet you’ve grown so used to.” 

He smiled wiping away imaginary dust on your shoulder as he held your upper arm.

“Just be weary, you know we won’t stay away forever now. We’ll be sure to visit.”

“And when you do I’ll be glad to welcome you.”

You both shared a laugh as you had begun to walk to the mule you were discreetly gifted by the royal family. It was decided that you’d be released from your duties both at your own request and at the faeries' discretion. With vague compliments, the royal family could quietly thank you for your mysterious role in ‘solving’ their Prince’s curse. Phyllis was adamant, as she could be, about thanking you but the fairies were stern about keeping quiet. During this time you found no time to speak or so much as look at Briar without it being from the perspective of a bystander by a passing celebrity. You didn’t mind. And it most certainly didn’t stop you from letting the mule lead you to the cottage Briar Rue had hidden in before, more than willing to enjoy the silence and relaxation of the cottage life. 

_________________________________________________________

Briar fought the urge to yell as Phyllis went into another tirade about her adventure. Sat near the window of the seamstress’ tower as she was fitted for her wedding gown. An event she and his parents eagerly insisted he attended. It was a brazen attempt to make them get along despite the obvious lack of interest on his side of things. 

“B-briar? Er-Rue? D-did y-you hear the l-last thing I said? A-about the d-dragon and the w-wounds I got? I-it’s kind of crazy y-you know b-because when I finally got to the c-castle–”

How did this wake him up?! 

It couldn’t have. He knows it. The nights he’s spent hearing warbled words and grunts didn’t make his heart pound for her. Or the warm touches along his chest and arms, they were evidence of someone else. But no matter how much he wracked his brain the thought of who remained a mystery. 

Faun assured him it was a small side effect, that the cloudiness of waking up was sure to hover over his consciousness for the next week. That was why he got tired every time he tried to recall the time before his cursed sleep. 

“B-briar? A-are–d-do you h-have any questions a-about that day?”

“No Phyllis I’m just trying to remember…”

“Oh okay. S-so, as I was saying (Y/n), was there and th-”

That’s what it was! That’s who it was!

The piece he’s been missing: the memories of the week before. His heart, straying from his so-called love for the mysterious woman in the forest to the clumsy handmaid. He remembered cursing himself and then cursing at (Y/n), sending them away while ignoring the pain in his chest. What could it be, to so quickly change the object of his affection? Was it a problem that when he thought of love all he could see was their face? And even if he was truly devoting his love to (Y/n) instead of the mystery maiden, who turned out to be Phyllis the princess, then what could he do? As a prince himself, he would have no choice but to abandon you in worry that his royal family would reject you for the nobility’s standards; if not for their own biases. It was an endless cycle of heartbreak that had no end. 

When the dark sorcerer’s curse came about, he was entirely lucid. Only refusing to follow the green foreboding glow to stew in his own grief. Audibly sighing at the entrancing orb, he only raised his head when the orb transformed into a figure.

“Come child, it is your time.”

“How can it be my time when all is so helpless.” 

He tucked his head into his folded arms, hiding his sniffles and bubbling tears as they fell onto the table below. Missing the smile that spread over the sorcerer’s face as he feigned a giddy pity as he patted the prince’s back. 

“There there, the faeries spoke of a true love’s kiss. Now I’m sure that you’ve found someone you love?”

The question was rhetoric, the sorcerer was well aware of his rendezvous with the princess in the woods. The sorcerer was certain of this, and it brought a greater smile to his face that he had already acted on this. 

“Y-yes…but–well–I’m not sure if it's true love! Since it’s changed so much…” 

Feigned sympathetic pats on Briar’s back, allowed the fireplace to morph. Lined in green flames a portal opened opening to the tallest tower within the castle where a new glowing orb waited patiently. 

“Now young Briar, the only way to know would be the ultimate test would it not?”

He sniffled, “What do you mean?” 

“What better test for you’re love than sleep that can only be broken by true love? Do you not want a method that is tried and true?”

“Tried and True?”

“Yes.”

Giving into the trance the prince rose from his seat, guided by the hand of the one who cursed him. Settled behind his back as he nudged him into the portal and in the direction of the green light. Aware of his curse he followed dutifully, wiping his tears and rubbing his dribbling nose. He came to the orb that materialized into a glowing spinning wheel, needle piked and practically begging for his puncture. Briar reached forward stopping just a hair’s length away to turn to the sorcerer who was growing agitated. Face full of worry and trepidation he pleaded with the horned man. 

“H-how will I know that the one who wakes me is the right one? What should happen if the one who stands above me when I wake is the one? There are those who might trick me or–” “Fine then.” 

The sorcerer’s voice boomed as he stepped heavily towards him, chest to Briar’s face he held a green flame in his hand. Blue eyes snapped to the flame registering the sound of a snap before the sorcerer pulled away. 

“I’ll let you hear everything.”

He opened his mouth to question the action, stopping to let out a scream as his ears burned. He stumbled to the side, nearly falling to the ground as he clutched at his ears groaning from the pain. The sorcerer groaned pulling a hand from the side of Briar’s face in the direction of the wheel. Pinpricking his finger, releasing the hand as the prince retracted his hand inspecting the wound. Eyelids drooping and knees buckling before sending Prince Briar Rue into the beginning of his eternal slumber. 

“There dearest Rue, you can hear everything. Even the cries and pleas of all those who come to mourn you by your bedside! I applaud you for your creativity, suffering for eternity will surely bring you an even crueler existence than I would have given! Hahaha.”

He was right. It was cruel to remember having doubted (Y/n) as they cared for him. It was they who had read to him and spoken to him while he was trapped in an uneasy slumber for the entirety of thirty days and thirty nights. Now he was meant to marry the mere attraction of his past, it was truly a nightmare. The only solace he could find was in their servitude. If he couldn’t have them in the way of a lover he’d have them in the way of a king. It sounded cruel but surely that was just because the thought was in his head.

It would all make sense the night before the wedding when he’d call them after the dreaded bachelor party. He’d confess his love within the solace of the private garden he’d been gifted, taking them under the moonlight and the stars as his witness. Oh, how he’d dread the morning! When he would have to repeat such false vows as he betrayed them one time last. But that would be the end of it, the rest of himself would be dedicated to (Y/n) and (Y/n) only. 

Or that would be if that wasn’t who he thought it was in the window—

“H-hey! T-that looks like (Y/n) r-riding on that donkey! Doesn’t it Briar?”

Rendered speechless at the sight of your riding form disappearing into the bustling capital city. He could only stifle a fit of frustration as he recognized the familiar trio of red, blue, and green. Post haste he attempted to leave the room stopped by the hand, and following consequences written all over Phyllis’ face. He’d wait for now but when he was done…they’d surely be hearing from the angered and fully awoken prince.

[hope-to-hell]

The difficulty of taking what you really want. Travis Hackett x Reader. Smut, pegging, implied age gap. It’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks.

—

When you float the idea he goes all deer in the headlights, blush creeping up from under his collar. He’s not disgusted—poleaxed maybe— spluttering a bit before he gets out a what? I, um. No… no thank you, and so you let it lie. There’s plenty else you can do, after all. And anyway you’re well distracted before long, once he starts peeling off his shirt with that boyish grin that makes him look twenty years younger.

Were you a greaser? I bet you were, leather jacket and jeans, causing trouble down at the drive-in and—

Hey now, how old do you think I am?

Just messing with ya. Still think you’d look fuckin hot in leather.

There’s a span of weeks when he’s turning something over in his mind, now and then making that rumbling hmm over coffee at his desk, or as he’s moving slow and lazy in ya with your back pressed against his chest.

You think too much.

One of us has to.

And so time passes until the question just faintly brushes the back of your mind, until the lights are low and he’s nosing at your neck. I want you to, he says, and you can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

Gonna have to be more specific, T. Pulling it out of him carries the risk of Travis simply retreating into himself, but this is part of the dance: the I want that becomes we need, the shyness spiraling out into abandon— because he is shy, no matter what he or anyone else says; he dreams of rain in the pines and not another soul around for miles— but all this hinges on him speaking his need.

I— aw fuck. I want you to fuck me. His words are breathy on the exhale, wispy almost; it’s that little voice whispering I want, I want, peeling back the ingrained layers of good boys don’t do that, laying bare the part of him that dares to take what he wants. This won’t be a grand event; there will be no rose petals or candlelight; he is a skittish thing and so he will try to stay at the very edge of the light where he can let his needs unfurl. But he is the center of your attention here whether he likes it or not; he takes a breath and lets you lay him down.

You don’t have to say I’ll be careful but you do say easy does it when you’re slicking him inside and out til he’s nearly more lube than man; he’s had a finger in him once or twice but the promise of more has him breathing openmouthed, canines catching at his lip. I gotcha. Here, check it out— and you’re closing his big rough hand over the silicone cock, feeling the tug of leather against your skin as he hefts it, pursing his lips such that you can practically hear the gears turning in his mind.

And if he twitches a little at the way you’re petting at his insides, it doesn’t last because at last he’s drifting in the rare pleasure of being cared for, rocked now and again by the uncertainty of this unfamiliar ground. Feels— weird. Exposed? Like I’m more naked than I’ve ever been. He shifts, canting his hips up just a bit; he could be chasing sensation or trying to evade it, and so you have to ask.

Hey. We still good?

Golden.

Okay, then. Lie back and let me blow your mind.

Smartass, I oughta— whatever he meant to say dies in the harsh wet gasp that punches out of him when you steady the toy against his ass and slowly push inside. It’s not from pain but rather from the sheer overwhelming scope of sensation that he has no reference for, and so all he can do is drop his head back among the pillows and feel.

‘Salright? His answer is in the way he reaches for you, threading a hand between all your tangled limbs til he can grip at your hip, catching at the leather strap. His pale arm tenses bowstring-tight with the force of his need; he’s beyond speaking but his body speaks more clearly than he could, his cock twitching and jerking against his belly. Stroke yourself, gorgeous. C’mon, let me see, you look so fucking hot when you let go. And when he does let go— when he sheds the final scrap of oughtn’t, shouldn’t, mustn’t and clothes himself in pure naked pleasure— when he takes himself in hand and his breaths falter out of rhythm, that’s when it happens.

It’s the smallest change in angle, a shift of your hips that rips a startled, wide-eyed oh from him. There, huh?

I— fuck. Fuck. Again, more— and of course you’re gonna give him what he wants, what he needs— unh— he’s been wound so tight for so long, he deserves this mindless pleasure, the wet sound of skin on skin as you push him hard toward the edge— fuckfuckfuck— the stoic in him has combusted and all that’s left is this mad dash to— ah— to—

and he falls.

He’s still twitching but you’re already halfway out of the harness, wrapping yourself around his thigh, and he slots against you so perfectly, slippery with spilled lube and your own need; the hair on his thigh gives just the right amount of friction and it’s no time at all before you’re following him down.

In the loose-limbed aftermath he’s hazy, drifting; his fingertips brush against your cheek as he’s mumbling cmere. Scootch up. He’s so warm, slick with sweat and fluids but you fit so perfectly against his side. It’ll be worth having to peel yourself off him later; for now he’s slipping into sleep with one arm draped across your belly. For now, there is no thought, no worry— only rest.

[ashenlavellan]

for Lorelei Ryder/Reyes Vidal

🩷 What is the sweetest thing they've done for one another?

🤍 What is their favorite or most admired quality in the other?

❤️‍🔥 Which one is more adventurous in the bedroom? Which one has more experience?

After a stressful meeting/deal that went down between Reyes and some of his clients, he comes home to Lorelei playing some relaxing music as well as her attempting to create a comfort treat of his that he had mentioned - sopaipillas, which are fried rounds of pumpkin-spiced dough drenched in brown sugar syrup. (however, emphasis on tried since not all of the usual ingredients are available at the time... he definitely appreciates and loves the gesture)

Reyes, on the other hand, had managed to clear out Tartarus for the span of an hour after Lorelei shares that she's always loved to dance - especially slow-dancing. He goes out of his way and covers for the loss of business for Kian by reserving the entire lower level and dancing with her. (He's quite the romantic.)

Lorelei's favorite/admired quality for Reyes is that he can be intense when it comes to focusing on a matter that requires his attention, whether it be small or big... or even sexual (She knows that she can count on him when it comes down to anything - especially if it involves her).

Reyes admires how logical/pragmatic she tends to be towards situations and it drives him insane once she snaps and he sees her riled up - he loves seeing her come unraveled (whether emotionally or physically... especially sexually.)

Reyes is definitely more adventurous within the bedroom as well as experience, considering his past relationships with partners older/more experienced than him. However, she's intrigued to try stuff and she is inexperienced due to having selfish lovers - examples: she's never been eaten out, never experienced more than one orgasm, or experienced aftercare once a session has ended.

Thank you so much for the ask! I love answering these questions and please feel free to send more my way! I love gushing about my beloved characters and their SOs! ^.^

[thornfield13713]

2, 8 and 17 for rosie?

Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

Astarion. She's friends with all the rest of the Tadfools...except Minthara, whose approval never got much above 'fair', but Astarion was the one she was closest to. As for how it happened...in large part, it was because they felt accepted by one another. Neither of them had any real moral room to judge the other, which made it a lot more comfortable for them to be entirely genuine with each other, even about things that they wouldn't otherwise show. That meant a lot, particularly early on, when Rosie was trying so hard to be The Ideal Paladin that it felt like showing anyone her personality beyond that was just asking to be kicked out of the group. It helped matters that they have compatible, rather dark senses of humour, and also that they both have intimate experience with having their agency stripped away from them in horrifying ways that mean they understand each other far better than either of them initially expected, even if they react to regaining a measure of agency in outwardly opposite ways.

What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

Rosie starts teaching herself the lute after she helps Alfira with her song. Alfira even gave her some basic pointers, that one night in camp. Unfortunately, that ended...the way it did, but Rosie kept up the lute regardless, because...well, partly because she wanted to remember Alfira, and keep some of her songs alive. 'The Weeping Dawn', at the very least, the last song Alfira ever wrote. It becomes pretty common for her to practice at night in camp, even if learning doesn't always go as well as she might've hoped.

She also starts getting into romance novels, after a while. This one doesn't really start until Baldur's Gate, when she finds a whole stack of smutty romances in the Stern Librarian's room at Sharess's Caress, gets distracted by them, and then proceeds to buy more. She's got a real taste for romances, and they're her usual winding-down reading, if she can get hold of them and keep them in good condition long enough to finish a book, given the dangers of the adventuring lifestyle.

I think she ends up picking up and then abandoning a lot of short-term hobbies, whenever she has time, trying to find out what she likes doing and what she doesn't. Some of them - particularly if they require delicate fine motor control - are just exercises in frustration, but others, like dancing and lanceboard, are much more successful, even if it takes her a while to adjust to playing lanceboard gain post-brain-damage, when her attention span and impulse control are both so much worse. Music and reading are her main hobbies, though, being among the easiest to keep up even while on the move and constantly travelling as part of an adventuring party.

If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

I'm not sure Rosie would go for having kids, partly due to nervousness about whether Bhaal would take an interest in them (even if they wouldn't be his spawn, it'd be a way of getting back at her) and partly just because she's afraid that the answer to this question might be 'no'. I do think she'd be better at it than she might expect, if constantly terrified of the possibility that she might hurt them by accident, but her lifestyle isn't really conducive to having kids anyway.

The main exception I can see is if, after a couple of decades adventuring around the Sword Coast, she and Wyll decided to settle then. And even then, I'd see them as more likely to foster kids - and probably older kids, teenagers and suchlike who need a bit of extra support and guidance but maybe aren't looking to be entirely adopted - than have their own. Rosie would, I think, be pretty good with troubled teenagers, as she is almost absurdly unjudgmental, very patient, and probably makes a pretty good mentor-figure, particularly once she's had some time to grow and mature and get more comfortable in who she is now that Bhaal is no longer a part of her life.

[speakingofpsychosis]

Hello!

Last year I was diagnosed with Attenuated Psychosis Symdrome, but when I go looking for reading material to learn more about it, I mostly either get scientific articles (which I have trouble understanding) or debates on whether it's even real or not :(

If you have the time, would you be able to help find some reading material on the subject that has a bit of an easier reading level?

Hey friend!

I found an article that states:

“The main features of attenuated psychosis syndrome parallel of the prodromal phase of schizophrenia. The person has very low-grade symptoms that can include as delusions, hallucinations, or disorganized speech, and the symptoms have been present for short period of time and worsened, but the symptoms are below the level of severity that would warrant a diagnosis of a psychotic disorder, such as schizophrenia.

As this is a condition for further study and not an actual diagnosis, there is no information regarding its prevalence, any co-occurring conditions, or other information that would normally be included with the description of a formal diagnostic category in the DSM-5. The condition is considered to be potentially useful in determining a potential risk that someone may develop a full-blown psychotic disorder such as schizophrenia. Some individuals who meet the specifications for attenuated psychosis syndrome are eventually diagnosed with a psychotic disorder, and some are not.”

Reading on the National Library of Medicine states:

The proposed diagnostic criteria for Attenuated Psychosis Syndrome in DSM - 5:

At least one of the following of symptoms is present in attenuated form [having been reduced in force, effect, or value], and is of sufficient severity or frequency to warrant clinical attention:

Delusions

Hallucinations

Disorganized speech.

Symptom(s) must have been present at least once per week [over a month span]

Symptom(s) must have begun or worsened in the past year

Symptom(s) is sufficiently distressing and disabling to the individual to warrant clinical attention.

Symptom(s) is not better explained by another mental disorder, including: Depressive or bipolar disorder with psychotic features and is not attributable to physiological effects of a substance or another medical condition,

Criteria for any psychotic disorder have never been met.

It looks like its being less debated on being real and more so finetuned before being approved as a formal DSM5 diagnosis.

I don't know if this was made easier to read than the medical journals, so if you have more questions feel free to shoot them over.

[babyrubysoho-maiden]

Long ask anon here!

Thank you so much for taking the time to answer me. Or that the entire ask would go through. Also, thank you for all your effort and dedication to this manga. It's really appreciated. You're a true MVP 👌

And I even left some questions out, and shortened paragraphs (I kept getting interrupted and I was in hurry too) but I answered them myself when read the manga again right after I sent the ask just to be sure I wrote the right questions. Spoiler! Not completely or as eloquently as I would've liked.

And by the time you answered me, I realized I wasn't far off from what I wrote (based on your reply and the comments I saw, or maybe I'm giving myself too much credit) but also the completed answers were hiding in plain sight. I just didn't pay enough attention. Short attention span, you see. And I wanted to kick myself in the head. Specially because I reread mangas for the same reason. (Not completed answers since the story it's still being developed)

Again, thank you for your reply 👍😀

Off topic though, are interested in any other bl mangas, whether in progress or completed? Not at MR level but to be part of another fandom and have these types of discussions.

Happy new year! 🎆🎉

Happy new year to you too!

And you're very welcome, I enjoyed thinking about your questions ^^

Yes, I have a couple of other BL manga I'm very into, although not at all at the obsession level of MR🤣

For completed stories, I love "Boku no Omawari-san" (Sorry, I don't know the English names of any of these, but I think there are official English translations?) It's a very sweet daily-life story about a middle-aged local shopkeeper and a hot tall police officer who's been in love with him for a decade😍

For ongoing stories, "Megumi to Tsugumi". This one is omegaverse, but I like it because it's one of the best explorations of omegas and alphas who don't fit in with social expectations I've seen in manga. Plus it's adorable and hilarious!

And "Hidamari ga Kikoeru". This is a nuanced and really thoughtful exploration of deafness, when a super handsome but introverted university student with partial hearing loss falls in love with a very earnest young man who has a really loud voice XD. There are several volumes and many deaf characters with different approaches to daily life.

I think those are the ones I love most at the moment!

[kanohivolitakk]

As someone who has dabbled in both video essays and meta/analysis stuff on tumblr I have noticed how the two formats differ quite a bit in spite of their superfical similarities.

The first notable difference has to be the scope. Meta tends to be far more specific and narrow than video essays. Yes, the best video essays tend to have an "angle" they tackle their subject matter from than just "everything and the kitchen sink approach" and there are more narrower videos like character analyses, but even then they tend to be broader than meta. And that's because meta tends to be very specific. If I make a video essay on say, Moomins, I am going to make one that explores the queerness in Moomin or the way the anime both improved and kinda butchered some characters (yes this is about Snork and Hemulen thank you). Whie if I made a meta post...okay I would absolutely do about how 90s anime handled Snork vs the books because that's fascinating topic. But I woud go far deeper. I would go far more into my examples, and elaborate far more in detph, because i have all the time and energy and am not fighitng against attention span of people.

Another difference I have noted is that meta is firmly made for people who are fans of the source material while video essays are not. As such meta tends to not explain unnecessary details, whereas video essays often re-iterate the orginals plot to the point they have become infamous of just "recapping" the plot because well, they need to. You don't know if your audience knows the depths of the work youre analyzing, especially if you are more of a general/jack of trades channel that covers multiple topics than just one or two with clear fandom overlap. As said, meta is made for fans of the series, so we don't need to be redundant. To give an example, in my Bionicle videos I summarize the plot of the movie before going into detail. Whereas in my meta posts I don't feel the need to do that, unless its absolutely necessary.

But by far the most notable difference is that video essays tend to have...well a point to them. It isn't just about analyzing a media, it's saying something deeper with your own art, whether its about the artwork in question, the human condition, the state of our world or even the creator themselves. Video essay tells a story, one with themes and messages itcreator wants to tell the audience. Meta doesn't need to do that. It can do that, I certainly have done so in the past with some of my Bionicle posts. But that isn't the point of meta. A meta can exists on its own, without anything deeper to say outside what it says about the work itself. It doesn't need this additional mumbo jumbo that often feel necessary for video essays.

I think it boils down to the fact the two serve ultimately very different purposes from one another. A video essay is supposed to entertain, it is meant to tell a story. Yes, it can (and should) be insightfu and educational, but ultimately you are creating a form of entertaiment, something that is meant to be fun and enjoyable for it's audience. Meanwhile, a meta post ultimately is to analyze. It doesn't care if you as a reader are enjoyed or having fun, it's about exploring something and going depths to it.

Or I guess to explain it shortly: video essays are fundamentally an art form and entertaiment, while meta is more like, academia.